The one that got away, your first love, your true love, Prince(ss) Charming. If you date, then you have one who fits those monikers. Mine involved a passionate love affair when 19, and agreement that when he moved out of state then that would be the end. At the time I thought the best I could do, the most respectful thing, was to honor that agreement. It's now X years later, we still communicate and sporadically see each other. He is still the one I love, the one in the forefront of my brain, and heart, when thinking of love. There is still connection, a feeling of loving acceptance combined with joie de vivre and intellectual stimulation, my confidant in all matters but one.
Since that fateful decision, we've both moved on with our lives, leading wonderful fulfilling existences, pursuing our interests which never seem to sync, or to facilitate co-existence. I look forward to our time together with girlishly gleeful enthusiasm and longing, then feel the deep sorrow of loss each time we part. Our time, my memories, are bittersweet. Despite all that's passed between us, I secretly harbor the hope that, at some point in the future, we will be free to be with each other for the progression of our days.
And yet, after our most recent escape, I find myself doubting, losing that hope. I find myself in mourning, not for what could have been, but for the possibility. Rather, the loss of possibility....
17.11.07
10.11.07
Wee Bit o' Heaven
Being spared further inconveniences from sundry aforementioned males, I was free to barrel out of the flat this morning and explore the local city market. My only regret is that it took me this long to investigate it. Housed in a beautiful restored Victorian red-brick market building, the city market offered a veritable plethora of tantilizing treats. Fresh baked breads and pastries, spiced olives, delectable local cheeses, fresh and cured meats, exotic spices, fresh fruits and veg, all interspersed with local crafts and tasty cooked food vendors.
I showed great restraint, however, resisting the near-overwhelming urge to engulf myself with every type of cheese, meat, and bread on offer. Now residing in my kitchen are two types of olives, four types of bread, fresh chili flakes, gobs of cherry tomatoes, onions, and three types of blue cheese. This last is especially remarkable when one takes into account that I am a certified cheese-a-holic!
Now that my tasty hoard is safely home and secreted away, I can enjoy a lunch of black olive bread, green and kalamata olives, Wicklow Blue (creamy brie-style pasturised cows milk blue cheese), Crozier (soft, tangy sheeps milk blue cheese), and Shropshire Blue (mellow full-flavoured golden semi-hard blue cheese).
Hmmm, think I should go work out this afternoon....
I showed great restraint, however, resisting the near-overwhelming urge to engulf myself with every type of cheese, meat, and bread on offer. Now residing in my kitchen are two types of olives, four types of bread, fresh chili flakes, gobs of cherry tomatoes, onions, and three types of blue cheese. This last is especially remarkable when one takes into account that I am a certified cheese-a-holic!
Now that my tasty hoard is safely home and secreted away, I can enjoy a lunch of black olive bread, green and kalamata olives, Wicklow Blue (creamy brie-style pasturised cows milk blue cheese), Crozier (soft, tangy sheeps milk blue cheese), and Shropshire Blue (mellow full-flavoured golden semi-hard blue cheese).
Hmmm, think I should go work out this afternoon....
7.11.07
Masculine Irony Redux
Continuing on the theme this week, I received a voicemail from the Ex asking if I was okay. My instant reaction? WTF!?! Why would I not be okay, when he was the one going pear-shaped? Ugh. Thanks for reminding me why I broke up with you.
Even more theme-like: it appears the creepy flat mate is sussing me out as dating material! I'm not interested in anything remotely resembling dating right now, much less dating someone who talks incessantly about random, non-sensical stuff in an accent I can barely understand (or maybe it's just his quasi-stuttering).
By the way, for all you interested men out there, here's a hint: do NOT assume you know more about a subject than the person with whom you are discussing it, especially if a) it is not your area of expertise, and b) it IS my area of expertise.
When will it end?
Oh, wait, perhaps I should be careful what I wish for....
Even more theme-like: it appears the creepy flat mate is sussing me out as dating material! I'm not interested in anything remotely resembling dating right now, much less dating someone who talks incessantly about random, non-sensical stuff in an accent I can barely understand (or maybe it's just his quasi-stuttering).
By the way, for all you interested men out there, here's a hint: do NOT assume you know more about a subject than the person with whom you are discussing it, especially if a) it is not your area of expertise, and b) it IS my area of expertise.
When will it end?
Oh, wait, perhaps I should be careful what I wish for....
Masculine Irony
When it rains, it pours. Boy howdy, is that ever true this week! After returning from a 'dirty weekend', one where parting always leaves me morose, I received a phone call from the most recent Ex. Conversation is civil and friendly, until he launches once again into how miserable he is, how desperate, without me. When that fails to elicit his desired response, the emotional blackmail turns nasty. I finally manage to extricate myself from the tedious conversation after a waste of 1.5 hours.
I'm now feeling completely wrenched and emotionally drained, when the next morning I receive an email completely out of the blue from a way-former Ex whom I haven't heard from in more than 10 years. Fortunately, it is a simple, unoffensive email. The last time a way-former Ex contacted me, it turned into a cliched debacle; his idea of romantic reuniting was a 3-way on his couch with another woman he claimed was 'just a friend'.
So, what next? Will my first-ever Ex pop up and claim he's no longer gay? Will my next-to-most-recent Ex notify me of his apologies as part of a 12-step AA program? Will an earlier Ex drop in to hide out from the cops for pulling a knife on his former girlfriend (or so she told the cops)? Will a still earlier Ex randomly send me a new feather bed to replace the one he defecated upon in a drunken stupor?
Perhaps I should write a book...'Case Studies in Single Women Dating', or 'Crazy Dating Stories from a (Relatively) Sane Woman'....
I'm now feeling completely wrenched and emotionally drained, when the next morning I receive an email completely out of the blue from a way-former Ex whom I haven't heard from in more than 10 years. Fortunately, it is a simple, unoffensive email. The last time a way-former Ex contacted me, it turned into a cliched debacle; his idea of romantic reuniting was a 3-way on his couch with another woman he claimed was 'just a friend'.
So, what next? Will my first-ever Ex pop up and claim he's no longer gay? Will my next-to-most-recent Ex notify me of his apologies as part of a 12-step AA program? Will an earlier Ex drop in to hide out from the cops for pulling a knife on his former girlfriend (or so she told the cops)? Will a still earlier Ex randomly send me a new feather bed to replace the one he defecated upon in a drunken stupor?
Perhaps I should write a book...'Case Studies in Single Women Dating', or 'Crazy Dating Stories from a (Relatively) Sane Woman'....
30.10.07
Dreary Humor
The skies are still gray, gray, gray, with intermittent drizzle (the anti-windscreen wiper), but some written responses to questions gleefully provide humor to combat the dreary days.
"...less biasness is observed and not as much human consciousness contributed to where the transect is set."
"...involved a survey to investigate sexual attitudes and lifestyles in twentieth century England and Whales."
I'll post more entertaining responses periodically. As for now, I'm calling it a night!
"...less biasness is observed and not as much human consciousness contributed to where the transect is set."
"...involved a survey to investigate sexual attitudes and lifestyles in twentieth century England and Whales."
I'll post more entertaining responses periodically. As for now, I'm calling it a night!
28.10.07
SAD backwards weather
No surprise, but it's raining here; "squalls" would be the correct terminology. In seeking out tomorrow's weather forecast, I found an interesting atricle on the BBC website, weather section, discussing the time change to GMT and the effect of winters in the UK. Did you know that:
* 1 in 20 people suffer from SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) in the UK
* in the middle of winter, nights in the UK can be 15-19 hours long
Although I've lived through a winter here, it still surprises me how little light there is during the days, especially when you consider that the daylight hours tend to be grey and overcast.
It didn't take much to figure out I was affected by SAD, just a few weeks of inexplicable crying bouts, not wanting to get out of bed, and feeling miserable and hopeless. Once I made the connection, I quickly acquired a sun lamp. This one is pretty cool: it mimics dawn and dusk, waking me up gently to a 'sunny' morning, and allowing me to get a good 30-minute dose of light therapy before even crawling out of bed. Surprisingly, this does wonders for my winter blues. Who knew a little full spectrum light could go such a long way....
* 1 in 20 people suffer from SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) in the UK
* in the middle of winter, nights in the UK can be 15-19 hours long
Although I've lived through a winter here, it still surprises me how little light there is during the days, especially when you consider that the daylight hours tend to be grey and overcast.
It didn't take much to figure out I was affected by SAD, just a few weeks of inexplicable crying bouts, not wanting to get out of bed, and feeling miserable and hopeless. Once I made the connection, I quickly acquired a sun lamp. This one is pretty cool: it mimics dawn and dusk, waking me up gently to a 'sunny' morning, and allowing me to get a good 30-minute dose of light therapy before even crawling out of bed. Surprisingly, this does wonders for my winter blues. Who knew a little full spectrum light could go such a long way....
24.10.07
Poomacha Witch
As fires continue to rage across southern California, some witty, frustrated residents find humor in the fire's names. The Poomacha fire and the Witch Creek fire merged to become the Poomacha-Witch fire. Beware, lest the fearsome Poomacha Witch curse you with her evil eye! Rice Canyon fire and the Horno fire may meet up to form the Rice-Horno fire. Was this fire started by Condoleeza Rice after mistakenly referring to Pres. Shrub as her husband? Brings to mine the B-52's song, "Monster (in my pants)"....
Anyways, for those of you with friends and family in the San Diego county area, here's a link to the Wildfires 2007 blog. It's a decent source of very up-to-the-minute information relating to all things SD wildfire.
Anyways, for those of you with friends and family in the San Diego county area, here's a link to the Wildfires 2007 blog. It's a decent source of very up-to-the-minute information relating to all things SD wildfire.
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