Thanksgiving--looking back

MaxEarnest and I broke up about a year ago and I started dating Tony seriously.  (It was actually last week, but since it was right after Thanksgiving, it feels like this week, since Thanksgiving is so late this year.)

It has been a hard year.  A year also where I feel like I made a lot of mistakes, but didn't learn lessons from them.  I miss MaxEarnest all the fucking time, and I know we couldn't have found a way for us each to get what we needed from the other--our lives were just too incompatible.  Tony was a disaster, but it took months before I started to see that.  He had on good behaviour for a bit.  Philip was likewise a disaster, and it also took time before I saw that. I seem to be having a dating slump, in part, perhaps, because I'm stretched so thin, I don't really have time for much.  (I'm working much too hard right now, and I also took on a volunteer gig that I thought would be a few hours a week and is, in fact, more like 15 hours.  I'm really exhausted, all the time right now.)

I feel more isolated than I have in 8 years.  I miss Dotty terribly.  I had a big fight with one of my oldest friends in March and we have never repaired that.  I started playing a stupid on-line video game and realize it has become my primary social outlet, other than work.  

I have been able to break a bad pattern this year.  Typically, when things happen to me that I don't think are right, I feel like no one ever stands up for me.  In two difficult situations this year, people stood up for me!

Also, my dad did something hurtful this year and for the first time, he really, really, really understood why I was upset.  He got it, and I feel like he respects my feelings in a way I haven't felt before.

I'm also learning to stand up for myself a little more.  There's a kinky guy from CM who keeps wanting me to agree I'll come over to his place and we'll have kinky sex, and I've been very clear about my limits.  I haven't gone along with what he wants, that wouldn't be good for me.  

But that's about it for learning or growing from things.  I'm tired and lonely and sad.  Not exactly a great thing to blog about. I wish I could have some revelation to make things interesting.  I'm beginning to think I'm hitting middle age...

Self-pity

I'm having a really rough time of it right now.

This has been a shitty year.  And it is almost my birthday and it just feels like it is a year of mistakes and sadness.

I survived.  But that's about all I can say for it.

I didn't realize how pathetic my life had gotten until Dotty came to visit.  We went to "our" bakery, which we go to whenever she is in town.  I also go there on my birthday and at the end of a real crunch season at work (provided I've stuck to my rules for eating sweets at work).  

My favorite bakery has stopped making my favorite treat.  And on one level, that is kind of not a big deal, right.  It's a fucking cupcake, chocolate with mint frosting.  What's the big deal?  And yet, my world has been a little shattered by the realization that I can't have this cupcake on my birthday.  And what is far worse is realizing how important this stupid cupcake has become in my life, because there just isn't a lot of good stuff in my life right now.  

On one level, I live a life or privilege and ease that so many people would envy.  I have enough money to buy anything I really want (but not everything I really want, but who needs that?)  I have autonomy, security and safety.  I own a beautiful home overlooking the water. I'm relatively healthy. What do I have to complain about?

But when did the highlight of my life become a god damn cupcake that I look forward to for months at a time?  What am I going to do on my birthday?  Last year, I took myself shopping at Macys and bought my fucking cupcake.  And that cupcake was lovely.  But I also had a lovely conversation with MaxEarnest.  But he stopped being interested in cyber-sex and he was in Europe and I was alone and I was so tired of being alone.  But now I'm even more alone. No MaxEarnest to look forward to; I don't even have a stupid cupcake.  I seem to have exactly what Obama conceded to the Republicans.

I walk along the water and I see so many people who have so little and I am in awe of how much I take for granted.  I know how silly it is that I feel sorry for myself. But the hole in my life keeps getting bigger.  It is a John-Dotty-MaxEarnest-cupcake-optimism shaped chasm.  And the tears come more easily.  

I think all I have left to look forward to for my birthday is taking a xanax that day.  That's probably how I'll celebrate. And that is maybe the saddest thing I've ever said.

Thin Skin

Life is sort of unerotic right now.  Philip disappeared and I let him go.  I'm pretty sure I could have easily gotten him to string me along for a few more months.  I think he liked me, but that isn't enough.  But the truth is, on our third date, back in May, he and I had a very kinky night in a bar (with our clothes on, but it was a lovely domination as he asked questions to find out more about me) and it reoriented my sense of eroticism and it is always hard to get that back.  Once I click on a guy, even orgasms on my own are much more boring and it takes time to unclick.  I'm totally emotionally open to meeting someone else now, but I haven't found my sense of sex for a bit.

But the rest of my life is kicking my butt; one of my jobs--a little one (should be 10 hours a month but has turned into 10 hours a week) is getting really abusive.  A woman on the project yells and bullies me in ways that I just cannot handle and I'm having such flashbacks to being bullied growing up.  It seems to be a xanax night most nights I have to deal with her.  I cannot believe how she is behaving.  She is insane (wants to fire a contractor because he is killing the trees--and her only proof is that we're losing a lot of leaves.  In October. In fact, he's such a bad contractors that trees all over the northern hemisphere are losing leaves and some people call this time of year "fall").  So I am standing up for people that she would like to fire so she yells at me.  And I fake it while she's yelling and then have obsessive crying fits until the xanax works.  Not the way I want to live.

I know that "normal" people would get so hysterical from someone yelling at them, but I have such thin skin. I don't know if I can ever get over the bullying I faced as a child.  The team leader on this project made it clear that if we're being productive he doesn't mind if I'm getting yelled at--what is the big deal (crazy lady yells at me and not at him).  So I don't know what to do.

It seems unfair that the only parts of me that are thin are my skin and hair.  But there it is!

In vino veritas

I'm very blue today.

I got drunk with a couple of colleagues from work last night, and I was the perfect uptight girl getting drunk. I wrote this last night:

I'm still tipsy  Been waiting to get sober enough to fall asleep and sleep through the night. Even after a litre of water, my system is still acidic.  If I fall asleep now, I'll wake up in a couple of hours.(But I'm sober enough to know that I should hit "save" and not "publish...")

I drank enough to let down my guard.  I really did!  I talked openly about sex and vulnerabilities, as I was expected to, but I made sure that the drunker I got, the more politically radically I sounded.  As if my political moderation was just a mask and I couldn't wait to let out the inner Marx.  

But I'm afraid, my real inner-Marx is Harpo: somewhat inappropriate and not very funny.  I'll put my knee in your chest, interrupt randomly and occasionally, I hope, do something that is lovely, but I'm not actually as clever as people think.  But that's OK.  I hid Harpo and let Karl take the stage.

Three times this month, people have said to me "you're one of the kindest people I know."  And all three times, they've gone home to fuck the person they lust after.  Kindness isn't all it is cracked up to be.  

This morning, I'm hung over, but also blue.  Last night made me feel really lonely because they went home together.  I was out walking along the water this morning and there were all these families.  And Philip, well what do I saw about Philip?  He seems to want me in his life, but not enough to make me a priority.  I'm tired of having to push him to go out. I want him to want to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him. I feel like we've been treading water.

I hate the amount of control I cede to a man that interests me.  Quickly.  Intellectually, I resist.  But he ends up controlling my moods and I find myself bluer and bluer when he is distant and then when he saunters back, I immediately perk up.  The ironic think is that Philip has told me that he disappears when he is blue because he doesn't want to make me blue.  I've never told him how blue I get when he disappears.  I shouldn't allow my moods to be so dependent on his attention.  I know I shouldn't.  I try to stay busy.  More than try--I'm very busy.  But I would always make time to see him when he wants to see me.  But I just don't think I'm a priority.  

And I want to be someone's priority.  SOON! I was washing my face and I looked so old in the mirror when I smile. It was a shock to see!  But, I suppose I smile a lot.  And I want to keep smiling.  But truth is, I think I'd be a lot happier if I were a hot bitch than a  kind woman.

Dark Flashes of the Soul

I seem to be in a weird sort of transitional moment.  I continue to see Philip, and we continue to be primarily platonic.  Part of me thinks he is interested; he certainly spends time with me like he's interested.  But I'm less and less confidant that anything will come of it.  Of course, I seem to like him enough that when I spend time with other guys, I mostly just miss him.  But I don't seem to be a priority for him and I don't see him shifting things to make me a priority, so there it is.

I don't think it is just the issue with Philip, but I have these flashes of crippling sadness.  My life feels so pointless.  I feel like such a failure.  I cannot actually believe that no one wants to spend his life with me.  So many people think I'm a good person.  But no one wants to compromise enough to be with me.  And I'm willing to compromise.  I was willing to quit my job and move to Berlin with MaxEarnest.  I would have married John, if he'd wanted me.

I was shopping in a typical United-States discount home-wares store today.  I haven't been in a store like that for a long time.  But they had such lovely things!  The quality of our 'stuff' is so very high.  And I bought lots of stuff I didn't need.  Like a dish brush that is a decorated like a flower with a flower face. A purple spatula.  Did I mention that it is purple!  So much purple is available right now.  I am sure it is a trend and won't be available next year and purple makes me happy.  Some amazingly beautiful glass serving bowls.  They are truly stunning--from Turkey, but a different style than anything I saw when I was there.  And I bought a pedestal cake plate.  And I started to cry.  Because I have no one I could make a cake for.

A lot of people appreciate me.  But, aside from my mom and Dotty (and my cats) no one who loves me.

It's odd.  John and I were both scared we were unlovable.  I think the fact that we shaded that secret with each other is what bound us together. But I loved him so much; I know he was wrong.  And I know he didn't love me that much. No one has proved me wrong.

I know my parents love me.  And now they like me.  But they sure didn't like me growing up.  My parents did the best they could, given the cultural currents of the time.  The "Me generation" wasn't really focused on being parents.  They never stopped lovely me.  But it would have been nice if they'd liked me; empathized with me; listened to me; respected me.  I know I'm too old to blame my parents.  So I guess it is just me at this point.  And there are a few people  who "love" me.  But no one would make a compromise to be with me.  A lot of people tell me I'm one of the kindest people they know.  A lot of people rely on me for help with day-to-day life.  And I think I make some of my clients' lives substantively better.  But if I died, my mom and Dotty are the only ones who would care, or even remember in a year.

So that's the self-pitying, crippling flash of depression.  But it is very short.  I was shopping at that store, and walked past the little-girl row, awash in pink, and it was all I could do not to cry. I want to create a home to share! But then I was past that aisle, and there was a purple blanket that was so soft.  And so I did what so many Americans do; I bought a new blanket. I went to work. I accomplished a couple of things. Sure my old blanket was perfectly fine. But it wasn't purple.  And this one is soft enough to cuddle next to and forget that I am alone.

Ice Cream

The sound of the ice-cream truck wafts through my windows.  I wasn't even thinking about food, but it calls.  I resist, but it takes a lot of energy to resist.

I'm working out with a personal trainer and he wants me to quit eating any ice-cream at all.  None. For two weeks.

On one level, that seems reasonable, but I can't do it.  I limit myself to 200 calories of ice-cream a day (on good days).  On days when I think about not having any for 2 weeks, I eat much too much of something else.

What is is about ice-cream?

I was talking with a very thin friend of mine (let's call her Twiggy) and she has a friend who is less in control of her eating than I was 40 pounds heavier. According to Twiggy, the other woman is eating an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's just about every day.  That is around 1200 calories a day of ice-cream, give or take.  And there are days I've done that.  Now I get out my scale and have 120 grams of Edy's slow-churned, with lots of fruit, most days.

What is it about ice-cream?

For me, ice-cream, more than any other food, is love.  My favorite memory ever with "the ex" was a night when a blog I wrote (on a different site) really took off.  I had about 700 comments and he was so pleased, went out, bought me ice-cream and fed me little bites while I blogged.  It was so sweet.  It was so loving.

I have many lovely memories of MaxEarnest, but ice-cream probably what I miss most about Europe (although not MaxEarnest).  We would go to this cafe and he'd order coffee and buy me an ice-cream sundae.  It was such a sign of love.  Such a sign that he knew he I was and accepted me as I was and wanted me to be happy.

I haven't figured out food since MaxEarnest.  I'm kinder with my food.  Much more gentle.  Before MaxEarnest, I didn't really allow myself to enjoy food.  Too dangerous.  Now I have ice-cream in the house (but only Edy's slow-churned vanilla--anything else I will eat much too quickly).  And I only have it with fruit.  I even let myself have Trader Joe's triple-ginger ginger snaps.  But only crumbled over ice-cream (and I think I've had about 4 tubs of them in the last year.  Shockingly, the current ones are actually stale--I used to not allow myself to buy them because I could eat a tub in a couple of days.  Honestly, I probably ate a tub in a day one time.  I don't remember, but I wouldn't be surprised.)

So I'm much more in control of my eating.  I let myself buy a 6-cup container of Edy's every week (1 cup has 200 calories, and is 120 grams).  And I'm enjoying food more.  And I'm 10 pounds heavier than I was.  I don't know how to balance that.

But the thought of giving up ice-cream makes me want to eat. Cupcakes. Tarts. Cookies. Much higher in calories and not actually as lovely as ice-cream.

Standards

You are the promised kiss of springtime

That makes the lonely winter seem long...

(oops--wrong standard...)

I spent the weekend with Dotty--she had a friend's wedding to attend on my coast, but only really had about 8 hours of time requirements spread out over 3 days.  I flew down to meet her and we spent the weekend together.  In addition to Dotty, I hung out with her friend that got married and also met Dotty's cousin, that cousin's husband and their friends.   I really liked Dotty's cousin and their friends.  They seemed lovely, grounded, joyful, engaged, smart, funny, plain people.  So much of the world I travel in feels very image conscious.  I'm far more image conscious than I ever thought I would be.  These people were the people I always wanted to be.  But I feel like men, for the most part, judge me on my looks first and foremost, and I've just sort of resigned myself to that being the way it is.  I still don't do anything extreme, like wear daily makeup, but I do an awful lot to try and fit into the rather small box that is conventional feminine beauty.

 Dotty's friend tried to set Dotty up with two different men and Dotty had no interest in either.  One was boring and the other was a little blah.  It made me realize that Dotty and I approach dating very differently.  Dotty needs a reason to be interested in someone.  I need a reason not to be.  Or maybe, I should put that a different way--being kinky is enough of a reason for me to be initially interested in a guy, barring something else. I think I treat vanilla men the way Dotty treats all men.  And  if I've been out with a kinky guy 3 times, and I'm still not interested, I let it go, but for a date? I totally don't expect to have a "this-is-what-I-like-about-this-man."  

Although, that isn't actually true.  There are men on CM who have 1-line profiles and they write me one-line responses.  One, recently, had a Boston Redsocks hat in his profile photo, so I asked if he was from Boston, since I grew up in the area. I also asked what else we might have in common and he said "No--I just like the Red Socks. What we have in common? I'm a single Dom."  I ignored all his other e-mails after that, because to me, the lack of an ability to start a conversation (and my profile is super-long, specifically so someone can identify where we have common interests!) was a reason not to go out with him.  (I think I actually do that with lots of men--I really do expect someone who can carry his half of the conversation, and when his profile is non-existent, I expect him to carry a lot more than half.)  But I don't think of that as high standards.  I just think of that as necessary.  Dotty meanwhile has what I consider crazy-high standards.  Dotty is absolutely convinced that we will both fall in love with men worth marrying; I'm not at all convinced for myself, and even less convinced for Dotty (as she doesn't do on-line dating, only considers men with graduate degrees and is very, very picky even with those requirements).  I think she is the most amazing person.  I love her SO much.  But I guess i don't have a lot of faith in the universe for either of us.