Great Things to Come

So in my last post I took stock of a year gone by. In this one I’d like to look at the opportunities of a fresh year laid before me.

First of all, 2009 is already off to an amazing start. LC and I spent New Year’s Eve together. We didn’t do anything splashy or big… we just stayed at home together. We drank lots (and lots and lots) ate great food, and kissed at midnight. A couple hours later we slid in to bed. Together.  And when we woke up the next morning, he told me how much he liked waking up next to me, and wished me a happy new year. Now that’s a way to start a year.

So, for 2009 I don’t have resolutions. I do know some things though. I already know I will take a few risks. I already know I plan on holding back less and living more. I plan on letting LC in and letting him take care of me a bit. I am, in fact, already doing just that.

And maybe this will end with heartbreak. But maybe it won’t. And for once, for the first time in a long time really, I plan on finding out. That is my plan for 2009.

Now, if you all could wish a few pounds off my ass, that would really just make this perfect.

Not so bad after all

Well gentle readers, today is the very last day of 2008 and it’s been kind of a wild ride. I thought as a tribute to this past year, I might reflect for just a moment on what it has been.

First of all, it was the year that brought you this blog. So if you can find nothing else to celebrate, I expect to you to down a glass of bubbly to at least that much.

It is also the year that you all have learned about Asian Grocery Guy, The Friend, The Insinuator, The Manchild, Mr. Big, The Philospher, Possible Prince, Retro Boy, The Set Up, The Stalker, Tragic Sundae, my What If, Zombie Guy, and one guy who just never got a name. And of course, LC. Some stories were more significant than others. Some were heartbreaks, and some were just comedy. One story just ended, and one is hopefully just getting started. And although the names have all been changed, the events are all very real. And this year, 2008, was the year I got to share all of these things with you.

This was the year I truly learned to be my own woman. This was the first year in a long time I did not allow to be ruled or ruined by an ex-husband.  This was the year I rejected so many dates that I truly earned the title of One Date Wonder. And this was the year that title also became ironic as I started to settle in with one man.

This year I learned how to walk away. I learned how to heal. And most importantly, I learned how to take risks again.

So yes, 2008 brought me some bad things. I shed a lot of tears and felt a few heartbreaks. Sometimes I was so quietly desperate even you couldn’t hear it. But those aren’t the sum total of this year. This year brought me new friends, new confidence, and maybe even new love. And any year that offers all of that cannot be so bad after all.

2008 was a good year. And I believe, right down to the soles of my jaded little feet, that 2009 is going to be even better.

Happy New Year my friends! May 2009 be everything you wish for, and more.

This is going to be short because I don’t have it in me to write more right now. In a moment you’ll see why.

I ended it with my Mr. Big today. I know I should have done it sooner. And please no lectures about LC. Letting go of Big was the hardest thing I’ve done since my divorce. But today I did it.

Why? Because he has New Year’s Eve plans and never even thought to include me. Because I’m not allowed to meet his friends. Because I don’t know where he lives. Because he is too afraid of being hurt to take a chance.

That last one… it hits kind of close to home. It reminds me of me and LC. By holding on to Big I’ve been keeping LC at arm’s length too. And he has been nothing but wonderful to me. So maybe, just maybe it’s time to take a chance.

And to take a chance with LC, to take a chance at having what I truly deserve with another person… I had to walk away from something that would never live up to that. I had to walk away from Big.

And so I did. And I made him a Big Zombie. And if you’ll pardon me, I have to go mourn that for just a little bit.

Very very merry

My day is starting quietly here. I woke up in my apartment by myself with just a few minutes to relax and think before the Christmas rush began. With my decorations lit and Christmas carols blasting, I am thinking over the past year or so and where I am today. And dear readers, I’m thinking I’m one terrifically lucky one date wonder.

So I hope you all have a very merry whatever it is that you celebrate. You all are part of what makes my year so nice to ponder. I am going to go get dressed now for the rush of Christmas day.  Peace and blessings all around!

I get by

Recently I discovered a hot topic for singles that I am apparently on the unpopular end of. I thought my plight and my views might be more common, but apparently, I was wrong. (Don’t look at me like that. I doesn’t happen that often!) Judging by the responses to a few posts on Twitter this is quite the hot topic indeed.

What I’m referring to here is letting other people help you. A few weeks ago I had some car trouble. Now, I have a great mechanic and a system for taking care of such things. The shop is close to work and they will drop me off and pick me up again as needed. It works quite well in fact. I’ve been doing this for years. But that particular week, the shop closed before I could get my car and I needed a ride. All of my coworkers were gone and my local family members were not answering their phones. LC offered to help if I needed anything, and I had to ask him to give me a ride. It was way out of his way and pretty inconvenient for him, but he never batted an eyelash about doing it. I, on the other hand, felt terrible. I apologized all over the place. I grumped about it online. I pretty much hated the entire situation.

What came next were lectures from all sides on how being vulnerable is ok. Asking for help is ok. Showing a man your soft side like that is sexy. And the more the advice rolled in, the harder I railed against people. Now before I go any further let me say that I know asking for help is ok sometimes. And I let my friends and family support me when I need it. But since I live alone, I do like to be able to handle most things myself as leaning on those you love too much is a sure way to wear out your welcome. Still, I have in the past and will continue to in the future ask for help when I need it. But I do not like asking for help from people who are not established in my life like that. Why should I make someone who I’m just dating that important? We’re not talking about husbands or fiances or long time partners here. I’m talking about a guy I have only been dating for just over 2 months.

I am still railing against that advice. Why is it that a woman has to be needy to be sexy? Why are we not attractive unless we’re showing our soft underbellies? Why is it that independence in a man is a treasured trait but in a woman it’s a sign we just need to loosen up? When will we get over this already?

Personally, I find independence mad sexy. Men who can cook and clean and do their own laundry are hot. Because when a man is independent you know you are not needed in his life. If you are there, it’s because you are wanted. And that is the best thing ever.

My goal in life is to be wanted. I want to know that my partner can do it all himself. That he doesn’t need me to run errands, make dinner, iron, darn socks, whatever. That he can do everything he needs just fine on his own. He can support himself and have an excellent life all by himself. And yet, I am still a part of that life because he wants me there. I want my presence in a man’s life to be voluntary, not accidental. I want him to consciously choose me, not just default into having me around because I’m plugging some hole in his needs. I think being wanted like that and knowing it is one of the sexiest things in a relationship.

And why should it be any different for a woman? Why is it that I’m off putting if I don’t want to ask for a ride from some guy I’m dating? It’s not like we’re married or he has any obligation to me. It’s not like he’s an established part of my life. So why do I need to let him rescue me in order to keep my man? (And you may feel that’s an exaggeration, but I assure you the advice was clear on that point. Make yourself vulnerable to him or he won’t stick around. I was floored.) Why am I not sexy and desirable as a strong independent woman?

This weekend

The birds chirped. The angels sang. The clouds parted, and I’m pretty sure a freaking rainbow ended right at our room at the bed and breakfast where LC and I stayed.

Because we sealed the deal.

That is all.

Breaking up is hard to do

Back in August, I did a guest post for Ms. Single Mama all about my philosophy of breaking up. Recently a good friend reminded me of this as it became pertinent in my life for a fleeting moment (not with LC, just relax everyone) and I was reminded that I never posted this here for you. So, without further ado, I offer you my very own sage advice on how best to survive a break up.

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Unfortunately when it comes to breaking up, there is no magic bullet. No one sure fire way to erase the pain and move on. No path to avoid longing, or pain, or heart break. And no way to erase memories. It’s going to hurt. And anyone who tells you otherwise is a filthy liar. The only thing you can do is to develop a way to survive through the time it will take for your heart to mend again. And that’s what I’ve been invited here to talk about with you today. Because, of course, I have an opinion on this.

My breakup philosophy is pure and simple like the freshly fallen snow, and is called Dead To Me (DTM). DTM is a straightforward philosophy both simple in name and premise. Practice is deceptively difficult. In short, you new ex is now dead to you. No longer exists. *poof*

First you must explain DTM to all of your friends. Surely they have all been there, all love you, and all believe that ex was never good enough for you anyway. They will help to distract you, keep from talking endlessly about him, and definitely keep you from contacting him.

Regarding contact, here is the thing: Your ex is dead (to you). We do not call the dead on the telephone. We do not send the dead emails. We do not text the dead when we are drunk. The dead are beyond these means of communication. So when fully practicing DTM, all of these are automatically prohibited. As part of the DTM philosophy all of those means of contact must be erased. (Ladies seriously, in your cell phones? This includes saved voicemails, your contact list, text message history, and your recent and missed calls. I know all your tricks. Stop holding on over there.) Please also add any other means of online, telephone, cell phone, or other communication you can think of. Simple so far, right?

Unfortunately, sometimes the dead refuse to stay that way. These zombies of exes will pop up. They will want to just say hi, or be friends, or possibly have a booty call. Now listen carefully… have you ever seen those old horror flicks? The black and white ones, with the zombies? Seriously, would you go to bed with that? Hell no! Those are to be attacked with axes or burning stakes or something. Not welcomed back into your cell phone, or your MySpace, or your bed. Zombie sex…. just ick. Plus I’m sure that kissing a zombie results in you becoming undead yourself. And really, who wants that? Remember, if your pesky ex reappears, he is a zombie and is to be ignored.

On a more serious note, the last step is unfortunately the hardest. Even if you manage to stop contacting him and even if you manage not to let him wheedle his way back in, the part that no one can really help you with is making your heart forget. The purpose of DTM is to give you the room to let go. It is easy to imagine maybe things weren’t that bad and to get caught up in missing him. But for the most part, whatever did you in the first time will do you in again. That is usually the way way of things. So it is best to hold on to DTM instead of holding on to him. Hold on to your friends, not your zombie. I will not lie… it won’t be easy. But eventually, you will heal.

Taking your advice

So, I while back I asked for your advice. And, like the lovely readers that you are, you came out to tell me what you thought. While I have not said much about it since then, I did listen. I’m usually pretty good like that. And last night I took your advice. LC and I had the conversation.

I promise you, I approached him carefully. There was a conversation needed about some general logistics first, so I led with that. Just basic stuff… you know… have you been tested, are we exclusive, blahblahblah. I thought the whole thing was going down right then, but that bit turned out just fine. (He is getting tested and we are exclusive, for the record.) Then since we were already on the topic, I asked if we could just stay there for a little bit. He balked instantly because he knew where it was going. But to his credit, he stuck with it. Sure we could talk about it, he said, but it isn’t his best topic. So we soldiered on.

I was gentle, and careful, and kind. I promise you. And he responded carefully, but honestly. We talked a little about his past. We talked a little about our present. We talked a little about what could be done. Honestly, it was a sad picture he painted for me. In the end, I finally just had to point out that if this was a resolvable issue, isn’t it worth trying to resolve? And he agreed to go to the doctor, get tested, and try to sort all of this out.

In the end, I took the time to make one more point. I made him listen while I told him that I am attracted to him and I want to be with him. I’m excited by him. And if this issue is something that can be worked through, I will try to work through it with him. I want to. And I’m here. He thanked me. And I promptly changed the subject.

This morning I still can’t believe I did it. I can’t believe the thing I dreaded is done and we are still intact. There are no promises as to where the future might lead, but for now… for this one moment, we are resting on the same page. I am relieved.

Quiz Time!

This is scary because it’s true. A basic primer to me, in case anyone was wondering. Except my eyebrows are considerably less frightening.

Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz…

You Are a Bette!

Take Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz at HelloQuizzy

Turkey Day Recap

So….. right. I understand you all are waiting to hear how the great turkey day went down. Well… it went down quietly.

I hauled half of my kitchen to my mother’s place as hers is mostly empty. In addition I also hauled the booze, the potato dishes which were all made in advance, and LC’s homemade pumpkin pie. It took two trips, and LC lugged all of the heavy stuff quietly without a single complaint.

My mother’s place was hotter than the seventh circle of Hades. Seriously, I was pretty sure that’s how I was going to die… cooking in that godforsaken oven of a kitchen. I mean, the turkey may or may not have actually needed to go into the oven to get properly done. At one point I totally had to step outside just to survive. I finally made Mom open a window.

While I slaved over a hot stove, LC alternated between watching TV quietly, and snoozing quietly. A few times he wandered into the kitchen to make sure I was okay and to offer to help. He was booted each time as extra body heat in that tiny space was unwelcome. I started hitting the wine just in hopes that I would stop noticing.

The first time LC fell asleep my mother came into the kitchen to hover over me and look vaguely confused. “LC is kind of…. snoozing.” she announced scandalously. I think I was supposed to do more than shrug and throw her out again.

At another point I heard Mom out in the living room trying to hint around about getting her DVD player hooked up. She fished around but LC didn’t notice so she came into the kitchen to report on his latest action. I informed her he doesn’t take hints and booted her yet again. She directly asked him for help. He pretended not to notice. She came back in to report the conversation. I threw her out again.

So basically, as you can see, the day went like this.: I was cooking in the hottest kitchen on earth. Mom was getting on my nerves. LC was curled up on the couch with my mother’s cat trying desperately to stay out of the way and off everyone’s radar. Mom came into the kitchen every time he did anything to report on it. I got annoyed and tossed her out. Lather rinse repeat until the food was finally on the table.

Dinner was great. The only thing I managed to wreck were the brown and serve rolls, ironically. Everyone ate lots but it just wasn’t enough as there was even more leftover. Mom managed to lose all of her leftover containers so there was considerable shuffling over packing up the remaining food. LC thought he was escaping without leftovers which was a notion I corrected once we got back to my place. We cleaned up and got out shortly there after.

Two days later LC informed me my turkey was a little dry. Not only did I manage not to throw anything at him, but I also managed not to point out that it could have been due to the fact the he refused to take any gravy. And so no one was actually hurt.

And that, dear readers, was my Thanksgiving.