Both Sides Now

So this guy I've occasionally chatted with became rather smitten with me. There's just one major catch--he moved to India for a job. And he wanted me to agree to not see other people, and he'd never even sent me a photo.

I found the whole thing really bizarre. He seemed o mistake my politeness (and he seemed really lonely in India, which I totally get) for adoring him. I really had no sense of who he was--just a lonely guy in India who occasionally thought he could read my thoughts, but really couldn't.

I wonder to what extent my desire for a commitment has felt like that to the men I've been involved with. (Granted, my desire for commitment usually is articulated somewhere between oral sex and able-to-get-me-pregnant sex.) But it just seemed like 2 completely different worlds!

Again

Joshua met someone else. So not a surprise. A friend of a friend in a vanilla context. At least he had the kindness to tell me. I'm surprised I'm crying over this. I could tell he was more distant and when he finally wrote today, I was surprised he wrote. But yet another man who doesn't want me…

What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm kind, loyal, thoughtful, empathetic, kinky. I love to please. I'm actually kind of cute now. Not traditionally, model cute. But cute. A very handsome, 20-year-old, Australian tried to pick me up last night and when I said "I'm too old for you" he said "What are you, 27?" That was a very nice ego boost. But I don't want a one-night-stand with a 20-year-old. I want a partner in this life. It is so hard to be rejected, over and over and over. And not close off my heart.

Part of me thinks that leaving the country for 5 weeks wasn't exactly the best strategy for keeping Joshua. But I didn't know when we'd meet. And I can't exactly give up my life in order to never go anywhere in case I meet someone.

I'm surprised how sad I am.

Anyone Can Whistle

So, in my free time, I'm taking dance classes. Very fun. The guy I'm taking from can't be more than 5 feet tall (if that), and so I feel just huge when I dance with him. (No heels, that's for sure!) I'm pretty good at all the technical stuff, and pretty bad at all the sensual stuff. He keeps telling me "be sexy" and designing moves for me to be sexy. I feel ridiculous.

Today, he put his hands on my hips and tried to get me to move my hips. And, as crazy as I am, I tried to get my opposite hip to go with my foot. I am so controlled that I don't actually understand that hips are supposed to be natural, so I'm trying to raise my right hip up with my left foot forward and then he had me step in front of my right foot with my left foot and I'm like "I'm sorry--I can't make my hips do that" and he was like "That's because they don't work that way--your hip follows your foot. Stop thinking and just relax." Yeah. Relax, let go, let fly. Sure.
Part of it is cultural. Years of ballet taught me that the sign of a good dancer is keeping the hips perfectly still at all times, even when kicking high in the air. (I think I surprised my teacher, in a fun way, but kicking well above his head, demonstrating the difference between ballet and jazz kicks, both with perfectly still hips.) It is actually much harder to kick high without allowing one's hips to follow.

It is very odd. In many ways, I'm very good at ballroom. The woman's job is to obey the man, to read even the smallest signal that tells her what to do. Never to anticipate commands, but yet, to anticipate. And yet the other part, the part where I stop thinking and start feeling. I should prefer to go to a bar and dance with men who want to sleep with me. But I don't want to. I'm deeply uncomfortable dancing with a man who wants to sleep with me. (Actually, my teacher seems to hint he'd be happy to marry me, or at least take me out for the evening, but that I believe has more to do with a green card than anything else. But whenever I'm out of the country, I assume all non-American men that hit on me want a green card. And yet, I get hit on an awful lot. Not all those men can want a green card, right? I'm unsure enough in my own attractiveness, I just assume green card and walk away from them all.)

So here I am, trying to obey a man who is trying to teach me how to be sexy, when I don't feel it. I do the motions. Mostly correctly. But I don't feel it.

"It's all so simple. Relax. Let go. Let fly. So someone tell me why can't I?"

Why don't I stand up for myself?

When I was in Spain 2 years ago my favorite restaurant in this small town had an open mic night, and I thought about getting up and singing, but I was too scared. John said I should do it, and I said 'make me' and he said he would make me sing karaoke for him, but he never did.

They had open mic night again last night, and again, I chickened out. In part because I'm staying in a different part of town, and have been told it isn't safe to come home past 8, so I left just as they were starting. In part because I wouldn't want to do it, without listening and seeing if I fit in, singing an American song ('Because the Night' is what I would sing, but a capella?). But aside from those perfectly good reasons, I want to try Karaoke. I want to sing. What am I scared of?

I think I was right to not sing Karaoke and my work convention this summer. But there are other Karaoke options, I believe. Seattle is a large town. Somewhere or other, I could sing an old Patty Smith song.

I'm scared of both being too good to be an amateur and not good enough to be a professional. A gal urged on by her boyfriend is far more charming than a gal that puts herself forward.

For years, my brother told the story over and over of how he never knew that I wasn't singing (growing up) just to taunt him. It never occurred to him that I could think I had an OK voice, and so he just assumed I did it to torture him. (Why my adult brother, with a PhD in psychiatry, never thought that repeatedly telling this story could perhaps be hurtful is a bit beyond me. He isn't a bad man, but he can be awfully thoughtless when it comes to me.)

I'm not a bad singer. A few years ago, a neighbor overheard me singing in my apartment and jokingly offered me the lead singing position in his band. But I'm not good enough to be professional. And somehow, if I can't be on Broadway, I don't see any place for me singing at all. I do sing-alongs where everyone is covering everyone else. (I do sometimes go sharp when I'm nervous, but much less so now.) So I know I'm OK, and I somehow feel like being OK means I have less protection from criticism. But why is my life so defined by fear of criticism?

Another example: I'm taking Spanish classes and my teacher this time is just dreadful. Dreadful. But I don't want to get her in trouble, so I'm tolerating dreadful classes for a week and going back to my old school next week. Why am I so scared of someone not liking me? Someone, I might add, who isn't a competent teacher. She shouldn't be teaching. I've literally been spending the breaks trying to google grammar that she is misexplaining. (She said "mio" is a pronoun, and mi is an adjective and mi is for people and mio for objects, none of which is true. And not only is her understanding of grammar and English minimal, the books she is teaching me from are bad. Her dictionary said 'maleta' meant "bungler" in English. And she was really frustrated that I didn't know English. She wrote "bungler" several times, bigger each time. Anyone here pack a bungler when you go on a trip? Rather than say, a suitcase, which is how my dictionary translated it when I got home?) I've taken to designing my own lessons from the books I bought and asking her to go over my homework and follow my workbooks. So my frustration is legitimate. And in all honesty, she probably shouldn't be teaching. She hasn't had the proper training. But I honestly blame the school more than the teacher. They should have some sort of curriculum and some sort of vetting, and I really can't bring myself to get her fired. So I do Connie's little martyr act for a week and tolerate her basically wasting my time so that I don't have to confront her.

I know I must learn to be a little more assertive. But I really don't know how. And the funny thing is, most everyone who knows me, thinks of me as a very aggressive woman who always gets what she wants. And if you tell me you support the tea party movement because they will reduce the deficit, I will absolutely explain, in intense detail, why you are wrong. But that's defending others (honestly, my family did pretty well for itself under the Bush tax cuts. While I care about the long-term health of the country, my passion comes from the damage the Republicans do to the poor). When it comes to defending myself? I didn't ask my brother not to tell the story about what a horrible singer I was until I'd heard him say it a dozen times. I kept thinking he'd get bored with it and move on, as I got more and more and more hurt and angry.

Maybe I want a "Sir" I can look up to, who will protect and cherish me, the way I protect my clients and people who I think are vulnerable. I want to get to be vulnerable one for a change. Because I don't even have a clue how to protect myself the way I protect everyone else I love.

Ghosts

So here I am in my favorite town in Spain, and this is where I was more in love with John than I've ever been with anyone in my whole life. Actually, come to think of it, I was in love with two men here--John and a guy I'll call "Barry" (which was a different sort of crush and broke my heart more slowly). I was sick one night, and stuck in the hostel on a Friday night and said something like I needed someone to read me to sleep, and he kept sending me mp3s of poems he recorded for me. I suppose it makes sense that we were more perfect when we were on different continents. And I was also here just before Barry's inauguration and had to change my trip home in time to pick up my ticket .

So much hope for the future in this little town. And yet, that's OK. I remember where I was when I sang "I'm in love with a wonderful guy" (yes, on the outskirts of this little Spanish town--I'm sure they appreciated it!), and I can smile at the joy I felt and hope to feel that again for someone. Although I'm afraid Barry has broken my heart in ways that I doubt I'll love another politician the same. (And I wasn't even as into him as my friends. Alas, he just wasn't that into the folks that got him elected. I know I was going to try and not see the world through that prism, but oh, Barry, why can't you be into me and your progressive base the way we were into you? We adored you!!! Why do you pretend we didn't bring you to the dance? I'm cuter than John Bohner--really I am! And way more into you than he will ever be!!! Ah well, you've got those "God why don't you love me? Oh, you do? I'll see you later! Blues.")

Joshua seems MIA, but he hasn't checked in on CollarMe either, so we're going to go with 'he has a life' for the moment. Although I seriously doubt he just has a life. He's had too much of a life for me to not feel like I'm being blown off. Unlike me. No matter how much I pretend to have a life. But I have nearly finished the first article I'm working on. It will be finished by the weekend. Somehow, even the possibility of Joshua caring seems to have a good influence. And Romanian hostels with no wifi! But I wish he'd either show up, or tell me he's lost interest. One or the other.

The other guy, that I went out with once: he offered to fly over and spend the weekend with me! This is maybe the most romantic thing anyone has ever offered. It is funny--I tried to tempt John to do so 2 years ago, but he couldn't get off work. If Joshua offered, I'd be doing summersaults. I haven't returned the other guy's e-mail, and I'll probably laugh it off. It is SO sweet, and yet I'm SO not ready, willing or interested to sleep with him. Even if Joshua disappears completely, I'm not ready to sleep with the other guy. Willing to consider coffee again if Joshua disappears, however. I seem to have those:

God why don't you love me, oh you do? I'll see you later blues!
Those long as you ignore me you're the only thing that matters feelings!
Those: If I'm good enough for you, you're not good enough. ...
Those Don't come any closer cause you know how much I love you feelings.

Well, gentle reader (and yes, I expect the singular is appropriate, if you exist at all), I'm afraid that blogger is spell-checking this document in Spanish, so you'll have to forgive any typos.

2011

I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions, per se. But I do find it useful to stop and take stock of where I am in my life and where I want to be.

First up: Men. Or Boys. I'm not sure. The fact that "Joshua" didn't try to connect with me on New Year's Eve (he responded to a text early in the day, but nothing warm or anything) and another guy I went out with, that I'm less interested in and was sort of blowing off, called me at exactly midnight his time feels like it might mean something, but I don't know what exactly. I know Joshua was spending New Year's eve with his ex-wife and their child, and I really respect that. I do really wish he'd found ways to inch me into his life (especially since I know he went on CM more recently than he's called me). I sort of just feel like "He's just not that into you." And I know that I helped sabotage my relationship with "John" by automatically viewing our relationship through that lens--like he had to keep proving to me that he was that into me or else I'd allow my insecurities to shape how I viewed the relationship. Intellectually, I realize that it isn't all about me, and it is easier to surf the web casually than it is to call someone. Emotionally, however, I can feel myself disentangling from him, which is probably good. Even if we do live happily ever after, it all was going much too quickly, and frankly, I need much more information to have it make sense to trust him. The other guy is a sweet man, and if Joshua weren't in the picture, I'd probably be into him, but Joshua is and I'm not. (There's a third man too, whom I haven't met, but who is just moving to Seattle and we've talked a couple of months--he e-mailed me a warm e-mail to wish me a happy new year as well. And a couple of other guys who've been wanting to meet that I've been too busy to see.) I've been somewhat aloof with the others, figuring they'd lose interest. Aloofness doesn't always seem to have that effect on men. Maybe I should be aloof with Joshua. Lol. (From what I know of Joshua, me 'playing' anything, other than maybe chess, would drive him away. Sooner or later, he'd ask what I was feeling, and I'd be honest and he'd be upset if I was playing games. Or maybe I'm projecting onto Joshua, but I don't think so.)

He gets off vacation with his ex-wife right when I leave the country, so no phone calls, I'm afraid. But he said he would e-mail me some 'assignments' for while I was gone, so we'll see if he does. If not, that will be clear. I'm awfully glad we didn't sleep together. I will be sorry if things don't work out, but I'll be just fine. Once again. It's crazy what an impact sex has on my emotions. I can fool around and really not have it bind me emotionally. The guy I dated last year is the only man I've slept with that I wasn't devastated to lose, even though we'd slept together. (And I'd been pretty devastated in the 'losing'--just not in the final loss.)

I wish I could just e-mail and say: "Hey--I'm getting the sense that you have lost interest in me--if I'm wrong, let me know." But I feel like that would be needy--that if anything my neediness might have driven him away (there's nothing else that I could see that would have), but, objectively speaking, I really wasn't that needy. I did send him a text message and an e-mail the same day (the first time I sent a text--I didn't know if he got text messages or not). And I've sent him a few texts since then, letting him know in broad terms when I was free to talk (and when I wouldn't be free to talk). But I don't think 3 or 4 texts in a week is all that needy. But I feel like any display of interest defines me as too needy.

So enough about the boys. (Although it would be nice if at least one turned out to be a man.)

2010 was a very hard year, with John, but I feel like I've come through it much better than I began it.

I feel really good about the changes I've made this year. I'm in much better physical shape, and I'm going to do a triathlon this summer. I'm ice-skating again, working out fairly consistently and I'm enjoying the movement I'm doing. I want to get in better shape this year, but I've really done a good job and if I keep doing what I'm doing, I will. While part of my wants to set numbers, I think that is self-defeating. So just keep doing what I'm doing on that end.

In terms of dating, I think I'm in a good place. I'm really over John. I know I've said that before, but it is different this time. He's gone. As in dead. As in no more casual (and not so casual) e-mails. No more watching his blog. No more avoiding his part of town. No chance of ever seeing or hearing from him again. His memorial didn't feel like closure at the time, but it was in retrospect. I hope he's gone to another place or realm of being, or something. I wish him unconditional love and light and joy and warmth and some energy or being who can see him, see through him, and love him completely. But he's dead. I'm glad I knew him. I'm glad I loved him. I'm glad I knew he loved me, at least on some level. But he's dead. I intend to buy a new ring this year, but I am assuming I will find the ring I wish to buy when it is right. I'm not going out looking for it.

The kinky realm is feeling like it does make sense for me to stay in at this time, at least for now. But more and more, I'm thinking about experimenting with switching. I've noticed that this bifurcation in me is deep, but is getting less jarring. With Joshua I was able to switch back and forth in a paragraph (and I think he really enjoyed that). But it seems like my private, younger, more innocent side is the only side I connect with eros. I don't think that I have found a way for my polished, public persona to be truly erotic, and I wonder if switching might not be a really fun way to do that. I don't know, but that is something I think I might experiment with. If Joshua fizzles, as it seems to be. (There are a few other Dominant men I've been chatting with, and I'll probably keep chatting--no need to burn any bridges.)

Professionally: Honestly, until Joshua, this is the area I've been the least constructive at this year. I kind of hope I don't feel like Joshua has fizzled until I get done with Europe, because he helped me set a goal for my vacation that I'd real like to accomplish, and I doubt I will without feeling that firm guidance. I don't know why I can't seem to get anything done, but I just feel a little lost in that area. I'd rather find boys to flirt with on the internet. And update my blog….

My home: I moved to a beautiful house this year. You can see the Puget Sound from my back porch. But it still isn't well put-together. I seem to just really not accomplish anything when it comes to my home. (And I don't cook much either.) I think that I feel that I'm not worth putting together a lovely home for. I know if I had a family, I'd never live the way I do. But I think that maybe I need to put together the life I want, instead of waiting for the family.

So, my goals for 2011.

a) I want to be engaged by 2012. To someone I love, trust, respect and crave. Someone with good communication and fabulous sex. It isn't really a goal, because I can't do it on my own. But that's what I want.

b) I want to be in better physical shape. If I could hit a size 8 (a real size 8--not a Nordstrom's 8), that would be amazing, but I think it is a bad idea to set it as a goal. I want to be stronger physically (especially increase my cardio endurance) and eating a little less processed foods.

c) At least one article accepted for publication (by June 1). Preferably 2. And a full rewrite of the current romance novel (by June 1).

d) I'd like my home to feel as lovely and welcoming and holding as my mother's home. Probably it won't--she's had a hell of a lot more money and time. But I'd really like it to feel more like that and less like a grad student's apartment.

e) I would like to consume less media. My list of podcasts grew exponentially this year. I just unsubscribed from:

a. Keith Olbermann (3 and a half hours a week)

b. Washington Week in Review (half an hour a week)

c. BBC Global update (3 and a third hours a week)

d. TED Talks (I don't know how many a week, but I didn't listen consistently)

e. Fresh Air (I will still listen occasionally, but not the 5 hours a week I had been)

f. This Week (with Christiane Amapour) (45 mins a week)

g. Jim Lehrer Newshour (5 hours a week)

and a few others. What is scary is that is over 17 hours a week that I was listening to consistently. My life seems to be better when I listen to more music and less news. I need to do that.

Take better care of myself on a joyful, playful, loving, generous level. This year I started ice-skating again and playing on the swings in the park. I love both. I want to go to a water park this summer, and buy mangosteen even when it costs too much and ride in the front of a roller-coaster, even when it means waiting in line. I would go out of my way to make that happen for anyone I love, if they wanted to. I need to make it happen for me.

Well, it's midnight. Wheeeeeee…….. Happy 2011. To everyone. May John rest in peace and may all the rest of us find true, authentic joy.