Sad Realizations and Why I Love My Dog

I went home this weekend to see my sister in her first school play. She was really good. She didn't worry about "getting into character" or figuring out her "given circumstances." She just got up there and performed...I miss the innocence of children's theatre.

Anyway, through a complicated story, I ended up spending Saturday night at The Boy I Kissed's house. We had a great day. Ate, talked, watched TV, played Trivial Pursuit, ate some more. And yes, we hooked up again..still no sex, thank goodness. This time it was more tumultuous...it hurt a little more that we weren't going to see if this could be something. It ended well enough...we'll be fine.

This morning I was looking at myself in my bathroom mirror and thinking about TBIK. I realized what it is about him that I dig so much. I don't think I'm going to do a good job explaining it, but it's important, so I'll try.

He's the kind of person that you would write off on first glance. He's self-deprecating, kinda nerdy, not traditionally handsome, somewhat shy. However, when you get to know him, he is incredibly funny, interesting and interested, opinionated, passionate.

But the thing I dig about him is the way he sees me. When he looks at me, he's looking at me. He's not looking at my breasts, or wondering when he can see me naked. And even when he did see me naked he still looked at me...in my eyes. He had a look that I recognized as one I've given to more guys than I care to admit. It was a look of connection.

TBIK and I aren't on the same page in our lives for us to be together...love is 50% timing...and we do work very well as friends. But I haven't seen that look in a man's eyes since I was 17 and was looking in the eyes of my first love. I'm 31 now...you do the math. I came to this conclusion this morning in my bathroom and I immediately started to cry. I cried again on the subway as I wrote it down in my journal. I'm crying now as I write it here. I have gone through my adult life searching for a man who will look at me the way TBIK did Saturday night. How depressing.

But...

As I started crying in my bathroom, Ella walked out of the bedroom and walked right up to me. She just looked at me and tilted her head to the side the way she does when she's being inquisitive. I patted her on the head and told her I'm okay. She licked my leg once and trotted back into the bedroom. I had another realization then...I experience love with Ella in a way that I have never experienced it before. I am grateful for that.

Grey's Anatomy is Seeping into My Brain!

I love this show...especially this season. It is good television. I don't know if I would love it if it was a novel, or a play, or a movie...but it makes damn good television. I tell people that I haven't seen television this good since Barbara Walters' interview with Monica Lewinsky...and that was in 1999!

Anyway, that's not the point of this post. My little brother got me a $15 iTunes gift card for Christmas that I had yet to redeem. Yesterday, I decided to buy an album and I wanted music that I wouldn't normally purchase. I've had a string of good luck recently by expanding my musical collection...I bought Jack Johnson's first album for $10 and I love it. So I'm cruising on iTunes and come across Imogen Heap. I discover that she is part of the group Frou Frou, whose song from the Garden State soundtrack I downloaded. I listen to snippets from a couple of her songs and they are different, but oddly familiar. So I buy the album. I download it to my nano and head home.

It must have been while the subway was heading into Brooklyn that I realized why I dig this music that I barely know...it's because it's the type of music Grey's Anatomy uses! Just listen to the theme song and listen to an Imogen track...it's uncanny! So not only is Grey's Anatomy damn good television...it's also a form of mind control.

Ah well...I have to watch this Sunday because Melissa needs me to recap it for her, so I guess Big Sister - Shonda Rhimes, the creator of the show - will have her way with me for one more week.

My Angry Black Woman Moment

Staff meetings make me angry. It's not like they are super long and they aren't a waste of time, but for some reason I dread going to them and I leave them feeling irate. This time I came back to my office and thought about why I hate the meetings so much and why I am so angry afterwards.

What I've come up with is that the staff meetings highlight that I am the only black person on the staff, and one of two women. I am the only woman that is not in an administrator support position. What's worse...everyone else is a white male. And there is such a comraderie between them that they don't even try to include anyone else in on.

For instance, the head of my department said that he and I need to set up a meeting in his office to do my yearly review. He then told two other bigwigs that he could do their review over a beer...since they were already friends. Hmmmm....I wonder who's going to get one of those very rare merit raises this year? I have to say, I don't think I'm necessarily in the running this year regardless, but it just sucks that the director flaunts his favoritism so blatantly.

I Got the Skillz That Pay the Billz

Finally! Owning my own apartment is paying off. Yeah, yeah, yeah...that feeling of owning and creating your own space is magnificent, and yeah...the idea that I'm building equity in my future and not someone else's is cool and all. BUT the real advantage of owning property is the refund you get back come tax time from paying all that damn interest!

I actually did my taxes already I was so anxious to get my tax refund...gotta love TurboTax. Now that it's been direct deposited into my account, it's taken all of my energy not to splurge on bras at Victoria's Secret and shoes at DSW. I did indulge slightly at DSW, but other than that, I've been really good. The only way I've been able to be so good is to hurry up and pay a bunch of bills. I've knocked out some doozies...ones that would only get partial payments or none at all because they were so daunting. It's scary to see my bank balance go down, but I know the money is going to a good cause...namely, maintaining a decent credit rating. Now I'm going to let my account cool down a little. I want to keep some in the bank so I can practice living with a cushion. Wish me luck!

Tainted Memories

My Valentine's Day was pretty uneventful. I read the Hollywood issue of Vanity Fair and went to bed early. But around four am the next morning, I woke to the sound of a man and a woman screaming at the top of their lungs. They were clearly in the middle of a huge fight...one that had started long before. I don't know how far apart they were standing, but they were yelling like they were miles away from each other. Even with the distance, you could tell the fight was very intimate. He said things like, I asked you to do ONE thing! She said things like, It's NEVER just ONE thing! I went to the window to see if I could see anything and to make sure I was a witness if it got violent. The dude eventually yelled, I'm f*cking outta here! and got in his car and drove off...fast. She walked into her building in tears.

My heart broke a little after it was all over. Because all I could think was...there goes the memory of their Valentine's Day. From now on, they will never be able to think of this day without thinking of this horrible fight. Not only was their V-Day ruined, but the memory of their V-Day is ruined. Part of what makes a relationship is the collection of shared experiences and memories, is it not?

I know about ruined memories all too well. There are a plethora of memories that should be wonderful, but are tainted by fights Ex and I had. I can't think about my friend Masha's wedding without thinking about how Ex sulked and didn't speak to me the entire time because we had fought on the way there. My first Christmas away from my family and on a vacation is a memory that is littered with fights. My 29th birthday memory is ruined by the screaming match we had on the way to a friend's house for dinner.

I felt deep sympathy for that couple. I actually got a bit of deja vu listening to them go at it. And I knew they didn't know how bad it would be. Because the tainted memory can be worse than the moment that taints it.

The Whole Blog Thing V

How well do you know someone from their blog? If you enjoy reading about him/her, would you necessarily enjoying meeting him/her? I've been pondering this for a while. Melissa is moving back to Brooklyn soon...I live in Brooklyn now. She knows the Artist Formerly Known as K Lance...so do I. I like reading her blog...she likes reading mine. You would think that this would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I would like to meet her and The Man. But maybe the allure only exists in cyberspace. Maybe we are different people in real life, people who think the other is boring. Maybe that's what makes our blogs interesting. We aren't lying persay...but portraying a different aspect of ourselves. Or maybe I'm just talking about me. I get the sense Melissa is true to herself no matter where she is.

I believe I'm being honest here at She is Able..., but my friend who's been blogging for two years often talks about how bloggers will post what they think they should write or how they would like to be portrayed, as opposed to how they really are. I wonder if I do that. And if I do, does that mean that Melissa won't like me if we were to meet up once she moves back here?

Perhaps I'll offer to help her carry boxes then watch "CSI" and "Without a Trace" together...that should work.

Vacation...Had to Get Away

I just purchased my plane ticket to the Dominican Republic. That's right...I'm going on vacation! I am definitely due. I haven't been anywhere in almost a year...I can't believe my trip to Argentina was a year ago. My sister is spending her semester abroad there and I swore to her that if I was feeling better then I would come for a visit. So I'm flying into Santiago, exploring the city with her for a day or two, then we're headed to the North Coast to chill by the beach. I leave in a month...it's going to be great.

On another front, it's only been two days since the Boy I Kissed left town and we have already spoken more times than we usually do in a week. He knows that I'm heading into his city for a family event and he said to me tonight, "Make sure you tell me when you're coming." Interesting...I have to admit I have been thinking about him with a smile, but I'm not holding my breath. Tune in next time...

I Kissed a Boy

Not just any boy, mind you, but a friend of mine. He's staying with me because he's meeting with professors at the school he wants to get his Ph.d. from. He flew in Friday night and we stayed up until three am watching all the "Boondocks" episodes he taped for me. LOVE that show! We were just starting to say goodnight when I leaned in and kissed him. It was a messy kiss and somewhat awkward, but I really wanted to kiss him. After he told me how shocked he was that I would do something like that, we ended up kissing some more and doing some heavy petting. The kissing improved, but it remained pretty tame...no clothes came off. It was cute and fun. We agreed the next morning that since we didn't really know what was going on, we should cool it.

Saturday night he spent with another friend of his. We weren't supposed to see each other until tonight, but he ended up coming back to my place on Sunday in the middle of the blizzard. We drank hot chocolate, watch Bowfinger...LOVE that movie! and hung out. Then we drank wine and saw the best episode of "Grey's Anatomy" EVER! Plantonicness...I know it's not a word...went out the window as the last drop of wine was drunk. We did a lot more than heavy petting last night, but still kept it pretty tame.

So today is a new day. We still don't know what's going on, but it sure is a lot of fun. Here are things I'm proud of myself about:

1. I didn't have sex with him. Usually when I'm in a physical situation with a dude, it's easier for me to pretend that we have a connection, sleep with him, and deal with the reality of it later. I would rather not be faced with the fact that he only wants me for my breasts right in the moment. This time, I stopped us precisely to ask what was going on in his head. When he didn't have a answer, I put the kabosh on going any further, lest my feelings get hurt.

2. I am still desirable. It's been a while since I've been concerned about what men think of me. But I have to admit, it does feel good to have a guy say "You are so beautiful" over and over. I thought I had lost my mojo.

3. I articulated what I wanted. I'm very vocal, but not articulate, in the bedroom. When a guy isn't doing something right, I just try to distract him so he'll stop. This time, I actually gave specific directions. It felt good to do that...in more ways than one. ;)

4. I'm attracted to this guy and he is not my type at all. He is in no way similar to the type of guy I'm usually drawn into. But we laugh a lot, talk a lot and he has the sexiest voice I've ever heard. I'm glad I'm not falling into the same ole pattern, lest my psyche gets hurt.

I think that when he leaves tomorrow, that will be the end of our "romance." I don't want our friendship to get screwed up and we're both too confused to ensure that it doesn't. He also lives in a different city, which makes it easier to let this weekend fade into a fond memory. It's been a fun weekend, but now I need time to figure out what the hell just happened.

Five Weird Things

This is way overdue, but here are five weird things about me.

1. My hair thing. I hate hair. Unless it's attached to a body, I want nothing to do with it. I can't stand hair in the shower or loose hair on the floor. Even if it's my own, I can't touch it. I have to wash it down the drain with the shower head or use a paper towel to pick it up.

2. My career thing. I believe that I am the most successful at being a camp counselor. For many years, I was a counselor at the camp I went to as a camper. I was damn good at it, too. When I think about chucking my life, I dream of working for a camp year round.

3. My cheese thing. On the whole I don't like cheese of any kind...with the following exceptions: baked macaroni and cheese, Mexican food, chicken sandwiches with bacon, cheddar and honey mustard, and pizza. But I can't eat a cheeseburger, or a cold sandwich with cheese. I can't eat cheese and crackers and I can't eat cheese on a salad.

4. My interpretive dancing thing. When I'm really stressed out or just really love a song, I will play it over and over and choreograph a dance routine for it. I will envision myself on a stage in full costume with a number of other dancers...it depends on the song...all dancing my steps to whatever song I'm obsessed with.

5. My bread-and-butter thing. Every time I walk with someone and we happen to walk on either side of a pole, fire hydrant, tree, etc., I have to say "bread and butter." I think I got it from my mom. The uncanny thing is that I say it without really thinking about it. So I can be in the middle of a sentence, split a pole, say "bread and butter," and continue with the rest of the sentence. I do it so often that friends will go out of their way not to split a pole.

Coolness!

My good friends know that one of the things I say all the time is: I heard on NPR... I listen to NPR a lot. I even make sure I'm at my desk at four pm every day so I can hear All Things Considered from the very beginning. So how cool did I feel yesterday when I heard a story about satirical movie trailers featuring...Shining! That's the trailer I pointed out a couple of posts ago. I know it's corny of me, but I feel cool that I am aware of something before NPR points it out.

Bad Day, Sad Day

Today I am writing from home because I woke up and knew I wasn't going to be able to handle the day. I was responsible...I emailed in sick and have been checking my emails all day. But it's one of those days where even Ella's hilarious self isn't cheering me up.

Why do you feel this way?, you ask. Well, looking back I think it's several reasons. The number 1 reason is that one of my best friends is leaving tomorrow for an amazing journey. She'll be gone until the end of March. I don't think words can express how happy I am for her. Life has been mean to her and she deserves this trip. This journey is also the manifestation of turning tragedy to triumph. It isn't my story, so I won't elaborate.

With all that said, I am profoundly blue that she is leaving. I cry every time I think about it...yup, I'm crying right now. I am going to miss her so much. I know that this is touching on some of my own abandonment issues and that's why I am feeling her absence so strongly, but knowing that doesn't make it hurt any less. We have been friends for over a third of our lives...and good friends at that. That's a long time when you're only 31 and went to eight different schools before college. We've been the kind of friends that wrote letters to each other when we lived in different cities. The kind of friends that have seen every single apartment we've lived in...in those different cities. The kind of friends that have difficult, tear-filled conversations when there is something amiss in our relationship. The kind of friends who know what "fish rubbings" is.

Everyone who knows this woman knows that there is one other woman in her life that is as close to her as a sister...maybe even closer. For that reason, I hesitated calling her my best friend for years. Didn't we girls learn in 8th grade that best friends are only best friends if it's reciprocal? But recently I decided that I love this woman so much that I don't care whether I'm her best friend. She has cared for me in ways no one else can and I trust her in ways I trust very few people. She makes me laugh so hard that I have to stop walking and double over. So she's one of my best friends, damn it! And I won't get to see her for quite a while for us...we usually talk several times a week. And I'm sad.

Yeah, there are some other peripheral things that are causing my blue state: the latent sexism that lives at my job, the fact that Ex's marriage to Her was absolutely confirmed to me yesterday, the messiness of my apartment. But I really think that I am just going to miss my friend.

P.S. The painting above is by an Iraqi artist named Wisam Rady. Look him up...his story is interesting.

The Power of the Media

The link I'm about to present to you is a prime example of how manipulative mass media can be. And it's funny I got sent this email today, because I was in line at the Duane Reade near my job looking at the covers of those celeb rags...you know, Us Weekly, Star, etc...and wondering what it might be like for those celebrities to read what is printed about them. It was a fleeting thought...I am not into celeb gossip that much.

Then I get this link. Can you imagine if you saw this and then went to see the film? Craziness...

And to all those that read on Spoke in the Wheel that I got tagged to name five weird things about me...don't fret. I'm working on it. It's hard to narrow it down to only five!

Gush

Okay...I can't hold it in any longer. I love Ella. Don't worry, I know it's not the same as being in love with a man. But I do...I love her. I already feel that I would do anything for her. I think about her when I'm not with her. I wonder what she's doing, if she's happy. I feel better when she's with me, even if I'm just running errands or posting on my blog.

These last few weeks have been so amazing because I've been in the process of learning about a new creature. Ella definitely has her own personality and as she becomes more comfortable with me, her personality comes through.

I've been hesitant to discuss my new discoveries with friends because I don't want to be one of those people who only talk about their pets or who think that everyone is as interested in my dog as I am. I hate parents who let their child act the fool because they believe everyone covets the child as much as they do. But this is my blog so I'm going to share. For those non-dog lovers, feel free to go to another blog until I post again. Ella and I won't be offended.

Things I'm Learning about Ella

1. She is very smart. She knows all the basic movement commands...sit, stay, lay down, up, etc....and she knows "water," "bone," "goodbye," and "poop."

2. Ella knows how to pose for the camera, but she doesn't like taking pictures. Everytime I try to take a picture of her in action, she stops what she's doing and stands in profile. When I put the camera away, she goes back to what she was doing.

3. She has a sweet tooth...especially for gum. She'll sniff and try and pick up gum on the sidewalk. I know...gross. Once, I actually caught her chewing gum. I stopped and made her open her mouth, but there was nothing there. We started walking and she started chomping again. I looked in her mouth again and found that she hid the gum under her tongue!

4. She likes potato chips a lot.

5. She looks at other dogs like they are aliens. She'll bark first and ask questions later. When we stop and let her interact with the dog in question, she looks at them like they are from another planet.

6. Her right hind leg doesn't like to be bent. When she squats to go to the bathroom, it slowly slides out to the side. It's funny to watch.

7. Ella LOVES to walk....anywhere. We walk for hours and she still wants to keep going. She enjoys exploring new places. She especially likes doorways with stairs. She'll walk up the stairs and sniff the door. When she's satisfied, she'll trot down the stairs and go to the next doorway.

8. When she's happy to see me, she rubs the sides of her face up against my hand. It's like she's giving me a hug.

9. She's not much of a lap dog. She's more of a "by your side" dog. She doesn't like to sit on my lap, she prefers to lay next to me.

10. After Ella goes #2, she sits, lifts her hind legs...think of a frog position...and slides her butt along the ground. But she doesn't tear up like someone I know! Tee hee!

Ahhhhh...I feel much better now. Thank you for reading.

Why I Love Ellen

I love that chick! Her show is funny, honest, interesting and it doesn't seem like she's trying to buy the love of her audience with presents like some shows...I won't name names because I believe there is an "O" Mafia that would hunt me down.

Anyway, the reason I love her today is because she was talking about how many of the Oscar nominees have been on her show. She said something like, "I thought I was using them, but they were actually using me to get nominated." Then she sang, "I ain't saying she a golddigger, but she ain't playin' with no broke-broke." With the whiplash dance move and everything! She so wants to be a black dude!

Oh...and don't ask me what I was doing at home at ten am when I should have been at work.

Sad Day for Women

First, I am told Wendy Wasserstein - one of the most famous female American playwrights of our generation - died of cancer way too young. Then I read that Coretta Scott King - a woman who put up with and stood for more than most women could even imagine as the wife of MLK Jr. - died. Then I hear that Samuel Alito - the man that makes all women scared for the sanctity of their uteruses - was confirmed as the next Supreme Court Justice.

January 31st was a sad day for women in this country.