To All The Boyz...

Check out my new tealight set. Doesn't get any more winter-y than this. I love my tealight holders! I could watch the reflected light dance multifacetedly all day. And I'll admit here i have quite an eye as a photographer - i'm really proud of how this shot turned out.

I expected the tealights to burn out in 20 to 30 minutes. The fuckers lasted for four hours. FOUR! I guess these days i don't expect happiness in any form to last nearly as long. (OK, "happiness" is a strong word.)

I used to deem lighting candles akin to burning money. I failed to understand the intrigue. JD turned me. Now flickering flames fascinate me. I feel in touch with nature's unpredictable, dangerous forces. And i swear the room warms up by at least 5°.

I conclude that with each relationship you take away something. With York II it's scrambled eggs with oregano. I've tried it twice now. So simple, yet so addictive!

Granted, there are more profound things than candles and eggs, but it's true someone just doesn't always know how they've touched your life. Altered it irreversibly.

I don't regret crossing paths with individuals i've come across by pure chance. I have definitely taken away more than means of illumination and herbs to add to a hen's ovarian discharge.

All Is Fair In Love... & OTC Drug Usage

The last day i was in Minnesota, I could already feel that i was coming down with something. Last night, in the name of killing germs (among other excuses), i downed a lot of alcohol.

In the morning I still woke up with a sore throat. It hurt to swallow. (There's a dirty joke in there somewhere.)

So after a day of scratchy throat and chest congestion at work, i finally succumbed to making a trip to Rite-aid to get Vicks 44M, which comes highly recommended by my brother W, who had really sensitive tonsils growing up. He's the expert on coughing, if ever there is such a thing.

There's no non-drowsy formula available. Oh well, i guess i'm just gonna have to make do with the high-alcohol-content version. Ha-ha.

Upon reading the label, i came across this warning:

If you consume 3 or more alcoholic drinks every day, ask you doctor... Acetaminophen may cause liver damage.

Oh, you mean, as opposed to using alcohol alone, whereof the liver damage caused is infinitesimal?

Gobble It Up!

There it is. The world' largest gingerbread house. It's at Mall of America in Minnesota, out of all places.

When i told coworkers i was going to Minnesota for Thanksgiving, people frowned and grimaced. Why Minnesota? Who in their right mind would choose to go there? Their reaction suggested.

I got to spend some time with relatives and friends. Family not related by blood who welcomed me in their home anyway, and showed me a good time. The next day I got to take a cab, feeling all city-girly (in California, it'd be called "tourist without a rental"), and i actually had a lively chat with the Nigerian driver.

In addition, i got to explore the night scene of Minneapolis for the first time. It's really a cool place, i have to say. Compared to the hole it was 13 years ago when i visited for the first time, the place has really boomed. You see manifestations of globalization everywhere. Seriously, they did NOT have sushi back then. And i had to be grateful for the "heat wave" they'd been having - during daytime we'd actually hit the 40's.

Best of all, i got to know my cousins a little better as adults. They are really cool people. We had such a good time just goofing and chatting. I actually started to take in the infectious holiday cheer.

Actually, come to think of it, the best aspect was that i didn't have to endure a night of sobriety.

Given, by the day i had to fly back home, i was anxiety-ridden and not there at all.

When i got home, Sweet Jesus, there was a whole bunch of email waiting for me, from people i actually want to hear from, god bless their hearts. Including York II. I guess the holiday spirits of forgiveness and generosity got to him.

I'm glad he wrote. For Lord knows i would've never had closure.

And now i shall indulge in 4 hours of taped TV shows and Netflix films. Life is good.

Midway...

When i blogged about my outting last Friday, i wrote that i'd wondered what Rob might be doing that night.

I hadn't wondered about JD. I thought i knew exactly what he was doing on a Friday night.

Turned out JD is not as predictable as i thought after all. He'd gone out with that girl on a second date. They had a roll in the hay in his SUV.

Well, i'm sure the vehicle was free of dried vegetation, but you know what i mean.

I'd be lying if i said learning this didn't bother me. It's not so much the sex. It's just the knowledge of him trying to make things work with someone else. How could he, when what we had was close to perfect?

Näiveté breeds arrogance. Together they try to outweigh reason on my mental seesaw. Low self-esteem used to be where reason sits. Now it just lurks in the background, waiting for its turn.

After giving JD a ride to the airport at 5 this morning, i started missing him again. I mean, i always miss him to one degree or another, but this could lead to heartache again. I'd told him the previous night that he was my curse. I can't shake him.

I told myself i can't go thru the motions again. I simply cannot handle the turmoil that always follows.

And then he called during his layover in Chicago. Even though i missed the call, that made things better. It made braving the workday with two hours of sleep under my belt worthwhile. I'm that easy.

A Stolen Moment

Today everyone at work was asking if i was ready for my trip to Minnesota. I probably wasn't as psyched as they'd hoped.

"I haven't packed a thing," i lamented in my zombie-esque state.

Course, in my head Lt. Kaffee is stating in court, referring to Pfc. Santiago, "Yet he hadn't called a soul... He hadn't packed a thing..."*

This scene is priceless to JD and me due to Tom Cruise's unique, stylistic acting. I smiled inside.


*A Few Good Men

The Stars Yet Wave

I was watching my previously recorded Law & Order when I had to take a snack break. It happened to be on TV the preface of the NASCAR Nextel Cup in Homestead, Florida.

Some guy sings the national anthem at the event commencement. I didn't know they do that at car racing openings. There was something about the man's voice that so deeply touched me that i was a little choked up. (Actually, hearing The Star-Spangled Banner always gets me a little emotional.)

Must be some poor sap who couldn't make it in show biz, i thought.

Then i stepped out of my kitchen to take a peek. It was Taylor Hicks.

"Do I Make You Proud?" He has descanted.

The answer is a resounding yes, Taylor.

Frontline

Rebecca Traister recently wrote a really empowering article for Glamour (I know, sounds like an oxymoron) on how women should stop obsessing over snatching a man and start enjoying singlehood now.

A friend of Traister in her thirties who's been around the online dating block informs her that all the men who initiate contact with her are in their forties. So their you go. It is true: men want women at least a decade their junior.

I can vouch to that. The online dating scene is slim pickin's these days. In the holiday season, though, I suspect there'll be a lot more exchange between those in a craze to score a date so they'll have someone to kiss at midnight on New Year's. Me, i won't hold my breath.

TGIF... Can I Go Now?

Matt was nicer today.

"Gonna party tonight?" He asked.

Planning to go to my online networking thing (aka happy hour with strangers), i replied cheerily, "Kinda! You?"

"I'm gonna clean my house," said Matt. "Well, actually, i'm gonna finish cleaning it."

"I don't start what i can't finish," i responded. "That's a good excuse for never cleaning."

Later, Matt enthusiastically informed us of the Christmas party we're gonna be having this year.

"What about New Year's?" I joyfully inquired. "Are we doing anything?"

"She just likes all the holidays that allow drinking," Matt quipped, addressing JF my coworker, and grinned.

If i didn't have to answer a call right then and there, i would've said:

You think i need an occasion to drink? Think again!

I had to work an hour overtime, so by the time i took off from work i was quite achy and exhausted. I pondered bailing on the happy hour commitment, but i really, really didn't want to drink alone.

As i drove there i felt anything but social.

I ran into the girl i met in group therapy who introduced me to this whole networking thing to begin with. I hadn't been to group since then, so it was kinda awkward. I felt like i was encroaching on her territory. And now she knew it. And from her expression, i could tell she was uneasy too.

But after a few drinks, we chatted like we'd never met before, and neither of us had a psychiatrist.

I had a few laughs; there were some funny people present. But i couldn't help but notice that i had my arms crossed all through the night.

There was this heated debate on whether TiVo or a DVR was better suited for the lifestyle today. Satellite or cable? That's another head-scratcher. Five minutes later, someone pointed out that i'd been "quiet, so [I]must not be into TV".

Haven't you read my profile? I watch two shows. Two. I think my VCR will suffice.

And besides, whatever happened to watching a show at the time it is actually on?

It's true what JD has said. The more we worry about hiding our true selves, the more stupid we come across as. I totally misspoke in more than one instance, and cracked jokes that weren't funny to anyone.

This former DJ in the group had just recently realized that music from the 80's were now "oldies". "That's it," he proclaimed. "We are now officially old."

"Now?" I rhetorically responded in sarcasm. It was as if no one heard me.

It was much easier just talking to Rob one-on-one last Friday. Must be a bipolar alcoholic thing. I wondered what Rob was doing tonight.

I wanted to leave by 8 p.m., but i didn't want to draw attention to myself by being the first one to get up and bid farewell.

To make matters worse, we had to each smile to the videocam and wish someone a happy birthday - someone i had never met. I hate that kind of shit. I can barely do it for someone i do know.

I just really wanted to go home. I almost dashed out, but this guy was in my way. So i went, "Hey, see you at the [i name the event]." He was like, "Oh... i'm not sure..." Chill, dude. I was just being polite.

By the time i got home, because of the hiatus in drinks flow, i was stuck in the purgatory between hunger and nausea. But... nothing that a few sips of wine can't fix.

Who's Your Daddy

My co-departmentee JF has her boombox set on a country station at our office. I wasn't thrilled at first, but i warmed up to it. Before i knew it, i was humming to them honky tonk tunes.

There's this song, "I Loved Her First" by Heartland. I could barely hear the lyrics from where i sat, but what i could make out i liked. They were quite touching.

I was enough for her not too long ago...
And she still means the world to me...
A place in my heart will always be hers...

I finally downloaded the song tonight. As i listened to it in its entirety, i realized it's not about letting go of an ex-lover at all. Rather, it's a father's hymn to his daughter. The realization made me feel like a dirty perv.

From the first breath she breathed
When she first smiled at me...
... It's still hard to give her away

I'm reminded of "Butterfly Kisses" by Bob Carlisle from ten years ago. Impactful stuff.

My Dad really liked JD. During one of my visits when i was dating JD, my Dad shared that he had envisioned walking me down the aisle, many times.

I was all choked up.

It may never happen, Dad.

I put the song on repeat play. I'm moved to tears. Except i can't cry. Thanks to these mood stabilizers i'm on. It's like being emotionally constipated. Well, at least i can stop taking those pills at any time. For some, there's no laxative.

There Goes My Good Name...

Drinks with coworkers last Friday proved detrimental to my public image.

Three days in a row, Matt made stupid jokes about how nightly drinking impedes one's ability to perform at their peak all day. Oh, like you're so perfect, Mr. I-Wear-Ralph-Lauren-Shirts-Everyday-So-I-Must-Be-Important. Like you knew what BCC stands for before you asked me last Friday. Fuckhead.

At the sports bar Matt had cheerily informed us that you're not an alcoholic unless it is a problem.

"Define 'problem'", i responded, and cackled.

It's starting to be obvious that Matt is one of those holier-than-thou people on a high horse, believing he's better than the rest of us. I've decided that i hate him.

Rob says hating someone takes too much energy and is not worth it. Probably true. Hate is an emotion, and as long as you still have an emotion toward someone, you're not free.

The other day, Damon* the district sales supervisor, who was also at the crime scene on Friday, came in our store. I was at a terminal on the floor processing a payment. I had my water bottle in the vicinity.

"Ah," said Damon after we exchanged pleasantries. "Having water for a change, huh?"

What the...? Mr. Beer-Tower-Only-Holds-Two-Pints-Of-Harp!

Rob and i had some heart-to-heart chats today. Rob is actually quite kind, genuine, and witty. I think boundaries have become blurred as we continue kidding around daily.

Toward the end of the day, I confided in Rob that it bothered me that both Matt and Damon had been insinuating that i drank entirely too much.

"You have a few drinks with these guys for one night," I grumbled. "And all of a sudden you're a drunk?"

I expressed that they had no right to assume either way. Even though, of course, i am a drunk. But i didn't say that to Rob. And they didn't know that. It was unfair.

Perhaps it wouldn't have bothered me one tiny bit if i really wasn't a drunk. There was more guilt and shame than i could handle.

I'm reminded of how uncomfortable JD often feels about the whole firm knowing about his struggle with alcohol abuse. I didn't understand before. Now i relate. Once it's out in the open, there's no turning back. It will always be on the table. You may be able to salvage your reputation, but there are always gonna be people who are gonna judge. Judge they will, indeed.

Around noon, when Rob and i and two other girls went to lunch, he joked that he couldn't stop at one beer. We laughed in camaraderie.

Rob still stresses that he doesn't drink every night. This afternoon he claims he hasn't had a drink in three nights. Quite frankly, Rob, i don't care. It's becoming more and more clear as daylight to me that only a bipolar alcoholic could possibly like another bipolar alcoholic. It's a law of nature that refuses to be violated.

Case in point: Last night JD and i talked on the phone until i had one bar left charged, again. I'm not a phone person, like, at all. But for some reason JD and i just never run out of things to talk about.

Tonight I could've gone to happy hour with my online friends, but instead i stopped at a bakery to order a cake for my nephew AC's birthday on Saturday. He's turning two. There are few things in the world to make me gladly forego happy hour, but AC is certainly one of them. Drunk or sober, at least i have a heart, guys. So why don't you pick on someone with more than one vice.


*Not his real name

Recap...

Sadness seeps in.

Last Friday i went out for drinks with coworkers. I'd kept joking with Rob whenever he'd casually mention drinking, and finally he said, "OK, I'll take you out." I thought, okay, i really wanted Matt to ask me out, but communal drinking is always welcome. Strangely, the next day, Matt said he'd take me to lunch sometime. It was then Rob chimed in to confirm our night-out arrangement, and invited Matt along.

"Sure," Matt shrugged without a smile.

Sometimes, when Matt gazes at you without smiling, grilling you with questions, it is as though he can peer into your soul.

By Thursday i contemplated backing out. I imagined i'd probably get pretty hammered, and say something inappropriate, and/or do something i'd regret.

But i stuck with it. I really wanted to see how things might turn out.

You know how when you have a crush on somebody you think, "If only i'd have a moment alone with them... Then they'd fall for me."

Nonsense.

Matt turned out to be a giant dick. He totally surveyed the scene, making crude comments on waitresses and mutual acquaintances alike. Since it is my reflex to fit in, i remarked on the server's décolletage, and added my usual line, "Hey, i can appreciate beauty in all forms."

Grinning, Matt came up with a witty response that ended with "I'd like to watch".

Matt bailed early. The last thing he said was that i was "the consummate bookkeeper". Not exactly what sells like hotcakes on your dating résumé. Rob informed me that Matt's type was blonde, with a nice rack. I guess i'm not it.

Eventually the other guys left too, and it was just me and Rob.

"So, uh," i asked. "How long have you been married?" My boss Mildred had told me that Rob's wife was her best friend.

"I'm not married," said Rob. "Kelly* and I have an open relationship."

All of a sudden i thought, uh oh.

The pieces were coming all together now. What with Rob asking me if i had a type, what kind of music i liked, why it didn't work out with my XBF...

Oh, boy.

But by then i was just really grateful to have someone to talk to. A bipolar alcoholic, no less. And truth be told, i just didn't want to go home and drink alone. Not on a Friday night.

And Rob was funny. We did have a few things in common. We had a good talk.

And he bought most of my drinks. He was... nice. He worried if i could drive myself home.

Turned out i drove drunk a lot better than i gave myself credit for. Brava!

When i woke up Saturday morning, it seemed pretty obvious that Rob liked me. That way. And i was a little grossed out and regretful at the same time. I guess i did have a type, and he was not it. Had i been leading him on??

I started dreading Monday when i'd have to face both Rob and Matt again. I did recall slurring my words right before Matt left. Even though i was tipsy, i could tell Matt was not into drunks.

Saturday night. I thought i was gonna take it easy for a change. By midday i could not stand the thought of sitting home alone that night. I wound up going out with Denisse. She doesn't seem to mind last-minute arrangements.

She saves me from making booty calls to York II, god bless her heart.

JD called me whilst Denisse and i were sitting at a bar. He said he needed to know that i was out and about, "amongst people". Thank goodness i didn't let him down.

That night JD and i wound up chatting for about 4 hours. There is absolutely nobody else in the entire world i could do that with.

Which makes me sad.

On top of it all, JD was going on a date Sunday night.

Today went okay after all. I thought it was gonna be awkward at first, but i eased up by the p.m.

Rob winked at me at some point, after cracking some clever joke.

Matt subtly mocked me for misspeaking semantically. Worse part: i didn't realize till 5 minutes later. He was already gone. Oh yeah? Let me hear you spell "comsummate". Judgmental prick.

Rob dropped in. "It's 3:30 p.m. and all things are well, huh?"

"If not, they soon will be," i replied.

We laughed.

All of sudden it wasn't so bad that Rob liked me. He understands, and doesn't judge me. After all, it's not everyday you meet a fellow bipolar alchoholic.

Perhaps i read too much into his affinity. Perhaps i worry too much. Not like he's even made a move.

JD said he'd call on Sunday. I knew better than to expect him to remember his promise, but still i was slightly saddened.

Tonight i cracked open a bottle of Chardonnay. I haven't had wine since York II. White wine resembles good memories... more of JD though. Back when we'd have pasta together and get really, really wasted.

Wine goes straight to my head. I relish the sadness that seeps in. Bring it on, i say. Bring it on.


*Not her real name

There's a First For Everything...

I tried to make sashimi myself tonight. It's not quite the same as what you have at restaurants. Fileting was fine, but skinning was not. I didn't know how hard it was to peel off scales stuck on your fingers.

Plus the fishy smell really put me off. Duh, it's fish. But still. They must pre-treat it a certain way at the restaurants. I have no idea. Also, i recalled when Denisse was talking about how she almost went vegetarian given how much she abhored handling meat - any kind of meat. Now i know what she's talking about. It's really quite gross. I certainly didn't care for the tactility.

I couldn't finish my dinner. Before long i was spitting out some. Then i just dumped the rest.

My hands continued to smell fishy. I couldn't stand it, and i didn't know how to remedy the situation. I considered soaking them in rubbing alcohol, but that would be too drying. So i sprayed Febreze on them. I figured, if it works on fabric... skin is an absorbant material, right?

So now my hands smell like Febreze AND fish. Nice.

Yes, I Know Where Griffith Park Is

For reasons unbeknownst to me, I woke up with residual anger toward York II. How could he dismiss me like dropping a hot potato? From one point of not being able to keep his hands off me. Just because he deduced that i was a drunk? Just from one phone call. WTF? I thought he'd be more understanding and forgiving than that. He the spiritual, the-world-is-one guy.

He's one scarred puppy after all. Not unlike the rest of us. I can hear him yelp now.

I would email him to let him know this is uncool, but that would just prove that i am mental.

I never quite know when ill feelings are gonna surface, or why. So i played Alanis on my way to work. Alanis understands pain, and then some.

At the end of the day Matt and i stole a few moments alone again. He never asks about my weekend any more. Instead he gushes about his. Somehow he often manages to work activities with female friends into the conversation. Which makes me wonder if he's trying to trigger a reaction that remotely resembles jealousy.

He had golfed near Griffith Park in SoCal on his day off. "Do you know where that is?" He asked.

He'd forgotten that i'd told him i used to live in L.A.

I guess he just likes me insofar as i actually listen. Cos i act like i care about his problems. He's not interested in what's going on with my life. I get it now.

Not unlike York II, or JD, for that matter.

So i want someone to like me. It's perfectly human. Just as Matt needs someone to listen.

My psychologist recently suggested that perhaps i subconsciously exude a vibe that says, "I'm not worthy; don't value me."

I was offended at first, but within seconds, i entertained the possibility of that theory. It might very well be true. And men pick up on that. They may not even be aware of it. Kinda like a stink that nags under the radar.

So i have a psychologist, a group therapist, and a psychiatrist. I assure you, i'm not crazy. Really.

Snippet 22

When i first met my guitar instructor, he extended his hand.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Rich."

I looked around his studio, then looked back at him.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "This place doesn't look too posh to me."

Done That

I've experienced a lot in the past week or so. I've gone out twice drinking with strangers, actually striking up conversations, mingling amongst freaks and geeks and drunks. By Friday night i was so socialized out i couldn't even pry myself off the couch. On Saturday, i finally purchased an iPod, after 42 months of pining, and learned to use it in a matter of minutes. After midnight, i danced under the stars while inhaling second-hand pot, and went to bed at 4 a.m. On Sunday, my 2-year-old nephew ran toward me, threw his arms around me, whispered in my ear, then shyly eluded me. His affection overcame me. I melted on the spot.

The very night, my cousin Denisse invited me again to her hometown in Minnesota for Thanksgiving. When she verbally invited me earlier that weekend, i thought maybe she was just being nice and playing along her Mom. But her email seemed earnest. Love deprivation and fear of being alone drove me to spend over $600 on a round trip ticket. After all, my brother is gonna be at his in-law's, and JD is flying to Ohio.

Plus i can see my good friend JM who now lives only a few miles from my aunt. Kill two birds, right? Probably gonna see snow too. I haven't been out of California for 21 months now. Throw in shopping for new clothes without sales tax, and i'm home free.

New boots. I need new boots to brave the snow.

But it's Monday. And at the end of the day, i still feel empty as a shell. Hanging out with fake friends doesn't cut it. I could stay out all night. None of it matters. I don't belong anywhere.

That's 70's song "Never Been To Me" comes to mind. You can live it up, or think you do. But after all the feats, you haven't lived until you know exactly who you are. Only then you are home.

That said, at least i've locked in my turkey feast now. I have something to look forward to. That's something.

Quote 17

It's very important for human beings to feel popular and well-liked... among a large group of people we don't care for.

- Jerry Seinfeld