Thursday, January 29, 2009

um, awkward....

either i am extremely hyper-observant to the oddities that exist around me or i am a magnent for weird and awkward shit.

i think it's the latter.

i'm on the plane, flying back from LA and i am seated next to a hasidic jewish family. a hasidic jewish family with a small (albeit UBER cute) baby. an the entire non-parishable, kosher section of whole foods with them.

and the woman is breastfeeding her kid. as i sit here typing.

and i literally have no where to look. i mean, i'm on an airplane. it's dark. she's got the light RIGHT on her.

it's just a little awkward.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

so what if i want an african baby?!

since my friend's (possibly ex) boyfriend just so happens to be 37 and the father of the world's most sophisticated 5 year old, we also got to talking about the idea of one day having children. who can't commit. amazingly enough, this little after work meetup barely even lasted an hour. talk about diving in head first..dr. phil's got nothing on our happy hours, apparently.

children. she wants them, i run from them.
and she suspects that a friend of hers might be trying to get pregnant. this friend also happens to be 37 and just recently revealed that she has cut back her nightly drinking from 1 bottle to 1 glass of vino.

apparently if you don't date, you're a lesbian. and if you cut back on your drinking, you're trying to get pregnant.

this segwayed into a brief history of how when my friend first stating dating her boyfriend that he adamantly did not want to have any more kids, and did not want to get remarried. now, a year and a half later, he's open to the idea of children and open to the idea of one day possibly getting remarried. but he's still not open to a roommate.

well, 2 out of 3 ain't bad. unless you can't pay your rent and you're about to become homeless in 3 months.

my friend wants kids "some day". she's only 25, but she's convinced that "some day" is actually quite soon.
i'm convinced she's been hanging around with 37 year-olds too long.

so, amongst other things, we got to talking about children. having them. wanting them. she checked all the "yes" boxes...i checked all the "oh hell no's".

i've seen one too many "baby stories" in my life (thanks TLC) to know that there is absolutely no way in hell this body of mine will EVER be squeezing out a watermelon. not now. not ever. even if i could pull a britney and schedule a c-section, it's still not a pretty process.

c-section? they'll at least numb you, but you're still awake while they set your organs on your chest. and then you can't work out for like 3 months after because you're recovering from major surgery.

natural birth? they'll still numb you, but not until you're damn near ready to deliver the baby yourself mcgyver style with a butter knife. and even then...i've heard the stories. no thanks.

i do find the prospect of growing old alone somewhat heartbreaking and lonely. i'll admit it. given my current dryspell, that prospect is quite alarmingly realistic. and with the economy in its current downward spiral, a 401k isn't exactly the safest retirement plan.

that said, should i be approaching 40 one day, alone, i would not be opposed to pulling a sheryl (as in crow) and adopting myself a small african baby. why not adopt a child from a state of poverty to give them a better life?

even if i do meet someone someday and we decide to start a family, i still prefer adoption. the world is far too crazy and too unstable to bring someone else in to. over population aside, i think it's far more humane to adopt. it's like wanting a puppy, and paying thousands of dollars for a purebread instead of going to the local shelter to rescue a stray.

(my two cats are rescues. my mom's dog is a rescue. my friend's mom has dogs too...purebred cockapoos.)

and besides. african babies ARE the new "it" bag. maybe it's just time my friend got a bit more aware of the trends?

at least my mom thinks i'm normal.

i shared the lesbian comment with my mom in my bi-weekly saturday morning email rant.
she doesn't know about my blog and can't comment herself, so i thought i'd take the liberty to post it for her:

forgot to give you my two cents about this lesbian thing. First of all, that was a crummy thing to say. Just because she has a boyfriend who it sounds like might not be all that "in" to her if he doesn't want her moving in with him doesn't mean you have to have one. I'm proud of you for not grabbing on to any Tom Dick and Harry that comes around. There is someone out there for you and one day you'll find him. It might take awhile (look at Brad) but it's better to be alone and happy versus being married or in a relationship and unhappy. Stick with animals for now although I'm ready to give mine away since she left a big wet spot on the carpeting while I was at the tanner. Maybe I'm turning into a lesbian too since I'm not hooked up with someone. What a ridiculous statement!

brad is my cousin who happens to be in his mid-thirties and single. the animal that just wet the carpeting is my mom's beagle-spaniel dog with an attitude problem "ruby".

and my mom also, does not date.

to her defense, she lives in northern michigan, doesn't wear camo, and hates to hunt. which pretty much limits her options in the man-market.

theories on dating.

or rather not dating.

last night i met a friend for drinks after work at a bar of her choosing.

she's having man-troubles.
a quick summary--she's 25, dating a 37 divorcee from morocco. she can't afford to pay her rent, he's not ready for her to move in. she thinks he can solve her problems, he thinks she should solve them herself.

and somewhere in between her deciding that the key to her manhattan survival was to get a 2 bedroom apartment with her ex and her sullen discovery she might not have the patience to wait for her current BF to pack up all his baggage and make space for her in his 1 bedroom brooklyn abode, she quasi expressed concern that she thought i might have turned lesbian.

because i don't date.

(insert record scratch and abrupt stop of music--->here.)

whoa. wait. hang on.

i don't have a boyfriend, i don't take home random guys from the bar, and i haven't found any one with a penis worthy of a second date in over three years and now i'm a LESBIAN???

how the hell did this happen? and if a close friend of mine's starting to wonder, what the hell is my family starting to think?!

on top of that, two weeks ago, another friend of mine (and the only one who reads my blog) recommended i read "calling the one". a book about using the laws of attraction to call love into your life.

no offense amanda, but i literally couldn't even pick up the book at barnes and noble with out cringing...and once i read the back cover i had to immediately leave the self-help section because my dry heaving was warranting strange looks from the guy next to me.

i DO have love in my life. walk into my apartment and it's like Lord of the Flies, cat-style. currently, one has actually vaccated my lap and another has taken its place. i have friends, i have family...but i have a career.

i got sick of the whole bar-dating-random sex thing in college. i hit an all-time low during the first semester of my fifth year. all my friends had left, my heart was broken, and i became a raging, slutty alcoholic. i managed to block quite a bit of this previous life from my memory, but recently for some reason it's been coming back to me in bits and pieces. just last week my mind was wandering and i had a flashback of getting really wasted, having sex on the way home from the bar in some bushes, and waking up the next morning bruised and missing my cell phone.

at the end of the semester, my self esteem was at an all time low, all my drinking had resulted in a 10 lb weight gain (think britney pre-ER), and i became decidedly over it. i began to focus on me. making ME feel better, and finding ME a killer job post-graduation. ME. ME. ME.

when i finally graduated that may, i pulled a nicole richie, lost more than the 10 lbs i had gained, lost the slutty rockstar persona, and had a job offer in connecticut.

since then, i've moved around so much that it just wasn't practical for me to try and date. in connecticut, i just wasn't ready. i didn't know anybody, and my trust issues didn't allow me to even entertain the idea of dating somebody and getting wrapped up in his world instead of figuring out mine first. in ohio, i didn't date because God forbid i'd fall in love and get stuck...never able to leave.

and now, in new york, i watch the news WAY too much and don't really feel like ending up sunday morning's headline because i decided to take home the hot guy from the bar.

i've also been through a lot. i've moved on my own, struggled on my own, and i've gotten where i've gotten because i've worked really damn hard to get it. and quite frankly, i think that whoever is lucky enough to make it to round two better be pretty damn great. i'm all about the whole "you have to kiss a lot of frogs" philosophy, as in, not every guy you meet is going to be prince charming, but does that really mean i've got to kiss them?

why the hell put myself through the misery of round 2 if we all know it's just not going to work out? can't i just be alone rather than attempt to date my old college neighbor who not only appears to be a closet alcoholic but also has some severe emotional issues to work through JUST because he's made it fairly apparent that he'd love to sleep with me?

since when does having standards mean that i'm a lesbian?

Tuesday, January 6, 2009 crazy alert.

i'm not proud to admit this, but i've been on for about 7 months now. i paid for 6 and obviously since i have not met my match, was granted 6 more for free.

oh really...they shouldn't have.

anyway, in the past 7 months i've gotten quite a few crazy messages.
one of the things i'm looking for in my match is a great pair of vintage levi's. this is merely a metaphor, however, most have chosen to take it literally, messaging me with original one liners such as "hey there, i don't have levi's, but how about a pair of great italian diesels?" as if i'm supposed to be impressed because they referenced italian (the ill-educated man's assumption that only italy can do menswear) and deisel (italian brand that used to be the go-to for amazing jeans...before seven for all mankind made $200 denim accessible to the masses).

on my profile, i also have it listed that i do NOT want to have kids. again...i'm 26 (going to be 27) years old. part of this desire to not have children is out of sheer vanity (i have no desire to get fat and saggy...especially since i can't afford a personal trainer and do not have the space for a pilates reformer in my ridiculously tiny albeit cute manhattan living room) part of it is out of sheer selfishness (had i had any spare change lying around i would much rather be contributing to the 'buy katie a mui mui fund' instead of the 'send little timmy to an ivy league foundation') but the majority of it is the simple fact that the world is filled with crazies and i couldn't with clean conscience bring an innocent person into the craziness. i would be filled sick with worry day in and day out and would most likely give up sleeping for fear that if i closed my eyes or let timmy out of the house for a second something terrible and traumatic would most likely occur.

that said, if i did some day meet the man of my dreams or my 401k should not prove sufficient and i need a more solid retirement plan i would not be opposed to pulling a brangelina and adopting a small chocolate child from africa.

apparently felt a bit more strongly than i as i got THIS in my inbox sunday morning:

Finally!! A female that does NOT have or necessarily want kids. Yahoo! You are a very unique female, and I mean that in a true complimentary sense. :)I just signed up on Match, but to be honest, I think I'm going to cancel within the first 3 days. Why? Because as feared, there simply aren't enough CHILDFREE women on here. Indeed, I've had soooooooo much trouble trying to find somebody that does NOT have or want kids, I even created my own 100% free KIDFREE / CHILDFREE dating site:IdoNOTwantKids ( dot ) c-o-m. I'm letting you know upfront about my site to evidence that I am sincere and not wasting your time. Feel free to create a profile on my site if you want. Heck, you never know who you might find! Anyway, if you are interested in perhaps meeting for a friendly cup of coffee in a totally public place, please get back in touch with me. The best way to reach me is via my website. Likewise, to show you I am NOT playing games like the vast majority of people online or that this is not some bogus baloney spam message, you can also visit my personal website which is my last name: PUZZELE ( dot ) c-o-m. It will tell you LOTS more about me. My email is: IdoNOTwantKids (at) gmail (dot) c-o-m. Hopefully I will hear from you. However, I would not waste your time responding to me here on Match since I'm probably just going to cancel my membership and not be able to read your message.Best regards and I hope to hear from you,Christopher M. Puzzele, Esq.

i really don't know how to even respond to this one. other than that for crazies...he takes the cake.

and the fact that he's from jersey...doesn't really come as a surprise.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

one year later.

here i year later. another january. another looming birthday.
another attempt at blogging.

i blame my post-holiday depression and the 25 degree windchill for my sudden state of self-reflection...but deep down i think it's because therapy is annoying and my free sessions are about to run out.

this is my 5th attempt at blogging, excluding my brief stint on myspace. there's nothing revolutionary about yet another 20-something single girl blogging about the trials and tribulations of being such. however, i'm going to try and stick with this and while i blog i plan on being painfully honest. if it's in my head, it's going to end up here.

i've had several friends tell me that i should blog...i've had several friends try and even request that i blog. now that i'm blogging, i'm not quite sure i'm going to tell anyone about it. (re: this will be painfully honest).

a lot has happened since my last blog one year ago. i've turned the dreaded 2-6 and the world has not ended (although on several occassions i thought it might...particulary one sunday morning after WAY too much champagne one saturday night). i've taken a new job and moved to new york city. i've adopted another cat (in an attempt to provide a playmate for my first cat...who is currently biting my feet while i type...looks like that worked out exactly to plan). and i've joined

most people wait until january 1st to revamp their life. i apparently do it whenever i move to a new city. i thought packing my weeknights with lame dates off would not only make me feel a hell of a lot better about being single but would also make me feel a hell of a lot less of a loser come monday mornings when my coworkers are talking about crazy parties and weekends at the beach. i'm still on match....but i'm fairly inactive. too many balding 40 year olds left me feeling slightly skeeved out. but that's a whole 'nother blog post.

so here i a geographically new location, but in a fairly similar emotional state to where i was 1 year prior. when i first moved to the city, i decided it was time to get this on track. i was proud of where i'd landed in my career, but i felt it was time to do something about the nagging depression and emotional hole in my chest i'd been feeling for quite sometime. the masochistic membership wasn't making me feel any better about myself (just worse about the male already negative opinion not really in need of any more encouragement) and the fact that the only thing i had going for me was a meticulous style and successful career was expediting the loneliness i was already beginning to feel after relocating to one of the biggest and loneliness cities in the world.

i wasn't in danger of jumping out windows any time soon, but i would be lying if i didn't wonder what would happen if i just "accidentally" got nipped by a bus.

first of all...the job i'd accepted under the pretense that it'd be a lot less stressful than my old one turned out to be a complete mess. within the first week i was thrown into a complete dissarray of disfunctionality. my boss turned out to be a bipolar alcoholic...there was no order...only chaos. i turned out the be the only full time designer as the other two had just quit. one was already out...and the other, who was supposed to be training me for the next two weeks had to suddenly leave due to a family emergency. all that was left was me...and i'd had a LOT to sort out.

sorting out said new job along with sorting out a new life in one of the largest cities in the world did not make for the smooth and easy transition i had pictured for myself.

and on top of all that, i decided the skurves was lonely too...and adopted him a friend. which lead to two at-home vet vists, one emergency room visit, and almost $500 on a brand new credit card to find out that he was just unhappy sharing a litter box.

so to cope with the stress and the craziness, i figured it wouldn't hurt if i finally sought some therapy. i got 10 visits free through work, and it was something i probably should've done a long time ago. i know what's wrong with me. it's just talking about what's wrong that i struggle with. also, it's hard to confide in other 20-something friends when they're struggling with similar issues and all of a sudden this intimate confession turns into some sort of competition between who has it worse. " think THAT'S bad? my boss told me today that we aren't allowed any vacation days...INCLUDING christmas because she's jewish! at least yours is just an alcoholic!"

so i went to the therapist. i cried. i confided. i cried some more. and then i became annoyed. i already knew the root of my problems. i didn't want to talk. i wanted to know how to deal with it and get over it.

(since i'm being painfully honest, here's a quick summary:
-my dad is a clueless narcissistic workaholic who left when i was 12 and yet i still crave his approval.
-i have extreme trust issues.
-i think i'm fat. even though i'm probably 10 pounds underweight.
-i'm lonely. i love and miss my mom so much at times it is painful.
-i have mild self-diagnosed exercise bulimia because i crave the stability of waking every morning before work for a 7 am spin class.
-i struggle to find self-worth.)

so here i am. me and the blog. the free therapy sessions have run out (and honestly even if they hadn't i probably wouldn't have continued) and i've decided this will be much more effective anyway. it's not all going to be doom and gloom...i promise. it's simply going to be all about me, and the way i see the world as a casual observer from the sidelines.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

yoga sundays and a life of routine

today is known in my world as "yoga sunday". whenever anyone asks me what i'm doing over the weekend my response is easy: "well...probably get some groceries...maybe do a bit of shopping on saturday, then yoga on sunday... i'll even go so far as to try and convince people to meet for drinks on friday rather than risk going out saturday and waking up sunday groggy, tired, or worse..hungover. i've actually become so addicted to this yoga class i had vacation days to use up and i actually scheduled them around it.

but that's another blog, on another day.

today i'm feeling a bit "grandma" because i'm such a creature of habit. and i'm really hoping i'm not alone...otherwise i'll just feel like more of a loser. which is fine...because while i like to think of myself as a rockstar...i know rockstars don't stay in on a saturday night making split pea soup and watching "miss america" on tlc...(which, side note, still sucked. re-vamped my ass. it was still lame. although "miss michigan" did take the at least michigan will finally be known as something more than "the state with the worst economy in the u.s." or, as it's referred to here in the draining pool of the midwest: "the state in which the devil was born" but that too, is a whole 'nother blog.)

i seriously thrive on routine. monday through friday i plan everything. my workouts, meals, tv's all planned out, schedule-style in my head. lord help me if i ever get truly organized or work my way up to blackberry-status at my company...i'd probably become so schedule/meeting happy i'd self-implode.

did i mention i even like to schedule my weekends?
take this weekend for example. it was wide open until friday morning...and then it became:

friday night: invite friend over, get indian food, watch sex and the city w/ bottle of wine.
saturday: meet friends at 11 am. get lunch at noon. go get new cell phone and ingredients for split pea soup. make split pea soup and watch miss america.
sunday: yoga at 10 am!!!! (i even set an alarm on sundays--8 am...gotta make sure my oatmeal can digest before my practice). meet friend to do shopping at sam's club. maybe clean.

my only diversion was yesterday. i found fresh, cored pineapple at the grocery store so i decided to do a bit of dehydrating as well.

is this the life of a 25 year old? i know it's damn near freezing out right now, so i try to pretend that's the real reason i'm such a loser. but in all honesty, even when it's the middle of july my life is equally as uneventful.
aren't these years supposed to be the time of my life?? shouldn't i be out partying all night long? bringing home random strangers? shouldn't i be living the life of sex and the city rather than watching old seasons on dvd in my sweatpants with a cat on my lap?

i feel as though i'm living the life of a married couple...minus the couple.

my life has become so routine, even my cat knows it. every morning, weekday or weekend, this is how it goes:
i wake up, throw on some sweats (if it's a weekday, i'll either go to the gym or do some yoga first) and stumble into the kitchen. usually i actually trip a couple of times because my cat is weaving figure eights in between my legs. i then satisfy his desperate hunger by feeding him and giving him a couple of these whiskas treats he goes all ape over. quick clean of the litter box, and he's happy. then i move on to my breakfast. always oatmeal. if it's a weekday, i literally time my oatmeal cooking w/ my lunch making (i always bring my lunch...i don't have patience or the bank balance to buy it at work every day). i eat so much oatmeal (every day for the past 3 joke. unless it's too hot and i have cereal instead....which is rare) i even have the preparation down to a science. i vary the fruit based on my mood and season (crazy!) but the preparation never's my classic recipe:

1/2 cup whole rolled oats (not the quick cook kind...or the disgusting quaker oatmeal oats)
1 tbsp ground flax
little bit of ginger/little bit of cinnamon...depending on the fruit
milk/water combo...enough so that the oatmeal is swimming
--microwave on high for 2 min. 27 seconds--

while this is cooking i do one of the following:
make sandwich for lunch (monday-friday)
cut up grapefruit (if in season)
cut up apple for snack (monday-friday)
fix cup of tea

when the oatmeal is done cooking i add:
1/2 scoop vanilla protein powder
tiny bit more water
fruit of choice (unless it's an apple...then i add that at the needs the cook time to soften)
--microwave on high for 1 min. 7 seconds--

while my oatmeal finishes i usually take a multitude of pills that include a mulitvitamin, ginger, and other herbal remedies i happened to read about that week.

once my oatmeal is done, i give it a quick stir, grab my tea and head into the living room. i then watch the "today show" while eating my breakfast.
let me interject here that i don't even like the today show. i loathe it, actually. i can't stand meredith, although she's better than matt (don't get me started about matt). i don't mind al so much, but i can't handle the part when he's doing his weather report and then passes it over to the local guy, and every day it goes:
al: "and let's see what's going on in your neck of the woods"
local guy: "well al, in our neck of the woods, it's going to be cold."
every. day. like they're old friends and this is their own person little sign-off.
and yet i still watch. i don't know why, but i do.
and i sit in the same corner as always, indian-style. because as soon as i sit down, my cat jumps up and starts to get comfortable. he usually turns around several times, hits me in the face with his tale, sniffs my oatmeal, and then stares at me, until i lose patience, tuck him under my elbow and start eating. 9 times out of 10 he'll squirm his way out, sit back up, and stick his face in my bowl.
this happens every morning.
on the weekends, he'll settle in for a while...during the week i kick him off after a five minute siesta.

i've become so encompassed by routine in my life that i literally require a good three hour advance notice should any of my friends wish to meet up for drinks/dinner on the weekends. because by 5 o'clock i've already planned out my dinner, my evening, and (usually) my bedtime. i always have a cup of low-carb hot chocolate before i go to bed. i find it unbelievably comforting. but once i have this cup of hot chocolate...whether it be 7 o'clock or 10 o'clock, i'm in for the night. heaven forbid someone calls after the ceremonious cup of hot chocolate. because the answer will always be "no".

this really can't be normal.

but i'm not like o.c.d. or anything extreme like that. i don't wander around my apartment turning lights on and off 27 times. although i do check to make sure that my flat iron is unplugged before i leave the house every day. but that's more because i'm terrified that i'll down my house.

i just don't understand why i've come to find such comfort in my ritualistic lifestyle. ironically, if i were to fill out one of those "about me" sections on a dating website (not that i haven't done that before) i'd mention how much i love to be spontaneous. how i love to take random trips to nowhere on a whim. because the truth is, i hate the routine. i hate mundane, unadventurous lifestyles. i feel suffocated and become seriously depressed when i'm faced with the same thing day in, day out. i love to travel and to try new things. the last time i've left the midwest was for work about two months ago...and i'm itching to get out again. so much so that i feel as though i'm crawling in my skin just for a trip anywhere. hell, i almost drove a half hour to the nearest steve and barry's yesterday to go check out bitten's spring line...just for something to do.

i'd love to live a nomadic lifestyle. traveling from place to place, learning new cultures, trying new foods. but i know it'd drive me nuts! i'd get so fed up with all the effort and the shlepping. i'd like to think i'd last longer than a week, but i know that'd be my limit. i'd get grumpy. i'd miss my workouts. i'd start to crave random things like a bowl of oatmeal and a turkey sandwich. i got stuck in hong kong for work last summer for a week and a half. when i got into the u.s. i almost hugged the customs agent. if the hotel didn't have a gym and a starbucks, i don't think i would've survived.