Dark Highway

Do you ever think about continuing to drive and never stopping?

Sometimes, especially on nights like tonight, I just want to drive until I leave my life behind me. I know I will never do it, but sometimes I wish I could. I get this sensation that my life is a burden that is crushing me and I don't know how to escape the feeling. I feel like I'm oppressed by my own choices and I don't know how to change them. I wish I could say "screw it all!" and not care about anyone but myself, but of course I can't do that.

Who does that? Terrible people. I've got enough moral ambiguity in my life that I don't need to add "family abandoner" to the top of that list. And really, do I want to RUN AWAY from my life? No, not really. But I do wish that I knew what it was about driving along on a dark highway that makes me want to keep going until I don't know who I am anymore.

Do you believe in karma?

Do you think that karma exists? Is there really a supernatural or cosmic balancing scale that evens out the good and bad choices we make in life?

I really don't know about karma, but it certainly feels like it exists sometimes. Though, overall, I think there are too many examples of too many evil people getting away with their crimes their entire lives to believe in it. Yet, I suppose if I was getting on-board with karma, those evil doers would come back as cockroaches and get their just returns in their next life.

Anyway, this post really isn't about whether I believe in karma. It's more about my going through a time of comeuppance lately. I made some very selfish decisions last year from July to December and in December I was called out on my self-serving ways by a person who is no longer my friend. It was fair on her part to ditch me. I don't begrudge her anything. I do miss being friends with her and I wish I had never hurt her more than anything.

I have always recognized that I'm a self-centered person and a judgmental one too. I want people to agree with me and I can be pretty harsh toward people who don't view the world the same way I do. It's strange. Some things I know I see as too black and white when I should see a spectrum from one to the other. Then other things I see too many shades of gray where there should only be two colors and a clear line between them. I think the stress I'm going through lately is what I deserve for the choices I made. And the worst part is that I don't regret ALL of my choices, even though I should, I only regret the choice I was called out on. Well, and one other one. But that was more out of embarrassment for being an idiot than anything else.

What does that say about me if I can live with myself like this? I think it says that I'm selfish and I don't always feel guilty when I make certain types of choices. I made three bad decisions last year and even though they were equally self serving, I would only take back two of them. Wow. It's weird to admit that to myself even.

Here's what I'm trying to take away from last year in combination with how I've been feeling lately... It's not worth it to be selfish. I need to realize that it's not fair to the people who you love and care about to choose to act based on what you want and not based on what the right thing is. This well-deserved "karma" I'm dealing with is just a reminder that I really do need to make better choices.

Besides, next time my karma might be a lot worse than feeling stressed...

What do I say?

I couldn't figure out how to start this post. I'm honestly not sure what to say. My life is just too complicated these days to put the whole thing into words.

First, someone I've gotten to know very well since the summer, someone who's almost become one of my best friends, isn't speaking to me. He has his own crap going on in his life, so I can't be selfish and get mad at him, but it hurts my feelings. I feel abandoned and that makes it harder to accept that I shouldn't be "selfish". If that even makes sense. I know that what he is going through it much worse than my petty issues, but despite that, I can't make myself FEEL better about the situation.

Second, someone else I thought was a friend, not as close of a friend, but a friend none-the-less, is treating me badly. I feel like sometimes I want people to like me, which is something everyone does, so I allow them to treat me in a way that's hurtful. I put myself in this situation, I chose it. I realize that. I don't know why I do this to myself though. That's the real question of the day.

Why do I allow certain friends to be awful to me? It only hurts me in the long run. It doesn't build my self esteem or make me into a better person. It just brings me down and confuses me. And it's unhealthy.

I wish I knew how to change the way that I act. I wish that I could figure out how to stop being the way that I am and actually become a better person. I wish I wasn't stuck in my own self generated cycle of pain. I wish I knew what to say.

Holy Fuck

Holy fuck. Do you ever have a day when everything you thought you knew crashed around you like a burning ship? Yes. That was my day. And you know what? I created the fucking flammable ship in the first place. I carefully constructed it out of dreams and hopes without any wood or nails to hold it together. And you know what? Those dreams and hopes burned faster than the driest, frailest wood. I would have been better off to build it out of nylon. Goddamn.

I'm so stupid. That's what I am. Everything has changed. There's no going back. And you know why? Because I'm so stupid. God I am like a big bumbling idiot. Blundering along hoping for the best only to be confronted with an unexpected worst. Literally, I could not have anticipated this if it slapped me in the face and called me its bitch.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH. Holy fuck. Fuck my life.

Why do it?

Here's a question. When you decide to do something, anything, why do you decide to do it?

I believe that this is an essential question that we have to ask ourselves in order to maintain a semblance of control on our own lives. If we never ask why then we must be pulled along by influences greater than ourselves.

Why should I have children? Why should I get married? Why should I take this job? Why should I love someone more than another?

The questions are endless. There are a million directions between here and tomorrow and yet life expects you to start somewhere. Anywhere. Sometimes it feels like I'm just moving along day by day without knowing what brought me to this place. I wonder if I asked myself why enough. Or if I did ask myself, did I really want to know the answer...

I don't know if I want to know the whys about myself some days. I feel like I won't like the answers. I realized lately that I've lost all sense of a moral compass. Ever since I stopped believing in Christian faith I stopped connecting to a greater moral order. I honestly never realized how lost I felt, from an ethical standpoint, until recently when I started asking myself "why am I doing X thing?" And I realized that I have lost my belief structure, which has left me floundering, trying to decide what the right decisions are.

Is it easier just to believe in something, a higher power, a religious organization, in order to give your life structure? To answer the why? Or does it mean that you aren't strong enough to make decisions based on your intellect and experience? To base them on what you've personally experienced and can grasp?

I can't go back to what I grew up in, but I need to find something to hold onto. I suppose I will just have to keep asking myself why before I make decisions and hope I decide for the right reasons.

Melancholy

I've been laboring under a cloud of melancholy lately.

I don't know what has brought it on, but I feel this listlessness that is consuming my emotions. I don't feel depressed. No. This is more along the lines of boredom, actually. I feel like I'm searching for a way to evoke strong emotions. As if my emotional state of being needs a jump start. Maybe my battery ran out?

You know what I've been doing? I've been drawn to dark war films, listening to sad music. It's pathetic really. I sat alone and watched Full Metal Jacket and Black Hawk Down back-to-back! So ridiculous... What do I think that I'm going to find there? Some kind of emotional salve for my weary soul? Even those questions are so melodramatic that I can't believe I just typed them.

What's more is that it's most frustrating not knowing quite how to root out the source of this feeling. Why am I feeling this way? I've actually taken on several more responsibilities, ones that I enjoy and find stimulating, at work. I am competing for a special award at work. I've got my very first triathlon (yay me!) this weekend. Really, if anything, I should be feeling energized and excited. But I'm not.

Partly, my romantic life has been impacting me. I know that I've been feeling emotionally lethargic in my marriage lately, and definitely sexually frustrated, so that doesn't help. I want to connect with my husband, but I'm realizing that we have a definite lack of similarity in our emotional complexity. He's just so unable to express himself and oftentimes unwilling to even try that I feel like "what's the point?" I definitely feel myself getting pulled in directions that I shouldn't be, but I can't find an anchor in our relationship to hang onto. I remember feeling so passionate about him the first year we were together, and it's like I'm a different person now. Not him. Me. I feel differently about him even though he really hasn't changed at all.

And yet... Something else is missing. I'm searching for something, but it seems I'm wandering in a shopping complex at Christmas without even knowing for whom I'm buying the gift. And since I have no idea, I wander aimlessly, accomplishing nothing, gaining nothing.

I'm just ready to move on and break out of this melancholy.

Getting the most out of a life

What does it mean to "get the most out of life"?

I would genuinely like to know the answer to this question. I think about it all the time lately and it only makes me more unsure of what fulfillment is. It seems that "fulfillment" is really the key idea here - if you get the MOST you can from life, then you have found fulfillment. Or I suppose you've at least found a reason to live that makes you feel like you have a purpose. Though, is having a purpose the same as being fulfilled?

So, maybe the key is more than being fulfilled. Maybe it's having a sense of WHY you live to go hand in hand with the WHAT you live for... Maybe you feel fulfilled when you have a purpose in life? In that case, what if your life's purpose is compromised or you're betrayed by those who helped cultivate that very purpose?

For example, what if you're a woman for whom being a great mom and a devoted wife is your number one purpose for living (this lifestyle would work for ME, but it works for some women, my mother included) and then your husband cheats? He has betrayed you and your children. Now do you feel like you were living for a lie? I think that some women would be devastated by such an action, but other women would cling to the idea that being a mother is valuable enough that their husbands' infidelities would not supersede their purpose.

Now, another example, say you've worked your entire life for a company only to get to the top and find corruption, greed, and/or illegal acts... How would you feel knowing that your life's work contributed to the success of an inherently immoral corporation? I think this would depend on the extent of the corruption (just the CEO or the whole executive team) the affects of the corruption (padding expense accounts vs. distributing medications with undisclosed and deadly side effects) and of course, your own ethical beliefs.

Regardless, I want to know what makes life worthwhile because I DESIRE a life lived to the fullest extent. I hate the idea of waking up in 10, 15, or 20 years and saying, "where did my passion go?" or "when did I leave all my dreams behind?" I just can't live knowing that is going to be the outcome. It makes me feel ill to think of living in a suburban home with a white picket fence and an extra 30 pound of "baby weight". Ugh. What a nightmare.

Then, I have to weigh my husband's desires. He's so very all-American. He totally wants to go off to his successful and fulfilling job and come home to his beautifully maintained home with a kid or two and the dog waiting for him by the door. Now, he knows that I want to live and work internationally, which he says he is open to doing, but at the same time, he talks about these other (more traditional) desires. I realize now that I was too quick to get married. I love him but at the same time I'm having a harder and harder time understanding how we're going to make our lives work together without one person making massive, soul-crushing compromises. I thought that I would want the things he wants, but the more I get into my new career, the less those things appeal to me.

Of course, I would never leave him, but I can see myself allowing him to leave me if he can't accept what I want anymore. I feel like it might happen in the next five to seven years and it will be about children. Honestly, I can't bear the idea of being pregnant. There is not one iota of my personality that wants to be a mother. I feel a little ill and disoriented thinking about having a fetus (eek!) growing in my uterus. He knows that I'm really weird about kids, but I know he doesn't think I'm never going to want kids. I used to assume that I would eventually get a big dose of hormones and get baby fever, but now I'm just not sure. I'm in my mid-twenties and I don't want kids just as much as I didn't want them in my early-twenties... And this is exactly why I think he might not be able to handle it down the road.

Who knows though. Maybe I will get the baby fever. Maybe I will want to live in the States. Maybe I will want to coordinate car pool schedules. Maybe those things will make me feel fulfilled.

But in the end, at the core, my instincts tell me that I will need something more to get the most out of life...

Why I don't wear diamonds

There is something about watching a film that highlights the suffering of others. Something that pulls on my heart and makes me wonder - what in fuck am I doing with my life? Something almost visceral in the images as they flash forth and burn themselves into my gray matter and make me realize how hard it is to truly be involved in alleviating the world's suffering. Something that seems so tangible in the moment and yet so fleeting in the large scope.

Maybe that's why I've never done anything in my life except not wear diamonds.

There are many things about which I care, sometimes even enough to argue over, but not as many things about which I make a firm stance as diamonds. You can only avoid so many human tragedies in an American life - child labor that makes your clothes cheap, forced labor that brings the raw materials for your computer, destruction of the rain forests that gives you a caffeine buzz at your local cafe, and so many more. Regardless, I've decided not to be involved in the purchase of diamonds. Yes, I realize that there are plenty of diamonds that are not conflict stones, plenty that supply decent, hard-working Canadians mine and sell, but the point is that every woman or man who decides to purchase a diamond perpetuates the industry. Every. Single. One. When that girl shows off her diamond engagement ring to her girlfriends, she is showing them something they think they want. Because they want it, their boyfriends will buy them and present them in a romantic setting as if that shiny rock bodes well for their future together.

And somewhere between the earth and their sparkly future together, some of those stones financed child soldiers and mercenaries and death. And despite all my failings as an American consumer, I have chosen not to participate in that cycle. There is a part of me that is simply unwilling to put such a morbid symbol on my hand to signify a lifetime of partnership and love. And that's simply why, of all things, I don't wear diamonds.

I have suddenly turned into Miss Manners...

Oh. My. God. My boyfriend has bad table manners!

Now, I am aware that I'm not perfect, I know that standards are lax now-a-days, and that my parents were stricter than most people's, but still... AH!

So, we go out to a nice dinner for his birthday. Here is my list of issues:

1.) His navy blue undershirt did NOT match his green polo (ok, I know this isn't manners, but annoying all the same)

2.) Elbows on the table while eating

3.) Talking with food in mouth

4.) Clicking his teeth on his fork when he takes a bite!

I was so irritated that I could barely look at him and then I felt super bad because it was his birthday and all I wanted to do was scream, “For God Sakes Man, Get Your Elbows Off the Table and Keep Your Mouth SHUT!”

Plus, I have a problem with compulsively biting my nails, which I have never figured was THAT big of a deal... Well, he does it too and I am so grossed out when I see him do it that I realize how AWFUL I must look. Must cease and desist immediately.

Friendship is a funny thing...

Well, I have not written in a while, but here I go again… I have officially gone overboard regarding the ex-boyfriend-artist and am writing yet an(other) blog about it. I guess, as usual, I'm over thinking and thus emoting (via the cold, heartless medium of the web)

I know that things got a bit out-of-line between us last year (an emotional affair is, after all, generally considered worse than a physical one) and that that could be why he has scaled back on our friendship (he stopped talking to me, yet again, when I left for Europe)

or it could be that I have a boyfriend

or that he got tired of my friendship

or that he felt awkward

And this is what has always been so odd for me in regards to his and my interactions over the past 3 and 1/2 years (I'm counting that as since the first time that we broke up, ha). It drives me INSANE that there is hardly ever a good answer for why he stops talking to me or why he doesn’t respond for months and then suddenly changes his mind. And while I appreciate (and frankly, admire) his ability to drop off the face of the Earth, it still sits uncomfortably with me (aka makes me go slightly crazy thinking it over, sigh).

It's just that I'm such a different type of communicator... I can’t just stop talking to someone. It’s nearly impossible. I go on and on and on and babble and explain and meander through ideas, but in the end, when he pulls back, it's a mystery. Now, it’s not like I’m asking for some deep, spiritual insight into the inner-workings of his "am I talking to her or not" psyche, but it IS a little over-the-top. And yes, I know that his whole ‘artist’ persona is over-the-top so to speak, but after finally watching 'Vicky Christina Barcelona' combined with several experiences of late, I have decided that I just don't care.

Here's what I know - I thoroughly enjoy being in conversation with him, I find him stimulating and intriguing, I know that he and I both need to be with someone OTHER than each other, and I miss it when he’s not somewhere in the framework of my life.

Is that so wrong?

Here is my thought... We're both in relationships, which is great. Can’t we still be friends and have interesting, thought-provoking conversations without straying into dangerous territory?! If however, he is tired of my friendship and doesn’t find me interesting at this time, I will have to just accept that.

I guess that I realized that I like having people in my life who love art and ideas and creativity, and those people don't come along very often. To be cliché, life is too short to not experience it to its fullest.

When you suddenly like being single... really

So, I was thinking last night, and I believe that I’m in a place, maybe for the first time, where I actually don’t WANT a relationship. And it’s not the "oh, I’m feeling all female-pride-y" either. For once, I’m just busy, and I don’t have room in my schedule for a boyfriend. It’s weird to say, but I’ve never been the type, at least until now, who couldn’t see where a guy would fit in, but I can’t see where he would fit in…

Now-a-days, I get up at 6:35 in the morning, get ready, go to work, work until 5:30 - rarely taking lunch, go straight to taekwondo, class until 7 or 8 depending on the night, then it’s home to eat & get ready for bed, and hit the hay by 10ish. Where in the world am I going to stick a guy in there?! I mean, weekends sure, but I generally have plans of some kind with friends or family, so maybe one weekend-night per week I could see someone. Now, for a lot of guys, that sounds like a perfect relationship, but for a lot it doesn’t. And for me, well, I don’t WANT to “have” to plan to see someone at least once a week.

It is weird how getting into a groove with work and hobbies and friends can so easily become important. It seems that I finally prefer getting to bed at a decent hour than canoodling with a boy. I mean, in college, no problemo! I was always up for doing everything, I thought, and then would get exhausted or sick or neglect my friends to make room for a guy. Now, I neglect my friends regardless, but only during the week, ha. It makes me wonder a little if this is how women end up 35 and single, but I just can't seem to be worried by that possibility.

What does it say about a person when he/she finally comes to a place where a relationship just isn’t that important? Where it doesn’t seem fulfilling anymore?

Is this really the 21st century?

I've been noticing an odd trend on the interweb... Everyday I check MSN.com and I see flurries of "advice on relationship" articles. Everything from "Spot Relationship Road Bumps" to "8 New Love Truths You Must Know" to "How to Tell if a Guy is Cheating"...

WTF?

Why is it that women are given all these seemingly dated "tips" on how to catch, keep, and make sure your man stays? I mean, in the article about spotting potential "roadblocks" in your budding relationship, it basically told women how to manipulate the men they date into getting into/staying in a relationship. What has happened to honesty? And I don't mean the 1990s-scary-feminist honesty where women go dutch on everything, expect their boyfriends to treat them like bland equals (doesn't work in the bedroom if there aren't gender roles, in my opinion) and yell if a door is opened for them. I mean, what happened to being honest about what we want and being relaxed on the path to getting there? Are these articles trying to tell us that we, women today, have nothing going on in our lives other than the 1950s-esque pursuit of a man? That we need to "find" something to do when we "feign" being busy so he doesn't feel pressured? DON'T WE HAVE THINGS TO DO?! God knows I do.

I'm certainly no expert on relationships, even though too many of my friends seem to think that I am, but really, can we please stop with the mind games and act like the 21st-century adults we are...

Feeling the blues...

So, it's been a while since I've written here, and I feel that I need to just vent some things, get them off my chest, so-to-speak.

First, I know I shouldn’t get the “everyone around me” is doing better than I am feeling, but it’s just so weird to see so many people I went to high school with (who all went to fancy, private universities, which always makes me feel a little badly) running off and getting married and engaged or whatever. I don't want to be married, but it makes me feel like maybe I'm missing a gene or something. Am I so pathetic that I can't find someone who wants to be with me.

I think that with the current boyfriend, at this point, I don’t want to hurt him more than I want to get out. Yes, we got back together, and now I'm not sure why. I see him maybe 2x per week and there’s really no one else who has sparked my interest, so I figure it’ll hurt him less for now. I know that's a terrible way to look at it. He IS fun one-on-one and I do enjoy our time together.

I don’t know WHAT the computer guy is doing still here, but I’m just not going to spend time with him again unless it’s getting coffee to say a last “good-bye” before he moves away. I feel a little ugh about sleeping with him anyway. The ex-boyfriend artist is certainly in the past, but it just reminds me how I wasn’t good “enough” to be worth his long-term time. I know that people don’t change for you, generally, but sometimes I wish someone would.

Then, I've been feeling oddly jealous of my roommate - a woman I've never felt even remotely jealous of in the past. Our neighbor is clearly into her and is flirting with her all over the place. I guess, it's weird for me because normally I’m fairly appalled by her choice in men, and just get annoyed when she’s all over them because they give her the littlest attention in return. I’m just not used to her going for guys that I actually think are decent, DATEBALE men (she’s gone for guys I thought were attractive before, but not actually date-worthy). Her innocent, never take it anywhere, ever does bug me, but maybe I should set the same standard for myself.

Part of my slump comes from hanging out with my neighbors, aside from the flirting with my roommate, because they actually have skills. One is an amazing musician, and the other is a really skilled handyman, and those are just their hobbies! I feel like I don’t have any one thing that I’m really good at and I don’t feel like my skill set is all that special anyway. I’m a decent, but not record-setting salesperson, I was a strong, but not exception student, I’m cute, but not beautiful, I’m intelligent, but not brilliant, I’m motivated, but not truly driven, etc. I know that I can change things about my life and work harder, but sometimes I realize that it’s just not “in me” and I feel that I can’t really get any more out of life because I have nothing “great” to put into living. I know that sounds all dire and pessimistic, but I’m just noting that some people have talents that sometimes I wish I possessed. You know, maybe part of it is that I feel like I never REALLY get the things that I want the most in life.

On a little different note, I think our culture certainly influences us to feel the need to be sexual beings more than we should be. It’s weird because most Europeans seem to be sexy looking, but without the feeling that they need to act on it. I feel like I have been too lax about sex and I need to get a grip on that aspect of my personality. I do enjoy sex, but I think that I have “slept around” (outside my 4 actual relationships) more than other girls is because I also do enjoy feeling sexy and wanted in that way. It probably stems from when I had bad body image back when I was 14 or so, and not realizing that men found me attractive, really, until college. Then maybe the last couple years I just went a little overboard because I realized that I could work my ‘feminine wiles’ and took them too far.

Missing my "Bubble"

So, I was thinking about a couple of projects that might be highly amusing...

1.) "Lemmings" photograph people navigating obviously superfluous traffic cones arranged on back roads...

2.) "Reuse & Recycle" photograph yuppies with cars full of bottled water "recycling" their cardboard by handing it out to bums to use for signs and place captions about the waste that bottled water creates...

I think that with the caving in of our banking system, I need an artistic outlet to keep myself from going crazy with frustration at our entire nation. Sigh. When did I get to be old enough to understand the economy?

I wish that I was young and foolish again. In my happy college bubble I was blissfully unaware of the economic underpinnings of our housing bubble. In fact, I was completely clueless as to any part of our economic system, really. It's bad, I know, but part of me wishes I could run back to school to hide from the reality of a horrible economic situation, but alas, I cannot. I've taken on the burden of adulthood, and now have to live with myself.

Once the fruit has been tasted, the knowledge cannot be unlearned.

Ever Been Alone?

I realized today, as I lounged in my lukewarm bath, that I have never been alone (as in single, REALLY single) since my first real kiss at the age of 16. SIXTEEN! Now, there have been periods when I wasn't with a "boyfriend," and in the past, I've always considered those times as the moments when I was on my own. Alone. Doing the single thing.

But I thought today, wait, does it count as single if there's always a guy around? I mean, I always had a flirtation, someone who wanted me, or who I wanted, in between the boyfriends. Now, I didn't sleep with all of them, some I did. In the end though, I have never, ever been without.

Now, I realize that some people would like to have this problem, if that's what it is. I know what you must be thinking, how sad, a girl with too many options, gee, tough life. Really, though, what does it say about me? I always love the times when I'm not in a committed relationship just as much as when I'm in one, and when I don't have a boyfriend, I never feel pressure to go out and find one. In reality, I've hurt more guys than have hurt me.

I don't have a Daddy-complex to speak of, my father was always around, supportive and loving, never abusive. I don't have low self-esteem. What is it then? Why the continual dating?

Or perhaps, I just enjoy guys, and have been told by society that "being single" is critical. Maybe society tells me that because of the vestiges of the feminist movement that want women to be independent. After all, I've never been supported by a guy. I've never had a man pay for any of my expenses or buy me things I couldn't afford for myself. I've never moved in with a boyfriend.

... Which is the right "answer"?

The New Year

I guess it's that time of year to begin thinking about what I want to change next year. I've never been much for resolutions. Not because I'm against them, I've just never gotten into making them. It seems too often that people make resolutions that they can't keep or give up on very quickly. Perhaps it's because we believe that our resolutions have to be momentous in order for them to "count." I don't know. Major changes happen over time and cannot truly happen over night. It's not like we can wake up a new person on Jan. 1. 

So, my boyfriend is quitting smoking. That's exciting, but it's something that will be a tough process and one that will take him years (?) to completely, totally be rid of it. He's really going to try. He's starting to jog with me and he's loading up on nicotine gum/patches. I hope that he can make it longer than the 30 hours he made it last year. ha.

Me, well, that's a different story. I guess my goal should be to focus at work more (unlike what I'm currently doing). I definitely want to pursue my New Life Plan (henceforth, NLP) by researching and gathering information. Yep, those two things are it. But then, how do I do that most successfully? I have a lot of trouble focusing in the office and it's a little overwhelming thinking about all the work I need to do to get moving on a project like the one I want to begin. So, perhaps, my resolution should actually be to take my goals one day at a time.

Much better, I believe.

How it feels

It feels good. Very good. 

I thought it wouldn't ever happen again. Honestly. It sounds melodramatic, but after being with an impassioned artist for three years (off-and-on) I was convinced that I could only fall in love with someone who could inspire strong negative and positive emotions. I thought that I would be doomed to either feel lukewarm about a stable, relatively normal guy OR to be with an unstable, but passionate artist/musician/dancer type. 

No one had ever made me feel the extremes of emotion that this ex had made me feel. I was crushed beyond recognition (I felt at the time) when we broke up the first time. I was traumatized when he was dating other women, even though I was with other men. I fell instantly back in love with him when we'd get back together. I thought, "ok, so this fighting, and off-and-on elation and misery are the key to being in love" I believed that someone more easy going or less angsty would not be able to make me love him the way I loved my emotionally fraught relationship with the artist.

It's funny. I think everyone should date someone who drives them crazy. I think everyone should be ridiculously in love with someone who will break his/her heart and who will have his/her heart broken. He once said to me, "I've never felt as passionately about anyone as I do about you." And I believed that I could never have that feeling again.

Then, as the problems bubbled more and more to the surface, and the inevitability of my leaving became clear to me, I was willing to leave that passion behind. I knew I would never be happy, and so I resigned myself to never feeling like that with someone else. I knew I would love someone else, but I thought it couldn't possibly be as good or deep.

Time passed, and as the old song goes, "time is a healer," something I really believe. I let my heart heal, even though it was me who finally left, it still somehow felt like it was him. I made mistakes, I slept with two different best friends and hurt both of them on my path to recovery. I moved to a new city and began a new life.

But I never forgot that I would "never" find love again. Then, I met him. My new boyfriend. And he is everything my ex was not. He is relaxed. He holds down a job. He is "book smart" and likes to read. He has been with 2 women rather than many. He isn't intimidated by my intelligence. He is gentle and sweet. And he loves me. And I love him.

God, it's amazing, but I feel so good. I love him like I thought I couldn't love anyone, and it's better this time. There isn't the terrible low to accompany the high. There aren't the irrational fears and depression. He makes me happy and I motivate him.

Funny how life turns out. I guess I need to remember that we can always find someone who makes sense for us, and we really can fall back in love.

Susie Homemaker

When did I turn into Susie Homemaker?

Recently, I decided that we (my boyfriend and I) should eat at home more often. It's better for us and we can put our money to better use than eating out. So, I've started cooking. It's simple stuff, really, but I feel good about not eating in restaurants so much, and actually, I've liked cooking. Not that I love the cooking itself, but the whole process. My boyfriend putsing around the living room, me in the kitchen, him coming into the kitchen to give me kisses, listening to music, BSing about our day, etc. The whole thing.

It's weird. I mean, on the professional side, I work in a male-dominated field. I handle myself like an adult and go head to head with the "old boys" on a regular basis. I cut big deals, I bring in lots of revenue. On the personal side, I like to have sex. I've hurt more guys than have ever been hurt because I treated sex casually. I expect to be considered my boyfriend's equal and have no problem out earning him. 

Yet, there I am. Packing him a lunch in the mornings. Cooking dinner at night. Yes, he does the dishes and always says thank you. He always tells me how good I am for him and how I motivate and inspire him. So, despite the fact that I am a fully capable woman who is self supporting, I've still turned into my mother.

My mother is a neat lady. She's super smart and she did a good job raising us. We all went to college because she motivated us and pushed us. She helped my father start his own business. And she cooked dinner and made lunches for us, even to today, when 2/3 of her kids are out of the house. I can see my mother in me when I'm cutting the cheese perfectly for the sandwiches and spreading the mustard & mayo evenly. I can see her when I'm mixing the sauces and stirring the noodles, and I can't help, but wonder.

When did I turn into Susie Homemaker?