Bon Voyage!

In 4 and a half hours, I’m off to Mexico!! Per my usual habit, I still have to pack. I’ll be on a relatively deserted beach with no access to internet, cell phones, or blackberries. How will I survive? I may go into blog withdrawal. It’s very possible. See you all in about 10 days!

Put Your Girls First

I try to follow one major rule with respect to my girl friends: I try my best not to choose boys, or the distant possibility of a relationship with them, or the certain chance of a meaningless though possibly fun tumble with them, over my girls.

Why is this? Because during the last fifteen years of dating, while a lot of men have come and gone, the relationships that have lasted are the ones that I have developed with my girl friends. I love them, I’m fiercely loyal to them, and I want them to know that with me they come first.

But, I’m weak sometimes. I make mistakes. For example, the last time I flew to Detroit I had plans to see one of my closest friends, Wood. Unfortunately, that trip happened to be just at the time that my relationship with EXBF was self-combusting. I was a distraught, confused, sobbing mess for big chunks of the weekend. And, when the subject of breaking up was raised, I chose to stay in the car with EXBF to try to once and for all sort out our stuff instead of visiting with Wood. That whole time still makes me feel sad to think about. It makes me sad to think how sad I was. It makes me sad to think that though I loved EXBF it didn’t work out with him, and it makes me sad that I chose not to see a friend for a boy that became dead to me just a month later.

After EXBF and I broke up, I became stronger. Or, more accurately, I rediscovered through the haze of pain surrounding me how strong I actually was. Somehow, during the three years of my tumultuous interaction with EXBF, I had forgotten some of my strengths. I had forgotten that I do not in fact need a boy to give my life purpose. I can’t believe I just wrote that sentence, because the flip of it is that I had come to feel that I needed him and our relationship to give my life purpose. Oh, Buttercup, how low you had fallen! But, remember, I was in love, depressed, worn down by months and months of having my heart stomped to pieces, and stressed out beyond belief by my toxic job. I was not in a good place. My future was horribly uncertain. Sometimes in the midst of things, it’s hard to see them for how destructive they actually are.

Flash forward to just recently. I had been out to dinner with Tapas Boy once and we were trying to set up another date but were having some scheduling issues. He could only do a Thursday and was saying that he really wanted to see me and since our first date had been so great I really wanted to see him, so I decided against my better judgment to forego my weekly Thursday night ANTM viewing with Lakshmi and agreed to go out with him. There, I said it, once again, I chose a boy over spending time with one of my girls. A week after that decision, guess who was still around and guess who had become MIA?

As you all know, Tapas Boy and I ended up going out last minute on Wednesday instead of Thursday, because he couldn’t break his plans with his friend on Thursday night, and after a decent Date #2, I didn’t hear from the boy for 8 days. Although I ended up not cancelling with Lakshmi for Thursday, the part that bothers me is that I was ready to cancel on her for a boy that I had been on only one date with that I thought I might like. I didn’t even like him. I just thought I might like him. The other reason I was ready to cancel was that I knew Lakshmi would understand, and also that she would enjoy herself without me watching ANTM. My close girl friends are all like that. They understand my weaknesses, yet they love and support me. They forgive me when I make mistakes, which just makes me want to try even harder not to make them. But still, I didn’t behave like the type of woman I aspire to be.

Well, not this week, brother. This week, I am being the woman I want to be. I am being a woman worthy of my amazingly wonderful girl friends. I’m putting me first and I’m putting them first.

Exhibit #1: After spending Friday night with River, I spent parts of Saturday thinking that I liked him. I was a little bubbly inside and a flicker of hope was unfurling inside of me. I thought for a second wistfully and a tad regretfully that I had made my trip to Mexico so long. By 3:00 am Saturday night, after he had texted me and I had texted him the location at which I was drinking and after he had texted me back that he was in a different location drinking and that we would “be in touch,” and after he had failed to materialize, the flicker of hope died, I felt the stab of vulnerability striking again, and I decided that he was a player and that it was impossible to have sex without becoming emotionally attached. Don’t worry, I also flirted at the bar with a bunch of very cute boys, so it wasn’t like I let me evening be ruined, but I still felt a tiny bit let down.

I could have (easily) spent the remainder of the weekend obsessing, berating myself for getting involved on any level with River, or feeling bad that I had made myself vulnerable. But, guess what? I didn’t do that. I decided that the past was the past and I wasn’t going to worry about it. If River just wanted to take me on dates, call me, and text me to sleep with me, fine. It was a nice cleansing experience. He’s gorgeous and I most certainly do not regret being that close to his beautifully smooth, perfectly muscled, chocolate brown body. What’s done is done. Instead, I just pushed him out of my mind and started getting excited for my trip. I didn’t even worry about it! Go me! (Update: He called and wants to see me before I go. I’ll keep you posted).

Exhibit #2: After Tapas Boy emailed me last Thursday to tell me that he was unavailable, I waited five days, until late last night, to email him back and let him know that I was going on vacation this Friday. Wouldn’t you know that Tapas Boy immediately emailed me back and wanted to know if I was available tonight for a drink. I don’t think so. a) I have plans with Lakshmi. b) Even if I didn’t have plans, I most certainly would not make myself available to a boy who had waited 8 days after our last date to make contact. I mean, puh-leeeeeeze.

So, there you have it. I chose me over one boy and my girl friend over the other one. Two excellent choices in one excellent week. I’m proud of me.

Bikini Shopping

I highly recommend that you go to a yoga class. Right now. Or, if not now, then as soon as practicable. I’m happy and a little proud to report that on my first Monday off of work I woke up, had a healthy breakfast of Kashi Go Lean Crunch and peach Activa yogurt, and then speed walked 14 blocks to make it to a Hatha Yoga class. Not a bad start to my two months of freedom, eh? (That “eh” was for my Canadian blogger friends).

Speaking of Canadians, I just found out that one of my friends in the city is Canadian. I met her for lunch today after my yoga class and learned that she was from Calgary. I knew there was a reason I had liked her immediately. She’s a lactation specialist, interested in the subject in part because of its implications for women’s rights, and she told me something I had never heard before about the birth process. Apparently, after a woman gives birth there is a huge rush of endorphins in the mother’s body that helps erase the memories of the birthing pain and also helps with the mother-child bonding. I like the idea of Bean having a nice rush of positive post-birthing endorphins to look forward to.

Note the ticker at the top of the blog. We’re down to about 2 weeks folks. Wow.

After lunch, I had a doctor’s appointment to get some of the shots I’ll need in preparation for my trip to India in April, and then headed over to Macy’s to do some serious bathing suit shopping. It took a while but, remarkably, I had some success. I found two suits that though not fantastic are decent. One is by Esprit (blue with white polka dots on the bottom, and white with blue polka dots on the top) and the other is by O’neill (island flowers against a white background with black trim). Now I won’t have to do bikini boot camp in the buff!

My words of wisdom to anyone bold enough to brave the swimsuit section are these: Eat light beforehand, do not get discouraged, bring a pocket mirror, go back to the floor for a second pass if at first you don’t succeed, and remember at all times that it’s not you, it’s the dressing room lighting.

Intoxicating Freedom

Between last-day-of-work celebrating and St. Patty’s Day, my first weekend of freedom was a complete and utter blast. I had a party Friday night to commemorate my last day of work ever in a swanky lounge down in the Meatpacking District. They served excellent cocktails and needless to say, I had many of them. Along with my brother Frey, most of my favorite people in the city came by to have a few drinks in my honor, including Em, Essa, and Lakshmi. River, a guy I have been sort-of-seeing, was also there, which I thought was pretty sweet.

Just as I wrote that, I realized that “S.O.S.” is short for “sort-of-seeing,” and I’m wondering now if that’s a sign. Hmm… I’ve been thinking a bit this weekend about semi-annoying dating issues (that arise, for example, when you’re sort of seeing someone), but won’t get into it now as I just talked to Bean for the past two hours and am too happy thinking about baby things to go into any boy issues.

As a quick update on a different boy, Tapas Boy ending up breaking radio silence by emailing me on the 8th day to tell me congratulations on leaving my job and that he would be out of town for the week. Basically, Tapas Boy read HJNTITU and decided to model his behavior perfectly on the type of guy who is just not that into the people he dates. He acts into you, then doesn’t call, and then emails to tell you he’s not available. Lovely! For obvious reasons, he’s out.

Getting back to baby stuff. Bean’s about ready to pop. As we were talking tonight she was sending me pictures through email and when I saw the first picture all that came to mind was “wow.” Her tummy is huge. It looks like there’s another Bean curled up into a little ball protruding out of her stomach region. I can’t believe that my baby sister is going to have a baby. She’s going to be a Mommy and I’m going to be an Auntie!!

Looking at her smiling face on my computer, all I could think was how much I love her. Boys and dating in NYC be damned. My sister’s having a baby and I’m going to be an Auntie. Plus, I’m FREE!! Those are the things that truly matter. The rest is just static.

Christmas In March

After a long time, the day I’ve been waiting for is here. It’s my last day at my firm. After today, I will never ever have to go back to that dreaded place. It feels like Christmas. I’m happy, excited, and hopeful. I still have to finish cleaning out my office so I can’t write more about the significance of all of this now, but I thought I’d share with you the dream I had last night. What do you make of it?

I’m in the kitchen of a large house situated on a hill next to a large scary wooded area. I’m standing around the center island talking with two of my girlfriends when we hear a noise outside. My friends think it’s nothing, but I start running around checking all of the locks on the doors and windows. I’m terrified, but my friends don’t fully understand why I’m scared.

Suddenly, men dressed as soldiers armed with long knives enter the kitchen. It’s unclear if my friends can see them, but I can. They’re ghosts or people from another time who have come out of the woods. They start threatening me and it’s clear that they could kill all of us. I start screaming at the soldiers to go away and my friends look at me like I’m losing my marbles. I’m scared that the soldiers are going to hurt them or me. One of the soldiers pick up a bowl (and my friends are shocked to see the bowl appear to move through the air on its own) and another cuts the table with his knife, demonstrating that even if they are ghosts they can inflict wounds. Finally, they leave, and I think we’re safe for the moment.

Later, my brother Frey arrives. I tell him to avoid the woods but of course he ignores my warnings. I’m outside and I look towards the woods and I see Frey going into them. Down ahead on the path that he’s walking on, I see a pretty woman dressed in a nurse’s outfit. She looks like she’s in distress but I know she’s just a trap. The soldiers are trying to lure him into the woods.

I start running towards the woods, and as I get closer I see that a group of soldiers are surrounding Frey. One of them has a bomb and is going to kill him, as other soldiers look on. They’re confident and they don’t notice me. Just outside the circle of men, I see Dragon Lady looking on, doing nothing to stop the soldiers. She’s with them!

I think quickly, grab some candy, and run straight into the group of men and approach the soldier holding the bomb. I flirt madly, offer him candy, bite into a piece of candy seductively and then make him take a bite. The distraction works. While the men are looking at me, Frey gets free, somehow gets a weapon, and starts killing all of the attackers. He kills the soldiers and I think also Dragon Lady. It’s over. I don’t have to be afraid anymore.

After the battle, Frey and I are telling our friends what happened and I say that I saved his life. He immediately denies that I saved his life and says that he was the one who saved us. He says he would have been fine even if I hadn’t created the distraction. I look at him and I know that he knows that I saved him and that he’s grateful for what I did, and that’s enough for me.

The End.

Ouch

I spent the night at River’s place last night and this morning, while I was reaching for my bag and getting ready to go, I suddenly felt a weird, painful sensation in my neck. Not exactly like a crunch or a pop, but somewhere in between. I think I pulled something. Now, I can hardly move my neck and I’m in pain! Plus, I’m fairly hung over and exhausted from not sleeping. Riding uptown this morning I had to hold my neck to keep it from hurting when the cabbie road over bumps and I felt nauseous.

Is the universe trying to send me a message that I should not sleep over boys’ places? Or, is it more kindly trying to say that it’s not a good idea to sleep on their muscular arms for the whole night?

I hurt. What should I do? Ice? Heat? Sleep?

Radio Silence

It’s gorgeous in New York today. It’s warm, the air smells fresh, and for the first time in months I was able to wear something other than my puffy down coat and boots. In the subway, three women were training seeing eye dogs, which made me think about what wonderful volunteer opportunities there are all around me. Wouldn’t that be cool to train seeing eye dogs? It’s worthwhile, plus it would be fun to work with the animals.

I have a dating update regarding Tapas Boy. If you’ll recall, after having a terrific first date, about 2 1/2 weeks later we went out for a second date last Wednesday. Date #2 also appeared to go quite well. There was good conversation during dinner, drinks out afterwards, some salsa dancing, and some tasteful canoodling in a corner. At the end of the evening, as we went to leave the bar, he gave me a kiss and made a flattering comment, and then offered to get me a cab. While we were waiting outside, he suggested that we both grab the same cab so that he could drop me off at home before heading back to his place. How sweet, I thought.

In the cab, things were cool. There was some flirting and comments about what a fun evening it had been, and then we arrived at my place and he said, “So soon?” I thanked him again for the evening and offered to give him some money for the taxi but he refused to take it. He gave me a kiss and when I went to pull away, he said “Give me another one,” so I did. Then I thanked him again and hopped out of the cab. In less than 10 minutes, he had sent me a text saying that he had had a great night and wishing me a goodnight.

Sounds good, right?

Well, since Wednesday, it’s been total radio silence. I haven’t heard a single word from him. Short of something disastrous happening to him, which I hope is not the case, I can only assume, thanks to the fact that I read the book He’s Just Not That Into You, that despite our two seemingly good dates he’s just not that into me.

One would think that would be the end of the analysis, and for the most part that would be true. Except that I don’t understand why he was so nice during the date, up to the very last moments of the date, and even past the date when he texted me. Why be so nice if he was not going to call again? The easy answer that explains all but the end of the night texting is that he wanted to come home with me, and when he realized that wasn’t going to happen he lost interest. I think that’s the most logical explanation, and if that’s the case, then of course I’m fine with him losing interest because I’m not interested in someone who’s just looking for a little nookie (unless I’m the one looking for that).

The other complicating factor is that we were introduced through a mutual friend, and one would think that he would have taken extra pains to make sure that we were cool with one another because of our mutual friend. Not calling a girl for a week after a date and making her wonder why, is not making sure that the two of you are cool. It’s being a bad dater.

Rumie thinks that he’s a player and she cited the fact that he’s into salsa dancing as support for her theory. I totally agree! When my friend had told me that he had a friend who was good looking and a salsa dancer I immediately assumed that he must be a player. You meet tons of people dancing salsa, the men are used to being the the spotlight, and it can be quite sexually charged. However, my friend assured me that Tapas Boy was not a player so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. It looks like my first assumption was right.

I’m fine with the whole thing for a number of reasons, including the fact that I don’t think I was really all that into him. On the second date, I discovered that the second kiss was not as good as the first, which was a key piece of information. I also learned that he was 40! I had thought he was between 34 and 36. I’m not sure how I feel about the idea of dating someone in a different decade than I’m in. I want to explore my 30s with someone in their 30s. Is that so wrong? I think 4 years older might be my new revised dating age upper limit.

So, what’s your analysis regarding the radio silence? Was he just looking for some nookie?

Operation Spirit

I have this thing about spending money, I don’t like to do it, at least not wastefully. Not that I don’t love shopping, because I do, and I’ve been guilty of buying up a storm on more than one occasion, particularly when there are good deals to be had. But, as a general rule, I’m careful with my money and I prefer to save it rather than spend it. I don’t like to spend it carelessly, I hate paying more for something than I know it’s worth, and decadence sometimes makes me uncomfortable.

I think it’s a product of an innate cautiousness and being the daughter of my father, who also has an aversion to spending money wastefully. Sometimes, while growing up, I did not agree with my father’s view as to what was wasteful and what was worthwhile, such as when he insisted that it would be wasteful for me to go to a college out of state, even though I had the grades to go almost anywhere. In that instance, I decided that going out of state was worthwhile – for the value of the education I was going to get and the value of being far away from home for a while – so I went away to college and relied on financial aid to make up the difference.

My father also believes that when you do something, you should do it right, and this goes for spending money on worthwhile endeavors. (My mother always had this view, but had a much broader definition as to what qualified as “worthwhile” which is why we went on a lot of awesome Caribbean vacations when I was younger). I’m not sure if my father believed this while we were growing up, but it’s certainly a lesson I’ve heard repeated many times as I’ve grown into adulthood and started to earn my own money. For example, just before I started my job at the firm, I was stressed out with the logistics of moving to New York and finding an apartment, and I was thinking that I had too little time and too little money saved up to take a vacation. My father, thankfully, talked some sense into me by reminding me that sparing myself some stress was worthwhile and that I was going to be making plenty of money once I started my job. He advised me to use some of my savings to take a trip and to pay the extra money I needed to in order to have peace of mind with respect to the move. I spent the money and never regretted it.

One thing I did regret about that period of time was that I had not taken enough time off. Or, more precisely, I had not taken enough stress-free time off. I took about 6 weeks off which would have been awesome except that I filled up most of that time with stress-filled activities. Bad move on my part, although some of it was unavoidable. I spent a lot of time packing up my apartment, apartment hunting in New York, and stressing about the move (before my Dad talked sense into me). I went on a 10-day vacation to Belize, which was wonderful, and went on a few short trips to visit my family, but other than that didn’t do any travelling. I was constantly moving from one thing to the next, figuring out logistics, or worrying about what was going to happen next. I also spent a lot of time worrying about other people, like my family and EXBF, instead of focusing on what I needed.

This time, I’m not going to make the same mistakes. I’m sure I’ll make different ones, but I’m not going to make the same ones. For starters, I arranged to take 8 weeks off before I start at my new firm. Although I’ve been talking about my upcoming 2 months of freedom as if it’s the greatest thing ever – which it is – you should know that it was incredibly stressful to ask for that amount of time. I was nervous that my new firm would have doubts about my level of commitment or might see me in some negative light because of my desire to be off work for that amount of time. Most lawyers don’t take two whole months off between jobs. It’s not the Type-A, over-achieving thing to do, and it certainly doesn’t make sense financially. Perhaps because of the money issue, it also strikes me as decadent and indulgent to be off work for such a lengthy period of time. However, despite the stress, doubts, fears, and feelings of guilt, I stuck to my guns and negotiated a late May start date. Go me.

Now that I have the time off, I need to figure out what to do with it. See, I’m already feeling the feverish urge to plot and plan. Why is it so hard for me to just sit still? I actually know the answer to that, I’m a Type-A overachiever (or at least I used to be before my firm crushed my overachieving tendencies into smithereens and turned me into a creature who delays in returning emails and phone calls as a survival mechanism). Sitting still with nothing to do is hard for me. Hence, my difficulties with meditation. In fact, last week, when I realized I was about to give my notice, I was paralyzed with anxiety for a moment thinking with dread about what was going to happen the first Monday that I did not have work. I pictured the worst case scenario: Me, completely undisciplined, staying in bed all day, doing nothing productive, playing endless games of spider solitaire, eating junk food, and waking up 8 weeks later to realize I had wasted my entire vacation! The horror! That’s why I need to plan, so that I don’t waste this valuable time.

I have goals for my 8 weeks of freedom. I want to cleanse, rejuvenate, detoxify, refresh, and rebalance my mind and body. I want to get back in touch with myself, enjoy life, have an amazing time travelling, and I want to have fun. To achieve these goals I plan to do everything in my power during my 8 weeks of freedom to (a) erase from my soul the negativity of working the last 2 1/2 years in a toxic cesspool, and (b) make up for the last 2 1/2 years of sacrifice by enjoying my work-free existence to the absolute fullest. In honor of one of my favorite bands of all time, and inspired by Starshine’s Operation String Bikini, I’m dubbing my 8 weeks of freedom “Operation Spirit.” Bonus points to anyone who knows the band.

That’s the plan, and I’m indebted to Prue for helping me to kick it off in style. Yesterday, while we were talking on the phone, I was telling her I wasn’t sure if I should spend the money to go to a yoga/spa retreat in Mexico for a week, and she basically reached through the phone – all the way from Texas – and started shaking me until I agreed to sign myself up. (Thanks Prue!) Because of Prue, in about 10 days I’m heading down to Tulum, Mexico for Bikini Boot Camp. Yep, that’s actually what it’s called. Beach, yoga, meditation, fresh fish and fruit, and 5 hours of physical activity a day, here I come.

It’s a fair amount of money, and it means that my savings will be temporarily depleted (particularly once I factor in the other activities I’m planning as part of Operation Spirit). But, I’m doing it anyway because it will be awesome, it will be good for me, and it’s worth it. My spirit is worth it. Money is something I can always earn again, but – as I learned over the course of the past 2 1/2 years – time is something I’ll never be able to get back. While I have both of them, I’m going to live it up. Innate cautiousness, be damned (but only for 8 weeks).

Give Me A "P"

“I have nothing to say of my working life, only that a tie is a noose, and inverted though it is, it will hang a man nonetheless if he’s not careful.” - Yann Martel, Life of Pi

I can’t believe this day has come, but it’s here and I’m incandescently happy. Today is the last Monday ever that I will spend at my firm. I have only 5 more days and then I will be free for two whole months!!! All I have to do this week is clean out my office, send files to where they need to go, and trash everything else. The joy I feel at tossing red welds into the recycling bin is indescribable.

I’m almost done!!! I can’t believe it. Soon, this whole experience will be a distant blurry spot of grey on my personal time line.

Did I mention that I’m going to be off for two whole months? Bean’s baby is set to come smack in the middle of my time off, so planning is a little tricky. I’m planning to stay relatively close by until the baby is born, and may go on a short trip to a yoga/spa retreat. There seem to be a number of them in Mexico that look pretty awesome. I’m going to check out Yoga Journal for ideas later this afternoon. For anyone looking for something like that in Thailand, you should check out Sanctuary. I stayed there for a blissful week last year and had an incredibly relaxing experience. After the baby’s born, I’m going somewhere farther afield, most likely to South Asia.

Do y’all have any ideas, suggestions, or experiences with yoga/spa retreats? In the U.S. or elsewhere? I’m looking to rejuvenate, destress, detoxify, and mostly, to CHILL OUT.

Relaxation Maximization

My newest favorite thing is sending out my laundry to be cleaned. It’s pretty much the greatest thing ever. For a $1 a pound, not only does sending out my laundry save me hours of time that I could be using for something far more enjoyable – like sleeping, planning my upcoming vacation, catching up on my DVR-ed shows, or hanging out with my friends – but it also spares me from having to descend into the spooky depths of my apartment building’s basement. If you’ve seen the movie the Saw, you’ll know what I mean.

Within a two-block radius of where I live there are approximately a dozen laundry mats, 4 coffee shops, and 3 grocery stores; all of which makes taking care of errands very convenient. This morning, on my way to my second-to-last-Friday-of-work-ever, I dropped off all of my laundry. Walking back home tonight I picked up a shrink-wrapped rectangle of perfectly folded, fresh smelling clothes.

Could anything be more perfect? Happy Friday!