Random Thoughts on Specific Things

Three Months Later...

2010-11-06T16:54:00.002-04:00

I just read my last post about the new man in my life and where we stood after just a couple of dates. I was worried that he was rushing into this and wouldn't be able to keep it up.

When guys come out of the gate and get so intense so soon, either there's something I can't live with or (more often) he loses interest almost as fast.

Today marks three months since our first date and I could not be happier.

Brian is a perfect gentleman, sweet, romantic, intelligent, funny, and has a fantastic body. We enjoy many of the same things when it comes to dating and spending time together. And yes, sexually, we're perfectly compatible. It's amazing.

I feel like we've been together far longer than three months. We've reached a level of comfort with each other that seems more like three years -- only with way more sex!

I may regret typing the next words but I'm doing it anyway. I want to marry this man. I love him and want to live my life with him. He makes me feel as though THIS is why I had to stay single all these years. I was waiting just for him.

I love you Brian. Happy three month anniversary.

Too Much Too Soon?

2010-08-21T11:39:00.001-04:00

As I sit here in Baton Rouge Airport, I can think of little else besides my upcoming reunion with the new man in my life.

Since I've been away for work and he has been on vacation, we have maintained constant contact in some form or another. Mostly, he has been texting me or writing sweet emails.

Within a day or two of leaving, he was texting how much he missed me already. It just so happened that I felt the same way. I, too, was riding the high of our successful first dates and really wanted to see him again. But the open expression caught me completely off guard.

Alright, it didn't just surprise me. It also got me to thinking: is this already moving to quickly? Why is this guy so fast to declare himself? Is this a really bad sign?

Now, if you read and believe books like "He's Just Not That Into You", you know that when a guy is really into you, they will go out on that limb. They will try to see you again immediately and spend a lot of time with you. However, this has just never been my experience -- even with the ones who really liked me.

Plus, I'm just so jaded from all my bad experiences. I find it really difficult to believe that this will be anything more than any of the other pathetic romantic outings have been: an exercise in futility and an ego crushing sadness.

I'm trying to return to DC with an open mind and open heart. I so want to believe that he is a really great guy who really likes me and has good intentions.

Despite the fact that history has taught me that it just isn't likely.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Long Distance with a Local Guy

2010-08-15T23:16:00.001-04:00

A few months back a new man appeared in our NOAA office. I saw him around sometimes, but he wasn't in my division. Tall, handsome, and very personable, I knew he had caught the eye of many women in the building.

By early July, I was put on the oil spill communications team and was suddenly in meetings with this man. I'll admit, I was curious.
No wedding ring.

He doesn't really fit the manager mold in our office. He dresses casually and usually sports a little beard growth. But there was always something attractive and interesting about him and I feel myself drawn to him.

So it came as a very pleasant surprise when he started to flirt with me and approached the subject of dinner. We went back and forth and I made a date with EBH for Saturday night. Not satisfied to wait, he asked me to coffee the next morning.

That was a Friday, so he emailed me that afternoon to go to the local wine bar after work too. It was fabulous. We sat and talked for five hours without noticing another person in the place or even the time flying by.

Sometime during the evening we kissed and it was fantastic. By then, I knew it would be. The kind of kiss that makes your mind go completely blank for at least a minute after.

Our date Saturday night was also fabulous except I preferred the more intimate setting of the wine bar to the loud restaurant where we sat a mile apart at a huge table.

This man brought me flowers for our date Saturday and rode the Metro all the way to the airport to see me off to Baton Rouge, Sunday. I've had a silly grin on my face ever since.

Now, every fiber of my being is screaming: Don't get too excited about this. You get excited, and then it goes right down the toilet.

But I want to get excited. I want to let myself enjoy this. I want to fall in love dammit! I want to ignore the red flags for a little while and just LIKE him without worrying that every little thing will turn out to be a major character flaw and I will end up alone and embarrassed again.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Clarity is Such a Drag

2010-07-12T21:48:00.001-04:00

I hate these moments. I'm cruising along through life, just doing my thing, then all of a sudden, WHAM! Clarity.

It's then that I can see what is always staring me in the face, but I so deftly avoid seeing. Oh, sure, deep down inside I know what's there. But denial is a powerful self-preservation tool.

Almost a year ago, a couple of friends began revealing to me the degraded state of their marriage. The husband went farther: he propositioned me after the wife had gone to bed. He suggested that we be friends with benefits.

For eight months he persisted. For eight months I demurred, denied, and squirmed my way out of ever doing anything. Sure, there was a drunken kiss I regret to this day. But I was so careful not to lead him on. I actually worried about his feelings. Unreal.

I wasn't particularly attracted to him. I always thought of him as my goofy neighbor. This man has never made a secret of the fact that he wants nothing more than to save his marriage. So what the hell does that make me? He professes to adore me and have nothing but the utmost respect for me, but how much respect could he have if I'm nothing but a plaything? Someone to fill the physical void left by his wife.

As to the clarity I first wrote of: I am so keenly aware that I was treated as little more than a whore he was trying hire.

See, clarity is a drag.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Techno-babble

2010-07-11T10:19:00.001-04:00

First, let me say that this post is really just a test to see how well this blog manager for iPad works.

When I bought my Apple iPad I was immediately enamored and failed to notice some of the drawbacks. One of them being that I can easily update my blogs but for some stupid reason, I cannot post photos. Such a simple thing and so frustrating to be unable to do it!

As the commercial says: "There's an App for that!"

For a mere $2.99 I can manage all my blogs, post, and have PHOTOS! Supposedly. That's the purpose of this post. I need to test this wonderful app. So let's get started, shall we?

The posting process is simple so far... Type the blog entry as an email.
I am about to click the little camera icon up top to add a photo.
Since I posted about my new job at NOAA, let's add a photo from my recent business trip to Juneau, Alaska. Here I am hiking to the top of Mt. Roberts.

Wow, not bad. The photo is embedded in the email. I should try another...

This is a shot I took when I hiked to Mendenhall Glacier.

Now the true test. We must actually post this baby. Gonna hit save and cross my fingers. Hopefully, I will be reading this just like you are on my blog!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

A Whole New World

2010-07-10T20:43:00.003-04:00

As I was trying to create a new career by going back to school, a funny thing happened. I started to run out of money! (imagine that!?)

Faced with tuition, rent, and my last $10,000 in savings, I began looking in ernest for a new job. Just something I could live on, but not commit to, while I was finishing my degree. I considered Starbucks and applied for administrative assistant positions but made no progress.

It was January when I received an email from my friend, L, instructing me to send my resume to her husband, P, immediately. There was an opening at his office and they would help me get my foot in the door. We were way beyond Starbucks, now. P is in a power position at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA). This job was through a federal government contractor, so I applied with IMSG and began the interview process at NOAA. I didn't land that job.

A few weeks later, P told me there was a job opening for which I am infinitely more qualified and that I should submit my resume for that position instead. I applied to be a Communications Specialist in the Office of Habitat Conservation, interviewed, waited anxiously, and finally landed the job.

But this was no "job". This, as it turns out, is an entire career. A career I really love.

Some of my infatuation, I'm sure, is the novelty of it all. I am so clearly in the honeymoon-phase of this career. However, even in the most stressful moments and after the longest days, I have such an intense feeling of accomplishment and pride in what I am doing.

It's not just the work, I like many of the people with whom I work.

I still don't miss radio or regret the decision to leave. And now with NOAA to fill my need for mental stimulation, I know that this was fate. I was meant to move on to this whole new world.

The More Things Change

2010-05-17T22:43:00.005-04:00

I spent months trying to make something happen with LDB. I knew he wanted me but I couldn't seem to make it happen. Now I have confirmation.
LDB was trying to connect and we finally managed to have a conversation longer than 5 mins and not in the form of text message. We covered all the usual things before I got up the nerve to ask him if he was seeing anyone. Of course, the answer was yes. He said it wasn't serious. That it was light and casual. It still cut me in half.

He said that he was trying to be careful because he knew I wanted a serious relationship and that he couldn't give me that, but he wanted to keep me in his life.

I was hurt, so I told him what I have been doing. I lashed out and I know it hurt him.

I admitted to him that I knew we could never be more because he wants children and I can't have them. This he doesn't believe -- or doesn't want to accept. For every reason we weren't right for each other that I brought up, he found ways to counter it. But the underlying pain when he said that he was glad I "have someone" and that I'm "happy" and that he doesn't have to worry about me...it betrayed him completely.

Where the f*** was this when I needed it? Why couldn't he say these things when I desperately wanted him to want me?

He sat theree tonight telling me how hot and fun I am. What a cool girl I am. He even said over and over what an amazing mother I would be. Now. He says this NOW.

Unbelieveable.

Meanwhile, I have heard NOTHING from the other one. NOTHING.
I was so arrogant. So full of myself. I actually believed that the problem would be that HE would get all moony over ME. That his feelings would be strong and misplaced and cause issues.

Yet again... The joke's on me.

Distractions

2010-03-03T10:38:00.003-05:00

It's too funny.

For years I refused to get caught up in the hype that surrounded many of the books, movies, and TV shows which became popular during my years in radio. Frankly, most of them were geared toward teens and I just flat-out could not relate (not that I ever really made the effort).

One of the projects Mark and I both avoided was the Twilight series. The first of the "tween" books came out in October, 2005 and quickly became a phenomenon. However, no one expected us - at the ages of 30 and 38 - to read the books. Shortly after this, Mark and his wife even became addicted to High School Musical but still seemed to ignore the whole teen-emo-vampire extravaganza.

Even when the Twilight movie came out and we interviewed Ashley Greene (Alice Cullen) and I ADORED her, I still didn't cave: these books and movies were for for screaming teenagers! I DO NOT like vampires. It's beneath me! AND, Robert Pattinson is NOT that attractive!!! (She says, *sniffing* with her nose in the air)

But the seed had been planted. I was getting curious. I was seeing more and more older women reading the books and I started toying with the idea. Perhaps after my long list of Tudor reading, I would consider it.

Life became complicated with being unemployed for more than a year, fighting with my sister and lack of a love life. I wasn't even getting the same escape from my Tudor books anymore. I needed something new, so I took the plunge. I'd watched the Twilight movie on Showtime and didn't hate it. I ordered the novel the next day.

Within a few chapters, I knew I had to order the other three books so that there was no wait-time between. That was it, I was hooked. It proved to be the distraction I needed.

Oh the irony - now I would LOVE to have the radio show to use it as a cover for my new addiction!!! (Not to mention the movie premieres and interviews with the stars!) Ugh... I'm pathetic.

The Ebb and Flow

2010-03-01T11:47:00.002-05:00

I have moved from my English basement apartment in NW DC into a townhouse in Silver Spring just blocks from the Woodside neighborhood where I owned my first home. Besides moving for the benefit of in-state tuition, I needed the peace of mind that the neighborhood would provide and the green space for Bailey. It has been working out very well - I love it here.

That alone has helped buoy my mood for a couple of months but there was a genuine contentment there as well. I finally felt settled.

Over the past two weeks, I've noticed something creeping in again. I can't put my finger on it. It's not exactly sadness -- at least not yet. But it's definitely a restless or empty feeling. Sadly, I know this feeling well. It's my cycle of depression that abates for a while and then returns with a vengeance.

At least I'm rational right now and can think it through... that won't be the case if/when hits.

It's a little like laying on a beach and feeling high tide coming and knowing that there will be a period of time where my head will be under water and I won't be able to breath. I know that the tide will ebb but I won't know when I can breath again. I will panic but I will let it take me because I have no control. Darkness, despair, etc...

Sometimes I fight it and sometimes I let go and allow it to consume me. I'm just not sure which I will choose in the coming weeks.

Goodbye Honey

2010-03-01T11:23:00.003-05:00

Although this will mean little to anyone else... I want to take a moment to say goodbye to a woman I'd known since childhood. Honey Hartman was my best friend's G-dmother, although that title does not do justice to the relationship with Sam and her family.

I so vividly remember being curious about this tough-as-nails woman with the thick German accent and being somewhat terrified of her. Honey was not just strong; she was a force of nature.

Over the years I learned so much about this woman's troubled history and began to understand her a little better and the fear subsided as my respect for her grew. There was also no lack of amusement when Honey was around.

Silently, I send my love and condolences to Sam's family and to Honey's children.

Been Too Long

2010-02-26T21:27:00.005-05:00

I haven't written in such a long time... but not for lack of things about which to write.

A few of them needed more time in my brain before they could take shape in words. Some were just passing fancies that never really earned a place in my blog and some have needed to be aired out for months.

The topic that needed time to ruminate was the decision I made in September to re-establish communication with my sister Cathy and her family.

When tragedy struck her family with the death of my niece, Kier, I ignored EVERY cell in my body and agreed to fly out to Las Vegas to mourn with my sister. I was so torn: be there for my sister in a time of need or maintain the separation that has been so successful over the past 16 years.

I was lulled into a false sense of stability by the three daughters who were communicating with me on Facebook already while their mother was not online... yet. By the time they told me my sister Cathy needed me, I was sucked in mentally. But something deeper was screaming at me NOT to do it. Why... why don't I trust my intuition more often??? The trip was a disaster; a waste of both time and money I didn't have.

As I wrote at the end of the year, after the funeral, my sister joined Facebook and began emailing and posting non-stop. Her posts were sometimes nonsensical, mostly rambling and often insulting. One was downright anti-Semitic. She showed her Cathy colors again in sending me a letter about a month ago telling me how much SHE did for me when I was a child and how little my beloved Aunt Esta Ann did. She finished off by indirectly saying that I am not a good person. So by the time she and my friend Liz started ripping into each other last week, I'd already had enough.

When my health began to deteriorate under the stress, I made the decision to write a letter to Cathy telling her I no longer wanted any communication with her whatsoever. I did my level best to avoid nasty digs or insults but to still be firm. I made it clear that I don't feel the same way about her children and they have the option to stay on touch or move on. Then I deleted her from my friends and blocked communication on FB. So far Brittany, Jerin and Nikki are still on my FB list and posting on my page. (I know Nikki understands and I assume that she will stay in touch as long as I don't put her in the middle)

This decision was not made lightly and I have had a very tumultuous few weeks mentally and physically.
I have been agonizing over the guilt I feel about not being loyal to family versus the damage caused by all the drama and chaos.

So although I moved quickly to put an end to this, I am still in the process of reconciling my decision.
Specifically: how can I complain about not having love and a family in my life when I have made this choice? I thought I had a great capacity for unconditional love, yet I am putting conditions on my biological family. Clearly I have a way to go on the reconciliation.

The Remains of the Year

2009-12-25T19:41:00.001-05:00

The past few months have brought a few surprises, both good and bad. I hardly know where to begin...

Let's wrap-up the whole LDB thing first. Once LDB and I struggled through our communication issues around Thanksgiving, I began to understand a little better what was really going on. Of course there were underlying factors and I just wasn't aware of what they were.

For my part, I knew I was having a hard time getting to a place in my head and heart where I could really trust him again. For his, I now believe that depression was driving his erratic behavior. During our last conversation he made some very telling comments about having everything he wanted and how he should be happy, but feels numb. This understanding allowed me to relax and accept the situation a little better.

I finished my first semester back in college in December. I studied so hard and put in dozens of hours but still ended with a major disappointment. Biology was hard but never really an issue for me. I'd maintained a low A or a high B throughout the semester. However, I struggled through physics all the way. By mid-term, I'd pulled my physics grade up to a B and could finish with that as long as I scored a C or better on the final. After never scoring lower than a 70 on any exam in physics, I failed the final. I still cannot wrap my brain around how I only got a 47.5!!! I studied diligently and it didn't feel difficult while I was taking it. I'm baffled. Embarrassed. Sad. Disappointed. I finished with a C for the semester. The grade is perfectly fine and will be acceptable to the Diagnostic Medical Sonography program but I expected so much more out of myself.
Speaking of the DMS program, I am applying next month despite the very long odds of being accepted this coming year. I still need to figure out what I'm going to do for another year.

The unexpected death of my twenty-two year old niece opened a door with a portion of my family, which I would have been happy to keep closed. I just don't know how to act around them. I can't be myself because myself is very judgemental and I have no desire to hurt them. It's not as if they've hurt me, we just have nothing in common other than our blood. My sister has discovered the joys of Facebook and is now in constant contact. The other sister remains estranged - her choice.

I'm getting ready to move, yet again. This basement apartment is adorable but the lack of space and the dangers and discomfort of the city are too much for me to handle. I am going back to the Woodside area of Silver Spring and by June, I will have a roommate. My old next door neighbor, Liz, is leaving her husband and needs to be near-by for their daughter. I don't particularly want a roommate, but I am facing a very difficult money situation next year and this will bring my spending in line.

My head has been spinning with so many things as this year comes to an end. But I think I'll save that for another post...

Over and Out!

2009-12-11T16:37:00.004-05:00

My worst fears were recognized and my last two calls to LDB went into voicemail. One directly and yesterday he let it ring and ring.
He never called back or replied to my dinner invitation which really bummed me out.

I'd crafted a pretty nasty letter - in my head. But in general I decided to just let it go.

He texted me Happy Hanukkah in Hebrew the other day. While there's no excuse for his not calling back or replying to my invitation, he has been incredibly busy with his mother visiting from Israel, work and their trip to San Francisco to see his brother. All of which I did know about but forgot.

The important thing is that we are not in a "fight" or playing some silly games. Being angry at LDB is really hard on me. It consumes me and makes it hard to think about anything else. Not what I need during final exams.

Losing Focus

2009-12-06T19:13:00.004-05:00

How very sad.

I embark on a whole new life, leave behind a twenty year career and go back to school for a brand new career... and all I can write about in this blog is LDB.

I am about to wrap up my first semester and get good grades and move forward in this entirely new life and all I can think about is the fact that I called him this week, left a message inviting him over for dinner, and haven't heard a word back.
I tried. Nothing more I can do.

But I HATE that it's making me feel so sad. I hate that I feel like crying.

Pushed too far?

2009-11-27T11:46:00.004-05:00

Things only got worse with LDB. Let me rephrase that: I MADE things worse with LDB.

The anger I felt from the week he was in NY spilled over into the following week, mixed with severe PMS and baked-up into an unhealthy BAD ATTITUDE. He finally called me on Tuesday - twice. I didn't answer. I was pissed and sent him directly to voicemail where he left no message.
I didn't call him back and my attitude sank even further.

Finally, I texted him Happy Thanksgiving on Thursday and I received another curt reply: "U2".
Wow... thanks.

Today I broke down and texted again: "Did I piss you off?"

I got a phone call back that started with him going off on me that I need to see a doctor because I'm crazy. That he called me three times and I never call him back. He said he thought, "Maybe she's in class or maybe she's away for T-giving..." but when I didn't call or text, he decided that's it, he's done. He thought about where I was. I want to cry now.

He forgot himself for a few minutes and told me about his drunken T-giving with his friends... but he was detached again by the end of the short call and sounded like he didn't care whether we talked again or not. I got in the shower and let myself cry.

I am afraid that I have blown it once and for all.

My brain is working overtime coming up with what to do next. Do I start calling and paying him attention? Pretend none of this happened? Explain to him why I haven/t been calling? Move on and forget him?
What the hell do I do now???

It Figures...

2009-11-21T18:03:00.002-05:00

The moment I acknowledged my feelings for LDB; shortly after I committed them to this blog, I was shown exactly what I mean to him.

I haven't heard from LDB since I left him that evening. Not a call, email or even a text. I thought perhaps he was testing me. Perhaps he was tired of being the only one to make contact, so I went ahead and called him. It went straight to voicemail. Later that same night I texted him and he replied, curtly, that he was in NY for the week and returning Friday. When I asked him to call when he had time, he never answered.

Watching my favorite show as I write this I am reminded of Anne Boleyn's words about Henry VIII to her father: "They say all his liaisons are soon over. He blows hot, he blows cold..."

On the one hand, once again, I was able to focus solely on my schoolwork. No more silly fantasies about LDB actually wanting to be with me in any real way now that he is moved into his new, single life. No more staying up half the night, tossing and turning in my bed, imagining his hands on my body and his mouth on mine.

THIS is exactly the situation I was trying to avoid by not allowing myself to show him any affection. I wanted just one sign that I could trust him but it never seems to materialize in any real way. Unless and until there is some sort of grand gesture, I will remain unavailable to LDB.

Now I Know

2009-11-12T21:41:00.008-05:00

Nothing has changed in my relationship with LDB: we are still - frustratingly - platonic. We text, we call, we talk. We have the occasional evening together.
One major thing has changed in LDB's life: for the first time in 7 (?) years, LDB is living alone in his own apartment. I know how huge this is, and even that is probably an understatement.

He moved in Sunday and by Monday night, I was invited over. This made me very happy. My actual visit may have seemed like nothing special to anyone else but it left me more sure of my feelings for him than ever before.

On the surface, the night seemed like nothing special and almost didn't happen. LDB missed my call at 6, stopped by his boss's house to pick up more stuff, didn't get home until 9... I was annoyed. But he still wanted me to come over, so I went.

The moment I pulled-up at his new building, I realized where we were... this was where I met him 5 years ago living with the woman who would become his wife. It all came flooding back immediately. As I walked into the lobby I remembered everything: walking in with IA, being insanely nervous, being introduced to LDB at the door as I entered. I remember their apartment, the furniture, the dinner and eating cherries on the balcony. I remember LDB cooked. I remember his smile in the night air across from me on the balcony. And I remember thinking I had a crush on this guy - my boyfriend's best friend.

Tuesday night was slightly different. No boyfriend, girlfriend or wife. We were all alone in a different apartment that looks vaguely familiar.

Like the past few times spent together, this was relaxed, easy, comfortable. We laughed, we teased each other, we stood in his kitchen drinking tea, eating cookies and talking for an hour. Then we moved to the living room to watch TV.

Without a thought or hesitation, he lay next to me on the couch and put his legs up on my lap. Like we do it all the time. I loved the assumption. After a few minutes of more complaining about his back pain from moving, I offered a back rub. He rolled over and I sat on him and tried my best to work out the knots. I was sweating from a combination of working so hard and touching him. His skin was so smooth and soft. I kept looking at the freckle just above his waistband and to the right of his spine. The desire to kiss the back of his neck was almost overwhelming.

After the massage, he sat up and gently touched my arm and said "thank you". There was a split second I thought something more might happen. I thought maybe he would lean in and kiss me. He didn't. But there was something in that touch on my arm. An electricity. Just touching my arm, he made my heart beat wildly.

Because he gets up so early for work, I told him to tell me when he was ready for bed. Kick me out. But he didn't. Finally at 12:30, I decided I should go. He walked me to the door, but instead of even hugging him, I practically ran out. After all these years and all we've been thought, he still makes me nervous! I felt like I was 17. (and acted like it)

My endorphins were pumping so hard that I was wide awake thinking about him until 3 AM. Tuesday night gave me a clarity about my feelings for him. I now know exactly how I feel and what I want... and yet, NOTHING else has changed.
I don't know what he wants, how he feels or if I can trust him not to devastate me again.

What I want

2009-11-02T11:26:00.007-05:00

School has been a great distraction. It has really helped keep me from feeling lonely or sad about being alone and single.
Even though I tell people (like LDB) that I couldn't possibly have a relationship right now because I am too busy and focused on school, I wouldn't exactly say no to a relationship with the right man.

A few months ago, I was propositioned by a friend's husband. I was having dinner and wine with this couple, and boldly announcing that I need a "friend with benefits" so that I don't have to deal with this relationship crap. This was before LDB began calling again and right after my summer of idiot boys. This couple happens to be splitting-up and the man took my FWB speech as a cue that we could be of service to each other. The wife even contacted me to let me know that she would be fine with it.

I gave it a try. I kissed this man to see if there was chemistry. There was not. But even before that, I had so many apprehensions that I doubted it would ever happen. Even with the wife's permission, I was uncomfortable with the situation.

Here I am now, comfortable with being alone, but wishing again that I were not. It's not necessarily a desire to ONLY be with LDB... but more of an abstract feeling that I'd like to have that intimacy with someone. I don't need or want to go out and be wined and dined, but to have someone who will let me put my head on his shoulder... or sleep on his chest.

I miss that moment when someone takes my hand and I feel like the most special person on the planet.

Looking back over the past year, I realize I've had men on both ends of the spectrum of a relationship: either all sex or only friendly intimacy.

I certainly don't expect perfection... but I would really like the imperfection of trying again.

Mixed Emotions

2009-10-28T11:16:00.004-04:00

As I think back to the time I've spent with LDB recently, I am left questioning my own feelings almost as much as I question his.
Nothing about this situation is normal - including MY behavior.

I thought this before, but last night confirmed: I am not my usual self around him. I am not, in any way, putting on an act or trying to be someone I'm not. Just the opposite. Perhaps it's more appropriate to say LDB brings out a different side of my personality.

I really like that the time we spend together is always instigated by him. But this is not exactly an exclusive invitation. He goes out all the time with various cousins, friends and a ton of women. He's not dating them, but he's certainly spending lotsa time getting to know lotsa different chicks! And yes, I often hear about it. He is full of swagger and stories on the phone but never does it to my face - which I also find telling.

But back to my behavior... it's just plain different from who I used to be when a man I like comes over. Usually, I will be very anxious and nervous. I am never nervous when he calls or he's coming over. I'm happy - to be sure. But not freaking out. I calmly prep the house, prep some fruit to snack on and I have been perfectly relaxed while he was over. (although, the first night I did sit looking at him wondering the whole time if something would happen? Pathetic!)

In fact, relaxed has been an understatement. Both times now, we have sat or lay on the couch watching movies in comfortable silence. Laughing at the movie, but no real conversation. Both times, he was starting to fall asleep and last night so was I. He even remarked how comfortable it was with the warm fire in the fireplace and laying back on the couch. I love that he feels comfortable but wonder if he finds spending time with me boring? I keep thinking I need to plan entertainment for the next time.

When there is conversation, I am not the main talker or the story-teller. So many times I've looked back on time spent with a man and thought I was "on." I felt the need to perform and entertain him the way I would at a personal appearance. Everything that I hated about my life while I was in radio. I wasn't "me," I was "Kris Gamble."

When we are talking, I am far quieter than LDB. I defer to him. He tells the stories and makes the jokes and I laugh and ask follow-up questions. I even catch myself holding back compliments and not expressing feelings if I think they will make me look like a lovesick puppy. (This is CLEARLY a reflex from our past and my pain)

I am left wondering about my feelings for him and whether my behavior is a sign?

Perhaps I'm just feeling cautious because I don't really believe this is going anyplace and I don't want to get my hopes up or get hurt again?
Maybe the feelings I have are just more mature and calm thanks to our very difficult shared experience and length of time we've known each other?

I don't think I can ever really know until my feelings are put to the test. The test will come when he either tries to have a relationship with me or has one with someone else.

Old Habits Die Hard

2009-10-14T10:17:00.004-04:00

For the first time in a LONG time, I'm in a terrible mood.

Even my disastrous trip to Las Vegas for my niece's funeral didn't leave me feeling as angry and upset as I do now. It's all tied to the events of this week and it's all my own fault.

Sunday afternoon I got a call from LDB saying "Hi" and catching-up. Ever since our talk about our feelings, I've been better about calling and texting him but still laying back to let him call me. At the end of the call, he asked what I was doing that night and if I wanted to do something. Cutting to the chase, we agreed that he would come over to my house and we'd watch DVDs or TV.
We sat on the couch and watched The Hangover. LDB - from the start - was fidgety and couldn't seem to get comfy. I offered to let him lay back on me and promised not to touch him. He did and I kept my promise - NOT EASY.

Once his head was on the pillow in my lap all I could think about was him. Touching him, kissing him... anything! I stared a lot. I still think him one of the most handsome men I've ever known. He was careful not to touch me.

After the movie, I thought he would go, but he asked for another cup of tea and we watched House. (I was in heaven! House and LDB at the same time!!! Two of my favorite things in my living room!!!)
By midnight he was falling asleep and got up to go. At the door, once again, he did a quick hug and ran out. I can only assume he thought I was going to try to kiss him? Run LDB, run!!!

I had an intense week of exams ahead of me and all I could think about was LDB. I was SO angry with myself for losing focus again. For weeks all I thought about was school and merely spending a night on a couch with LDB changed all of that. I was in such a good place and I'm walking right away from it. And for what? Deep down, I don't really believe that LDB will ever want to be with me, seriously or long-term.

Following swiftly on the heels of that visit, I had my first physics exam and I did NOT DO WELL. Proof positive I lost focus.
Part of me is angry with myself for having LDB come over instead of studying Sunday night. I really believed I had a grip on the material. I got a 70. I am devastated!!! I cried. I don't think I ever cried over a grade before. Granted, I passed. And the professor's policy is to drop the lowest exam score, but I am still SO disappointed in myself.
I've been on the phone with Craig getting tutoring and this was likely to be the easiest of the tests this semester - all of which doesn't bode well for me.

I fell back into all my old depression habits and now I'm struggling to change my behaviors back again: including regaining my laid-back attitude toward LDB. Not easy when he calls again Wednesday and we talk and laugh for 1.5 hours.

My feelings about school are more straight forward: Failure is NOT an option.

You Like Me; You Really Like Me

2009-09-30T12:17:00.004-04:00

A few weeks have passed since my last posts about LDB and the situation has shifted almost as often as my feelings about the situation.

Although I vacillate between wanting him and not, it's not always dependent upon his behavior as it was in the past. For instance, he called me while I was in Las Vegas for my niece Kier's funeral and again when I got home. At the end of the last phone conversation he asked me to call him back. I said I would but never did. I wondered what he was thinking over the next few days when he never heard from me, but still didn't feel moved to call him. I felt like I had nothing to say. If I wasn't going to flirt or express my real feelings or really be myself, what would we talk about?

He called back yesterday evening on his way home from work and my lack of calls and texts came up almost immediately in our conversation. Now, I SWEAR I wasn't being manipulative or playing "hard to get" but I admit to being pleased with the results.

When our friend, IA, asked how things are going with me, he told him he thinks I'm playing "hard to get". Just the fact that they're talking about this speaks volumes. It told me what I needed to know - but I had to pursue it and find out how he feels about me.

When he told me about a woman who is pursuing him and commented that she's "effable," I had to draw the line and bring up MY feelings. I told him that hearing him say that some woman is effable makes me sick to my stomach because I still have feelings for him. I stumbled through it and didn't say it like that - but had to say it.
Eventually, he said he still had feelings for me too, but that he's not ready for a serious relationship or even dating.

It was all I needed. It settled so many of the unsettled feelings I had. My constant worries that he was jerking me around for his own vanity were driving me insane just as they had a year and a half ago.

Maybe we'll never be together... but I won't have to live the rest of my life wondering if I ever meant anything to LDB.

Resignation and acceptance

2009-09-11T11:40:00.005-04:00

Conveniently, LDB has been absent from my life for a few days now and although my imagination continues to create lovely fantasies of our life together, it has allowed me to better control my conscious mind where he is concerned. I guess that is the best for which I can hope? That he will be an occasional visitor in my world and I will learn NOT to love him?

My greatest fear now is the prospect of his dating. I do not know how I will ever face seeing him with another woman. It was one thing to know he was or see him with his wife. Besides her claim being established far before I even met his friend, IA, deep down inside I never gave his love for her very much credit. That was clear in the intense joy I felt at being told that he had a crush on me.

I can't help but to find myself wondering how he feels about me now. I suspect I know already and that scares me because I assume he feels nothing but the warmth of friendship and shared history. But I know for a fact he has thought of more where I am concerned.

He mentioned missing me. He also talked of remembering what a good kisser I am. If you feel nothing but a friendly inclination, do you dwell on such things as these? However, I am likely reading into these things. I am probably projecting my desires upon him and his occasional, feeble recollections.

My brain is fighting violently with my heart almost daily.

Stop it!!!

2009-09-09T09:37:00.006-04:00

He has made it clear and if I continue to ignore it, I will be very sad and hurt.

LDB is NOT playing games. He is NOT leading me on. He has NO interest in me and that is clear. If I continue to dream about him and think about him and make efforts to make him want me, I will end up devastated again - and I will have NO ONE to blame but myself.

It MUST stop now. Stop thinking of reasons to get in touch with him. Stop finding things to do with or for him. Stop reading into his flirty remarks. Really. Stop.

It's YOUR fault this time, not his.

He DOESN'T WANT YOU.

(Buying into this yet?)

Not in a Million Years

2009-09-07T22:13:00.004-04:00

So there I am in the middle of the whole "Life Makeover" thing when a really weird thing happens...

This was my first week of classes and it was a busy one! Besides biology, I also had my best friend's brother, Jamie, coming to stay over for one night with his son, Aidan, after an MLS game at RFK.

I was waiting for Jamie's call to pick them up from the metro Wednesday night when I got a message on Facebook from my long, lost ex, IA, asking for my phone number. It had been a year and a half since the LDB debacle and curiosity got the better of me and I gave it to him. While I waited for the phone to ring, I got a text message. FROM LDB.

That's right. THE LDB. The one I blogged about right here (and in the Florida Times-Union). The LDB for whom who I fell so hard a year and a half ago. The LDB who was married and had no business being with me at all. The LDB whom I could not make happy. The LDB whom it took me so many months to get over.
I've spent some 18 months mentally repeating "I hate you, I hate you" every time his face popped into my mind. And that was often. And here he was on my phone. Again.

After a brief but highly informative back and forth - he learned that I lived in DC again and I learned that he was divorced - he asked what next? I answered, "Call me." And he did.

We talked for 2.5 hours. And again the next night for 2.5 hours. He called six times between Wednesday and Saturday. He emailed and texted. He asked me out to dinner. I went.

I can't even write this entry the way I normally would. I can't sit here and type every word we said, or wrote. He wrote and texted and said just enough to me to let me know that he didn't forget me. Just enough to tell me he still thinks about me and us together. Just enough to make me wonder what he wants now. It seems to be that he means only to make amends and be friends again.

I am in such a strange place. At exactly the moment when I let go of any and all desire to be with a man and found happiness alone, LDB found me and insinuated himself back into my life. Even as nothing more than a friend, this man has a gravitational pull which cannot be denied. He makes me want things and dream the dreams I stopped having after my miscarriage in January of 2008.

My sad, feeble imagination takes everything he says and explores it for the most miniscule hint of affection or desire.

I will not admit it aloud, not even to closest friends: I love him. Still. I want him. I think about him and dream about him incessantly.

Who knows why some people affect us they way they do? It certainly isn't rational. I cannot explain it but he is still the very picture of all I ever wanted and hoped for myself in regard to love, family, home and happiness.

In reality, I don't think it will ever happen.
I am fairly sure he will never love me the way I love him, or the way I want to be loved. Now, I must find a way to not only live with that knowledge - as I have these 18 months - but to live with it while he actually remains in my life.

School Daze

2009-08-31T09:28:00.006-04:00

I sit here today on the edge of an entirely new life.
I am incredibly excited and scared and equal to the challenge that awaits me.

Tomorrow, I begin taking college classes for the first time in 20 years! The task of going back to school and getting a degree would be daunting enough, but to top it off I am not yet accepted into the Montgomery College program of my choice (Diagnostic Medical Sonography) and run the risk that I won't be accepted by the deadline March 1.
Despite counseling with an advisor, plotting and planning, I will not have all of the required classes completed by the deadline and they could tell me I must wait an ENTIRE YEAR before applying again.
Of course, I am going to introduce myself to everyone in the department, try to befriend and charm them and then beg to be allowed into the program. I will have to play the unemployed 41-year-old card. And any other card I can find up my sleeve.
The prospect of not being accepted into the program frightens me far more than anything else.

I expect great things from myself. I demand nothing less than a 3.0 in every class, if not better. I want to achieve and prove that I can do this and I'm NOT just a trained monkey on the radio. Okay, then, at least I'll be a BETTER trained monkey.

Dans mes reves...

2009-08-11T11:55:00.003-04:00

Is anyone out there as affected by their dreams as I? I am, at times, so moved by the people and events in my dreams that I take action in my waking hours. Most often, I have called people in those dreams especially if I haven't spoken to them in a while or if we need to talk over issues.

I have been told by trusted advisors that dreams are our brain's way of working out things we may not be able to work out during waking hours. This makes an incredible amount of sense to me, especially when I look back at the dreams I've had about the relationships in my life. However, what fascinates me are the dreams I have about these relationships when the men are no longer an active part of my life.

My dream last night is a perfect example of these mysterious blasts from the past. I had a very detailed, in depth and realistic dream about my first love, Joe Dare. Over the years, I have dreamt more of Joe than anyone, save my mother. Joe and I have little contact anymore except for the occasional note or posting of photos on Facebook. He is married and the father of two gorgeous children. I cannot lie; I have had days of looking at photos of his family and thought, "it should have been me." I mean absolutely NO disrespect to his wife, but I always believed we would end up together and that I would have a family with him. In fact, when the opportunity presented itself for us to finally consummate our long-time feelings, I backed down out of deference to his (now) wife and my relationship at the time.

Once again, he appeared in my dream last night as he does about once a month. Sometimes the dreams are physical, sometimes not. No matter what the level of sexual activity between us in the dream there is ALWAYS a feeling of deep love and desire. The troubling part is the fact that I usually awake with those same feelings. Even now, many hours after that dream, I am tearing up thinking of how much I will always love that man.

I know, without a doubt, that I will never again be in a relationship with Joe Dare beyond friendship. Rationally, I have accepted that fact and I am happy that he has found love and happiness with his wife and children.

But I also know that there is a place - deep inside my brain or maybe my soul - where I haven't let go of him or the dream of being loved by him or spending my life with him. It is from this place that these dreams and my tears spring. I want so desperately to be at peace without Joe, not only in my waking hours, but deep within my soul.

Considering it been 20 years since we were last together, I'm starting to think I'm never going to get over him.

Why I Don't Date

2009-07-29T11:57:00.005-04:00

I have so many things running through my mind. So many things I'd like to write about but I hardly know where to start!

When I returned from England, I was transformed. I had a whole new lease on life and immediately used my better humor to socialize and get out and about more. One of the first events in which I participated was a tubing trip down the Shenandoah River with a bus-full of strangers!

My former co-worker, Lisa, was organizing a variety of events for her birthday and I immediately signed up for this one. I talked my friend Misha into going with me and we set out early that morning from Arlington.
All-in-all it was a very fun day of floating, laughing and drinking a LOT of beer.
During the course of the trip, a young guy named Alex struck up a conversation with Misha in Russian: the native tongue for both as A.M. is from the Ukraine. Slowly, A.M. also started floating closer and closer to me and began flirting. At one point, instead of holding on to my tube, A.M. was holding my hand.

We exchanged numbers and had a few dates in the following weeks.

I was sad and irritated when, after three dates, A.M. stopped calling and completely blew me off without a word.
Two weeks after that, he wrote me a feeble email on Facebook which SHOULD have just read: "It's not you, it's me." The funny thing is, I was over it by the time he sent that pathetic email and it just pissed me off all over again!

More than anything, I was mad at myself for getting involved at all. I knew from the start that there was no way this could end well but allowed myself to be hopeful. Thankfully, it was only three dates and thankfully I'd only just begun to *think* I really liked him. Ironically, that thought entering my head the night of date #3. Oops!

It is a shame he couldn't be more of a stand-up guy about it in the end because I would have LOVED to have a "Friend with Benefits" again. If nothing else, we had excellent chemistry in bed and it would have been fun!

Idiot.

What July 4th Means to Me

2009-07-04T10:31:00.006-04:00

Today is the 4th of July and like every year, I am thinking of my mother. Most people think back about Christmases or birthdays but no other day of the year brings memories of my mother, my childhood or my home rushing back like July 4th. As a result, I love this day.

A fan of all things colonial America, my mother loved our home in Riverton, NJ: a thoroughly colonial and historic little borough in the northeast. She would have preferred to stay in Massachusetts but I do believe this was the next best thing and it brought my family back home to be near our other relatives.

Riverton is one square mile and was, for the most part, completely charming. It's a combination of colonial and Victorian style homes and has that small-town feel. Our home was situated right on the main road in town and was ideally located away from traffic and near the Delaware River and yacht club.

Being on Main Street, we were in a prime position for the annual Fourth of July Parade. Every year, my mom planned everything from start to finish to revolve around the parade, our front porch, our pool, tons of food and drinks. We're talking a party that started just before the parade at around 9 AM with coffee and pastries from Klipple's Bakery, continued through to the backyard BBQ by the pool and wrapped with fantastic cakes and pies we made ourselves.

Aunts, uncles and cousins would come for the day, friends who didn't live on Main Street would gather on our wrap-around porch and watch the parade.

My mother was in her element. Not only did she love everything about this town, this holiday and the celebration but she loved being a hostess of such a fabulous summer day of activity.

This is how I prefer to remember my mother. She had many faults and I will not attempt to beatify her just because she is dead. However, for my own happiness for the rest of my life, I choose to look back at my mother when she was at her best and happiest. July 4th was usually just such a day.

If you were here, Mommy, I would ask if you remember making that huge cake that looked like the flag? You let me help and it not only looked great but tasted amazing. Everything you baked or cooked was wonderful. I know I complained like an ungrateful little brat and even made you make separate meals for me. I was a terror! Like so many mothers, you never got the recognition you deserved. You were an amazing cook and wonderful baker.

Every wonderful memory I have about this holiday is thanks to you.
I love you and miss you more than you can imagine.

Subjected to Testing

2009-06-23T10:18:00.007-04:00

Just taking a moment to write here about what I have to do in the next few days that is scaring the living HELL outta me!

After all my procrastination and lazing around, I finally had to make some decisions about my life and put the plan into motion.
Luckily, my trip to England had the desired effect of clearing the cobwebs from my brain and I came home ready to get started on a new career and a new life.

I still harbor my dreams of writing (finishing) a book and studying or writing also about Tudor England, but I'm no longer deluded into believing I can pay the rent doing either.

I haven't made the information public yet, (I'm fairly anonymous here) but I have decided to go back to school - Montgomery College - to *try* to pursue a career in Diagnostic Medical Sonography. That's doing ultrasounds and sonograms. I haven't chosen a particular specialty yet but I will have to soon - if I get into the program. It is not enough to want to do this, you need to qualify and be accepted into the program by the college.

To get in, I must take a placement test and then pass the required pre-requisite classes before March 1 of next year. I have an appointment to take my test tomorrow afternoon. I am so freaking scared! I need to do well in math and I have NEVER done well in math!

Yes, I have been reviewing and studying but I am still worried I will do very poorly on the test.
Moreover, what the hell will I do if I can't get into the program?

Which Jane Austen Heroine Am I???

2009-06-22T16:28:00.005-04:00

Love this cute quiz...
Being a big Jane Austen fan, I had to see which Austen heroine I would be and no surprise at all:

Take the Quiz here!

iPhone, Therefore I Am

2009-06-19T09:14:00.006-04:00

Today is the day!
Apple has launched the latest incarnation of its iPhone, the 3G S.

Anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE my iPhone.
When I went to England last month, the loss of my iPhone on the way to the airport nearly brought me to tears. Living without it for two weeks was a struggle.

I have owned an iPhone for the past two years and in that time upgraded from 1st generation to the 3G. Although I hadn't owned my first phone long enough to upgrade without paying a penalty, the charge was covered by the sale of my 1st generation iPhone on eBay for almost $400! The 1st generation phones could be jailbroken and used on carriers other than AT&T, which made it more valuable than a new 3G which could only be purchased with an AT&T contract. (Without would cost an astronomical amount!)

I could do the same thing this time around - sell my 3G on eBay and upgrade to the S with a penalty. My current contract doesn't expire until December 2010, so I am not eligible for the upgrade pricing. Sale of the 3G would likely offset some of the price of the new iPhone, but since I am unemployed and about to start college again, I am not really in a position to pay any extra money for the latest gadget - which I don't need, but want.

So, if you're still with me and you bought an iPhone 3G S or know someone who did, please send me a note! Leave me a comment and tell me what you think! Is it super-fast? Is this your first iPhone or can you compare? What do you love or hate about it?
Tell me... I need to live vicariously through you!!!

Long Lost Love

2009-06-15T09:50:00.003-04:00

I was poking around on Facebook a bit this morning and decided to check out the pages of some old high school friends. Despite all our silly, immature fights and break-ups we were all able to become cyber-friends.

One page led me to another and finally I landed on JSD's page. This was not my first visit to his page, nor was it the first time I looked through his family photos. I am always moved by them, but in different ways depending on my mood and place in my life at the time.

Today, I am happy and hopeful for the future. My trip to England renewed me and gave me a HUGE boost to my self esteem. And yet, I reacted more to JSD's photos than I have in years. It was not, however, the photos of his children or his wife which stirred my emotions. It was JSD himself.

The first thought (besides damn he looks so good) was this: Will there ever come a time where I can look at him and not feel my heart beat faster? Will there ever be a time I do not get a lump in my throat? Will I ever, as long as I walk this earth, not love this man?

It has been more than 25 years since I first met him in person and more than 30 since I first began hearing his name amongst my friends. All this time and I can close my eyes and see his 17 year old face kissing mine. I know that you never forget your first love but are most people able to remember these details? It's not even that want to remember this clearly. I have thrown away all of my journals with detailed accounts of our relationship and purged my life of all memorabilia. It's not that I look at him and yearn to be with him as I used to... I just feel this overwhelming sense of love for him. I just don't know what to do with that.

Moving My Tudor Stuff

2009-06-11T12:19:00.002-04:00

For those of you who look at my photos and see only "random buildings" (Misha!) I am moving all of my Tudor and Anne Boleyn-obsessive posts to a new blog meant especially for that purpose.

The Tudor Blog will not only have facts and debunk the myths about Anne Boleyn and the Tudor Dynasty, but will have more of my photos taken in England and it will also be my place to communicate or debate with other enthusiasts.

Stop by sometime!

www.TheTudorBlog.blogspot.com

Leave it to Hever Part II

2009-06-08T11:33:00.017-04:00

Being the reason I wanted to come to England, Hever certainly deserves more than one measly post!
Plus, I just have too many photos that will sit forever in iPhoto with no one to see them but I.
As I mentioned, I was able to get away from the crowds and children by walking in the Italian Garden. Because it was only May, many of the flowers and roses were not yet in full bloom but the garden was still lovely.

I was able to further escape the crowds, indeed I was completely alone, when I found a path that led to the outskirts of the property. Along this path was the "Blue Garden" which I could see - even out of season - would be remarkably striking in bloom.In a recent Google search, I found another blogger who had taken this exact same photo (above). I thought this very strange since I saw no other visitors there and have never seen another photo or mention of this place at Hever.
The outside path had several inclines made only of rocks and slate with a brook with waterfalls running alongside.
And finally, the Rhododendron Walk which leads back to the castle.

There were many things I saw at Hever which stirred emotions that no one else would understand without a study of Anne Boleyn's life. To most, this would be nothing but a photo of a honeysuckle but to me, I immediately see the tester on which Anne embroidered her initials with Henry's intertwined with honeysuckle. Who knows, perhaps this very bush was the inspiration?

Leave it to Hever

2009-06-07T15:54:00.030-04:00

Well, I'm skipping the story of The Plough... for now...

The day had finally arrived. Tuesday, May 26th was not only my 41st birthday but it was also the day I planned to visit Anne Boleyn's family home at Hever Castle. Truthfully, it was my desire to see Hever that inspired this whole trip. I had originally only planned to stay in Kent but then figured if I could afford the stay in London, I should do that as well.
This was my birthday gift to myself. Well, the whole trip is but specifically, going to spend the day at Hever. When I came down for breakfast, Lynn and the other B&B guest, Jacquelyn had placed cards and small gifts by my place setting.
Despite the sweet start to the day, the weather wasn't looking very encouraging. Tuesday started out as a dark, damp, cloudy, rainy day in Kent. I was so incredibly relaxed by this time, I wasn't even upset about it. I would simply go to Hever Wednesday. I couldn't be bothered with being bothered. After a late morning nap, I soaked in a lovely bubble bath using one of my birthday gifts. By the time I was dressed and made-up, the sun had broken through the clouds and it had turned into a beautiful day.

A quick taxi ride to the hamlet of Hever and I was ready to come face-to-face with Anne Boleyn and her family home. I walked through the gatehouse and purchased my tickets, then made my way down the hill toward the castle. At first glance, I could only think that it was a very small castle. There are also extensive grounds which include a Yew Maze and Italian Garden. But I couldn't wait, I had to see the actual home where Anne Boleyn grew-up first.
The castle is double moated, the second you cross by wooden drawbridge which replaced the original stone. This leads to a portcullis - so popular in the 13th century, when Hever was built.

This leads into a small, open-air courtyard added to the castle by Thomas Boleyn (Anne's father) and built completely in the Tudor style.

So this was not the original entrance. Thomas Boleyn added this attachment as a type of hallway or foyer on the ground floor and a long gallery upstairs which now displays portraits of Anne's daughter Queen Elizabeth I and other cool relics.
I saw the most famous portrait of Anne Boleyn in the National Portrait Gallery, but my favorite portraits are housed at Hever. It is very similar to that famed sitting with the French Hood and black gown but Anne looks slightly younger and prettier. I've never been one of those people who thought Anne was ugly but in this portrait, I find her truly beautiful.
Then there were the portraits of both "Bullen" sisters painted when both were very young and both wearing the "old fashioned" Gable Hoods.

These portraits of Anne (left) and Mary (below) were clearly painted in their youth. I believe (with no evidence) that they were probably painted when the girls were 12 or 13 years old, perhaps just before Anne was sent to be a fille d'honneur in the court of Archduchess Margaret and then went with Mary to serve the French Court.

A teeny, tiny staircase carved into the stone of a wall led to a small room with one window which served as Anne and Mary's bedroom. (Told ya this was a tiny castle! Sisters in a noble family had to share a room.) In the room is a carved wooden bedstead that I was very anxious to finally see in person. To my disappointment, it was pretty obvious that this was never at the head of the bed in which Anne Boleyn slept. (Despite the words actually carved into the wood proclaiming it was!) Even the guide book for the castle says the wood has been dated to Victorian times - not Tudor.
After Henry executed Anne Bolyen and her father died 2 years later, Hever reverted to the crown. Henry then gave the castle to Anne of Cleves in her divorce settlement and her initials and profile remain in some rooms.
After the house tour, I took a stroll in the gardens. I tried to imagine Anne taking the fresh air but I knew that what I was seeing was planted centuries after Anne's life. Except when I looked back upon the castle from the gardens. I stuck mainly to the gardens close to the castle first before venturing out into the Italian garden and sculpture garden and to the lake.

One of my favorite things about the garden was that it wasn't nearly as crowded as the tiny castle. We were a little too cramped in some of the rooms and there were a few too many children touching things and running around. But the gardens were open and clear. Hidden among the bushes and secret paths were an unusual set of chess pieces carved out of bushes surrounding a brass astrolab.
Anne used an astrolab in her signature when she was being courted by Henry VIII. Could it be?
The gardens were a great place to play amateur photographer...

And then more to see and photograph at the lake...

I fell in love... with a little family of swans. Once again, memories of Henry and Anne...

Although these two had far better luck with childbearing...

A Week in the Country

2009-06-05T13:10:00.016-04:00

I was a bit nervous about catching the right train in order to get to my B&B in Kent and even more nervous about the prospect of transporting my heavy luggage on the tube and to the train. The only drawback of the London Underground is the existence of too many steps in some stations instead of elevators or escalators. With the weight of my suitcase, four steps seemed too many!
I struggled through and even enjoyed the hour-long train ride south to Kent. Thankfully, there was a taxi kiosk just up the street from the Edenbridge Train Station. My taxi would be a while, so the manager offered to watch my luggage while I go into town to have lunch and walk around to kill time. Edenbridge, like the other little hamlets around Kent, was steeped in traditional Tudor design and charm. Every other building was in the Tudor style with trademark black and white woodwork. I know I looked like a nutter taking photos of random old buildings that the locals totally take for granted every day. I could completely imagine myself there hundreds of years ago - no cars, taxis, skateboarders - walking on cobblestones or even dirt paths.

Pulling up the long drive to Starborough Manor was like a dream. It was all far more lovely than the photos on the Internet. Granted, the gardens were not fully in bloom, but the it was still lush and green just like I imagined. Jonathan Mathias, the proprietor of the B&B, showed me in and carried my heavy suitcase up the three flights to my room. The house was stunningly beautiful. But it was gorgeous in a comfortable way - not like a museum where you'd be afraid to sit or relax. My room was far more charming than it looked online. The views from my windows were so pastoral and idyllic; I couldn't have asked for a more perfect place to experience the English countryside. To the southeast, my window overlooked the backyard and Starborough Castle with it's moat.

And to the north, my bedroom and bathroom windows overlooked the Coach and Stable Houses, garden and adjoining farms.

As long as I live, I will never forget the cooing sounds from the large flight of doves that gathered every day on the roof of the barn in the back of the stables. I loved to look out and see the rose vines climbing up the brick walls of the Couch House. Even on the cloudy, rainy days, I would sit and look out the windows and feel so calm and at peace.
Jonathan offered to book me a taxi for dinner that evening at eight and left me to sleep. I sank easily into the bright white sheets and feather duvet and fell into a deep restful sleep in my beautiful new room.

When I awoke, I had a nice cup of tea in my room and took a shower. This was to be the only disappointment of this leg of my trip: low pressure shower head. Not good. So I resigned myself that I would take baths for the rest of my stay. As Winston Churchill said, "Why stand when you can sit?"
I dressed comfortably and went downstairs to meet my taxi which would take me just up the road to a pub called The Plough. I panicked slightly when we pulled up and I saw groups of good looking people gathered and drinking outside. I kept my head down and went straight in feeling a little shy.
I ate dinner and had a couple of glasses of wine and couldn't help but notice the abundance of really attractive men. Young men, but very cute. They certainly outnumbered the women in the pub. Eventually, one or two of them noticed my accent started talking to me. That was all it took: I stayed at the pub with them til the wee hours.
More on that in the next post. Maybe.

V&A by Night

2009-06-05T12:34:00.015-04:00

Many people told me to visit the Victoria & Albert Museum. Okay, one person. But I'd found a few Tudor related things online which I looked forward to seeing at the V&A.

Because they are trying to attract young singles and couples to go to a museum instead of a pub on a Friday night, the V&A has a special promotion with Friday evening hours and cocktails. This would work well with my schedule, I could see Kensington by day and peruse the museum that night.
Upon arrival, I went ahead and purchased tickets to the special exhibits of Hats and the Baroque period only to find that both were of only moderate interest. No matter - there was still the Tudor Wing!
After Hats and before Baroque I went upstairs to find the Tudor exhibit. I was looking at the very first displays in the wing when the VERY RUDE guard came in and informed three of us that the wing was closed. He did so in a way that made it seem like we KNEW it was closed and snuck in... despite the fact that there were no ropes or signs. Until AFTER we were removed. Clearly we had no idea it was closed.
Besides the fact that the Tudor wing was the only reason I really wanted to be there, I was really put off by this guard's attitude! It was really my first unpleasant experience in London. I really hate being treated like a criminal when it's their fault we were in there!
But I stayed. I'd paid for the Baroque exhibit and I was going to see it!
Some of it was interesting, but it was - as to be expected - centered on religious pieces of the period which were all Christian. Like my visit to the British National Gallery, there was really only so many paintings of Christ I could take. Yes, the art is magnificent and beautiful but I needed more variety and more Tudor and less baby Jesus!

I continued to walk around a bit, checking out the courtyard fountains and flowers. The museum itself is very nice. With a little more imagination and an outdoor bar, their Friday night event would be huge!

I was exhausted and my feet hurt, so my indignation was magnified. I did find some interesting casts of funeral effigies in the back and the gift shop was lovely. Insanely overpriced, but lovely. Now I know how they pay for the overly elegant cafeteria. Check this place out: I felt like I should be wearing a ball gown as I stood in line with a plastic tray!

I had had enough and it was time to go. I wish it had been more enjoyable. Time to leave the museum and time to leave London. Some room service, a good night's sleep and I would move on to my next adventure... Anne's home at Hever!

Finding Kensington

2009-06-05T10:31:00.013-04:00

By Friday, May 22 I was starting to feel a real time pinch. There were still so many things to see and do in London but I had only one more day to do them. On Saturday I would have to catch a train and find my way to Kent and my second leg of my journey in the English countryside.
I knew I would have to hit two places on Friday, but which two? The two would have to be close together because my feet and ankles would just not be able to handle too much walking. As much as I wanted to see Buckingham Palace and Windsor, I decided they would have to be the casualties of my exhaustion and lack of time. Windsor was just too far away from the center of town and Queen Elizabeth is currently in residence, which would reduce greatly what I could see inside the palaces. Since they were in the same vicinity, I chose to close my stay in London with visits to Kensington Palace and the Victoria and Albert Museum.

I took the tube to Notting Hill and walked around for a long time looking for Kensington Palace. I found the gardens easily enough, but couldn't seem to find my way to the actual Palace. I searched for easily an hour but I would not give up! I'd purchased a pass to all the Historic Royal Palaces online before I left the States, and I'd be damned if I didn't use it as much as possible!!! I backtracked to these huge arches I'd passed a few blocks before the park and walked through. Turns out this street was much like "Embassy Row." Huge, gorgeous mansions stretched along the beautifully landscaped street with little plaques claiming them for their respective countries. At the end of the street, the main entrance to the home of the late Princess Diana, Kensington Palace. Finally!

There is an ongoing exhibit of some of Princess Diana's dresses and details of where and when she wore them. The dresses were in cases and the light kept extremely low so as not to speed the deterioration of the fabrics.

Sadly, that was really the only acknowledgement inside the palace of this being Diana's residence.
The rest of the exhibits referenced mostly the reigns of William & Mary and Queen Victoria. On the flight over, I'd watched a new movie starring Emily Blunt called "The Young Victoria." This prepared me perfectly for what I was seeing when I arrived in her apartments: the bedroom, exactly the way it was, when Victoria was awakened and told she was queen. It was attached, of course, to the rooms of her mother - the Duchess of Kent - who kept her young daughter under her thumb.

Outside, the gardens were just starting to bloom and the day was a mix of sun and clouds. This made for an interesting backdrop for couple of photos of the iconic Victoria statue - taken within a few minutes of each other. An ominous moment:

And moments after:

Although I found the path in the garden dedicated to Princess Diana, I didn't find the memorial fountain because I couldn't continue to walk through the park. I'm fascinated by the fact that the Tudor Rose is so often used in association with Diana. Although I have seen numerous charts connecting her lineage to royal houses like the Stuarts, I have not seen a connection to the tudor Dynasty.

And like so many of the palaces and castles, the ponds and lakes were filled with ducks and swans and the parks full of deer. After The Tudors' season two finale, swans will never look the same to me again. The symbolism and connection to the monarchy will stick in my mind forever.

Courtship (well, barge)

2009-06-04T17:51:00.015-04:00

When I started planning my trip to England on my computer I researched a few "Tudor Tours" but all were overpriced and few even returned my emails. I did get a couple of suggestions from friends who have been to or live in England. One such suggestion was to visit Hampton Court Palace by boat.
Thursday morning I made my way right back to where I'd spent the day before: Westminster. This time I stayed on the north side of the Thames and bought a ticket to Hampton Court leaving from Westminster Pier by river barge. I would sail to the palace from London exactly as the Tudor kings and queens had done! Unfortunately, it sounded way more romantic than it actually was.

It turned out to be a decent day - mostly sunny but just a little windy and cool. Lovely for a river cruise - if that cruise was about an hour. Even two hours would be tolerable. Three hours on a barge were a bit much. But I stuck it out, taking random photos of homes and other things along the Thames to occupy my time. The one good thing was the lack of walking for three hours. Whew - I'm looking rough as I sit on that barge!
But it was all worth it when we pulled up beside the magnificent palace that Cardinal Thomas Wolsey built.

After the Tower, this was the place where I knew I would come in direct contact, yet again, with Anne Boleyn and all the places and things I have been reading and dreaming about for three years. Sure enough, the very first thing I encountered reminded me Anne was here:

More surprisingly, though, just inside the palace I was promptly invited to a re-enactment of the wedding of Henry VIII to Kateryn Parr: his sixth and final wife. Just moments later, I came upon the bride and groom greeting people in the dining hall.

And then the newlyweds we presented to us in the great hall just outside the privy chamber.

As goofy as it was (and as bad as Henry's beard was) it was actually kind of fun too. I really enjoyed the talk by two courtiers explaining each piece of their clothing and the type of people they would be at the court. I loved walking through the rooms escorted by a woman dressed in the same clothing she would wear in 1540! History and fashion geek that I am, I LOVED it.
More than "feeling" the souls of Anne or the others as I did at the Tower, Hampton Court bewitched me with it's authenticity and preservation of a 500 year-old, Tudor-era palace. They keep the kitchens just as they were when they would serve up to 1000 guests one meal at court!

A 16th century kitchen prep area...

Although I couldn't take photos inside the chapel royal, I did go in and stand in the Holy Day Closet where Anne worshipped and the obstinate Spanish Ambassador paid her obeisance just before her fall from grace. Knowing this was so intense. There was also a plaque inside that claims although Jane Seymour's body is interred with Henry at Windsor, her heart is rumored to be buried there. (Although I can find no other documentation of this.) It was at Hampton that Jane gave birth to the future King Edward VI and died there shortly after.
Although the white portions of the palace behind me here are clearly additions made well after the Tudor Dynasty and more in the Georgian style, the beautiful gardens and grounds are laid out the way Henry VIII had planned them.

Another of my favorite parts of Hampton: The Astronomical Clock - designed in a time when they believed the Sun moved around the immovable Earth. I love that it was showing the correct date, time and astrological sign!

Here Comes the Sun

2009-06-04T13:24:00.015-04:00

One of the biggest surprises about England was the fact that in the summer the sun rises around 5 AM and doesn't set until 9:30 PM! When I first awoke to the sun in my face, I checked my watch and thought I'd forgotten to change the time. There was no way it could be that early! But it was a good thing because it helped me get motivated to get up and go out no matter how tired I felt.

By Wednesday May 20th I was starting to enjoy the breakfast that came with my room. I ate enough most days to be able to skip lunch altogether. I was still uneasy being without my iPhone but the Internet access in the hotel lobby got me through. I tried not to be too hard on myself when it came to jet lag and being tired, so Wednesday morning I went back up to my room for a little nap before setting out on the town.
Despite drizzle and threatening clouds, I took the tube down to Trafalgar Square to go to the National Portrait Gallery. After much research, I knew this to be the place to see all the famous Tudor portraits in person and I was so excited! When I saw the building that said "The British National Gallery" and no other museums nearby, I figured I was in the right place. (It corresponded with my handy-dandy laminated walking map of London!) After walking through room after room of the gallery and finding only Henry VIII's portrait of Christina of Denmark, I began to think something was fishy. Then I overheard some other lost tourist be directed to the National PORTRAIT Gallery - just around the corner!
Sure enough, it was around the outside to the left and it held everything I was looking for! There was an entire Tudor wing and I was in heaven! Of course I couldn't take any photos inside of the museum. Granted, most of the portraits are reproductions, but I was still in awe seeing them in person. It was, however, a cool mistake that I did go to the other gallery, as I got to see the portrait of Christina of Denmark, ordered by Henry to see if he wanted to marry her or Anne of Cleves. And it was NOT a reproduction. It was the original painted by Master Holbein himself!

My feet, my achilles tendon and my formerly broken ankle were beginning to ache but I knew I wasn't too far from Westminster Abbey and Parliament so I pressed on. I also knew I was near the former palace at Whitehall (and York Place before that) but as hard as I looked, I found only the Household Cavalry. (The is the regiment to which Prince Harry belongs.)

Despite my Whitehall setback, I continued walking and eventually stumbled upon Westminster. The area was packed with demonstrators, police and press. I made my way around them and took a ton of photos. Familiar view of the Abbey...

And my preferred view on the side with the rose window...

Those are the only photos I will post though because, sadly, I was having some sort of issues taking a level shot. Vertigo or something. Gave new meaning to "flying buttresses."
I'd walked about 5 miles from my last tube stop and was starting to think I would have to go back to the hotel to rest because of the intense pain in my feet and ankles but after sitting a while in the park on the Thames, I decided to ignore the pain and walk across the river to the London Eye. What can I say - it was calling to me! Look at the pic!
Owned and operated by British Airways, you can ride in a capsule on this huge ferris wheel and see the entire city. Even better (and just my style) you can take a Champagne flight and see the sights! It was pricey -- but fun. I rode in a capsule with eight people on holiday from Scotland and we watched the sun begin to set on London. A little drinking, a lot of photos and thirty minutes seemed to fly by! (pun intended)

Complete exhaustion came over me when I disembarked and I still had to walk to the nearest tube station. I caught the tube at Waterloo on the south bank of the Thames and went back to grab dinner and go to bed.

Holiday with the Tudors

2009-06-03T20:10:00.014-04:00

It's official, I'm in love. With England. And I think it's mutual.
I used this extended time-off to take my dream trip to England. It remains to be seen whether it was a wise use of my time and savings but it was, without a doubt, the wisest thing I could ever do for my psyche. I came home new woman. Hell, by day six in the UK I was a new woman! The impression is deep and I venture a guess that it will be long lasting.

The trip did not start off well. Despite my extensive preparation, by the time I got into the very long security line at Dulles Airport, I realized in horror that I'd left my iPhone on the shuttle van. There was little I could do. The shuttle company refused to bring me the phone and I would have to call them back - from London - to arrange for them to mail it to me. The food on the flight was hideous and although I took a Tylenol PM, I couldn't seem to sleep. I refused to be dragged down by any of this...
Thankfully, I got myself from Heathrow to my hotel on the Underground with minimal difficulty. I immediately took a two hour nap and set out to my first destination: meet high school friend, Nicole Allen, for dinner. Once again, I used the tube with no problems and Nikki and I enjoyed dinner and wine at a tapas restaurant near Carnaby Street in Soho. I was still not fully aware that I was in England yet. It wouldn't hit me until the next day, Tuesday May 19th.

May 19 is the anniversary of the beheading of Anne Boleyn. It seemed only fitting that I went that day to the Tower of London to pay my respects. Once I arrived and walked through the gates, respect was an understatement.
Within minutes, I was in tears; overwhelmed by the immense history of the place. I felt them - all of them. All the souls who were imprisoned, tortured, executed, and even those who lived there just before their coronations.

I always knew I'd feel something but this really caught me off-guard. I was fighting tears all day.
Despite the mixture of heavy rain and then bright sunshine, I spent nearly four hours walking around the Tower and absorbing the intense vibes (and sometimes ducking into a nook to stay dry). I took a million pictures and said a silent prayer to and for Anne Boleyn.

Would I feel this way at every historic site in London?

I'm Tripping

2009-05-13T18:15:00.004-04:00

In just four days, I will be doing one of the most irresponsible things I've done since I stopped "experimenting" with drugs in college. I will be on my way to London, England.
Although it's something I've long wanted to do, if I gave myself any time to really think about taking an expensive trip while I'm unemployed and living on savings, I doubt I would find it a very good idea. So, at the height of my doubts, I went online and bought the non-refundable tickets.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've loved everything British. I didn't need any encouragement, but my best friend's mom is British and she helped to strengthen that love and curiosity. I will never forget getting up with her family at 5 AM to watch the wedding of Princess Diana and Prince Charles. I've been filled to the gills with tea for the past 35 years and I'm finally ready to see where it all comes from!!! (Well, okay, the tea doesn't come from there - I meant the custom!)
I was, for many years before her death, obsessed with Princess Diana. I became completely enthralled with Jane Austen in my 20s. I love Shakespeare. And few things have captured my imagination the way Michael Hirst's movies about Elizabeth and his series The Tudors have. I have now read every reputable biography on Anne Boleyn, the other wives of Henry VIII and his children. The only logical next step is to GO TO ENGLAND!

For me, it is primarily a Tudor tour of England. I will start in London - specifically to visit the Tower on the anniversary of Anne Boleyn's execution. There are a ton of exhibitions celebrating Henry's accession to the throne 500 years ago and I bought a pass to all the unoccupied royal palaces. Then it's on to Kent to pay my respects at Anne Boleyn's ancestral home. It was also the home of Henry's 4th wife, Anne of Cleves, but is dedicated to Anne and her family.
Jane Austen's family is also from Kent and I can think of no place better to be on my birthday than a manor house in the English countryside!

So starting Monday, let the unemployment vacation begin!!!

The End of a Friend

2009-04-13T15:47:00.005-04:00

A few weeks back a friend of mine decided to tell me the truth. His truth.

This friend has recently gone through some life changes and come out convinced that he has a "special gift." My friend, Tim, feels that he has been given the gift of insight into people. He believes that he sees them more clearly than others or even they, themselves can. Tim says this vision is what makes him such a talented photographer.
Now, I have no doubt that there are those among us who are better at reading people and may even have the gift of special understanding. Who hasn't met someone who seemed to cut right through to the heart and soul of us? But I believe that what they do with that insight is the true measure of the so-called "gift." And so, I feel that my friend Tim is woefully misguided in the use of this vision.

I shared with Tim some of the details of recently getting back in touch with my ex from college and the complications in the situation. That was my first mistake.
This is when Tim felt the need to launch into what exactly he sees with his "vision." Sadly, it was not very complimentary of me.
He insisted that when I told him the story of Craig and me, all he heard was me, what I want and what I get out of it. Now, this certainly caught me off-guard because I know for a fact that I never once told him what I wanted out of it. When pressed for details, Tim could not tell me any more than his impression that this was all about me and I am only in it for myself. He made it clear that me wanting any sort of a relationship with Craig was selfish and that this connection should only ever be about what I can give him and Carter. Tim says through his vision he can see that I hold out hope that we will one day be together and that he can see that it will never happen.

I was devastated on several levels.

Firstly, I was angry that my intentions toward Craig and his son were being called into question. Going back several months, I questioned my own motives and arrived at the conclusion that I want only what is best for Craig and Carter. If that means being a friend from afar who listens and shares, then that is what I will be. If that means that somehow Craig and I could find a way to be together as more than friends and I am privileged enough to love this incredible man and his son, then I will never -- not for one moment -- take that for granted. If some day, G-d forbid, we should part and speak no more, then I will respect his boundaries and remember him in my prayers.

Secondly, I cried for days because I felt like Tim had taken my deepest, darkest fear and given it life, words and thus credence. He made it clear that he believed that this relationship will never be more and that I am a fool to think it. But it was much more than that: he made me feel a fool for HOPING for it. We talked for a long time after his revelations and he kept making clear that he felt I was wrong to ever hope to fall in love again and actually have a sustainable partnership in this life.
I had already -- for many years -- been battling depression often triggered by my intense fear that I am never going to be loved. That I will live the rest of my life alone never having known a devoted love like those I have given to others. To have this person who claims to be my friend and cares about me tell me outright that he knows thanks to his "gift" that I will be alone and that I should learn to accept it was one of the most painful moments of my life because it is the thing I dread most in this life. Worst of all, I believe he knows that.

After thinking about this night and this conversation for weeks, I have arrived at some conclusions.
I believe that Tim is a person who enjoys toying with people. I have known this about him for a long time. He has shared stories about the cruel games he would play on other people in order to control them. This, in my opinion, is no different. Perhaps Tim does have some insight into people, but he is using that to toy with them again and I am merely his latest victim.
In some way, Tim is completely deluding himself into believing that he is doing something constructive for his friends by sharing these "deep personal insights." But each time he has done this, it has been incredibly negative and has deeply hurt the people he claims to see so clearly.
In reality, Tim is a very unhappy person in his own personal and love life. Any psychologist would tell you that Tim is making himself feel better by hurting others. Raising himself up on the backs of those he is keeping down.

It doesn't change the fact that he uncovered some very sensitive subjects for me at which I have had to take a closer look. I do not thank him for this at all. Tim stirred up a hornets nest of insecurities that I keep under strict control in order to get through life. This person tried to make me feel bad for having the one thing that helps any human through her darkest days: HOPE.
I don't think I will ever forgive him for trying to take that away from me or for making me feel like a fool for still having it.

Put up or Shut up!!!

2009-03-22T09:26:00.005-04:00

If there's one thing I've done while I'm home doing nothing, it's think!
It's not as if I can ever turn it off but at least it has become somewhat constructive these past few weeks.

My research into going back to school for nursing kept coming up with dead ends. Most programs begin only once a year and that would be in September. I was also beginning to seriously doubt capacity for learning all of the math and science needed for that vocation.

I thought back to life before radio and remembered my love of French and learning languages and my talent for doing just that. Although I've avoided the idea of teaching up until now, I'm wondering if that isn't just the right path to now take? If I can go back to school and get my degree, I can at least get started teaching and perhaps find a decent school I like. I will still be "giving back" as I so wanted to do - just in a different way fro nursing.
The pay is crap, yes, but I'm not so sure I really care anymore. As long as I can pay my bills, what else do I need? And, I'll admit that I really like the idea of a few months off each year.

Whilst considering all of this, another idea came into my head: travel. One of my biggest complaints was always that I only ever had a week off for vacation and that was not conducive to overseas travel. Well, I certainly have more than a week off now! I am investigating a whirlwind tour of England centered on the Tudors. The airfares are super-low right now and I have found some great Inns and B&Bs which only cost about $50 a night!
One is the actual hunting lodge used by Henry VIII when out on his sport and also courting Anne Boleyn. It is a stone's throw from her family home at Hever Castle!!!

I know, I know, what am I doing spending money on a trip to England when I am out of work and so unsure of the future? That's just it! I am single, I have a little money in the bank, I am healthy and will have to begin work/study in earnest quite soon. This is the perfect time to LIVE LIFE!

I left radio because I felt as though I'd lived for my career instead of me. Time to prove I made the right move! Put up or shut up! I may never have this chance again!

Recession Proofing

2009-03-08T12:24:00.003-04:00

Here I sit in my little cave in Washington, DC, completely unable to make a decision and pull the trigger on my future. For months I kept thinking and saying, "Just get back to DC, just move home and it will all come together." Here I am, home, and absolutely nothing has come together except my ass and this couch!!!

I've sent out a few resumes for jobs for which I am neither qualified nor really want to work. Certainly, nothing I've found constitutes a career that I would have an interest in launching. Mostly, I've applied to jobs in the federal government with a few private sector things sprinkled in for flavor.

The other option I have kept marinating in my mind is nursing. From my investigative efforts, I've determined that I would have to attend University of the District of Columbia (UDC) for at least two years to get an Associates Degree and then take the nursing exam to become an RN. That is, of course, assuming I could pass the courses and handle the math -- never my strong suit. I know that I can have Craig tutor me, and that is a comfort, but I still have my doubts that I can handle the type of schooling needed. I have read absolutely nothing about anyone with a degree in English Literature, history or French being recession proof.

Nursing and other healthcare jobs, however, always needed.
But can I do it?

I Will Never Know

2009-02-27T20:18:00.003-05:00

As I continue to talk to Craig, we continue to exchange stories, memories and facts about our current lives. Beyond the usual recounting of daily events, every now and then he shares more details with me about losing the love of his life and one of their sons. I've been able to intellectualize the information and keep a safe distance between Craig and my heart. Until today.

Two things happened when Craig described dreams he's been having about Lynn and the days before her death. The first thing that happened was the loss of my ability to keep the information in my brain. Within seconds of reading today's email, I felt my eyes begin to sting and well-up with tears. It wasn't just the sadness of the story because it wasn't just any story. It was an intense sadness for Craig and his pain. I was feeling an empathy I don't know that I've ever felt before. It's not often that you actually feel pain and sadness for someone else's sadness. At least not at this level.

About an hour later, something much worse happened. I reread Craig's email so that I could reply (too busy crying to reply earlier) and something became crystal clear to me: I will never know that kind of love. Sure, perhaps I will feel it for someone, but no one has ever or will ever feel that for me.

If I were to die today, no one would continue to dream about me a year and a half later. No one would continue to mourn me after all that time and they certainly will not tell another woman that they may never be able to love her because they are still so in love with me. I have never, and likely will never, know that kind of love and care from another person. And all I can do is wonder why?

The Real Me

2009-02-26T11:55:00.004-05:00

Days after a long phone conversation with my best friend I am still upset by what she said to me, about me.
Samantha and I have run into this problem before: she is my closest friend and has known me since I was 5 years old but at times I feel like she knows nothing about the real me.
Granted, part of this is due to Sam's own personality and inability to see past her own judgement. Like many Scorpios I know, once she has formulated an idea about who you are, it is next to impossible to get her to see who you really are.

Admittedly, I spent many years in a society of people who valued material possessions and status symbols. I bought my share of Ugg boots, Coach and Louis Vuitton Purses and Jimmy Choo shoes. From 2001 to 2008, I eagerly rode the Sex and the City wave, which made me aware of fashion in terms of labels and not just form and function.

Despite all of this, it became clear to me several years ago that these material treats were not what was important in life. Had I been given the opportunity to trade my Louis Vuitton Murikami Pouchette for a solid marriage and a family, I would have jumped at the chance! I look back and realize that as my dreams of forming a loving, long-term relationship with a man faded and my attempts at having a child failed, I did soothe my pain (at times) with toys and possessions. Because no one else was, I tried to treat myself well over the years and that included purchasing things I wanted, when I wanted them.

I always assumed that my closest friends realized that it was all stop-gap. I thought they knew I bought myself things to make-up for the things with which I wasn't blessed. I thought they could tell that I liked my stuff, but would give it up in a heartbeat for the things in life that really matter!

Apparently not. In talking with Samantha, she made it clear what kind of girl she thinks I am. Samantha believes me to be a woman who would never choose to live in a place with less than first class accommodations. She believes me to be a woman who values a pair of shoes over a life with a man I love in a place where I'd never have use for high heels.

Of all the people in my life, I would have thought that Samantha would know that I would do absolutely anything for love. Not lust, infatuation or a fling... but a true and lasting love.

It goes beyond that though... I'm sad that Sam can't see sides of me other than the one who owns Manolos. To assume that I go no deeper than my skin, or worse - my clothes, is an inexcusable insult! To assume that I would never choose a life more simple and meaningful is a slight I can't soon forget.

Perhaps she never knew me at all? Maybe she just doesn't understand me. My greatest fear is that this is the face I have presented to the world. Then, it isn't Sam but I who has completely sold myself short.

Be My Valentine?

2009-02-14T18:54:00.003-05:00

Now that we have actually addressed the elephant in the room, Craig and I have been emailing back and forth about all the possible pitfalls of ever being together. In letter after letter we are attempting to rationalize something that likely has no rational answer or explanation. How do you decide whether or not a relationship will work before you have that relationship?

We continue to write and try to be practical. It's a very adult dialogue in which we are exchanging our thoughts and feelings about our futures - be they together or apart. It's beyond that, though. I've also been thinking very rationally and keeping my feelings in check as best I can. I've been doing better on that front than I thought I would. Certainly better than I've done with that in the past. Despite all of these feelings that are coming seemingly out of nowhere, I'm staying grounded and so far, not letting my imagination or dreams get the better of me. Very mature.

Mature until this afternoon when I picked up the phone and heard his voice again. Every practical word, every ounce of maturity and every rational thought flew right out of my head the moment he said hello to me. I proceeded to flirt and giggle like a school girl. A 40-year-old school girl. I couldn't tell you what we talked about for almost an hour: a sure sign that I am completely taken with him.

In the course of trying to be rational and practical about Craig and the very real possibility that we will never get together, I thought I was keeping all those feelings in a safe place. Turns out there is no safe place to hide them.

So, although I couldn't bring myself to say it while I had him on the phone, I really wish that Craig would be my Valentine. ;-)

The Welfare Novel?

2009-02-14T09:45:00.003-05:00

What is it about unemployment that makes me want to write?
I suppose it could be the increase in free time -- although I wasn't exactly slaving in radio. And let's face it, I was annoyed when I had to put in more than my allotted 22.5 hours a week! No, I doubt it's the free time.
Perhaps it's being able to sleep until the sun comes up. I have always said that this alone changed my personality and demeanor. It's not so much that I am getting more sleep -- because I am going to sleep much later. But I believe my brain is better able to function when I don't force my body to deny the natural circadian rhythm.

The same feeling came over me when I was fired from my job in Washington, DC and suddenly had my world turned upside-down. Granted, I was on a very healthy dose of Vicodin for my recent spinal surgery, but I became quite prolific in writing my novel. My brain also became a fertile ground of inspiration and ideas for other works. Bottom line: when I wasn't trying to think up inane Starbucks' Psychic jokes (a.k.a. Carnac the Magnificent) I was better able to be a creative writer.

I am feeling this creativity begin to flow again, minus the Vicodin. Now I just need to get the motivation to write consistently and the discipline to sit down every single day and put in the hours just as I would at a real job. That is, until I find a real job and the creativity is, once again, syphoned from my body like blood from a vampire's victim.

Boy, Interrupted

2009-02-12T16:06:00.002-05:00

The latest social networking web site to take the world by storm is called Facebook. Like with My Space, I resisted joining for a while, but I soon learned that Facebook was far more "grown-up" than My Space and not quite as overrun with spam, scams and dudes trying to get you to chat.
I've been happily catching up with many friends from radio, high school, college and even Riverton Elementary School! For the most part it's been really fun finding out who these children became over the past 25 years. One or two have been a disappointment.
I was sad to learn, for instance, that the boy on whom I had a crush in 8th grade grew up to be an annoying, argumentative know-it-all who wouldn't know how to have a relationship if his life depended on it. Don't know what I expected from a Scorpio. He fits the profile of the self-centered narcissist perfectly. I was not surprised to learn he was divorced.

The most wonderfully surprising reconnection I made was with a man I knew when I went to Centenary College. Craig was a local who one night came to visit a high school friend in my dorm. I was hanging out at the North Hall visitor's desk with my little sister in my sorority, Carrie, when he and his friend Brian signed in. I was immediately interested.
My memory is terrible now, but I remember there being issues with the fact that I was already involved in a relationship with a woman named Beth (who would be insanely jealous of Craig - though I never told her I liked him) and I couldn't pursue anything with him. We became friends and he even took me to my Spring Formal, but we never really dated. A year later, his best friend would come to me and ask my help in trying to keep Craig from proposing to his then-girlfriend and moving away with her.
Without going into great detail (which I would likely get wrong with my sad memory), I will say that I did everything I could to try to convince Craig not only that she was the wrong woman for him, but that I was the right one. I was finally free to be with him and I wanted that more than anything. But Craig felt a sense of obligation to the woman he loved and chose to go. I was heart-broken.
Over the years I would hear things about Craig occasionally and I remember speaking once to his friend, Brian, who had married my sorority sister, Dyan Ashworth. But we all lost touch and I hadn't even known where to look for him -- until Facebook.

Craig saw my photo on Dyan's page and "friended" me. The day I received the request, I remember just sitting and staring at the computer screen for several minutes, a million memories of him rushing back. A short time later, we were exchanging email and catching up.
At first glance of his profile photo with his son, I assumed I knew what I would hear about his life: married, children, career, etc... Much the same I hear from everyone else. I could not know how wrong my assumptions would be.

I cannot do justice to the story of Craig's life, so I will not try to retell it. Craig lost his love of 16 years and one of their children and now raises their other child alone in North Carolina. The pain and drama of his situation brought me to tears when I read it on his profile page. I have never personally known anyone who has suffered so much loss. Not to mention, someone who has handled it with so much strength and grace as Craig has. I am in awe of this man, truly.

Shortly after getting in touch via email, I gave Craig my number and asked him to all when he had some time. We talked on the phone for three hours but it flew by like ten minutes. I was amazing talking to this person who has all the memories I have, but has grown so much.
Not gonna lie, I was stunned. Within that first phone conversation I learned about this whole other side of Craig I never knew existed. In the years that passed, not only had he begun a life and a family, but he had gone to college and was now about to get his PhD. Crazy! I never knew there was this brilliant brainiac inside of that incredibly adorable package!
Anyone who knows me, knows I find NOTHING sexier than a really intelligent man! In fact, I prefer it if they are smarter than me. I am am totally smitten.

Here's the quandary: we have kept in touch every day by email and had a second phone call which lasted four hours. I am totally smitten. But there's a part of me that feels really bad about it. I fully intended to be there as a friend for Craig and be someone he can lean on if he needs me -- not scam on him!!!
I have asked if he is dating yet and he made it clear that he's not ready. I respect that - really I do! When I sit and think rationally about it, I know that I'm not someone who would want to just "date" him. Having a history, it would be very difficult for me to date him and stay casual.

I can't help but to think about him as more than a friend. I have a huge stupid smile on my face when I see an email from him waiting for me. I drop everything (not like I have anything going on) to answer him and keep our correspondence going. It makes me so happy just thinking of him. To lose that now would make me so sad. I don't even want to let him know I've had these thoughts or feelings because I am afraid that it will change what we have now. (Anything worse than that awkward "I like him but he doesn't feel the same" situation? NO!)
But I like him. And the last thing I want to do is push him.

I am the last thing he needs right now.

Paralyzer

2008-11-22T17:59:00.003-05:00

I have not blogged. I have not written my column. I have not applied for any more jobs. I have not sold any of my belongings in order to move across country. I have done nothing that I need to do. In reality, I haven't even made any final decision on where to go or what to do next. I am paralyzed by this indecision.

Sure, I have talked about moving to Seattle. I've promised my best friend Samantha that I will finally join her out there. But I have nothing concrete to move out to -- other than feeling like I'm with family. Family I actually like.

I don't have a job. I was so close to landing a job I believe I would have really liked, but I failed the writing test I was given. That was such a harsh blow to my ego that I haven't been able to really apply for any others. I long suspected that I couldn't do anything else in the world besides act like an idiot and take abuse on the radio and now I am getting confirmation. Having started in radio in college, I never trained in any other vocation. If I want to do something else for a living, I must now consider going back to school or training for a new career.

I've thought long and hard about what I should learn and what to do next and I have come up with only one potential career: nursing.

I've spent the past two months mulling this over. I have tried to consider every possible downside or con to this decision and they number in the millions. But as my radio contract runs out and I cannot find another job in this terrible economy, I'm beginning to believe that I have no other choice.

I am scared to death to commit to this but I'm not entirely sure why. As of February 1, I have nothing. The fear of that alone should scare me into making a move. It seems the more decisions I need to make, the less able I am to make them.

Worst Week

2008-10-12T10:25:00.003-04:00

I'm torn right now about how to write this post. I may have to break it into two posts in order to get out all of the emotions I desperately need to release.

I'd been pursuing a job with Nordstrom in Seattle that was basically tailor-made for me. I would be writing product descriptions for fashion and accessories on the Nordstrom web site. My first interview was great and I was so excited. I just had to take a writing test in Orlando -- which ended up being a complete mess when I was late on the first three hour drive south. I came back a second time and took the test, but I was informed Wednesday that I scored too low to be considered for the job.
My ego and my self confidence took such a huge hit that I am loathe to apply for any other writing jobs. I truly believed I was all-but-hired for this position and not getting it threw my entire plan into upheaval. Now, I'm truly flailing. I've never been so lost in my life!

On Saturday, I decided to take my dog Bailey back to the vet because he is still itchy and uncomfortable after many months of treatment for a variety of issues. It seems as though he is allergic to Florida (much like me!), he has an ear infection and probably a thyroid problem. The big discovery came during the exam: Bailey has a large tumor on the tissue adjoining his left front leg to his chest. It is most likely cancerous. Every time I think of it, I get a pain in my chest and a lump in my throat.

The doctor wants to operate (if Bailey's 12-year-old body can handle surgery) to remove the tumor but this brings up several logistical challenges. The most difficult part is figuring out how I will get him up and down the stairs to my apartment when he will not be able to walk very well. He has lost weight, but still weighs in at 85 lbs. I couldn't possibly carry him. I could get help getting him up stairs but taking out for potty-time is the challenge.

Then there is the money. I am on a tight budget now that I have no new job to go to after my contract expires. I am in save-mode as I am being told that I will likely have to spend almost $1000 (total) on Bailey's treatments. Normally, I wouldn't even blink at that cost. My desperation is clouding my judgement.

Basically, I am wondering what will happen if I leave the tumor in and allow him to live out his life naturally? Is this cruel? Is this more cruel than a painful surgery and recovery which may lengthen his life by only a year or two?

So, I am losing my job, the canine love of my life, then my home when I can't pay rent. I am stuck in a state I absolutely despise and I feel paralyzed.

Project Runaway

2008-09-18T13:00:00.005-04:00

My radio show co-host and I have been getting some not-so-subtle hints that we are out of a job at the end of January (perhaps sooner). I tried to wait it out to see if we would be offered a new contract, but panic set in last month and I began applying for jobs -- mostly in the Washington, DC metro area.

I've heard nothing. Not a peep. No response whatsoever to my applications or résumé. It was starting to get discouraging. I've long felt like I had nothing to offer outside of radio or TV and I have lost interest in working in those industries. Having no one contact me for even an interview felt like a slap across the face. I was losing my self worth.

Quitting the job search was not an option. Despite feeling dejected and rejected, I had to keep going until I found a job. My only comfort was the fact that I was starting so early. Even if Cox says, "That's it, we don't need you guys anymore," they will have to pay us out until February 1st. I had a buffer.

I decided to change my focus to see if I can get more interest from a different area, so I shifted the search to in and around Seattle, Washington. Although it may seem odd to choose a market on the other side of the county, it's not a completely off-the-wall decision. My best friend of 35 years has been living in the Northwest US for most of our adult lives and has been urging me to move out there almost as long! To call Sam a friend is too generic; she is far more like a sister to me. Moving to be near Sam, her brother Jamie and our friends since childhood, Sarah and Moira, would be like moving to be closer to family. Other than returning to DC, moving to the Seattle area would put me closer to the most friends and family.

Without hearing from back from anyone in DC, I was starting to realize going back there was not going to be possible economically. There were times it was a struggle living on a $75,000 a year salary. There's no way on earth I would be able to live in anything but a hovel if I left radio.

Like a fresh breeze, opportunity blew into my life at just the right moment. This was not just any opportunity either, this was a chance to do something I may really enjoy. I got a response from Nordstrom Corporate Headquarters when I applied for two jobs in the IT department at Nordstrom Direct. Both Product Copywriter and Senior Site Editor jobs appealed to me and according to the recruiter, I am perfect for both! I would be working with fashion buyers, writers, photographers and various other fashion-types. It's like going back to my original dreams before I tripped and fell into radio! Plus, this is not just any fashion, this is high-end designer merchandise! Fashion week in NYC! The collections! Needless to say, this not only helped me start to envision my future but it also greatly boosted my self-esteem.

I don't have the job yet... I am scheduled to take two writing tests next week and then I will have a second interview. I have, however, adjusted my thinking and I'm actually beginning to get excited about the major change.
Now I just need to land the job!

Conversion

2008-08-30T12:43:00.003-04:00

Three years ago, I undertook a huge task: I converted from Christianity to Judaism. That year of study and work changed my life completely and forever.

I now face another conversion but unlike my religious conversion, this is not one of my choosing. The IVF about which I blogged last failed to reach the goal of more than four mature follicles and thus, Doctor Lipari gave me the option to convert it into an IUI. It seems I was able to make one follicle which had reached 15 millimeters by the day before I was to have a trigger shot.
Insemination was scheduled for Wednesday and Thursday of that week. Upon having the first of the two, Tropical Storm Fay made landfall in Jacksonville, Florida and I was told that the clinic would likely be closed on Thursday due to the conditions. This would be disastrous, as I was scheduled to ovulate on Thursday and that would be my best chance for conception.
When my neighbor and nurse, Wendi, gave me my trigger shot, we talked about an alternate plan. Wendi offered to do the insemination at her apartment. She said she'd just take my tank of frozen sperm from work when she leaves and we can do it on her couch!. I promised to bring the wine! Unfortunately, we soon found out that it would not be possible to do it as an intra-uterine insemination because the sperm would need to be washed and that required an andrologist. We could do intra-cervical insemination (ICI) but that would again lower my already pathetic odds of getting pregnant!
Plan C: It turned out that there was a woman doing IVF who would need to have her egg retrieval on that Thursday -- storm or no storm. That meant that there would have to be an andrologist, embryologist, reproductive endocrinologist and a nurse at the clinic on Thursday morning. I wasn't supposed to have my insemination until 2 PM, but if I could make it over there at 9 AM, I could have one of them do the IUI. Even better, the Fertility Nurse Coordinator who did my first IUI on Wednesday, Lisa, came in that Thursday morning and performed my second IUI.
Upon my return just a half hour later to work to finish my shift, I found out that one of my bosses who saw me leave but did not know for what, was furious and demanded to see me. The manager who knew why I had to leave was out of the office and I had no one to defend me. I was treated as if I just skipped out because I felt like a coffee break! (Yes, I always enjoy the insertion of a speculum on a coffee break! Doesn't every woman?) It was all straightened out later, but it didn't remove the feeling that I had been wrongly accused.

I am now 9 days past ovulation and insemination. I have had many days of premenstrual symptoms but have managed to resist the temptation to do a home pregnancy test. I will wait until Thursday, September 4th when I will have a blood test.

The Underachiever

2008-08-17T18:05:00.005-04:00

In vitro fertilization (IVF) means "fertilization in glass." Remember the world's first IVF baby? Well, actually, we all called Louise Brown a "test tube baby." She was born in 1978 in England. Since then, approximately 1,000,000 babies have been born as a result of IVF!

IVF has gone from a concept which I could barely wrap my brain around to something I am actually doing to have a baby.

Waiting to start this cycle seemed like an eternity! I finally began taking my medications and injections on August 10th. I was fine for the first two days, but on day three I began to feel horribly sick. I had a migraine that never really went away and if I was so much as an hour late for a meal, I immediately felt nauseated. Dr. Lipari was kind enough to give me Tylenol with Codeine which took the edge off but never made it fully go away.

The feeling sick I can take; it's the other development that has me really panicked. And by development, I mean LACK of development: of my follicles!

When I took all the drugs to stimulate egg production in June, I had a very nice response. One or two large follicles which will release eggs are desirable for an IUI. I produced 4 mature follicles! Of course, it didn't result in a pregnancy, but it seemed to bode well for the hyperstimulation needed for IVF.

This time felt different. I was more excited and even got butterflies in my tummy every time I thought about doing IVF. It felt... magical. I thought for sure this feeling meant something. I haven't felt that way since Saturday morning when Dr. Lipari did an ultrasound and told me that my follicles are still quite small. They're not growing at the rate he had expected based on my previous response. Being the positive thinker he always is, Dr. Lipari refused to be negative and just pushed everything back a few days.

So, although I was supposed to go to the next phase of my cycle on Friday the 15th, it's being held off indefinitely. I am to continue using the stimulation drugs and have another ultrasound and blood tests tomorrow (Monday). I can already tell that the follicles haven't exactly exploded and gotten all fat and juicy. I'm 7 days into this cycle and by this time in June, my belly was HUGE! I was bloated and uncomfortable. I looked pregnant! I don't look pregnant now. I'm not that bloated.

There are a couple of things that can happen from this. One, the cycle may be cancelled and I may be out $4000 for drugs. I won't lose the entire $9000 I paid for the cycle but I will have to buy another cycle-worth of drugs to try again. Two, we keep going on this cycle and pray my follicles are big enough for retrieval by the time I run out of meds. Or three, I buy more drugs to get the follicles big enough for retrieval this cycle.

This may very well be it: the end of my eggs. They are finite and I may have exhausted my supply.

BFN

2008-08-03T20:03:00.008-04:00

My name is Kris Gamble, and I'm a test-a-holic.

My fertility specialist, Dr. Lipari, warned of the emotional roller coaster testing at home could cause. Did I listen? Yes. Did I follow his advice? Sure, for the first four days.

It started with just a cheap, generic pee stick from CVS. That's how they get you. I'd just do one and then I'd stop; I didn't need more than that. But I didn't stop there. I was hooked and had to have more. I was buying them two and three to a pack. By week two, I couldn't get the same fix from the generics. I had to upgrade -- I went digital!

There is actually a very valid reason for not using home pregnancy tests in the two weeks after artificial insemination. Just before my intrauterine insemination (IUI), I had a shot of a hormone called hCG. For artificial insemination, hCG is used to make a woman ovulate at the right time. This is the exact same hormone that is released by an embryo during pregnancy. You may know this hormone by its more common name: "The Evil Demon That Makes You Vomit for the First Three Months."

It is the hCG that home pregnancy tests measure to determine positive or negative. So, since I injected myself with a rather large amount of hCG, any home pregnancy tests I took in the days following would give me a false positive. That's why I held out for those first four days before testing.

It was day twelve when I the digital Clear Blue Easy test gave me a BFN: Big Fat Negative. (Of course, when I tell it, I use a different "F" word.)
While these home tests are getting better all the time, they still don't always detect very low levels of hCG. Unless you've started your period, you must still have the blood test to check for pregnancy. That, too, was negative.

The disappointment was overwhelming for a few days but I had a decision to make, so I didn't have the luxury of wallowing in it. I had to summon the strength to try again.

I'm not sure if it was the disappointment or a true instinct, but I felt that the IUI method was never going to work. I had nothing scientific or medical to back it up; it was just a hunch. I am so scared of wasting all of my precious time and money on procedures that don't work.

There's one other thing I can do to up my odds of conception. I can have the Mother of All Artificial Insemination: in vitro fertilization. And the reason it's the Mother of All Artificial Insemination? Because "mother" is the first word of the phrase that comes out of your mouth when you find out how much IVF costs!
The odds of conceiving with IVF are far better but there is also a chance that I won’t be able to afford to do it more than once. I’m literally putting all of my eggs into the IVF basket.

Unfreakingbelieveable!

2008-06-18T08:00:00.005-04:00

So...there I am on May 26th, my birthday, checking email on Facebook and My Space. I see that I have a message from my ex, IA, wishing me a happy birthday and asking me what's new? I was reluctant to write back at first, but he seemed to be offering me an olive branch after the whole LDB debacle. I decided to go along with it and went to his Facebook page to reply...

That's when I saw it... the posting called "J & L's Wedding pics." My heart stopped for a moment. I had actual pain in my chest. It was like taking a bullet. I held back the tears for a few minutes, but then they came fast & furious!

Perhaps they are newly posted pics of their first wedding a few years ago? It was just a couple of photos of L and the boys taken at what I supposed to be their house in Silver Spring, MD. They could be old... but WHY POST THEM NOW??? WTF?

It took me many minutes to process what I was seeing. I tried to wrap my head around the idea that they reconciled and friends were posting photos of them. Sadness came first. Then anger. I felt as though IA intended for me to see the photos.

I didn't think it possible to feel worse than when J called me Christmas morning and I lied to save L. I said I pursued him and tried to initiate the affair. This felt one hundred times worse. Now, the joke is on me. See, when I took the blame, I believed I knew better. My knowing the "truth" was a pacifier. Seems as though it was only MY truth.

The truth MAY have been that L loves J but he was going through a rough, unhappy patch. He didn't WANT a divorce, he felt like he had no options. He wanted her, and only her, but he wanted her to agree to live the life they planned. I was just a catalyst, a wake up call. I was just an instrument. But that makes me MORE angry!

These three little pictures and the title brought up so many feelings I'd successfully buried over the last few months. They threatened to undo all the the work I'd done to get past this.

I am a bit angry because I want to understand the need to put this in my face. I've had NO contact ANY of them after our drama. For their purposes, I dropped out of their lives - forever. Why do this now?

Worse than the SATs

2008-05-02T11:01:00.008-04:00

This has been one of the longest months of my life!
In my search for a new Reproductive Endocrinologist, I chose a practice recommended by my regular gynecologist. Ironically, I was given this recommendation way before I went to Dr. No, but ignored the advice because the latter had better reported pregnancy statistics. Lesson Learned.

Dr. Christopher Lipari has only been in Jacksonville a short nine months, moving here from the Baltimore area where he attended Johns Hopkins. I knew immediately upon meeting him that he would be the RE with whom I would work to have a baby. He was bright, intelligent, articulate and best of all, positive! It's not that he walked in and promised me that I would certainly have a baby and nothing would ever go wrong but he just had the attitude I had: let's try everything we can to make a baby! Of course we discussed the age factor and the possibility that I would have to use a donor egg and IVF, but it didn't feel like a sad eventuality - the way it had with my first RE. Perhaps it was my attitude and approach or perhaps I just clicked better with Dr. Lipari. Whatever the reason, we had excellent chemistry and I found what I was looking for -- a doctor I consider my partner on this journey.

After covering all of the positive and negative possibilities, the doctor advised that I spend my next cycle, the month of April, doing detailed fertility testing. He feels that it makes more sense to do the tests that are covered by insurance first to make sure that there are no impediments to my getting pregnant, rather than jumping right into expensive insemination - not covered by insurance - and possibly waste thousands of dollars in sperm because of an unknown condition! This felt like the right course of action, as opposed to plunging right into insemination after one blood test as my first RE suggested.

I was given a sheet which outlined every medication I would take, preparation I would make and each test or examination I would undergo. Just reading it I was overwhelmed! I was scared I'd surely forget to take a dose or show up for a blood draw!

It all kicked off with another Day 3 blood test and something called a hysterosalpingogram. Yeah, from here on out, we'll just call that an HSG. This is a test of the uterus and fallopian tubes to check for blockages, growths or abnormalities. If a tube is blocked, the egg can't make it's way into the uterus. So doctors take a catheter of special dye and inject it into the uterus, then open a balloon in the uterus which pushes the dye out through the fallopian tubes -- if they aren't blocked. All this, while you are having an xray of the procedure to see if the dye spills out of the tubes or gets backed-up in them. I can tell you that this was one of the most unpleasant medical procedures I've ever had ... and I've had quite a few! It was just plain uncomfortable until they opened the balloon in my uterus -- then it quickly crossed over into feeling like I'd burst. Thankfully, I had no blockages and the test was over after three photos. Had there been a problem, they would have had me hold several poses and possibly commit a murder! The most important thing to remember, if your doctor orders you to have one of these HSGs is that it is over quickly. Unlike labor, any pain will stop immediately.

Next up was the Clomid Challenge Test. I would take Clomiphene Citrate pills for five days and hopefully, my ovaries would work overtime to make bigger, better follicles which would then hopefully turn into more Grade A, jumbo, farm fresh eggs!
Yes, this is one of those drugs that make some women conceive multiples. We, however, were just going to count the eggs, not fertilize them this month - so no harm. That is, until I had a charming little side effect. My ovaries blew up to the size of grapefruit and my belly grew to look like I was at least five months pregnant! In fact, I made the mistake of browsing the children's aisle at Old Navy in St. John's Town Center and was asked my due date! (Why do people still do that? It's fraught with danger! Stop it!)

The doctor did an ultrasound and I'd produced two mature follicles by ovulation time. That is, apparently, just the right response to the test. I had blood drawn two more times, had a pelvic exam and a physical and finally sat down to talk with Dr. Lipari about all of my test results at the end of the month.

This consultation is known as a Plan of Treatment appointment. The doctor gives you the prognosis and you decide how to proceed. In my results, there was only one negative result and that was one of my hormone levels. It was not out of the ordinary for a woman abut to turn 40, but a little higher than is ideal for trying to conceive. Still not a deal breaker!
We are a go!

Dr. Lipari and I decided together to start trying to conceive with this next cycle (May). He recommended (and I completely agreed) that we should go right in, guns a' blazin'! We're gonna load me up with fertility drugs which will ensure follicle stimulation, egg production and development, timed ovulation, fertilization and the maximum chance of avoiding miscarriage. Yes, there are medications to do all of that! And I intend to take 'em!

For the first time since my miscarriage in January, I felt truly happy. My brain must have been releasing endorphins or some other fantastic substance, because I was on such a natural high for the rest of that day! I'd forgotten how great it feels to be happy. It was a confirmation that I was headed in the right direction, and after the month I've had, I needed that!

Accidentally - on purpose...

2008-04-12T10:04:00.003-04:00

This has been a CRAZY week. Fascinating, but crazy.
This week alone I was confronted three separate times with the topic of getting pregnant "accidentally - on purpose."
You know, having sex with a guy at just the right time and "Ooops! Guess what? You're gonna be a daddy whether you like it or not!!!"
Possibly the most shocking thing about this topic is that the three sources were all in favor of it!

I was so disturbed by it all week that I could neither respond to their emails nor post on this blog about it. I couldn't even
get my thoughts together without having a mental tirade! How on earth could anyone ever think that is a good course of
action? Now I know why this world is so effed up! Does anyone have any moral or ethical fiber anymore? Worst of all, two of the emails were from "older" men! I expected so much more from their generation.

Granted, I think when men write to me to criticize the use of a sperm bank, I believe it is more about their feeling that men will eventually be superfluous. That women will eventually find a way to "make" sperm without a man and buy it at the bank.
But this is ridiculous and the dream (perhaps) of only a few misguided lesbians. Relax, men are safe (for now).

The most disturbing of the email was a pot on a message board from a woman asking for the group's opinions on her desire to accidentally get pregnant by her married boyfriend. She stated that she had "such a problem" with the idea of going to a sperm bank and couldn't possibly explain that to her child someday. HUH? You'd rather tell your kid that Mommy first chose to keep having sex with a married man (with other children) and then lied and conned him until she was preggo. Then, Daddy didn't want anything to do with Mommy or YOU (the child).

Yeah...try that one on sister...see how that works out for ya. And let's face it, this woman secretly harbors the notion that this man will realize what he is missing, leave his wife and child and marry her to raise THEIR baby! She won't admit it, but why else would you try to engineer such a horrible situation?

This manipulative, childish, selfish and appalling behavior is exactly why women get accused of doing this stuff even when they're NOT! This woman not only makes a bad name for the rest of us, but let's face it, she is in NO frame of mind to raise a child right now. She has such low self-esteem as to believe that this is her only option? Just imagine the type of daughter she'd raise. Furthermore, I can predict that if/when this man completely cuts off this woman and her child, she will turn around and cry "victim."
How do I know? After she posted her question about doing this -- asking for the opinions of the group -- she wrote again upset that she was attacked and judged by so many. SHE ASKED FOR THAT! Don't ask the question if you don't REALLY want to know the answer. She didn't want a straight answer...she wanted permission to carry out this sick and twisted plan.

I know I sound harsh and judgmental but I am speaking from experience...just read the early posts of this blog! However many unsuitable or unavailable men I've dated, I have NEVER wanted to get pregnant accidentally - on purpose. It is an idea that nauseates me -- especially with all of the technology today to help us have a child without ruining other lives!

Donations Welcomed

2008-04-04T17:59:00.012-04:00

Although there's very little I can do to move forward with getting preggers until I find a fertility doctor I like, one little task I need to tackle as soon as possible is finding a sperm donor. I want to have all my little swimmers in a row before I start testing my reproductive system, so that I'm all good to go when I do get the green light to start trying to conceive.

I looked at a few sperm banks online but it was all very overwhelming at first. The most disappointing thing about the available sperm banks is the lack of photos. Most of the reputable banks either don't offer photos at all or you must pay extra to view them. In fact, some of the sites find a way to squeeze every nickel and dime out of you before you even commit to buy a single sample! (And by sample, I mean a vial of sperm. This ain't Costco people, they don't let you try before you buy!)

Facing the daunting task of finding a donor and then finding the money to pay for him, I thought first whether there was a man already in my life who I would consider using as a donor? I came up with two candidates.

"Mr. French" is a man I've known for about six years and made out with once (on my birthday). Mr. French is a Moroccan, French Canadian, Jew who works as a personal trainer in Washington, DC. He's about 6'2" and built like an Adonis. Did I mention he is one of the most beautiful men I've ever laid eyes on? We went through a rough patch where he constantly led me on and then never asked me out, but we eventually got past that and rebuilt the friendship. He's 38 and single with no prospects.

"Mr. Beckham" is a man I met through an online dating site but never actually dated. We had several friends in common and were acquaintances and communicated only by email and IM for about a year before becoming friends. As friends, I nursed a little crush on him for a while but he was not interested in me. (I think he thinks I'm too old -he dates 22 year olds.) He is 35, an IT recruiter in Virginia, Israeli by birth, a little short (5'7"), very attractive and athletic (thanks to lots of soccer) and a very kind, sweet friend. Oh, and we had sex twice. Friend sex. But pretty great friend sex.

I started with Mr. Beckham. I presented my case and asked him to consider donating his sperm. He asked for time to think about it, but eventually said no. I wasn't as crushed as I thought I would be because I prepped myself for a "no."
I can't say that I would say yes, if I were a man either. Unless you are a gay man, it really could be a very sticky situation. No pun intended.

After that, I sent an email to Mr. French asking the same of him. I never got a reply. There is an element of flakiness to him, so I was not at all hurt or surprised. Either he never saw the email or was completely nonplussed. Again, it's fine and I figure this is the way it was meant to be.

There would have been a lot of advantages to having a "Known Donor." It does make uncovering medical records and family history a LOT easier. I did like the idea of knowing that I cared about the man who gave me this gift. I would also have liked my child to meet his biological father or even have him in his life in a limited way (if the man wanted that).

I harbored no delusions that either of these men would ever want to be an active father in my child's life, nor would it ever develop into a love relationship with me. Sadly, there are women in my SMC online group who do exactly that; approach a donor praying someday the man will want to marry them. It feels so pathetic when I read their confessions. That just reinforced my decision to move on to a sperm bank donor.

So, the search continues...

What Were You Thinking?!?!?!

2008-04-03T13:20:00.007-04:00

If I were a friend of mine and I told me what I was thinking...I may just have to MURDER ME!!!

I received an invitation to a birthday party today. An old friend is throwing a big bash in Washington, DC in May and asked me to fly home for the event. The opportunity to go home, see so many friends whom I love and have fun was one I'd never pass-up. Within ten minutes, I was looking for cheap flights.

Within twenty minutes, I had a thought: what if I called LDB and asked him to come to the party? Would he come? Would he even talk to me? Would I be opening a can of worms AGAIN???

If I were a friend of mine and I told me what I was thinking...I'd be shocked and horrified. How could that thought even crop up in the back on my mind after everything we went through? Am I really that much of a sick masochist? Why would I ever court that kind of pain again?

Why does my brain work like this? In high school, the more Joe Dare hurt me and turned away, the more I wanted him. I know this is not an uncommon human behavior... but it's sick! I had to have him. I could only be happy when I was with him. Down the road, I would learn that my feelings for him were not misplaced. He grew up into an amazing, kind, loving and sweet man. I happened to see that in him all along, even when he behaved like a jackass. There are still times when I wonder if we'll find our way back to each other one day. That was far too passionate a love affair to have meant nothing. And the fact that we are still in contact prompts those thoughts (and hot dreams) too.

This cannot be something I allow to permeate my thoughts as I prepare to move home to Washington.

Apology Accepted

2008-03-29T16:26:00.004-04:00

After freaking out about my boss's obvious anti-Semitic tendencies, I took my case just above him to his superior in the company. This is a large media conglomerate with very strict rules and regulations so I knew my cries would not fall upon deaf ears. It certainly didn't hurt that the man to whom I turned is named David Isreal and quite Jewish too.

I asked for a meeting the next day after our radio show ended at 10 AM. David did not disappoint. He was kind and understanding and assured me that this was not what any of the management had in mind when they charged my boss with directing the morning show and its hosts.

I did uncover that my boss blatantly lied about the gathered managers discussing my references to being Jewish. At no time did it ever come up in conversation. Furthermore, David assured me that no one in management believes this to be an issue.

David ended our meeting by promising to handle the situation. He would meet with my boss and make sure that he knows he was wrong.

I had an unpleasant moment when I tried to cover all of my bases by going to speak with Human Resources. The woman in charge revealed that someone else had already told her the story and that mine was completely different. It was OBVIOUSLY my boss, but she refused to say. She then implied that some may think I am lying and that this is a "He said, she said" situation. I was floored and furious! How dare he run to the person who should be MY advocate and try to undermine me!

The following day, my boss asked me to stay after a meeting and he apologized to me for hurting me and making it such a personal attack. I accepted and suggested that we just move on.

I still don't think he fully understands the depth of the insult, nor how close he came to getting the company sued for discrimination. I told HR that I accepted the apology, but I will never forget and that means I am watching and listening carefully, should he screw up again!!!

Shock and Awe

2008-03-24T21:17:00.004-04:00

Just when I think that my life can't get worse...

In a lunch meeting with our program director today, my co-host and I were made extremely aware of his dislike for us and the job we are doing. Besides telling us that we are not the show he would like on his station, he made it clear that he feels we're overpaid and underproducing.

Fair enough. Not true, but those were the last professional things he said today.

In trying to give examples of why we are unrelatable to the Jacksonville audience, this small, petty man stated that we talked about my being Jewish too much. He seems to believe that we "showcase" my Judaism and that is turning off women who listen.

Unable to fathom that he would actually say something so stupid, I felt the need to ask questions to clarify. Sure enough, he confirmed that it's perfectly relatable for Mark to tell stories about going to Catholic Church but because there is a smaller Jewish population, I shouldn't mention that I'm Jewish anymore.

In giving anecdotal evidence, he brought up my leaving early from work to go to Temple LAST OCTOBER on Yom Kippur. He said we shouldn't have said that's where I was going. When asked what we should have said, he said to say I have an appointment.
That's right, it's better to LIE than to say I am Jewish!!!

To say I am offended is an understatement. I'm hurt, angry and could not look that man in the eye for the rest of lunch. I don't want to go into work tomorrow knowing that there is so little respect for who I am and what I am all about.

Being a Jew is so important to me. I am so proud of it and feel so deeply about the how and why of it. I didn't arrive here easily. To have it marginalized like this is appalling.

I am not sure what I do next. I've felt sick all night and spoken with my co-host, agent and rabbi. For once, we're all in agreement about how heinous this was.
I've spoken to a judge and he recommends talking to a lawyer and looking into the possibility of pursuing this legally.

Dr. No

2008-03-22T20:09:00.005-04:00

When I first considered getting pregnant and having a child as a single mother, I had no idea where to turn next. I had a vague idea about sperm banks and fertility doctors but I didn't know where to start.

I had actually toyed with the idea of having a baby alone more than a year ago. Emotionally, I was in a much stronger place so I dove right into the research. I looked into a couple of purveyors of fine sperm and also joined SMC - Single Mothers by Choice. I did absolutely nothing with the info...until now.

The lovely ladies of SMC are a wealth of knowledge when it comes to getting started on the road to Babyville, population: me!

After looking into the success rates of the local fertility clinics, I made an appointment with Dr. Kevin Winslow at the Florida Institute for Reproductive Medicine.

I was so excited and hopeful! I did my homework, made sure I had all of my questions ready and waited for Dr. Winslow to tell me how we were going to get me pregnant. If only it went the way I played it in my mind.

Instead of matching my enthusiasm, Dr. Winslow peed all over my Wheaties. After reviewing my medical history and chatting for a bit, Dr. Wins-NO told me that he didn't think I would be able to get pregnant using my own eggs. He felt that I was just too old and would have to go directly to the most aggressive treatment: in vitro fertilization with donor eggs. This would mean I would be my own surrogate. I would carry and give birth to a child who is not genetically mine.

The moment I got into my car, I burst into tears.

Nothing I read in my research prepared me for that consultation. I knew that 39 was old for baby making and that previous miscarriages may play a part but I never expected the doctor to want to start with the most aggressive, most expensive treatment. IVF with donor eggs costs upwards of $30,000!

Perhaps I am not meant to be a mother after all.

Good Grief

2008-03-10T20:44:00.007-04:00

I am in mourning. I have experienced a death and I am now desperately trying to come to grips with the loss.
In reality, I experienced several losses or deaths in a row and I can hardly believe I am still standing.

If we go back a few months, we find the loss of a man I believed to be the embodiment of all the things I'd been looking for in a man. Shortly after, the loss of the baby I might have had with that man.

Finally, I am now trying to deal with the death of a dream. Actually, "the" dream. The one we, as women, have had since we could dream: husband, kids and a home.

I do take partial responsibility for the death of the dream. In order to move forward in my life, I have been advised that I must first mourn what will never be. My rabbi was the first person to advise me to do this. When I was in the throes of heartbreak over LDB, Sunny convinced me it was ok to treat this like a death and to fully mourn it by going through the five stages of grief. It felt so self-indulgent at first but soon I gave in to the Anger and Depression. I felt as though I'd already went through the Denial and Bargaining at the tail end of the relationship. And yes, I finally reached Acceptance.

This process started all over again when I miscarried.

Much to my dismay, when I joined the Single Mothers by Choice group, I found out the first thing we are supposed to do is grieve the death of "the" dream. That is the first step to becoming ok with having a child on your own. You must get in the mindset that you would have preferred to do it as a part of a couple, but that is just not an option. They say that if you mourn the loss of the dream, you will come to accept the circumstances in which you are having a baby.

Unfortunately, I believe someone forgot the sixth stage of grief: the backslide. For every day I think I've accepted that I am single and that I can have a baby on my own, I have a day or two of crying over my loneliness or feel the sheer panic over trying to raise a child alone.

The honest truth: I don't know where to go from here and I am scared to death.

Maybe, Baby?

2008-01-30T20:56:00.005-05:00

As I slowly emerge from the hormonally enhanced depression I've been in for almost two months, I am coming to some important realizations. That was the whole point, wasn't it?

I have been in denial for a very long time now. I thought it was just my personal preferences and philosophies that made me want to have children only in the context of a marriage or committed relationship. But I now believe that I have been in denial about
my future. I've wanted to cling to the belief that he would still come along. Mr. Right was on his way and he'd arrive in plenty of time for me to have children. I would still have the dream someday. I would fall in love, get married and create a family.

I've been sticking to this so long, even I believed it.

With my 40th birthday looming, I took another look at my future. I asked those SCARY questions we never even want to think about. All those unpleasant little details that I've avoided for so long: I looked, asked and stopped avoiding.

First and and foremost, 40 is old for childbearing. Statistics don't lie. Do you KNOW a woman's probability of getting pregnant and by how much it drops with age? These numbers sent my head spinning.

22-25 years old: 25%
26 years old: 24.75%
27 years old: 24.50%
28 years old: 24.25%
29 years old: 23.50%
30 years old: 22%
31 years old: 20%
32 years old: 18%
33 years old: 16%
34 years old: 14%
35 years old: 12%
36 years old: 10%
37 years old: 8.5%
38 years old: 7%
39 years old: 6%
40 years old: 5% - As of May 26, Here I am!!!
41 years old: 4%
42 years old: 3%
43 years old: 2.5%
44 years old: 2%
45 years old: 1%
46 years old: .5%

That's right, despite all the Hollywood stars who seem to put it off until they're well into their 40's and then miraculously they are pregnant with twins! Or they have two or three babies one after another. And then, of course, they lose the baby weight in a week.

So, I am getting old and I need to look at my life differently. That's the epiphany I had.
It doesn't seem like a big thing when I write it here, but it is a big thing that took me years to admit.

So, the grieving continues but it shifts.

I need to do that in order to plan my next move. And this time, I don't mean moving to DC or leaving radio.
If I want children, I have to act now. Right now.
So, I will act now. RIght now.
I will pursue the idea of having a child on my own.

Testing, testing...1,2,3...

2008-01-27T20:22:00.001-05:00

As a Jew, I am fated to struggle with G-d for all time.
So, it is little surprise that I am presently struggling with the "test" which G-d has put before me these last few months.

I have asked my Hazzan, my spiritual leader, why would G-d test me with love after I had been alone for more than a year? It's was not as if I had been whoring around, disrespecting my body or my life. Quite the opposite. I chose to be alone rather than give myself to just anyone.
In recent history, I have not dated anyone who was committed elsewhere. I have not knowingly hurt anyone, nor have I caused pain where it could be avoided. The one break-up I instigated in the past two years was carefully thought through and was delivered as delicately as possible. I even kept my mouth shut and avoided Loshon Hora when that man then bad-mouthed me to co-workers and friends! So why, then, should I be tested and then judged in such a severe way?

Thus, the struggle. I look for answers; I beg G-d to show me the way. If I was so unworthy of love that I should warrant a stumbling block to my happiness, then why even bring LDB into my life? Why not just keep me single, lonely and locked away in hideous Northern Florida? Why do something so cruel as to put someone so incredibly perfect before me to love and then remove him in the most hurtful way? Does G-d not love me?

Even the Hazzan believed that G-d was in some way being just in catching both LDB and me in his trap. He feels that perhaps this wasn't my test after all. Perhaps G-d was trying to teach LDB or even his wife a lesson? But even the Hazzan was humbled when I miscarried. There was not even the suggestion of a test from G-d where THAT was concerned.

I have been praying more and more frequently asking for G-d to reveal himself. Although I know I am in no position to demand anything of the sort. I don't mean it as impertinence, only as a faithful servant asking how I can best serve? As Jews, aren't we supposed to marry and have children?

And when do the tests stop and the blessings begin?

Gone Baby, Gone

2008-01-19T10:44:00.002-05:00

Just as the pain of losing LDB was beginning to subside, I seemed to have some sort of relapse. It came on quite suddenly and ferociously. It seemed a little odd to me that I would start feeling so much better, only to drop one day immediately into a black abyss of sadness. One would expect a day or two of sliding before a crash, no?

Without warning, I began crying non-stop and feeling so insanely hopeless that I could barely force myself to go to work. After one seven hour crying jag, I began to suspect some other little demons were at work. At first, I just thought I was headed toward an extra fun premenstrual week. However, I noticed a few extra special symptoms.

Food was not appealing in any way. The mere thought made my stomach turn. My sense of smell became so strong I could detect the slightest whiff of perfume, cologne or air freshener and these were not good things. The list goes on but suffice it to say that I was quickly coming to the realization that my connection to LDB was not over. It may have been just beginning. (Hmm... is THAT why I'm dreaming about him non-stop???)

By the next night, I realized my period was late (I am NEVER late) and I had determined that I would need to go buy an early pregnancy test and get confirmation. I was feeling worse and worse physically and my mental state wasn't much better. I went to bed early but I awoke around 1 AM in a sweat and a pool of blood. It was bead. There were elements that I cannot even describe here. I knew exactly what was happening.

Two days of bleeding, fever and feeling like I was hit by a truck gave way to even more sadness, as I knew that I had had a miscarriage.

Two dreams dead.

Get Out!

2008-01-05T20:50:00.001-05:00

Please stop this. Leave me alone. Why are you here?

Why are you in my head whenever I close my eyes? That smile. That genuine smile that spread so slowly across your face and lit up your dark eyes when you first realized it was me standing there. That's what I see when I close my eyes. The world could read your every thought and feeling from just that smile. I know I could.

And now I see it constantly.
The thoughts and tears had slowed for a while. Working and keeping busy helped me block you and your smile from popping into my head in two minute intervals as they had for weeks. But you're back. That smile when you recognized me. The look in your eyes the first time we kissed. I can feel you standing behind me kissing my shoulder. I can remember you actually wanting me.

I can hear your voice on the phone. I can hear you telling me things you've never told anyone. I can hear you asking me to tell you something no one knows, and I did. I told you things that I've always hidden deep inside. Things I've NEVER told anyone. Things I was too scared to share with any man: I shared them with you. We wanted the same things. Do you remember?
Now I can't even tell you about the dream I had about you while I slept next to you.

How many times did you ask me to go home to Israel with you? Relaxing together and being away from everything and everyone else that dominated your thoughts sounded so amazing. What if I had said yes? What would you have done? What would you do now?

Why did you just quit? How could you talk about these things with me, kiss me, be everything I dreamed and then just walk away as if it never happened? Do you ever think about me at all? Was I really just a means to an end? I still don't want to believe you would use me that way. That you felt so little for me. That you feel nothing for me now. I don't want to believe it, but I guess I have to if I ever want to stop crying. Will I ever stop crying???

So you have to go. Please, I'm begging you to leave me alone. Let me go back to being alone with no memory of our time together and the dreams you made me believe were possible.
Stop making me care and wonder where you are and what you are doing.
Stop being everything I wanted.

Please let me hate you and take away my pain.

Or come back.

What Have I Done Now?

2007-12-30T12:06:00.003-05:00

What I have done is bring upon myself all of the grief and sadness I'd been working so long and so hard to escape. I have absolutely no one to blame but myself for my pain. Just when I thought I couldn't hurt any more than I do... LDB's wife calls.

On top of all the pain and doubt I feel about myself, I have now admitted that I sank so low as to seduce another woman's husband -- even when technically, I didn't. I wrote a long email to LDB to express how much he hurt me and his wife -- with whom HE STILL LIVES -- read it. By Christmas morning, she had gotten a hold of my phone number and called me to confront me. LDB had called to warn me ahead of time. That would be the last nice thing he did because he then allowed ME to lie and say that it had been ALL ME. Can you imagine? I still care about this guy enough to LIE for him and say that I'm a dirty whore who followed this woman's husband to Detroit. Now I have given him not only my heart, but my honor.

I am still painfully aware that LDB made huge mistakes and is also responsible for my pain. He can't seem to correspond with me without apologizing again and again. But really, I allowed him to hurt me. I let him in. I acted on all my emotional and physical attraction and completely ignored my brain screaming, "Don't do this!!"

Being on vacation, I have minutes, hours, days to think and rethink what happened. I am trying to come back from this devastation. Baby steps. Last night was the first time I haven't cried myself to sleep in more than a week. But that doesn't mean I've stopped thinking about LDB and my broken heart at least once every hour.

I allowed myself to be carried away far from reality. I opened up to him and told him things I've NEVER admitted to anyone. There's such a deep sense of betrayal now. That level of intimacy we reached made the end feel so much crueler. Like I was lured into the house with promises of candy and then shoved into the oven by the evil witch!!! I'm badly burned and desperately trying to find the bread crumbs I dropped so I can go home. (Hey, work with me here.)

My need for love is so desperate that I was willing to overlook all that is morally and ethically right in order to fulfill my own desires. And even after it was clear that my dream was not to be fulfilled, I took care of HIS feelings and reputation. I put myself in an awful position to try to save HIS TUCHAS. I slipped deeply into that co-dependent place again and this is why I've enlisted the help of my rabbi.

After a 90 minute phone counseling session, it is clear that this was a test from G-d and I failed. I forgot everything that was important to me about being a good Jew and a good person in general.

That Familiar Pain

2007-12-23T15:21:00.002-05:00

I was right.

The phone call began like any other -- chatting about his weekend, mine, etc... There was the brief explanation as to where he was yesterday when he couldn't be bothered to call or even text me back. Of course, I already knew the reason and it had nothing to do with being busy or attending a party.

LDB made it clear that I failed to live up to his expectations.

It was just a "good" time, not great.
He actually said to me, "Was it amazing? Did it make me know exactly what I want? No."

I feel like my heart has just been ripped out of my chest.

WTF???

2007-12-22T18:00:00.002-05:00

I am not a patient person. I am a typical, spoiled, instant gratification-loving American. I want what I want and I want it now. So now that there are issues with the man I am interested in, I'm not handling it very well.

That's right, it's only been a few weeks and we already have major issues. However, I don't happen to consider them anything that is insurmountable. To me, they are speed bumps. I wish I could say the same for LDB. It seems as though he does not believe in us the way I do. Perhaps it's just nerves. Perhaps I let him down on our long-awaited second date.

There are the two problems that we knew of from the start: his marital status and our geographic distance. The marital issue is further complicated by his current lack of a green card. He cannot file for divorce before April or he will be deported and will not be allowed back. I am under the impression this marriage is over but his wife does not know he is seeing me. There's a good chance she will not be agreeable about the situation and could cause trouble with his immigration status. They are not "legally" separated.

By Friday after our amazing reconnection, LDB was having major second thoughts. He expressed these to me on the phone that afternoon and I had a VERY severe reaction. I cried for three days. Literally. I can't say I even really understand why I feel this way. Why so much drama over this? We were acquaintances who were attracted to each other and are trying to take it to the next level. What was was tearing me apart about this?

When I told LDB how upset I was that he told me about all of his concerns, he said that he thought it was one of our best conversations. He feels if we can be that honest, tell each other our darkest fears and still make it work: that's a great, strong relationship.

Despite his misgivings, LDB invited me to come visit him in Detroit while he was there for work. I booked my flight immediately. I was even happier that in the days before I had my visit, LDB had begun to get excited about us again. He was talking to me like we were back on the same page. Until the visit.

I realize that it was not an easy thing to juggle me with his work schedule and whatever is really going on with his wife. His boss is very demanding and I think that LDB is even more demanding on himself. I tried to keep in mind that part of his behavior had to be attributed to distraction.

LDB was suddenly very shy around me. Compared to the night of the party, he was quite subdued. I felt incredibly awkward. We just had a quick kiss hello at the airport and nothing after that. He barely looked at me and didn't touch me once.

We took a tour of the hotel/casino and then sat for coffee and (as always) amazing conversation for a while before he had to go back for a work meeting. As always, I was fascinated by him. He told me all about the work he's doing and the men for whom he works. I kissed him goodbye at the valet and he seemed to warm up a little.

We went to dinner later that night with his boss. He told me earlier that he was nervous about two such important people in his life meeting. I *thought* got along fine with his boss but he made me nervous and I froze and went blank when quizzed me about certain simple Judaic facts. I felt like an idiot when I couldn't come up with the answers. LDB just sat there smiling and winking at me for support. Oddly, that worked.

Later, we went and had a glass of wine at the bar and it was here I realized he was completely disconnected from me. He stared at the bartender as I was trying to have a conversation with him. By the time we got back to the room, I wanted to just pack and leave. This was NOT good. I was suddenly with someone I felt I barely knew. Even worse, I was with someone who clearly didn't want to be there with ME!!!

LDB was in and out of bed and didn't sleep all night. But when he was able to stay next to me...he would snuggle up or touch me in some way. That was ONLY reason I didn't totally give up on him. The next day he continued to be the King of the Mixed Signals.

We went to his work site and then with his boss to the airport. I sat silently in the back seat and when I did speak, I felt as though nothing I said was good enough. The questions this time were mostly personal and career related. I felt inadequate in every possible way and I began to cry though I would NEVER let them see.

Our goodbye was quick and awkward at the car. In the safety of the plane I broke down and cried my eyes out.

Upon returning home, I planned to sleep for days. Good thing, because if I was waiting for a call or text from LDB, I would have been waiting an awfully long time. When I did hear from him after a day and a half, I texted him a good morning and then a Shabbat Shalom at 5 PM Friday. That got him to call for an extremely superficial conversation.

As of today, we have not spoken nor have I texted him. What a mess.

Happy Hanukkah to Me!

2007-12-10T18:55:00.004-05:00

I am about to become that girl who drives all her friends crazy because she won't stop talking about a guy.
I don't want to be that girl...she is soo annoying! But I'm not going to be able to help myself. There is someone
whose name I want to shout from the roof tops.

So, in the interest of sparing my friends this boring chatter, I will blog all about him. Hopefully, I'll get it out of my
system by writing about him here and I won't need to constantly reference him throughout the day.

A few blog posts back, I wrote about the Israeli guy I dated a few summers ago. After fighting, breaking-up and plenty of stupidity, we have managed to become friends again. In fact, he even invited me to be his "date" for his company's holiday party this past weekend.

Now, seeing as I was bored with Jacksonville, DYING to go back to DC, I decided this would be a FABULOUS trip! Happy Hanukkah to me!!! Plus, he told me that all of his friends miss me and would be at the party to see me. How could I possibly disappoint them?

I told "IA" to meet me at the hotel elevators. I noticed it immediately: he was sweet and fun but was a bit detached. Even when posing for pictures, he wouldn't touch me! He would put his arm around me without touching me. Who does that???

I immediately assumed that he wanted to make sure I didn't think anything was going to happen. I was actually fine with that. Truth is, I wasn't feeling it either. I'm sure with enough alcohol I could feel it, but this was for the best.

Little did I know, he had ulterior motives. He failed to tell me that he has a girlfriend in Israel who is moving to the US to be with him at the end of this month. He also skipped over the fact that he invited me to the party for one of those friends who wanted to see me.

When I dated him, we often hung out with a couple who were close friends of his. From the moment I met them, I had a bit of a crush on the guy. It was not as if we spent a lot of time together and we were never alone but there was an electricity (at least for me) I was very drawn to him. I had these fantasies about the guy but I was also infatuated with IA so I would NEVER have done anything about it.

Plus, all those fantasies ceased when my now ex called to tell me that they were getting married. That was that. Oddly, it bothered me so much that I can remember exactly where I was when I heard this bit of news!

When he said that the guy wanted to come to the party to see me and that he was super excited, I must admit I got butterflies. I couldn't wait to see him and I was just praying he didn't bring his wife. When I asked if she was coming, he broke the news that they were not in a good place. IA said he didn't think they even talked anymore. He then told me that back when we were dating, the guy confessed he had a big crush on me. I was STUNNED! And few minutes later, I saw him.

It was like something out of a movie. I looked up and our eyes locked. He had a huge smile on his face and looked so incredbly handsome. I was transfixed. I ran to him and hugged him. Unlike the luke-warm reception from IA, LDB held me tight and I felt lightheaded. Chemistry. Very powerful.

When I think back now, I realize that my ex pretty much dropped off the face of the earth for me at that moment. I took LDB's hand and we went to get him a drink from the bar. We sat on a nearby bench and talked about everything that's happened in the last year. I have no idea how long we were there, but my ex had to come looking for us.

The conversation was amazing. It's crazy that we were sitting there getting to know each other as if we were on a great first date. Then again, I felt like we were!

With the way I was feeling, I couldn't help but question his marriage. He said that they wanted different things and it can't possibly work so they have separated and are planning to file for divorce.

By the time my ex came to get us, I'd forgotten I was there as HIS "date." He dragged us into the other room to dance, but we stayed on the side continuing to talk. After a while, it was undeniable. Something was going to happen. And I couldn't wait. It was like the natural progression of that great first date...eventually you want him to kiss you. At some point, he did and I couldn't hold back anymore. I felt a MAJOR connection.

Okay, it's not very mature, but we made-out like our plane was going down!

After the party, he walked me to my hotel room and I invited him in. I told him then and there I would NOT sleep with him. He said he had rules too and we had to have at least two more dates. So we continued to kiss and talk until almost 4 in the morning!

Lots of conversation about family and our mutual difficulties with our fathers.

I have thought of nothing and no one else since he left my hotel room. I've been running every moment back through my mind over and over. I love this time in a potential relationship!

A Hell of My Own Making

2007-12-04T11:31:00.001-05:00

When I was fired from my radio show in Washington, DC one year ago, it was the perfect opportunity to make some changes in my life. I could start to think about a career outside of radio for the first time in my life. I could pursue my writing, apply to work at a company I really believe in, try to change my fate. The whole world was wide open -- limited only by my imagination. Well, and by common sense.

How do those people do it? I have friends who leave a job or a place with barely a dollar to their name and go to the city of their dreams to start anew? The mere thought of going without a salary or health insurance for more than a month is terrifying to me! I spent so many years listening to my mother complain about being poor and I absorbed every ounce of fear she felt about going under financially.

So, here I am, trapped in a hell of my own making with no escape for at least another year because I signed a 2 year contract with this radio station purely for financial security. And even in a year, I'm not sure I will have the guts to completely leave radio behind and start all over again at the age of 40.

My current situation feels completely untenable. I am working in a field that doesn't challenge me anymore and in which I lost interest a few years back. I am living in Florida: the most heinous state in the US and the only place I swore I'd never live again. At work, I am paired with a partner with whom the best of times feel like a root canal sans novocaine.

I have already begun looking for other jobs outside of broadcasting and outside of Florida. Of course, since I am not able to move right now or take another job, I am finding a TON of plum positions. All the right jobs in all the right places I'd love to live. That doesn't mean I would actually get hired...but this is MY blog and I'll assume if I want to!!!

I miss those days when I could make a decision and do something without thinking it through to the nth degree. I would fly by the seat of my pants into a new place and new life every couple of years. I would just live with the consequences of a capricious decision and everything always worked out fine. I broke so many leases in my twenties!!! What am I so afraid of? I don't have a family for whom I must provide or worry about uprooting. If my singlehood has provided no other luxuries, it has given me the ability to make decisions based soley on what's good for me and no one else.

And yet, I'm still paralyzed. There are so many what ifs.
(Like what if I never get out of this place?)

A Stranger Among Us

2007-11-21T17:38:00.000-05:00

Many years ago, just after my mother passed away, my whole family scattered across the country. Frankly, we were barely able to tolerate each other and my mother was the glue that held us together. Without her, there was no reason whatsoever to be tortured by the company of our relatives ever again.
Because I have no real family to visit on holidays, I'm often invited to spend them with families of friends or the man I'm dating at the time. So, I have spent the majority of my holidays with strangers for the last 17 years. As a result, holidays hold no real special meaning to me anymore.
When people ask me what I'm doing for Thanksgiving and I say that I have no special plans other than relaxing at home, I am always met with a look of pity and an invitation to join them and their respective families for dinner. I'm always grateful for the kind offers but hate the position in which it puts me. Not only does it not bother me to be alone and do little or nothing on Thanksgiving, but it does actually bother me to spend a day with strangers and struggle for several hours to try to fit in.
I realize that this is going to come off a little bitchy and I'll sound like an ingrate, but I feel the need to tell the truth about the single gal in the strangers' homes.

1. It's not you, it's me. Please understand that when we turn down your kind offer, it's not an invitation for you to pressure us! We didn't say no because we were afraid to make more work for you or make you feel "put out." We are truly saying no because it's really what we want!

2. Alone Again, Naturally. Some of us really enjoy time to ourselves and sometimes a holiday is the only way we get some of that precious downtime. Just because spending a day alone may make you sad or lonely doesn't mean we all feel that way. In some ways, that is a holiday from the rest of our crowded, busy lives.

3. We Are (not) Family. As lovely as it may be to get together with family for Thanksgiving, it is actually very difficult for non-family guests. We are not only on our very best behavior and being personality plus but we are also (sometimes) dealing with the sadness of being the outsider. Some may miss being with their families and trying to smile and hide it is tough work!

It is important to note that none of this applies if the single gal in question is being invited to spend her first holiday with a boyfriend's family. That is a very special step in a relationship and that invitation will rarely be turned down!
Happy Thanksgiving!

Weighty Issues

2007-11-18T22:22:00.000-05:00

I have these thoughts all the time. They all start with "Since I'm single, I should..."
Many of these thoughts include doing things that I have always believed would make me completely unappealing to the opposite sex. See the irony?

The one I have most often is, "Since I'm single, I should eat whatever I want and just go ahead and gain weight." Oddly, the only time I have ever really packed on the pounds is when I was in a committed relationship and living with a man for three years. We both got complacent and gained weight. A month after we broke up, I worked my ass of to lose it -- literally!
When I am single I think these types of thoughts a lot. My thought process usually starts with, "Hmm, I really want Chick-Fil-A for lunch, but I really shouldn't. Eh, why not? I won't gain that much weight. Maybe I'll start working out again. Although I doubt it. Who cares if I gain weight anyway? I'm single. No one wants me while I'm thin anyway; I may as well just eat what I like and gain the weight. Then maybe I'd understand why I don't have a man. Besides, there are many overweight women who fall in love and get married. Maybe that's me?"
It doesn't stop there. I go down this road with other areas of my personal appearance as well. Whenever I cut my hair short I reason with myself, "Men LOVE long hair. But they aren't the ones blowdrying it and dealing with it every day. Plus, many women with short hair attract men and get married. (Seeing a pattern?)
Changing my hair from blonde to dark after 16 years was a huge step. I did take the plunge and go auburn but I recently starting thinking about blonding-up again. Do you think more blondes or brunettes get married? Or...
"Perhaps I'll go out in sweats and without make-up just this once. It's not like I'm trying to impress anyone at Publix. Many women who go without make-up get married eventually." Ok, that one is bullshit.

I go out in sweats and without make-up all the time.

Playing this little game with myself cannot be healthy. Is this some sort of eating disorder?
I do care about my own appearance but I think it is purely tied to getting attention from men. And as I age, I get less and less of that attention whether or I'm thin or not. I get so tired of worrying about what other people think. At what age do we finally learn to accept our physical selves? Does body image continue to dog us into our golden years? Perhaps I'll start eating and hope for a heart attack instead.

Are We There Yet?

2007-11-17T19:56:00.000-05:00

Autumn has finally come to North Florida and I couldn't be happier. I was desperate for cold air to hit my face. I couldn't wait to bust out my sweaters and jeans and maybe even a winter coat. Sadly, I won't get to have the type of winter I truly love with snow and ice.

I'm not going to bitch and complain anymore about being where I don't want to be. What I am going to do is change my situation. I am dedicated to making my life what I want it to be. For 20 years I've been at the mercy of my radio and television career. I've lived where the best job was. If that meant leaving behind the love of my life or a place that finally felt like home; so be it.
Well, no more.

It's finally time to take control of that aspect of my life. I want to be the one to decide where I live. That's such a foreign concept right now. I am praying that I can really have a career as a writer and be able to choose where I spend the rest of my life!

I'm just so tired of sacrificing. When do we get to do what we want to do, where we want to do it? Life feels like a long drive when you're a kid and don't recognize anything along the way. So I keep thinking, "Are we there yet?"

The Bushnell League

2007-11-12T22:06:00.000-05:00

I am fresh from a visit to the New York Observer web site. No, this was no random visit. You see, I read that The Observer has begun to reprint and post the old original Sex and the City columns by Candace Bushnell. Being an obsessive SATC fan, (yes, even now - all these years after it ended), I decided I wanted to go back and read the archives from which the TV show I love was started.
I have one thing to say...WHAT THE FUCK???
This is the clever, witty, topical, funny writing that was so inspirational? This is CRAP. It's unreadable. What intelligent New Yorker read this column in the mid-nineties and thought this was groundbreaking? If anything, it proves that Darren Starr and Michael Patrick King are magnificent bastards! Darren for finding any usable material in the drivel that Candace turned out and King for writing what Candace didn't: a brilliant commentary on women, men, relationships and shoes.

I was actually giving Candace a second chance. I'd first discovered that she couldn't write when I read her follow-up to Sex and the City, called Four Blondes. My first reaction was: this woman scribbled some notes on a bar napkin, her publisher let an intern edit it and they put it on the market knowing it would sell millions based solely on the success of the HBO series unjustifiably credited to the same author. The book was horrible.
Now this woman has sold ANOTHER book to TV? Yes, Candace's book Lipstick Jungle is going to be a television series starring Brooke Shields. Although, I can't help but note that it's been pushed back yet again and is, at best, now a mid-season replacement.

Sad as it is to admit, part of the reason I wanted to be a writer was because of Carrie Bradshaw and SATC. I have a variety of other authors who inspire me as well but Carrie inspired me to write a column and keep it real. Deep down inside I know that Carrie Bradshaw is based on Candace Bushnell. Despite this fatal flaw in her character, I still love Carrie.

Slacker? I Hardly Know her!

2007-11-11T12:04:00.002-05:00

No!!! I swear I haven't been slacking! It's just the opposite. I have been writing that column online for Jacksonville.com!!!
I wrote my first column last night using a post from here. Of course, I had to make it a little more "public friendly." Then I laid awake until 3 AM -- my mind buzzing with dozens of topics. I have the next ten columns already lined up in my brain. I feel great that I'm conquering one of my biggest fears about writing: lack of inspiration.
I was always scared that I would have a job where I had to come up with a topic and I would either come up with nothing or the things I would come up with wouldn't be interesting enough. The latter may still be an issue, we'll see!?

Elsewhere in life, I am dreading the next couple of weeks. I have really struggled since moving to Florida and it's about to get more difficult.
This part of Florida is unlike anyplace I've ever lived. It is not at all comparable to Miami or Ft. Lauderdale or even Sarasota. I live in Northeast Florida, near the Georgia state line. This, my friends, is the DEEP SOUTH. An interesting slice of America where people are actually proud to be called "Redneck." We are near the Christian Bible Belt and knee deep in Conservative Right Wing Republicans. Not exactly my utopia.
I came here from Washington, DC about ten months ago and have been battling homesickness. It hasn't just been the usual feelings that this move was forced on me by a job change or the sentimentality of missing my friends and the familiar. It has also been the realization that I am much more of a metropolitan "city girl" than even I knew myself to be.
I don't need to live on a busy city block with sirens screaming all night long, but I do need to be surrounded by people with the mental agility to spar with me. At the very least, I need a friend with whom I have something in common.
The one thing that made this place bearable over the last few months was my friendship with a co-worker named Lauren. We had a bond I didn't expect to find so soon. Lauren and I are both single Jewish women in our thirties, unhappy with our current situations. Neither of us is thrilled with our jobs, the men we meet or the city in which we live. We'd often talked about escape but she made good on it before I could. On November 21st, Lauren will move back home to Boca Raton to live with her parents and figure out what to do next.
Lauren was one of those people with whom you feel comfortable almost immediately. She was a true girlfriend in every sense of the word. Someone I could call crying about my latest dating disaster and on whom I could rely to attend High Holiday Services with me at a strange synagogue. (And I do mean strange)
I doubt we will ever live near one another again because I fully intend to move back up north at the first opportunity. However, I will always remember Lauren and be forever in her debt for making my first few months here a lot better. And Lauren, you should feel very good as you have carried out a very important mitzvah. Good Luck!

Blog Lite - Great Taste, Less to Read

2007-11-05T20:02:00.000-05:00

Not feeling my best tonight, so this will be just a quick, little update post.

I took a step forward in my quest to be a writer last night. The local newspaper (like most) has an online partner. I noticed that this website invites members of the community to be columnsists. If approved, you can submit your column weekly, bi-weekly or monthly. The only downside is that I won't get paid to write the column.

I proposed a column called "Maybe, Maybe Not" to be written bi-weekly. This site already has two other women writing columns on being single and dating. Neither seems to be writing updated columns anymore and both were a completely different voice than mine.

My column will be the thirty-something single gal's life experiences with my special cynical slant. Think Sex and The City meets Elaine from Seinfeld. No silly pep talks. No religious coaching. Just the honest truth. You and I may never meet "The One." We may be single for life. But instead of waiting around for something that may not happen, LIVE YOUR LIFE! Celebrate YOU. Life is way too short to wait and hope for stuff to just happen to you.
Oh, plus I'll share all my really unbelieveably crappy dating experiences! That alone is worth the bookmark!
Click here to read my first column!

Like, What's Your Problem?

2007-11-03T19:02:00.000-04:00

I've wanted to be a writer for a long time. At least ten years. For the first five years I was in my own head thinking about how many great stories I could cull from my amazing life experiences. In the next five I started writing a novel. Well, writing off and on. Ironically, life is my inspiration to write but life keeps getting in the way of finishing my first book.
I'm about one-third finished just writing the story. I still need to go back in and flesh out the characters and add details and descriptions. I think about it every single day. I even think about it when I'm laying on the couch doing absolutely nothing. That's right, I lay there doing nothing when I could be writing my book. What the hell is my problem?
Sometimes I am just too tired from getting up at 4 AM and dealing with the everyday B.S. that comes with my job. But lately, I've been psyching myself out. I read a lot of books and I'm always comparing myself to other authors. I'm convinced that no one will want to publish my work or if they do, it will be in the half-off bin in a week.
I've rethought my subject a hundred times. I've tried to come up with a story I like better or that would be more marketable. I even started another book -- this time a non-fiction -- in the hopes of attracting a different audience. Really I've just found every reason not to pursue the dream of becoming a published author. And I've conveniently avoided all the rejection that comes along with submitting my work as well.

How do you stay motivated? How do you write when you really just don't feel like it? Do other writers go through this? I've heard about writer's block but what about writer's lazy-ass-wanna-lay-on-the-couch-and-watch-The-Young-and-the-Restless?

In With The Old...

2007-11-02T12:52:00.001-04:00

I wrote in a previous post that I have really put myself out there to try to find that someone special with whom to have a family. Included in my methods were blind dates, set ups by friends, going to events specifically designed for singles and the dreaded Internet Dating Site! (Cue ominous music...Dum, dum, dum!!!)
I started out on a site that is super popular in the Washington DC area called JDate - the Jewish online dating site. It was a perfect place for me to start as I had just started my conversion and I wanted to meet Jews in the area. Plus, I felt safer knowing that several friends had used the site without any major issues.
The first time I went on the site when I was 37, I found a few interesting candidates around my age.

JDate #1: A man in his early 40's met me for drinks/dinner at Rio Grande in Bethesda. Three minutes in, I knew this was NOT the man for me. He said he was 42 but this guy wasn't a day under 50. He was loud, obnoxious and completely in love with himself. He seemed to think this obnoxious behavior was perceived by others as him being "funny." The worst part had to be that he thought the date went great and asked to see me again. When I said no, he proceeded to call me a bitch.

JDate #2: A man in his mid-thirties who also met me at Rio Grande, but a different location. This guy was possibly the dullest person with whom I've ever spent time. I don't want to be unnecessarily cruel about him - he seemed kind hearted and polite - but I couldn't stop yawning and feeling as if my eyes were weighted. This lunch seemed as thought it would never end.

I almost quit right there. Then the next phase clicked in...every 25 year old on the site began emailing and instant messaging me! When I told them I was too old for them I got the "age is just a number" reply. This went on for weeks. It got to the point where I got no interest from men my age but I was overrun with Jewish dudes under 30 and over 60! Brutal!
I finally broke down and went out with one of the 25 year old guys.

Itsik is Israeli, had only been in the U.S. about two years and was working at the Israeli Embassy at the time. I'd given him my phone number on a particularly low Thursday because he was being so sweet trying to cheer me up on instant messager. Then he called and talked me into meeting him for a drink. What harm could it do? I'd meet him for one drink and we're out. But he insisted on picking me up at home. I wasn't totally comfortable with it, but again, my defenses were down.
It happened when I opened the door. I fell. Hard. He was adorable. Going out for drinks only made it worse. He was sweet and charming and hilarious! I'm sure it has something to do with having to serve in the Israeli Army at 18 no matter what, but he certainly had perspective beyond his years. In a haze of margaritas and laughter, I forgot he was 25. Drinks turned into dinner which turned into a good night kiss. I was smitten. And best of all, he gave me hope that I may still find a connection in this world.

This is not my beautiful life...

2007-10-30T08:59:00.000-04:00

When I was a child, I often dreamed of what my future would hold. I liked to imagine all the fabulous things I would do with my adult life. The possibilities were endless! I played out my fantasies of being a famous singer or actress on the stage. Then, there were a few unusual goals which I doubt anyone else really shared.
For example: How many of you decided that you would grow up to become a Southern Belle on a Plantation? Oh yes, I did. My childhood home was a white colonial with black shutters and a wrap around front porch. I was convinced it looked like a Southern Plantation circa Tara. I put on my best hats and long skirts, grabbed an umbrella as a parasol and chatted with people in my best Southern drawl. It was a sad day when I learned that I couldn't major in Belle Etiquette or get a B.A. in Plantation Management.

The one constant thread throughout my childhood dreams was falling in love, getting married and having a family. I was way more preoccupied with it than any of my little friends. I had every detail planned, down to my wedding dress. I could close my eyes and see my handsome husband; about 6 feet tall, dark hair, dark eyes, blindingly white teeth. We would meet when I was 24, date for a bit and marry at 26. We'd have two years of wedded bliss before finding out we were pregnant when I was 28. I would have a boy and then a girl a year later.

Funny thing happened on my way to 39 years of age...NONE OF THIS HAPPENED. I am fine with the fact that the plantation never materialized but every day that passes, I become more distraught over not finding a man with whom I could share my life and make these dreams come true.

From everything I heard and saw about the way life works, I'd assumed that we were just supposed to go to school, study, find something we're good at as a profession and the other stuff would just take care of itself. My tall, dark, beautiful man would come find me, sweep me off of my feet and make me his wife. Wasn't that how it was going to happen? I watched it happen to a few of my friends as we left college and struck out on our own. Surely I had to be next?

I found a career and even started to make a pretty good living by the age of 26, but no husband. I'd moved to several different major U.S. cities and was actually a sought-after radio personality by the age of 28, but no pregnancy. Still, I was undaunted. I was ok with the idea that I would have this family a few years later than I'd originally imagined. It was even better that I'd be a fabulous, successful radio personality first, allowing my future husband to meet me and fall madly in love with me when I was at the top of my game! Not to mention the possibility of becoming that power couple everyone secretly envied and admired at our social gatherings.

When I look back and think about it, I know that the fantasies of fame, fortune and petticoats were a supplement to the dream of my fabulous life. The main ingredient was always a family. I never needed to prove myself in the entertainment industry or business world. I didn't have to have a high paying job or my own show. The only thing I was certain I wanted and needed was a family even if I didn't express that on a constant basis. Unfortunately, as I got older the desire to have a family of my own would only grow stronger. As the family into which I was born began to disintegrate I felt more and more desperate to build a family of my own. Again, this has not happened.

My lovely friends all mean well when they try to help with stock phrases like, "Just wait, you'll meet someone. It will happen for you." Then there are the ones that make be want to punch them in the face like: "You pick the wrong men" or
"You're not putting yourself out there." I think these statements upset me so much because they blame me for my situation. Now, I realize that I am responsible for my own life. However, to place my current single status squarely on my shoulders is unfair. Ok, I'll give you that I have picked the wrong men a few times. Who hasn't? But I have been out there dammit! (I just happen to be taking a break from out there right now.)

Now I must do the unthinkable and face the fact that it may never happen for me. I have not found someone who loves me as I love him and I am quickly nearing the age at which I will no longer be able to have children (biologically). I have been trying everything I can think of to ease myself into this solitary life and still be a productive member of society. That's not exactly working out so well. These days I'm prone to crying jags that leave me exhausted and hopeless. The many walls I have carefully constructed over the years are starting to crack and wear down and I'm starting to reveal the true depth of my fear and pain. I am horribly vulnerable after pretending to be so strong for so many years. And I am alone. Utterly alone.

Good Jew, Bad Jew

2007-10-28T17:52:00.003-04:00

I converted from Christianity to Judaism. Officially, I became a Jew on April 18, 2006. However, I began living as a Jew long before that.
When you convert to Judaism you must commit yourself to a great deal of reading, studying and attendance of classes. Furthermore, you promise to begin living life as a Jew immediately. If you are converting Orthodox, you pledge to keep Kosher and obey all 613 commandments or "Mitzvot" in the bible. As a Conservative Jew the rules are slightly less strict and converting into the Reform branch of Judaism gives the greatest amount of leeway. Very few Reform Jews observe the laws of Kashrut (keeping Kosher).
I decided rather early in my conversion process that I would not keep Kosher. While I could observe most of the dietary restrictions, I looked at my life and thought that it would be a logistical nightmare! I was renting and could not afford to separate my meats and dairy, nor did I have the room to keep two sets of plates and flatware. I have learned that there are ways to do it without too much upheaval and I have plenty of Orthodox friends who seem to manage just fine.
I must admit -- of all the things I must and must not do since becoming a Jew -- the keeping Kosher thing nags at me the most. In fact, I think about being an Orthodox Jew all the time. Much to the dismay of my Hazzan and Jewish friends!

I used to live in a small enclave of Maryland with many Orthodox Jews. There was an Orthodox synagogue just a few blocks away and so many families purchased homes in my neighborhood in order to obey the commandments and walk to shul on the sabbath. I saw these families -- dressed in their modest clothing and black hats -- walking back and forth each Saturday. I find their devotion so inspiring.
I have longed since I was a child to marry and have a family but found it a lot harder to actually accomplish. I can't help but to think that since it is highly encouraged in the Jewish faith that everyone marry and procreate, I could finally find a husband and settle down if I were to devote myself to the stricter denomination.

There is a deeper issue of being a "Bad Jew" by not keeping Kosher or strictly observing all 613 Mitzvot. In a way, I feel as though I am a meat-eating vegetarian. I'm afraid that I have never truly committed to the Jewish faith. The worst part is, I know that I wouldn't feel this way if I had been born a Jew.
Converts are treated with the utmost respect in Judaism. However, among the different denominations, there is a great deal of dischord where converts are concerned. In fact, according to the Orthodox, I am NOT a Jew at all. I will only be Jewish when I convert under the close scrutiny of an Orthodox rabbi, commit to keep Kosher and keep all 613 mitzvot -- no matter how difficult that would be in this century. (Hello? Animal sacrifice? I think not!) Because mine was a reform conversion, I am not a suitable marriage partner to Orthodox or even many Conservative Jews! I even have to wonder if my right to return to Israel will be honored, should I decide to go to the Homeland.

Like the decision to convert itself, I believe I will just have to live with the idea of keeping Kosher or being Orthodox in my head and let it marinate a while. As with everything else in this life, I will find my way.