Slight Turn for the Wrong

Well, I should probably dust myself off and jump off the tired "Taken" shelf back onto the meat market's floor. In other words, I am giving this whole dating thing a try.... Oh Lord have mercy...

It's not like being in a long-distance quasi-relationship with Mr J ever cramped my style. But with him, I just sort of forgot about the male species. I let the hot men pass me by, content in the fact that I had what I wanted. I had Mr J to lust after. But I may not have realized (or did not want to believe) that it might have been troublesome from the start that I was pretty content in pining for the man hundreds of miles away and building a glass castle in the sky that finally came crumbling down.

And now that's I've dusted off the glass shards off my floor and the bruises have more-or-less healed, I feel like I am opening my eyes again and looking around. Could it be early spring in the air rubbing some of its post-Valentine's Day magic on me? Not yet... it is still much too cold out. It is something within me that is awakening. I have no freaking clue what it is but it feels very exciting and vaguely familiar.

Like that time when I actually considered myself single and acted upon my urges to go hit on hot guys. Don't get me wrong, I am looking for romance and unicorns, but if a hot dude comes around, I will be just as glad to do a little one-on-one tongue wrestling.

The last time I kissed a guy besides J... was a year and a half-ago... I think it's time.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Continue reading →

All My Life I've Been Good..

So Mr J are "on a break." And I'm thinking, what the hell?

I mean, I'm the first one to admit when I'm wrong. Okay, okay, maybe not the first one, but, within all the reasonable bounds, I can admit with some reluctance when I need to modify my behavior or apologize to a person when I, intentionally or unintentionally, offend them.

But with Mr. J, I am totally the one who is pretty much always right.

And throughout this entire relationship, I've been fairly good and well-behaved. Despite us living hundreds of miles apart, I have not once drunkenly made out with anyone at a bar. I have compromised my values more than once just to not start any fights with J. I have been willing to stick it out with him through thick and thin, even when my friends rolled their eyes and said "You're STILL with him? You can find a MUCH better guy for yourself."

And now he wants to be "on a break" because we fight too much (and who's fault exactly is that?!) and because he is "not sure if we can make it".

Man, I just don't think that I am the one in this relationship who deserves to be put on hold and told that my presence in his life has been stressing him out lately.

I've been good. I've been really good, damn it. But right now, quite frankly, I feel like cheating on him with a gorgeous lawyer that I could meet at a bar on any given night.

And normally, I am not the one for having and condoning these types of thoughts: "Cheating is never okay.. blah blah blah..." But the truth of the matter is, I have been so good lately, that it's pretty exciting to think bad thoughts. I do not feel appreciated. I will be spending yet another Valentine's Day without a freaking gift or a hint of acknowledgment. I feel like I could use a sexy distraction.

Mr J better watch out because his self-imposed "break" on our relationship just might become a permanent one.

Continue reading →

Trabajando

80 hour weeks leave me no time to sleep, let alone update my blog.
Leave me no time for love life, if I were to have one.

But this weekend I get to buy myself a fabulous new pair of Marc Jacobs shades.
And really, that fact alone makes up for all the late nights at the office...

Continue reading →

Holiday Magic

First of all, Merry Christmas! The holiday season is upon us and, despite some dramatic and traumatic moments with our family at the dinner table, tis good to slow down for a moment and reflect on another year that has passed us so quickly.

Second of all, y'all have a permission to slap me across my face and call me stupid. Why, you ask? It's really simple. I did something that I might advise others against doing. I knew very well that I might regret my moment of weakness later on, but I followed my heart, and did not listen to my head, regardless.

See, I just can't seem to cut myself off from Mr. J.

Is this how drug addicts feel, when their crack pipe is taken away? I know, I certainly was having mad withdrawals from not talking to the dude, from not being able to tell him about my day, even from all the fighting that we've been doing. I tried not responding to him, I tried telling him that I was done for good. I told him that our relationship was not working, that there were too many fights and arguments to keep this thing going. I really thought I was well on my way to starting a new chapter of my life.

But a few weeks ago, after one of our epic fights, after I deleted him as a friend on Facebook, got rid of his number, blocked his text messages... I started talking to him again.

I know, I know... I have no right to complain if anything goes wrong now, do I? I mean, it's like the presidential election - if we don't vote, we have no right to be pissed off about the president.

It was kind of like that. I said to myself, okay, I am just going to give Mr J another (yet another) shot, and then if things go sour, well, I just won't write about it on my blog. No one will ever hear my complaints.

But of course, I hoped for the best. Mr J said that he was going to come visit me a week before Christmas, and I thought, "I think this will be good. We will renew our romance and all the fighting will go away, at least for a while."

I said yes to him and I booked a lovely hotel downtown for four days, in anticipation of his arrival. That's another thing - everyone I prepare for his visit or every time I am flying/driving to visit him, I feel like a giddy little school girl and my stomach does all sorts of flips and turns. Butterflies all over the place. And... I was just not ready to give up that feeling. I couldn't bare to think that I could no longer allow myself to feel those things for Mr J. Cause I felt them, despite all the fighting and the breaking up. I felt them still.

His stay in Philly, as I predicted, was perfect. We went to restaurants, to my office Christmas party, to see the Christmas tree in Rittenhouse Square, to the Art Museum. We went shopping and he surprised me with the most beautiful necklace from Swarowski. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing and I was completely blown away with how he presented it to me.

I was trying on a jacket at Express and he came up from behind and said, "Do you think this necklace will go with your outfit?"

I didn't understand at first. I saw a necklace he held up again my neck and simply said, "Yeah, it's kind of cute." I was just not in the mood to buy a jacket AND a necklace in one day. It didn't even cross my mind that he bought it for me while I was trying on dresses in the fitting room.

But he said, "It's yours. I thought you'd look so pretty wearing it and I bought it. Do you like it?"

I gasped with excitement and joy, as if he was presenting me with an engagement ring.

"It's beautiful, J! You kiddin' me? I freaking LOVE it!"

Lots of hugs followed. In that moment, I had no shadow of regret for caving in and renewing my relationship with him. I can't tell you with certainty that I will never regret the decision or that I will never cry over him again. But I can say that this has been a magical holiday season thus far, and Mr J made it just so.

Happy holidays!

Continue reading →

You May Keep Your Picket Fence, Please

Would I settle for something boring and ordinary? I asked myself this question about my whole existence today, in the midst of doubts and worries about the future. Would I be okay with just settling or am I still searching for my purpose?

Back in August, I landed myself a contract job at a world renowned architecture firm that defies the boring and the ordinary. The principal of the firm was a power house of a human being in the 1960's and defined his own style, a style that proclaimed itself to be the antithesis to Le Corbusier's statement "Less is more." He and his wife changed the world of architecture in many ways, shook up the simplicity of Modernism and shocked many with their less-than-orthodox approach to architecture. Loud. Bold. Larger than life. He was and still is a man of a quiet demeanor, never too fond of his spotlight but, nevertheless, he was and still is an undisputed legend.

I am not comparing myself to the likes of his stature. Right now, I find myself elated just to be working in his presence and be able to say "Hi" to him every day as he infallibly, makes his rounds to greet all of his employees every morning. No, I am no legend, I ain't kidding myself.

But I also can't help but compare my lifetime aspirations to what this man, the legend, has been able to achieve. I only hope to take the route less conventional but the route that makes me exuberantly happy, the way his life path made him.

My Ex of some years ago settled for a boring life. And I am not saying it with any malicious undertones and, well, maybe with just a slight hint of elitism that we all inherit after we leave our former lovers to pursue the greener pastures. But he settled for a boring and ordinary life, a boring and ordinary house, a boring and ordinary profession and, if I may, a boring and ordinary fiance.... I swear I could fall asleep from my lack of interest just writing this paragraph.

It's all fine and good in my book. This boring and ordinary deal. After all, sometimes I strive for some good ol' boring balance in my life, but I fear I would get restless in my boring and ordinary house with some boring and ordinary dude. I don't particularly want to conform to someone's else's definition of the American Dream. Why, that would just be a cop out.

I may be still building my version of a brick house with a white picket fence, but, you better believe it, when it's completed it will be anything but boring and ordinary.

Continue reading →

The End

You know it really is over, when your heart hurts the most.

I have felt this pain only a few times in my life... but I am afraid to admit, that this pain lasted me more than a few months. I have to remember how strong I was during those fragile months and keep on with all my gathered strength... I have to keep on and know and believe that one day, everything really does get better.

What I am driving at is...

Mr J and I, however on and off that relationship has been for the last two years, are done for good. I deleted him from my phone, facebook, blackberry messenger, Skype. Anything that I could have possibly done, I did.

You see, he was supposed to come and visit me in less than three weeks but, in true Mr J's fashion he started saying things like "I don't know if I should come.. it might be too painful not knowing when I am going to see you again..." Blah blah, fucking blah

For a few minutes, I tried to convince him that he should come. That no matter what our future holds for us, we should treasure the few and far moments of togetherness and just hope for the best.

But am I supposed to even try to convince him?

I couldn't help but keep crying as I went through all my technological outlets of contacting him. Do you know how fucking bad it hurts? This pain is far too familiar but, I'll be damned, I forgot just how raw it feels.

I am right here, in that moment that everyone who's ever been in a relationship dreads. I've got my mascara running down both cheeks. I am sitting here and wondering "What if." What if I could have said anything differently. What if I could have convinced him somehow. What if...

But, at some point, there are no more what ifs in the game of love. You either try or you don't. He, by saying that he doesn't want to come see me any more, stopped trying. And I, by removing his name from my life, ended it once and for all.

I am strong in my utmost fragility. I will persevere. Love, however important it might be, does not define me, nor does it complete me. I will survive.

But for now I just want to have my moment and cry a little bit in complete silence, before anyone sees me crumble. After all is said and done, I'd rather have loved and lost, than not loved at all.

Continue reading →

To Tan or Not to Tan

I now am back to living at a very close proximity to Jersey - the home of the Snooki poofs, padded bras, long nails in all shades of neon and, yes, bright orange tans. And while I know that I am not the most fair-skinned white girl out there, I definitely enjoy avoiding having my skin appear to be bluish or greenish in tone, especially on those days when I get less than a required amount of sleep. Or those days when I am painfully hungover, when my skin pretty much decides to turn gray.

For those three years that I lived in Cincinnati, I was a paying member of a tanning establishment but my trips to the cancer beds were few and far in between. Mostly, I would go and tan after a rough week of exams and final critiques, when I would feel the need to just treat myself to some pampering and/or when I would see the need when I looked in a mirror and saw a zombie-looking flesh glaring back at me.

Now back in Philadelphia, I am feeling... and, don't laugh... but I am feeling like I am under so much peer pressure to tan more. For example, this week... I went tanning twice, but I went two days in a row - which I had never done before! And on the radio, just the other day, I heard a Hollywood Tan ad where the voice proclaimed, however erroneous the claim might have been, that a "healthy glow" makes you look 150% more attractive. Now, that's a WHOLE lot of attractive!

I know it's not the healthiest thing that I could do to my body, but it really does appear to take away the slight black semi-circles from all those restless nights right from under my eyes. I am feeling the burn, but my skin has acquired that healthy glow that everyone seems to rave about so much. My face looks fresh, my body looks like it's been kissed by the loving rays of sun and, ultimately, I can't help but admit that I've gained an additional level of confidence.

The frequent urge to tan is also coming in handy as of late. Like, tonight I am going to this Singles Party - an event that I, inadvertently, assigned myself to when I won the VIP passes for myself and a friend by calling into a local radio station at just the right minute. And, I gots to say, I feel like my tan is giving me that edge, that... je ne sais quoi... and I feel like I'm gonna be a bit of an It girl at this singles soiree. An It girl in all ways but bad, I hope.

I must add that I am still a long way from looking orange. And, I know, I know... the bottom line is that tanning causes cancer... I'll limit myself to one tan a week. Deal?

Continue reading →