The Most Annoying Question People Ask a Newlywed

No, it isn't "When are you having kids?" I mean, it probably would be if anyone had the balls to actually ask us that, but so far we've been spared the inappropriate questions regarding our plans (or lack thereof) to procreate.* How long that will last is unclear.

So far the most annoying question I've gotten has been the perplexing, somewhat presumptuous inquiry of:"How's married life?"

I get it. Since I got hitched, you're all kind of stumped on how to interact with me now that you can't ask about how the wedding planning is coming along. I get that "how's married life?" seems like a natural question to ask a newlywed. But implicit in the question, at least in my mind, is that it's somehow supposed to be radically different from pre-married life.

Reality check: it isn't--at least for us. Sure, it's kind of fun for me to call MT my hubs, and that's new. We also officially combined our finances, which I will probably write a series of blog entries about at some point. But all in all, life is pretty much exactly the same as it was before April 20th except that now we aren't paying for a wedding anymore. Now THAT'S something to celebrate!

While our wedding day was incredibly special, that was not the day that we committed fully to each other. That process happened long ago and was affirmed each time we worked through a conflict without the threat of leaving or stood beside each other when life threw us a curve ball. And that process will continue now that we're married. The wedding day was just that--a day. The real work and internal changes happened well before we married and will continue long after.

The following reading "Union" by Robert Fulghum encapsulates this beautifully and was what was shared right before we said our vows.

You have known each other from the first glance of acquaintance to this point of commitment. At some point, you decided to marry. From that moment of yes, to this moment of yes, indeed, you have been making commitments in an informal way. All of those conversations that were held in a car, or over a meal, or during long walks – all those conversations that began with, “When we’re married”, and continued with “I will” and “you will” and “we will” – all those late night talks that included “someday” and “somehow” and “maybe” – and all those promises that are unspoken matters of the heart. All these common things, and more, are the real process of a wedding.

The symbolic vows that you are about to make are a way of saying to one another, “You know all those things that we’ve promised, and hoped, and dreamed – well, I meant it all, every word.”

Look at one another and remember this moment in time. Before this moment you have been many things to one another – acquaintance, friend, companion, lover, dancing partner, even teacher, for you have learned much from one another these past few years. Shortly you shall say a few words that will take you across a threshold of life, and things between you will never quite be the same.

For after today you shall say to the world –

This is my husband. This is my wife.

So  when people ask me about married life with expectant eyes and genuine smiles, I don't bitch them out. I just happily say, "It's great, just like our life was before." 

*I can't even begin to talk about how invasive it is to ask people about their plans to have a family. You're asking about their sex life, their use of birth control, their fertility issues, their futures. GAH! STOP ASKING PEOPLE THIS QUESTION.

The Power of Powerlessness

Today didn't off to the greatest start. It all sounds a little silly in retrospect, but here's how it went down. After a nice morning walk with Lucy, I'd geared up for a hardcore workout care of Amy Dixon's Breathless Body DVD which I'd just gotten in the mail the day before.* I even had my episode of The Good Wife all queued on my iPad when the damn computer kept spitting out my disc. I must have tried about eight million different things to get this sucker to cooperate, but the stubborn thing would just not play.

I called my resident IT guy aka my husband to save me from my irritation. The poor man had just gotten out of the shower, but up the stairs he came, buck naked and dripping wet, ready to help me out. It's actually pretty hilarious when I think about it. But at the time all I could think was, "Time is a' tickin'! I must get in my 45 minutes of hardcore HIIT training or else this lovely five pounds of honeymoon weight** I gained is never going to come off." After some troubleshooting and careful maneuvering of wiring (he was still naked after all) we finally got the damn disc to play and off I went to suffer breathlessly as Amy Dixon proceeded to kick my ass for the next hour.

 For the next hour, all was well in the universe. Until the power went out. Was there a storm? Wind? Anything? Nope, sure wasn't. At first it was just annoying. I figured I'd take the opportunity to shower and get ready for the day because surely the power would be back on by time I was done. It wasn't. The estimate we eventually got from the power company was noon. NOON? That was more than THREE HOURS from the time the power went out!

MT, who was also working from home, had the luxury of a laptop computer battery which kept him connected for a few hours. But all I had was an iPad with less than 20% battery life and my iPhone which provided the slowest Internet connection imaginable. I could only stand to send an email or two before giving up on the piece of crap.

Power or no power, I was bound and determined to get something done. I started organizing my desk, throwing away stacks of old reports and business cards. I even organized my pens. Basically I was going nuts. Normally a random break from work in the middle of the week would be amazing, but today was seriously shitty timing. I was scheduled to lead a webinar for more than 100 people, and all of my notes, slides, etc. were on the computer I couldn't start. Shit.

Once MT's laptop battery died, we started cleaning the house together. We figured we might as well do the stuff we've been putting off, like taking this ugly-ass table and matching ugly-ass chairs to Goodwill. Then we started tossing eyesores like this rolled up carpet that had once been a lovely addition to the decor in the living room but quickly became known as "Lucy's favorite place to pee and poop." We started mentally planning out a new layout for our sun room, picturing a new comfy chair tucked into the corner where I can read my Kindle while he works on his latest mosaic.

It was all going so well until noon rolled around and of course, we had no power. New estimate? 3:30. I was going to miss the webinar no matter what. I called my colleague, got her to take care of notifying our participants, and threw up my hands. What else could we do?

Not wanting to open up the fridge and let the cool air escape, we were at a loss for what to do about lunch at home, plus we were going slightly stircrazy, so we figured we might as well go out for a bite. Over plates of Chinese chicken salad and cups of soda, we had an amazing conversation about our families--how each of us feels in some ways that we have more in common with the other's family than with our own. MT's generosity is so like my brothers' and mom's, and my desire for deep conversation is so much like his parents'.

He said, "We each have what our families lack. That must make us perfect!"

I said, "We must lack something."

He said, with a smirk, "We both lack perfect families."

The lesson learned for me is that when I let go and allow the situation to be what it is, it often turns out to be better than what I had planned. Sure, I have about a hundred emails waiting for me to answer. And I'm bummed about having to reschedule my presentation, knowing many people will probably have lost interest by then. But I wouldn't trade the day of togetherness, problem-solving, and toughing it out that we had instead. All in all, a very good day indeed.

And yes, our power is back on. Hallelujah!

* I should mention that  last night Lucy had gotten a hold of aforementioned DVD, puncturing the jacket with her lovely little canine fangs. Little shithead.

** Note: if you decide to make drinking an entire bottle of wine by yourself before dinner a nightly habit during a week long trip, you will in fact gain weight. Who knew?

And I'm Like "F*** You"

First, you all must immediately check out Date Me, DC!'s Halloween blog decorations.

Second, Dr. Nutrition is a goner. And a douche. Last night I had a wine-induced Facebook defriend, phone number deletion, and email erasure rampage. And it was entirely called for. Here's why.

After last week's weird email exchange over the wine tasting, I never heard from him again. Tired of the silence, I emailed him a final time on Monday. According to the two friends I showed it to, it was upbeat, even-keeled, but also addressed the lack of communication. Essentially, I gave him an out--if you're not interested, that's fine, but it'd be helpful to know.

And the guy couldn't even show me the common courtesy of responding to my fucking email. After six dates, I think this is just plain shitty. Grow some balls and say something. You're not the great love of my life, dude. I can handle it. And come on, an email is not exactly confrontational. Even with Mr. Homeland Security and Mr. Editor, I had the decency to email them that I wasn't interested. I feel like that's just the decent thing to do. Blowing someone off? That's just plain cowardly.

I feel totally duped and disappointed in him. And the best way to deal with that is just to cut off all lines of communication.

I think this really was the nail in the coffin of my short-lived dating adventures for the time being. I realized I'm just not ready to get my heart stomped on again. I hate being alone, but I hate dealing with this kind of bullshit even more.

Roller-coaster of Love

Let me say how much I enjoy reading all of your comments from both of yesterday's posts (Tweedlecrazy and Tweedlecrazier). Pretty much all of them resonate with some part of me, all the way from "He's a liar!" to "See, you shouldn't have sent that crazy email!" to "Maybe you should discuss this with him." I think you are all the innumerable voices that live in my head and torment/comfort me.

Here's the real deal. After Wednesday/Thursday cuddlefest/sleepover with Dr. Nutrition, I felt pretty overwhelmed with the lovie dovies and fell into my usual pattern of clinging. When I'm feeling a beautiful boy I tend to want to minimize space and time apart, and just spend countless days laying around in one another's arms. See how this is a little problematic on about a billion levels? Especially for people who want to have, you know, lives? I am a sucker for romance (or maybe it's just lust) and just can't seem to contain myself. I had the same issue with SCL where I set up a pattern of being the one to initiate our time together, and then I got resentful when he wouldn't take the initiative. Nice little trap I set up for myself there.

In truth I didn't give Dr. Nutrition much of a chance to initiate communication because I was too busy doing it. So, really how frustrated could I get that he hadn't texted or called when I wasn't giving him the space to? So, on Sunday I decided to just lay off. And when he didn't call on Sunday or by Monday evening, I got a little more antsy and called him--and proceeded to get royally pissed when I didn't hear back on what I felt was a reasonable timeline. At that point I had already constructed a narrative in my head of exactly what happened, all of which was about my own insecurities and imperfections. This, my boss informed me today after I spilled my guts, is a form of narcissism.

Shut the front door! I'm a narcissist? A girl who writes a blog all about herself is a narcissist? I guess in my mind a narcissist is an arrogant, proud person but in a broader sense, she's right. When something goes wrong, I assume it's all about me. And this was no exception.

The tipping point for me really was the unreturned phone call because I had been so direct--I haven't heard from you, what's going on. So I immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was a deliberate blow-off (it fit into my constructed narrative of him not liking me quite nicely) and then lashed out via email. So, when he did return my call (a response to my phone call, not my crazy-ass email), I felt like a total schmuck, not because I was pissed about him not returning my call earlier (justified) but that I had assumed that he would not return it period because he was an asshole. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

His reason for not returning my call might be sorta lame--"my phone died and I didn't get your message until now, I was helping my grandma move into an assisted living facility"--but it's not as bad as I what I was thinking--that he had totally changed his mind about me. It's never as bad as I think it's going to be, and it's never nearly as much about me as I'd like to think. Was he flaky not to be in touch? Yes. Was it a screw-up? Yes. Was it a deal-breaker for the potential that we have in dating? No.

Luckily, I'm about to head out of town for the next two and a half weeks, giving time for me to regain my composure and perspective. It'll prevent me from diving into anything too quickly with Dr. Nutrition or anyone for that matter. And hopefully I'll come back a relatively sane, if not totally exhausted, woman.

Update: I AM THE BIGGEST IDIOT ALIVE!

You all were right. I'll admit it. I let the crazy girl get to me and hit send.

Only minutes later, while on the phone with Comment Bouncer nonetheless, Dr. Nutrition beeps in. I'm expecting he's going to tell me that he's sorry, that he feels bad.

Oh no. He didn't even get the email. He had been away at his parents and his phone had died. He was calling me from the road on his way home.

ACK I AM THE BIGGEST IDIOT!

But, the good news is he's like, "Don't even worry about it. I understand why you felt that way. I'm sure you were wondering why I hadn't called" And he promised to delete my psycho-ish email before reading it. His only request? That I not mention the whole thing ever again.

Self-sabatoge--you almost won! And dearest readers, you all were right.

Too Good to Be True

It makes me sad to write this post because it means my romance with Dr. Nutrition is over. I hesitantly wrote that I was a bit concerned that he hadn't contacted me since our date on Wednesday, and sadly nothing has changed.

After pole-dancing class (yes, pole-dancing--and it was hard as hell!) with my friend M, we went to have a beer. She is a dating expert, if such a thing exists, and I told her the whole story. Her response was simply, "What the fuck?!" She said, "You have a right to know what's going on. His communication pattern has changed, and he's not keeping you in the loop. You're half of the equation and you have a right to know what's going on." She also added that she doesn't have time to play the waiting game and would rather cut to the chase.

On my way home, I jokingly texted him that I was fairly certain I didn't have a career in pole-dancing ahead of me and asked if he had time to chat. No response. About an hour later, I decided to give him a call. No response. I left him a message, "Haven't heard from you in a few days and was wondering if we could chat before I leave town." No response. No response. No response. No phone call. No text. No email this morning. No Facebook chat. Nada.

I went into my therapy session with C on the brink of tears, and as soon as the door was shut, I started crying. I have so much else going on with this 3-week cross-country trip with a woman from Kenya, but all I can think about is how I just got duped by a guy I mistook for one of the good ones. You all were fooled too, right? What, with the ballroom lessons, the telling his mom about me, the "You're a beautiful person," the date after date routine? WTF?! I repeat, WTF?!


There were no red flags. No signs that he was wavering. Nothing to make me think he was just going to start being a dick and blowing me off. At least with SCL there were warning signs, even if I didn't want to admit it. I. Just. Don't. GET. IT.


Yes, I could excuse him. I could say that he's changing jobs or his phone broke or that he was just busy. But those are excuses, none of which I'm buying. I'm pissed off that he has yet to muster up the decency to say, "Hey, I changed my mind." For a guy who claims to be fearless, he seems like quite the coward right now. A coward I'd love to punch in the face!

So, what to do now? When it has been a full 24 hours, I will send him a final email, ending with "If I don't hear from you, I assume you don't want to see me anymore." Because I'm done with his hot-then-cold of the Katy Perry variety bullshit.

And I also priority shipped a copy of Self-Esteem because clearly I'm going to need some building up again after this disappointment.

The Waiting Game

I have nothing new to report regarding  Dr. Nutrition other than that I am a crazy person. Leave it to me to have a good time with a guy and then spend countless hours trying to figure out a reason why he can't possibly like me as much as he let on.

The thing is, I really like him. A few weeks ago I wasn't sure, but the combination of time spent talking on the phone plus a really great date this week, I find myself falling pretty hard. I'm trying not to get ahead of myself and enjoy where we are, but my natural inclination is to cling.

Tara Brach talks a lot about clinging--how when we feel pleasure, we immediately want more of it and finagle ways to hang on to what is inevitably fleeting. This could be anything--the taste of ice cream (and so we get seconds); the relaxation of a vacation (and so we plot where we'll go next); or the beginnings of a new relationship (and so we want to push it along into the next stage).

And so that's what I've been doing. I've been anticipating what will happen next, and it hasn't helped that Dr. Nutrition and I really haven't had much contact since Thursday morning. So of course I assume the worst: he's changed his mind; he doesn't really like me; he's not thinking of me. And so on and so on. My head is currently a pretty miserable place to reside.

Dr. Nutrition is a busy guy and before this week there had been plenty of days when we didn't talk at all. It's just that now I am thinking about him more, so the waiting feels longer and more torturous. I'm just focusing on chilling out and not jumping to the absolute worst conclusion.

Thank you for indulging my neurosis.

Keeps Getting Better

Yesterday marked date five with Dr. Nutrition, and it was by far the best date yet. With the late-night phone calls and flirtatious text messages, we were both more than ready to see each other in person. He'd set up this date a few weeks ago. On the third Wednesday of the month, the Bell Wine Shop in Dupont has a "Grand Tasting"--for $5, you can try 40 different wines. Granted it's nothing more than a sip of each one, but let me tell you forty sips add up. And once again, I found myself somewhat accidentally hammered. This has been happening to me quite a lot lately.

I had to smile when one of the other wine tasters referred to Dr. Nutrition as "my boyfriend." I didn't bother to correct them.

After some dinner to soak up the copious amounts of alcohol in our system, we had the awkward, "Where do we go now?" conversation. Since we were already on the red line, I said "Canada" made more sense than my place, and off we went. I got the sense that he was a little embarrassed about the lack of furniture in his room, and since last time he'd acquired a table and a dresser. Still no bed frame, but an improvement for sure.

Before things got too steamy, I wanted to talk with him about sex, as awkward as it felt. Here's my deal: as much as I hate to admit it, I am a stereotypical woman who can't have sex without feeling intensely bonded to the other person. Hell, even some hot, heavy-duty making out can make me start hearing wedding bells. No, I am not kidding. Yes, I am that emotional. But I know how I'm wired and I own it.

So, I said to him. "I really like you, and I don't want to risk messing things up by sleeping together too soon. It doesn't mean I don't want to; it's just that sex makes me feel really attached, and I don't think we're at that point yet." He said, "I completely agree." I  couldn't detect any insincerity in his voice--perhaps slight disappointment, but I'm fairly certain that he was being honest when he said he was on the same page. With that out of the way, I let my worries go and enjoyed myself. He declared the bed as a "worry-free" zone, so I really had no choice but to relax and enjoy being close to him.

At 1:30 he asked if I wanted him to drive me home. "Not really, " I said. He invited me to stay, and I spent the whole night with one of his arms under my head and the other wrapped around me. I can't say either of us slept very well, but I didn't care.

We woke up to sunshine and lawnmowers and mockingbirds, and continued to cuddle. I said, "Don't you need to get to work?" He said, "I think I'm going to work from home this morning. In fact, I think I'm already working right now." I laughed, "Oh yeah, how do you figure that?" He said, "I'm working on doing outreach to faith-based organizations." I cracked up and kissed him again, "Oh yeah, I think we've got a great partnership in the works."

Happy day.

Gonna Get Over You

Anyone else obsessed with Sara Bareilles' new album Kaleidoscope Heart? I've been listening to it non-stop after my first encounter with SCL since the second break-up.

That's right. I saw SCL. On purpose.

My mom's birthday is coming up, and she always wants me to burn her CDs of my favorite music. I love it because it's inexpensive for me and I get to share what I'm listening to. Back in December SCL and I had purchased about 500 CD/DVD sleeves, and while I very well could have gone out and purchased my own, I thought, "Wait a sec, I bought those with him, so surely I can have a few."  This morning I shot him a quick email about it, offering to pick them up whenever. About five minutes later he responded that he could drop them in the mailbox--or that he'd be there until 3 if I wanted to come over.

Shit, did he just invite me over? I think he did. I was already getting ready to go to the gym, so I figured I'd swing by there on the way. I debated putting on make-up, trying to cute-i-fy my old gym clothes, and then I thought, "Nope, going on with life as usual." I biked over and knocked on the door.

As soon as I saw him, my eyes filled with tears. I grabbed the CD sleeves and then turned around, ready to book it. "How are you?" he asked. "I'm really good, " I said, not all that convincingly. I managed to temporarily hold off on the waterworks. Then we started chatting. He told me about his classes, how he was finally going to the dentist thanks to livingsocial, and that he was *gasp* taking a motorcycle class. I guess not having the use of my car has him pretty desperate. But, it made me crack up. He's about the last person I could picture riding a motorcycle. His dad is planning a second knee replacement, his aunt and uncle (whom I love) celebrated their 30th anniversary, his mom is in the dark about the motorcycle class.

I told him about Dewey and my dating. I cried a lot, and he hugged me. The thing is, he is such a good guy, even if he's not the right guy for me. I told him how much he'd hurt me. I told him how much it sucked to have him block Facebook content from me--and he explained, "Well, I knew there'd be a lot of pictures of me from the wedding, and I didn't want them to show up in your newsfeed." (See post on said pictures.) And the "not wanting a future with me"? He said, "I know it sounded like I was rejecting you and I can't make you feel better about it, but it was me saying that I just wasn't sure what I want for my life yet." He said he didn't understand what had happened to him, but he had gotten to the point that he knew being in a serious, committed relationship with anyone is not something he's capable of right now.

He said he's been on a few dates--for practice, mostly. This made me laugh, mostly because I feel similarly. I think I'm more open to the possibility of a long-term relationship than he is. I asked about the obsession--he hasn't seen her and when they did talk once, he said she has basically lost her mind. I'm relieved to know he's not barking up that tree, not that it's any of my business.

We talked about our friends' wedding that he attended and I didn't--he let me know that he had, in fact, signed both of our names to the gift. Another good guy move. I told him how far behind I'd gotten in True Blood without his DVR--and I cried again. I felt so dumb, but it was one of those things that we shared. I admitted to him that looking back, I hadn't been happy in the relationship and that I knew in the long-run, I would've gotten tired of feeling insecure about it. And that I felt like I'd let myself become a boring person in the name of "becoming an adult."

I told him about the fuckburglar, our friends who are moving in together, getting kicked out of Dewey. We laughed. I said fuck a lot. I cried. I told him I hope he appreciates me one day, even if he can't now. He brushed my hair back and said, "I already do appreciate parts of you that I didn't before--how hard you worked and how you care about the world and the people in it." I told him when he's ready for his next relationship, I hope he can talk to her more. He saw his therapist in August. He might go back.

I needed to get out of there, not that I wanted to. He didn't invite me to his room to play the piano for me--though he told me he's still playing. He said if I ever needed help with something to call him, even though it's weird. He held me as I cried. I asked if he was glad I came over. "Yes, it's good to know that we can talk." I asked, "Do you think we'll ever be able to be friends?" He nodded. "Do you?" I said, "I don't know. I've never tried to be friends with someone who has seen me naked." He laughed.

"But, it makes me cry to see you." He wiped the tears from my cheeks and said, "Maybe one day it won't."

Maybe.

Sunset at the Kennedy Center: Second Date with Dr. Nutrition

Last night was my second date with Dr. Nutrition. He sent me an e-mail last Friday (just under 24 hours after our first date) asking if I'd like to go to the Kennedy Center or Jazz in the Garden...or both. Two date options! I was impressed. But with my busy social calendar and my plans to go out of town for Labor Day, yesterday was the only night that worked for me.

There are so many awesome things to do in DC that are free--and I don't mean just museums. Every day the Kennedy Center has a free concert that's open to the public. Dr. Nutrition had been there a few times before, and apparently they bring in pretty big names. If you're in DC (or visiting), check it out!

The concert itself was pretty great. The only thing about it was it was difficult to talk during it, and kind of like seeing a movie with a date, there's a lot of sitting there next to each other not interacting. We exchanged a couple of funny observations, like how the lead singer was playing a guitar but we couldn't hear the sound and how the keyboardist would oddly interject a few lyrics at random times. The sitting next to each other but not talking proved to be not a good thing for this reason: I started to panic. Thoughts of "WTF am I doing?" and memories of SCL were swarming in my head--everything from, "I feel so uncomfortable being with a new guy" to "The last time I came to the Kennedy Center was with SCL" and "Oh god, I'm going to vomit." I don't know what came over me, but I was feeling anxious and was thinking of excuses to bolt.

But, I'm trying to remember that thoughts usually pass--just like emotions come and go, the things in our head come and go. Rather than believing every little thing I think, I try to acknowledge the thought and then drop it. By the end of the concert, I felt much calmer and more open to spending time with my date.

We ended up spending three hours on the rooftop terrace of the Center, which has a fantastic view of Georgetown. It was really quite beautiful, especially as the sun went down. Unlike the last date, this time I felt like we were in more of a dialog, and I felt more and more comfortable with him. I can't get over how self-aware and positive he is--it's such a change to talk with someone who knows what he wants and is excited about the journey. And it doesn't hurt that he's also really, really cute.

We talked about online dating--and how it's difficult on the one hand to say, "Love will happen when it happens" and being intentional about kind of looking for it. Ultimately it's about expectations--being open but not insistent that things must go a certain way. For someone like me, who tends to fall fast and hard, it's a good thing for me to be slowing down and not jumping to conclusions.

But, I think what really got me and made me swoon a little bit was when we were talking about how we choose whom to contact on dating sites. He said, "The pictures are really important to me. Most people talk about the importance of a person's smile. But I look at the eyes. I look for light, for exuberance. People can fake a smile, but the eyes reveal something deeper." *swoon*

We kissed not long after that. My first thought was, "This is nice, but different from kissing SCL. It feels sort of weird." Seeing as how I haven't kissed anyone else in two years, I guess that's probably not an abnormal thought. But despite the initial weirdness, there was a great energy between us.

At that point it was 10 PM and we both had to head home. It wasn't until I got on my Metro car that I realized we never ate dinner! I guess that's what good conversation can do to a person. I think it's safe to say a third day is on the horizon, and I'm really looking forward to it.

Don't Wait to Say the Good Stuff

In very weird form, Andrew Cohen, legal analyst for Politics Daily, decided to write an open letter of sorts to his ex-girlfriend...on her wedding day. That's right, on her WEDDING DAY! If you think you can stomach this saccharine and inappropriate display of regret, you can read the whole article entitled "On Her Wedding Day, Saying the Things Left Unsaid" if you'd like. Or I can sum up for you what I think about it.

Basically, it's a passive-aggressive note of regret, articulating all of the ways that he loved this woman, and then "wishing her the best" in her decision to marry someone else. Now if he really meant all of this, wouldn't he have written her a private note rather than post his feelings online? It seems like it's more about him than about her.

But, the question still remains for me: why does it sometimes take something monumentally life-changing, like a death or a marriage, to say the things that should've been said a long time ago? 


The book I'm reading is focused primarily on living in the present moment, having a clear awareness of what we feel and holding whatever it is we are feeling with an open, kind, and warm heart. For me, this is seriously complex because at any given time I feel like I am feeling layer upon layer of feelings, thoughts upon thoughts, and various judgments and criticisms. It can be tricky to hold all of that at once and clearly get a sense of what is going on inside. I can tell this is going to take some practice.

But shifting from living in the present--rather than reliving the past or leaning into the future--necessitates an authenticity that I think I lack a lot of the time. It's really easy for me, like Cohen, to reflect on the past and see it as much simpler and more beautiful. In his proclamation of love, what I hear is "These were the best times in my life, and now they are coming to an end." How sad to be stuck in love.

I hope I never find myself in a situation like this--SCL marrying another woman, and me left feeling like he didn't know much I cared about it. And even worse, not being able to let go of the past and live in the present. In the meantime, I want him to know how much I appreciate him--how he fixed my bike yesterday, how he is patient with my ranting and getting upset, and how he is working to uncover what's going on in his own heart and mind.

And I will spare you all my declaration of love.

Tell Me How I'm Supposed to Breathe with No Air Conditioning

The power at my house has been out for six hours, and with a room on the second floor and temperatures in the 100s, this place is literally a hot mess. Not to mention I have had the headache of headaches today. Basically it's a clusterfuck, and I am wondering if, when, and where I'm going to be able to get some much needed sleep tonight. Thankfully I have the battery on my netbook and the internet on my phone to provide me a place to bitch about it. 

Earlier in the day it was fine, but now that the lights are out, we're all pretty screwed. My roommate G asked, "Can't you stay with your boyfriend?" Brilliant idea, except that SCL is currently in MD visiting his parents. But, he does have a roommate. Brilliant! I'll just call up SCL, have him check in with his roommate, and I'll be all set with a bed and some AC. 

Or not. SCL's roommate works at the airport and often works until 11 at night. I suspected this might be the case, but feeling sweaty and desperate, I said, "Could you leave him a message to call me when he gets home? I'm pretty desperate at this point." 

Of course I am expecting SCL to say something along the lines of, "Oh, of course. I know how bad you've been feeling all day, so it really would be no trouble for me to leave him a message asking if you could come over." That's what I would say if the tables were turned. SCL's roommate is easy-going, friendly, and accommodating. And oh yeah, it's a fucking emergency situation. Okay, maybe not emergency, but definitely out of the ordinary circumstances. I wouldn't be asking unless I really needed to. 

But no, SCL wouldn't even ask on my behalf. God knows why--I guess he doesn't want to bug his roommate. I am certain that when the roommate finds out what happened, he'll be like, "Why didn't you come over?" I'm half tempted to just camp out over there until his roommate gets home. Needless to say, I am beyond annoyed at SCL and the fucking power not being fixed. 

Think Again Thursday: On Compromise

Writing from the lovely Acela train up to attend my beautiful friend L's wedding this weekend. Very exciting! 


I want to spend some time deconstructing and unpacking the whole "don't compromise" bit of advice that I'm sure we've all given, received, doubted, absorbed, or rejected at some point in our lives. During my short relationship "pause" with SCL, I heard this from many well-intentioned friends and loved ones. Of course at that point I was bemoaning how the relationship hadn't been what I wanted (my, how easy it is to say that in the midst of a break-up!), so naturally the response I got was, "He wasn't right for you, and don't compromise what you want in a relationship."

Now, to a certain degree, I do support not compromising on certain things:

• Key core values (for me that would include feminism, gender equality, and progressive causes)
• Major life goals (getting/not getting married, having/not having children)
• Safety (Obvious, but worth stating) 

Essentially, I support not compromising on what makes you a complete whole human being. The problem is that I think our expectations about what it requires for us to achieve satisfaction and a sense of wholeness are seriously skewed and more akin to Disney films than something we can actually reasonably expect to achieve. 

I am the biggest culprit of this. I don't even pretend not to envy my many friends who are in relationships that are on a sure path to marriage. I have wanted this for over a year with SCL. The desire to marry is a core value for me. What is not essential about that is the exact time, place, and details about how that will occur. But over time I had convinced myself that I needed SCL to commit by this time and in this way with this kind of ring. I had talked to myself so much about that I was convinced that it was true. 

How do I know this isn't true? Because SCL and I together despite a short break-up, not getting engaged, and moving out of our apartment. Granted it hasn't been long since all of this stuff happened, but the fact that we somehow find a way to move through all that crap is an indication to me that we've still got something worth fighting for. And our interactions are more healthy than they ever were when we were talking about rings. He is honest with me about what he wants; I do the same; and we are talking about how to get to a new place where we are both satisfied. 

We can choose not to compromise--to toss aside the relationship that doesn't match up with what we want, when we want it. I could do that with SCL. I've thought about it. I think to myself, "Oh, I just want to find someone older and ready to get married." Maybe that would work out, at least for the time being. But who's to say that this other partner and I would continue to be on the same page for the next five years or ten years or however long? And why in the hell would I turn my back on the person I've loved for two years, who is trying really hard to be the partner I need? 

When we were dealing with the whole couch situation, I was PISSED at SCL. BIG TIME. In a matter of about 15 seconds, I had worked myself up into a fury directed at him. If he hadn't broken up with me, if he hadn't insisted on moving out of our apartment, I would never be living in this new place that was too fucking small for my couch. Therefore, it was SCL's fault that the couch didn't fit, and I wanted to give him hell about it. He finally yelled at me, "Sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to!" Not his fault. Not my fault. Just, c'est la vie. Damn it. It's so much better being able to target my anger at another person. 

I don't want to view my relationship with SCL--the person most precious to me--through a lens of consumerism. I don't want to wake up one day "unsatisfied," assume that this feeling is an indication that something is wrong with the relationship itself (rather than recognizing life's ebb and flow of happiness), convince myself I'm compromising, and walk away from it. I don't want to blame any lacking I feel on my relationship when there simply are times when I will not have what I want, when I want it. 

So, I am compromising. On certain things. Not things that I absolutely need right this second. And I am learning to be alright with being in that place. 

Another Hotel, Another Continental Breakfast, Another Phone Call Fail

For any of you thinking how great it is to travel for work, think again. So far in the 48 hours I've been in Philly, I have seen nothing but the inside of a dim, freezing hotel in the middle of nowhere.  Our hotel is not anywhere near the awesomeness of downtown and my favorite Mexican restaurant--El Vez. My one bit of excitement was last night's dinner at Outback Steakhouse. I wish I was kidding.

Oh, and yesterday's trauma: I made myself go to the gym, and was horrified to find that Fox News was the only thing on the TVs and I was subjected to Glenn Beck as I ran. I don't care what party you come from--that guy is an idiotic douche.

Anyway, the traveling is a strain on me personally (difficult to sleep, eating restaurant food, and long, overly-caffeinated days), and it certainly doesn't help the communication issues that SCL and I have. Neither of us likes talking on the phone, and when we do talk, it's kind of awkward. We both know that we hate the phone, but there aren't that many alternatives--Gchat, email, and Skype are other ones I can think of. It didn't help last night that I was pretty much falling asleep when I called him.

I think one of my problems is I don't want to just have a five minute conversation and then hang up. I want to stay on the damn phone because I want to feel connected to him. So we end up sitting there in silence, our phones up to our ears with nothing to say. And then of course I think there's something wrong because we have nothing to discuss (even though he's been working and I've been trapped in a hotel conference room all day). Back when we were just dating, we used to use Skype and video chat which was pretty fun. I enjoy seeing his face--and it felt like he was just in the other room!

Maybe it would be helpful to see the time apart as a time to recharge--and know that we'll reconnect when I return. But when I know I'm going to be gone for basically two weeks, that seems like it's not quite as sustainable. Luckily he'll be joining me tomorrow for my friend's wedding weekend.

Do any of you travel on a regular basis? How do you stay connected to the ones you love?

Shutting the Door

SCL and I had an exhausting weekend of doing the dreaded move-out cleaning of the apartment, as well as selling our beloved couch. It was an emotionally draining, not to mention physically exhausting, weekend. The whole process of packing up and saying good-bye to the place seemed to take forever. SCL moved out at the beginning of June. Then I had another month before moving myself and then a week after that before we said our final good-byes.

I know it sounds kind of silly to be saying good-bye to a sterile apartment in a generic high rise building, but it was our first home together. I can only hope it won't be our last. And after this weekend, I have more reason to believe that we will build a home together again.

I've talked a lot about my impatience with SCL to say something definitive about our relationship. I've waited what has felt like an eternity for some kind of indication--either way, I just wanted to know. I was getting fed up with his wavering, his non-committal "I don't know"s. But I resisted my urge to blow up and demand answers. I reminded myself that this was a time of transition, that nothing major ought to be decided in the middle of this upheaval. As Elizabeth Gilbert talks about in Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage, there are times when we must say to one another, be careful. We need to be very careful about what we say during times of confusion, exhaustion, and distress.

Of course I rarely actually practice this. Last week when the fucking couch wouldn't fit up the goddamn stairs, I cried out, "Now you're going to get what you want--the money for the couch!" Not my most mature moment. But I do try. When I think about it.

Anyway, this is all to say I have done my damndest to keep my mouth shut and let SCL be in his process. And as we packed up the apartment, cleaned every little crevice of the bathroom tile and the kitchen floor, his emotion poured out. We wept together over what we were losing--of what we were both incredibly sad to be letting go of. That was the moment when I least expected a word of comfort, but instead that was what I got.

"This won't be the last time we share a home together." Guess who said this? Not me--SCL. He went on to tell me how these past few months have been incredibly important for him, for gaining perspective on our relationship and readjusting his expectations about what a relationship should be--from a fantasy to the reality that relationships have good times and bad, that we feel good and bad at times, and that all of this is normal and not an indication that there is anything wrong with the relationship itself. "I can picture a life with you," he said.

He can picture a life with me. I cannot even tell you how important it was for him to say this and for me to hear it at that moment. All along I've been thinking that this moving apart was a moving away from a future together--that we were moving backward. I'd been deathly afraid of the day when we finally left our place together because it meant that we had failed, that we were broken and never were going to put ourselves back together.

But I realized in that moment that it didn't have to be that way. SCL told me in no uncertain terms that he viewed this time of living apart as a step forward to making a commitment to each other (my non-scary way of saying "getting married"). He told me that he hadn't been ready to do that a year ago, but he didn't know that until we were in the middle of it. "Next time, "he said, "I want to be ready to do this right."

I brought up my concerns about waiting until he was done with school. Another four years just seemed like too long. He told me that while he's still in coursework, it will be a tough time for him. But once his comprehensive exams are done (probably in another year and a half) he will be in a much better place academically and will have freedom that he doesn't right now. I could tell that he had obviously thought about this extensively. See, even though he wasn't saying much the last few months, he was thinking about us.

As we did our final walk-through--and remembered the bottle of ketchup in the fridge that we'd forgotten--we held each other and shed a few tears. But we walked out together, hand-in-hand. We went back to his new place. He played the piano; I sang. We ate Ben & Jerry's out of the carton and cuddled on the couch.

And I realized, we may have shut the door on our old place, but not on our life together.

Home Sweet New Home

Well, I made it the three blocks to my new place with all my stuff...except for the couch. Oh my God, this fucking couch. SCL and I tried every which way to get it up the fucking stairs, but it just wouldn't make the narrow turn into my room. I also thought I was going to die about three times as we were trying to get the damn thing to budge and it felt like the whole thing was going to come crashing down on my head. I kept thinking of the Friends episode when Ross yells "Pivot! Pivot!" over and over again.

When I realized it wasn't going to go up in my room, I started bawling like a crazy person. This damn couch had been the symbol of my new grown-up life. I was so excited to finally purchase a piece of real furniture from a store. It made me feel like I was finally past that stage of life when I just accept hand-me-downs and mismatched pieces. Now here I am again, sharing a house and fridge with roommates with mostly borrowed furniture. Oh yeah, and my toilet broke the second day I was here, and I'm not sure when it's going to get fixed.

As we angrily took the fucking couch back to our old apartment, I got more and more irrationally pissed off at SCL. He was the reason I had to move the damn thing in the first place. If he could have just stuck to the plan, we would never have been in this spot in the first place! It's amazing how easy it is to blame him for everything.

He pretty much called me out on my bullshit. He said, "Life doesn't always go the way we want it to, and you are forgetting about all of the good stuff going on in your life." True. I didn't want to admit it but he was right about that. It's just so easy in this situation to blame him for things not going the way I wanted. And I pull out that martyr card in a split second anytime I start feeling sad about how things turned out.

I just have to get over it. Like it or not, this is my life now, so I need to start getting used to it if I don't want to stay in a place of "poor me" forever. Time to just start making a new path and enjoying the many, many good things in my life.

Extrovert, Meet Introvert

I had not one but two birthday celebrations this past week. I know that sounds excessive, but the second was a joint bash with my best friend from college. He'd hired a cover band to play at one of his favorite bars, and since his birthday is the day after mine, he invited me to come and bring my friends. So I doubled up the evite guest list and came ready to party.

Remember the needy girl I described who is lacking in the social skills area? Before our party was to begin, I get a call from her. Not only is she already at the party venue, but she has come straight from the airport and has her large suitcase in tow. At a bar. On a Friday night. Meanwhile I'm in the middle of having dinner with my friend. Ay yay yay. Anyway, it all ended up being fine but not exactly the fun beginning to the evening I was looking for.

Once I had a few drinks (mostly purchased by my awesome friends!) and the band started playing, I was getting into the party spirit and dancing like a crazy person. SCL, on the other hand, was not. This is not surprising. SCL is an uber introvert and prefers playing trivia in a small group than standing in the middle of a crowded bar. I can't really blame him--in fact, if it hadn't been my birthday, I probably would've felt similarly. My birthday buddy's group of friends is a bit on the douchey side, and for the first part of the night they dominated the crowd.

At around midnight, SCL said he wanted to go home. A few months ago this would've bothered me a lot. I used to think we needed to come and go together to things like this, and I may have thought, "Ok, then I'll go home, too." But this was my party, and a lot of my friends were still there. I didn't want to go home! SCL said he'd wait up for me, so I kissed him good-bye and went on dancing without him.

When I got home, he was, in true SCL form, watching Star Trek. Classic. We both sat down with a hunk of that delicious chocolate birthday cake and stayed up into the wee hours of the morning. I'm seeing that I don't need SCL by my side all the time to have fun. In fact, there are times when it's more fun to be by myself. And I'm also learning that just because SCL doesn't dance like a crazy person, that doesn't mean he wasn't having a good time. So, he and I are different. A lot different. But at the end of the night, he's the one I want to have cake with.

Wine is My Truth Serum

Thanks again to everyone for the lovely birthday wishes! Although it started off slow, I kicked it into high gear when the sun went down. I spent the night at my favorite gay karaoke bar, singing with a sparkly top hat on my head. Of course with that accouterment, the only appropriate things to sing were show tunes. "All that Jazz" was a big hit, and redeemed my not getting picked for the local production of Chicago. Those mofos didn't know what they were missing!

Earlier that evening SCL and I had a delicious meal at a little Italian restaurant in Old Town Alexandria. That was the first time we'd been out anywhere for weeks. The tension of not knowing where we stand is with me all the time, and even though it was my birthday, last night was no exception. I had been quite a little snit earlier in the day when we talked on the phone briefly. When he didn't immediately say "Happy Birthday," I kind of jumped down his throat. I've gotten into this pattern of reading into every single little thing he does or doesn't do, and it comes back to bite me in the butt.

While this had been an overreaction, it was an entree into talking about how I feel about our situation currently, aided by the half bottle of Pinot grigio I had downed at that point. I apologized for the earlier incident, though stood my ground that I had felt snubbed. He told me I read into things too much. I retorted, "Yes, I do. That's because I don't know what you're thinking!"

And then I went into a wine-induced rant about how I was worried about the future, that he could walk away at any second, and I am constantly thinking what every little thing means. I told him that I'm trying to give him the space and time he needs, but I don't want to do so at the cost of tending to my own needs. I told him that I'm not fixated on the when of getting married, but really the only way I want to be with him is if we're moving in that direction. Yikes, the wine is truly my truth serum.

Then I finally quit talking, and it was his turn. He told me that he loves me and that he focuses on his hang-ups too much, like when we'd get married and his family. I told him that I'm not fixated on the when so much, and while I could try harder with his parents, I can't change the way they feel. And then I blurted out, "I think they'd be an issue no matter what woman you were in a relationship with because they can't let you go." Perhaps that was taking it a bit too far. Again, I blame the wine.

I didn't get any answers, but now SCL knows for real what it is I want in our relationship--and that I'm not going to settle for just anything he'll give me. And later on in the evening when he got up to sing "Private Eyes" at the gay karaoke bar, I was reminded of how much I do want him around now...and for good.

Listening to Myself

Let me preface this post by saying how much I love you all who read and comment on my blog. Please keep doing it!

I am struggling with discerning how I really feel about this situation with SCL. Because I'm not certain of my own feelings, I'm looking for clarity constantly, and I think I've been quick to take others' words to heart without really examining them and questioning if they ring true. And I think this is having an adverse effect on my relationship with SCL.

One word I've heard many times in comments is lukewarm. I'd begun to accept that SCL was, in fact, lukewarm about us. And I told him this. But when he asked me what he could do differently, I could not come up with a behavior that he has been showing me that indicates he's lukewarm. It's more that I'm frustrated that he's not yet in a place of knowing how he feels. It's not that he's avoiding thinking about it. He admitted that he's been really busy with moving and writing a paper for a conference that he has to present tomorrow. He's stressed and occupied, and for the last two weeks he just hasn't been able to be introspective about anything, including our relationship.

I don't think I'm always fair to SCL in this blog. I think I tend to convey the worst part of how I'm feeling. Why did I expect things to be great at this point, just a few weeks after he moved out and I am still in our old place? It's totally weird and awkward and liminal. SCL was the one who had the best insight about it. He said, "I'm not expecting it to be great all the time with all of this transition going on. But it also does feel normal and right and good some of the time." Precisely. There will be ups and downs, and adjustments will be made. But that doesn't mean the down times are representative of the entire relationship, or that they're the real parts of what's going on.

When I was out of town, SCL was the one checking in with me almost daily. He's the one who made me dinner when I had no food at my house. He's the one who suggested we spend the day together on Sunday. And he's the one who came over late last night to talk through it all and accept my offering of peace: cupcakes.

This doesn't mean that I don't have a right to feel bad or weird or unhappy right now, but it does mean that I need to think about the situation we're in. It might not be just about something SCL is doing, but rather the result of being in a difficult transition. The last thing I need to do is to blame him for the difficulty. What we need to do is work through it together, admit when it's hard, and enjoy the times when it feels wonderful despite the weirdness. So, I'm going to try not to jump on his case and accept the situation for what it is: a beautiful, messy transition.

Feeling Blah about the "I Don't Know"

When SCL and I were broken up, I had so much emotion that writing a blog post took little if any effort at all. It was easy to think about what to say that morning and the next morning and the next morning. And when we first began working things out, I felt the same. But now that things aren't as intense, I'm not sure how I feel in general, much less how I feel about blogging.

Reader Katie left me a comment yesterday that's something to think about. A lot to think about. The truth is I'm not feeling satisfied with my interactions with SCL. We have a good time, we enjoy one another's company, but it's difficult to accept that as enough when we've come from a place of deep intimacy and connection in the past. I know it hasn't been that long (less than two months) since SCL came back and said he wanted to try to work things out. And it's only been two weeks since he moved into his new place. But how long is too long? I feel like I'm trying to meet him where he needs me to, but what about me?

I do want clarity. I do want to know where this is heading. I am not satisfied with simply hanging out and being "whatever" together. I told him some version of this yesterday, and he responded that he's adjusting to not living together and figuring out what that means. This is fair, I guess, but it won't be an adequate response forever.

The part that's difficult is believing deep down that he's the person I'm going to be with (so it's ok to wait for him) and not getting what I want in the present. I seem to be putting a lot of hope and expectation on the future for when he comes around. I don't know if I'm hopeful or just outright delusional.