This Should Feel Familiar

I'm watching Johnno through window from the park behind our building. Today has been one of the worst in my life in a long time--but this should feel familiar....

There's a reason I'm a fatalist.

Every time I think I have something good in my life it falls apart. I should be used to disappointment and yet here I am again--acting like it is some novel feeling

No we didn't break up.

Johnno lost his job today. I found out that my brother is in jail & will probably serve time. I'm pretty sure the wedding is off since there is no way to afford it given the current situation.

And I don't think we're strong enough to do this again.... So unless some drastic happens then this it it. I'm just tired of mourning. I know I'll be fine sooner than later--I'm a survivor but I'm just tired

And nothing is decided yet but I just cannot see pulling this off... The upside is I'm too depressed to eat so there's that at least

Another Bitch

I made a new friend... He is a pretty little thing but also a humper so it forced a bit of distance to the relationship. I love the little bitch

BOOK WHORE

Another Kind of Love by Paula Christian

I loved this book... I'll be honest--I bought this novel based off the cover art and scandalous feel--I didnt know anything about the author or even the lesbian pulp genre. But I totally loved the two novels in this collection because they were solidly written, with interesting characters and though I could take or leave the sadness of the tone--I was willing to accept that since it was two books written in 1961.

It wasnt going to be pretty or sympathetic.

But it is a valuable and interesting window into a world some people would never know if it wasnt for these stories, the details of the subculture and the historical aspect of the experience. I also liked that each book looked at a different place--one is in New York and the other is in Los Angles--and found the little details of the time and how they effected each locale.

I would suggest anyone who likes well written trashy novels steeped in context. Well worth the effort

Working Girl

Working Girl

So for the last few months my job has been killing me--mostly by being so busy and crazy that sometimes it has been hard to breath. It's hard to complain about that when you work in freelance because most of my co-workers from my vast career in reality TV would kill for something as open ended as this job has turned out to be. And I found myself growing more and more attached to my work family--we have been a team now off and on for over two years that I spend more time with them then most other people in my life.

I really like them.

That said--with the work scehdule continuing to grow crazy and never catching up I was debating trying to leave. I know I couldnt because of the wedding and Johnno and I paying for it mostly ourselves but I had reached a point where I just felt so far behind and not even getting much of a chance to improve my career that I was at a loss. And because they are family--the office was starting to feel that.

I wasnt being a bitch.

I just was tired and drained, working on my weekends and in a constant state of shuffling. I would have meetings and be honest about what was going on with the work load--I have a nickname at the office for being the Grim Reaper--but I think they understood what I was trying to say. And eventually we tried various gameplans to make the show work; adding new people to mix--some who worked and some who didnt--trying different work flows but it was getting to the point that it was hard to feel any forward movement.

So instead they gave me not one--but two!--raises and two new job titles. Part of me knows they did this to try and make it harder for me to leave; they did the same for the girl who works under me but that's okay. I cant help but see what they are doing--by paying us more and give us more of a career move they are then making it harder to leave. And they shifted the other jobs around as well to help and keep everyone in the process and create a better flow which seems to be working.

And it makes me happy.

I cant help but feel the love right now--even if I know there are strings attached. It makes me feel like I bet on the right horse and am where I am supposed to be for the moment. They are trying to make us all happy and create and foster a strong team which seems to be working.

And more money--have to love more money.

WEDDING CAKE

Must not open the cake box in the office or Johnno would leave me.... But I have a cake box and am so excited about it!!! Yum yum yum

Build this now

Someone needs to build this for ASAP... I would like this in everyplace I live from now on

Wedding Training

So who had the time to train me on how to curl my hair? I love this style and would die if I could rock it on the wedding day... It's a bit girlie I guess but just seems so fashion forward that I can't help but love it

BOOK WHORE

Insignificant Others by Stephen McCauley

I really wanted to like this book... The writing is strong and crisp though a bit smug at points but I just couldnt get over the plot itself. I didnt feel much sympathy for Richard and his situation beause he really only gets concerned once his spouse has more feelings for his lover than Richard--but Richard is more than guilty of the exact same thing in an even worse way. He doesnt seem to care at all for Conrad--he only wants to keep Conrad out of jealousy.
It's annoying and makes him unrootable.

The one thing I did love was the character of Doreen. She is not a fag hag by any stretch and her dynamic with Ricahrd as well as her overall development is fascinating. Cold, aloof, ambitious yet with more depth than you can expect--she is really the star of this book. I just wish it had given me something or someone to root for but Richard is so spoiled and cold that I couldnt care less.

Syntax Stress

Syntax Stress

Its my own damn fault. Part of the stress of planning my wedding has come from my own inability to say the right things the right way; using the wrong words or not saying anything at all. I have left things slide or stagnate through my own inaction but fortunately I have been called out on it.

It needed to happen.

See, Johnno and I have both been stressing out about our lack of an engagement party. We were offered one by Kelly back when we first were engaged 2 years ago but we held off. We were paranoid about paying for the wedding ourselves and unsure who we could invite. Weddings are very political things to a degree--how many people you can have, who you choose to invite, when you choose to invite them--and we were scared. We didn't want to step on the toes of friends who were engaged sooner and getting married earlier, we didn't want to risk inviting people to an engagement party if we weren't sure we could have them at the wedding so we kept pushing off any party.

Now in our minds the engagement party would be a party similar to what my friends did for Kelly years ago--simple, elegant night out with friends to eat, drink and be merry as we all got excited about her upcoming nuptials. It wasn't stuffy or overly done but just candles and pretty views and cocktails with her nearest and dearest. We want to have that same type of affair for ourselves to get more excited about the wedding.

See--the thing is the grunt work of wedding planning is stressful. It's pick colors down to the right shade, budgeting for every possible problems, telling family members to stop trying to invite people and figuring out how to work our friends into the ceremony. It's about squirming over contracts and tasting every dish under the sun, handpicking play lists for the reception and finding a photographer who wont make you feel fat. And while having a planner has helped with this in a major way it is still something that can make the best couple bicker.

Which is why the idea of the engagement party took on such a focus for us--something to be fun and dressed up and celebrate with people. A night that we could laugh and shrug off concerns about place settings and marriage vows to enjoy the excitement of the special day. And every time we dropped hints, trying to ask about said party we were greeted with either silence or a quick agreement it was happening. It was starting to annoy us that we didn't feel we knew what was going on.

Things came to a head when I sent out an email asking about when the engagement party would be since we were planning the last few trips up to Seattle to settle things for the wedding. The question was avoided and my feelings were hurt because I was led to believe that nothing was happening and I didn't want to push and feel like forced anyone into anything and instead had built up such an anger about the issue I could barely see straight.

Turns out I was using the wrong word.

When I finally sat down and talked things over with my maid of honor I realized that the girls all felt the time for an engagement party had passed and that I had said no when they offered so they were annoyed that I felt like they blew me off. They were more concerned about throwing a shower which I never even though about--I just wanted Johnno and I to have any kind of party. Everyone was hearing the specific words used when I was using the wrong words all along.

So when Edie and I sat down and had a long discussion about wedding things--the one thing that came clearer and clearer was I wasn't expressing myself the right way. I was using the wrong words and not saying any words at the wrong time and if I actually sat down and thought things through and communicated them properly it would be okay.

I had to use my words--the right words so people could meet me half way.

Knowing how much of what was going on was a misunderstand freed me of so much. To know that they were waiting on me to say what I need and what I wanted so they could try and make things happen... It helped a huge deal to know this. That they want to celebrate, to help and to be there and I wasn't being pushy or unfair took away so much of my stress that it was freeing. It really does matter that I say what I feel and what I want so I can make things happen for me, for the girls and for Johnno... It was a good lesson

PS I am sure I am not using syntax in the right way but it sounded good. I have much more to learn I guess.

Weight and Waiting

Weight and Waiting

So as you probably saw here--I broke the elipitcal at my apartment. Now it wasn't  a fancy 4 figured number, just one of those simple ones that shouldnt last forever and would die eventually. That said--nothing makes you feel fatter than snapping a metal pipe from the weight of your foot--makes you wonder about how much the scale is lying. What sucks most is that I had recently somehow pulled a muscle in my chest which meant doing my usual weight and strength routine was impossible--so I had focused on cardio for the past 4 weeks so I could recover.

I dropped 14 pounds in the first two weeks.

It was amazing because I had felt like I had plateau-ed for so long that any weight change would be good. As a result, I was becoming obsessed with my diet, my workouts, my overall looks in the past weeks. Between trying on various suit options for the wedding--did you know there are male Spanks?--and just bad numbers on the scale I was getting to the tipping point within myself.

And it hasnt help that a number of people in my life are the same way--roommates and co-workers and friends at parties and blogs I read and twitters I follow. Everyone talking about juice fasts and carbs and runnning and Zumba and fitting into clothing and double chins. It was to the point where I reached a line within myself that was very close to Bulemia Rory.

It made my stomach ache to think about it. (The pulled muscle I mean)

So I have decided I have to relax for a bit and just keep working with the things I know help. Less carbs, stay strong with the vegan diet, concentrate on the best workouts for me but also to keep my mind free and clear from overjudging, listen to what my body needs and not let other people's obsessions feed mine. I know how to do better and I just need to remind myself this is a relay and not a sprint, that it's my journey and only I can live it and be responsible for it.

And that some piece of cheap metal snapping is not my fault. I blame being awesome at fitness then bad at my weight

Super Bowl Sadness

Super Bowl Sadness

So it has been a week to the day of the Super Bowl. I wasn't  too much into this year's match up--though I was rooting for the Ravens--but once again it was a party though this time it was at Dominic's house. And it wasnt even a party but just a small group of us....

Us...

See somehow in the last couple of years a handful of people have turned Sundays into a viewing party at Dominic's place--we roll in wearing sweatshirts and ugg boots with unwashed hair and veggie platters. We yell at the games and discuss politics and arts and gossip and more sports, we all try to not eat the candy constantly laying around the place, take turns cooking for each other and just relaxing through out a long afternoon. It's almost always the same group--Nolan, Shannon, Marti, Kelly and Johnny, Valeska and her boyfriend, Lola and me with Johnno. It's the one day of the week where we just get to chill and catch up--most of us dont get that time the rest of the week between people working nights or living in  Long Beach or being on the wrong of the Hill.

And I'm already missing it.

A lot of the hanging out we do as a group is going out and doing things; parties or bars, group dinners or movies, sometimes all of us but rarely in this combination of people. I enjoy that we get to lay around like broccoli and just be, to be quiet and play on our phones, for the girls to not wear heels or Johnno and I to just detox from a bad week. We have fun just talking and sporting and listening--I have been able to get to know more about these people on these days more than anywhere else sometimes.

But once the Super Bowl happens we all kind of go our own separate ways--back to writing on the weekends or spending days hungover or chores and shopping for the week. It becomes hard for most of us to see each other, takes multiple phone calls and emails to grab a drink or say hello, we'll see each other at crowded parties or late night roommates passing by at the Dollhouse.

It's not the same

Whatever Is Easier

Whatever Is Easier

My grandfather died right before Christmas. He wasnt my real grandfather--he was my step grandfather--my sister's grandfather. I wasnt related by blood or adoption, he came into my life when I was just about a teenager, but when it comes to that figure in my life--he was the closest one I had. Mr B.--Bobby--wasnt the easiest man to get along with; he was simple and obsessive about the things he loved. Photography, van tours of Nantucket, his million of machines in his basement, his ham radio. He often tried to me and my brother into these things but he was also much older than even my real grandparents and it was often hard to connect to him.

He never understood my passion for teen books, or what it meant when I was wearing my walkman--I couldnt hear him--he didnt care for clothes or games of scrabble. We didnt meet on much common ground and I still to this day wince when I think of the number of times I rolled my eyes at his routine, his insistance that would I would want to know how to use a jigsaw or talk to trucker on CB radio. I wasnt always the nicest kid but he always reached out in his way.

I was--and wasnt--surprised when he passed. But what surprised me was how shook up I was--how I was going to miss his flashlights in restaraunts when he could read the menu, his stories about the great Noreasters on the island or the simple pleasure he took from his growing flowers or his solar pannels he installed by hand himself--well before most people did. He loved science and working with his hands, he tried to capture everything on film and loved to hear stories from people. He was honest and worked hard, proud of what he built and always the first to reach out hand in his own way.

And when he passed I tried to figure out how to get home for the funeral. There were things that they had to do due to the way he passed--he had been in the hospital and treated for a mild issue, released and passed away days later. No one--not even he--knew how sick he was and on his first day out of the hospital he went to the store, did his exercises, ate his daily oatmeal. Routine to then the end. And they werent sure what had happened and they had to do an autopsy to make sure--which made picking a date for the funeral hard to guess.

So my mother said what she always says--you dont have to come home, whatever is easier.

She has said this to me many times; when she had surgey on her knee, for the first Christmas that my sister would remember, when she was dealing with my brother and rehab, when it came to other deaths in the family. And the conversation would always turn to the longistics of me coming home--the cost of a flight, how they would have to come out to the city to get me, what they would do with the dog, the house, the baby if they had to get me. It was always made to feel so complicated for them.

So I never went home.

But this latest time, this passing of Mr B, the mess of feelings and desire to support at least my sister, ran over me like a mack truck. I knew the only cheap flights were Christmas Day, that the weather out there was to be dreadful the whole trip back, I could get stuck somewhere, I would be leaving Johnno alone on the holiday. I called my mother and once again she explains how hard the trip would be, how they didnt know how long I would stay, to do whatever was easier.

So I stopped looking into going home.

I felt awful about the decision but also felt from all my conversations with my mother that this would be inconvient for them, another person in the way around the house, another risky car ride... I was eating myself up--it didnt help that Johnno was talking with his family, having the type of relationship that I was in awe of, and I was becoming more snappish and edgy. And Johnno finally forced me to do the one thing I have never done.

I called my mother out on "whatever is easier"

He made me realize that the phrase obviously had an effect on me, obviously was doing something to me--if not in so many words. It forced me to call my mother and explain to her how much she hurt me when she used that phrase, that it made me feel like a bother, an inconvience when those issues came up and like I wasnt wanted there. That I felt I was being judge at the same time for not being there, that people out there thought I didnt care or couldnt be bothered. I explained that my decisions on these things were dictated by her imply how much of a burden it would be.

She was taken aback.

She finally explained that she had spent so much time saying those things because it would make things easier for me not to come. That I had spent so many years out here missing things--a process that had began simply because I couldnt afford the money or time off--which is not the case anymore. She finally heard me when I said that her dismissiveness, her instant excuses just made me feel like a burdern instead of a blessing and that i was tired of feeling that way.

It was a good talk.

By the end I think we came to a new understanding--that we saw where the other was coming from, that we would be less about protecting the other person and more about saying what we need. That maybe it was possible for both of us to drop the martyr act and say what we wanted from each other. It was a huge step forward for both of us.

And I think Mr B would have loved that--for all the quirkness and miscommunication he was all about family, spending time together, making memories and taking pictures. He would like the honesty in the communication, the directness, the focus on the words and not innuendo. Maybe that is the most fitting tribute of all?

Office decor

I told you I'd be serving Valentine's Day realness... Though the picture is a bit dark--so consider it romantic. I'm just here to make people happy

I guess....

I work out too much... I literally worked the elliptical so hard it broke the metal & fell apart.... Like split through the metal entirely... I guess 4 weeks in a row--6 days a week at least was too much

Current Obsession

I've been slowly rereading books for the wedding & have rediscovered my passion for this classic. Somehow I'd forgotten how crisp & clean this story is