Wednesday, December 27, 2006

The Holiday List

Pros
I didn't feel like crying once the entire time.

Cons
...
Yeah, the pros pretty much make the cons moot.

This fact did not, however, exempt the holiday from family drama. And not that I cry every holiday because I don't...'cept for the last like 3 in a row. I'm just one of the many who get that blue kind of feeling during the supposed most wonderful time of the year. Mostly because seeing the family makes me really miss them, which leads to that wonderful walk down 'why am I still alone?' lane, which brings me to 'let's cry about it since it's such a great way to solve the problem'.

Back to the drama. There is an unspoken tension between my mother and brother, though both try to deny it with a pretend resignation that this is just how things are. It has gotten worse over the last couple years, but this is the first year I actually found myself in the middle of it. I guess because both sides could talk to me I was looked to as a kind of mediator.

Needless to say it is not a job I wanted nor actually did very well. In fact, I sucked at it. I didn't make anything worse, I just kind of refused to participate. (Some might say that may have made it worse...who knows?) I suppose the fact that it's all unspoken made it pretty easy, but still. I can barely handle the drama in my own damn head, let alone take on theirs.

At first I sided with my mother as some of the inconsiderate things he's done to her, he's also done to me. But he's my brother and I've accepted his sometimes poor etiquette as part of his character. I know he loves me despite his lack of communication. After a short but telling heart to heart with him though, I realize mom's not all in the right. They both have points and reasons for acting the way they do, but they're both so stubborn they won't ever actually speak about it to try to reach a compromise. Instead they both fill my ears with how they've accepted the fact that they lead extremely different, busy lives without time to offer one another.

It makes me incredibly sad. Of all people I know that separate lives feeling and how you sometimes have to put up that wall to protect yourself, but between family? Odd now that I told you I didn't feel like crying this season huh? Maybe it's because I never had time to concentrate on my own stupid drama for once...

Anyway, I started thinking more and more about my mother's influence over me, and how I thought I had some sort of a handle on it. Turns out I'm not as aware as I thought I was. Regarding family, and when/if I have my own, now I have to think about how every move I make will be interpreted. She has expectations that after watching my brother I'm afraid I won't meet. They are higher for me because I'm her daughter. Perhaps I've always known this and it's just another reason why I've avoided the whole issue of getting involved with someone. Christmas at his parent's house? She might never speak to me again.

Could I really be that much of a wet rag?

On a seemingly irrelevant note, I like to read Chinese astrology. It is something my mom introduced to me. The day to day stuff is usually ridiculous, but the long term forecasts and character traits seem to be on the mark more often than not. I found a book that had combination Chinese/Western sign readings and everything I read about my particulars was accurate. Down to the last line:

"This mixture of charming and freedom loving signs often marries late in life, if ever."

I read it outloud for my mother to hear. Loudly.

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Speaking Of...

...random, anonymous, blind kind of set ups...

My friend's husband's mother's best friend's son

While attending my friend's housewarming party I drank cider and chatted with a few people I knew for a while. Suddenly my friend's husband came over and practically shouted, "Have you guys met the W's?"

Before I could even finish my, "Um..no?" he grabbed my hand and was leading me across the room. "Oh...ok, I guess I'm the only one then?" I said to no one in particular since it went unheard.

"This is J and M you met them at the wedding. This is L and his wife A. My Aunt K and this is her son A. I've known A all my life!" The doorbell conveniently rang and he shot me a look I only realized later was a look of apology. "I have to go get that!"

I found myself standing among a small group of people who were smiling broadly at me, again I only realized later why so I never had time to make myself feel awkward. A and I talked for a few minutes and when the conversation lulled I excused myself to get another glass of cider. (Hard cider mind you. Oh yeah, livin' large.)

I had actually noticed A when he arrived at the party but not because I thought he was cute. (Though he was but that's besides the point.) I noticed him due to his, let's say selection of attire. Based on stereotypical assumptions, I admit, I guessed that he was gay. After speaking with him I wasn't convinced either way but I wasn't attracted to him (which actually leads me to believe he's straight. Oh the irony.) He was sweet but well...I wanted more cider. At that exact moment I still hadn't actually realized it was a set up, and afterwards felt bad that I left him high and dry.

After the party my friend and her husband admitted it was a set up, not by them but by his aunt. He said she threatened his life half way through the party because he hadn't brought me over yet. My friend said she didn't tell me before hand because she knew I'd freak out. I LOVE that she knows me well enough to know that. I said, "thank God you didn't tell me because I would have freaked out. The only way I'm ever going to meet someone is like this. A set up I don't know about!"

She kept apologizing but I actually appreciated it. It gave me a chance to experience something I otherwise would have denied myself if I had known about it. I had no chance to form false preconceptions or to think the potential of a relationship to death before even meeting the guy.

It's nice to not have time to think.

My friend's sister's boyfriend's brother

At this same party during which I was set up, I chatted with another guy who I had actually met briefly once before. Now him I had heard stories about and knew a little bit about his character. Preconceptions were made but oddly enough, I didn't try to avoid him. Number one, it would have been hard because the party wasn't that big, but what's really strange is that I was uncomfortable at times. I stuck around anyway and participated in a conversation with him. I mean, a lot of times I will tune out if the other person starts to talk a lot about themselves or I'll give kinda short answers to questions if I feel awkward (which I do realize is mostly in my head.)

Anyway, I had the feeling he kind of liked me and though I didn't really like him I chatted away. Maybe it was the cider, I dunno, but I was actually giving him a chance by learning about him and letting him learn about me too. I realize this sounds absolutely ridiculous and extremely juvenile bordering on trite, but this is the queen we're talking about! I'm pretty much equal to a teenager feeling my way blindly through this whole relating to boys on that level thing.

He showed his true colors when while entertaining a few little girls at the party he mentioned something about teaching his 7 year old niece how to stuff dollar bills down her shirt because it was a skill she'd need later in life. Said in jest of course but just as distasteful. It didn't make me hate him or even particularly change how I felt about him. I just realized that he had been on his best behavior for me and what I had heard from a few others (that he had no respect for women) was true.

After the party I found out he thought I was "hot"...which basically means he was picturing me naked while we talked.

All in all it was an enjoyable evening, and even finding out there was a whole plot I was unknowingly involved in made it all the more entertaining. The fact I rarely meet men and this night I had a choice of two, (for humor's sake) a gay guy and a misogynist, has not gone unnoticed.

How shall I think this one to death? :)

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Blind, Anonymous, Email Kind Of Set Up

A few months ago (possibly a year by now) my mother told me there was a man that auntie m wanted me to meet. He is the son of a friend of hers and he's a doctor. Mmmhmmm I said, that's nice. She asked if she could give him my email and I said yes mostly because what the hell else was I supposed to say without sounding like a complete ass? The details I received about him are as follows: He is of the same heritage of me, he's a doctor, he is divorced from a woman who is a magnificent bitch (most likely an embellished description provided by my mother) and has no time to meet women.

A little while later I received an email from a guy saying that auntie m gave him my email and that we should meet. I panicked. He wasn't supposed to want to meet me immediately! I thought we'd email a few times first. I didn't know how to respond so I just didn't.

Last week while among my mother's friends, the subject of auntie m's friend's son somehow arose again. Oddly enough, not by my mother.

auntie n: you know it's like i was telling l, you guys (as in me and her daughters) know what it's like. what that life (a doctor's life) is like. you lived it, you grew up with it. it's so out of character for auntie m i just want you to know that. she just doesn't do this kind of thing. but she wants the two of you to meet. and it would be good you know? because it's so hard for him to meet anyone, and i know it's hard for you too.
queenvee: nods
auntie n: i mean at the very least it's worth one date. just to meet him. i'm telling you it's so out of character for auntie m to even suggest this. he must really be a great guy....
queenvee: nods
auntie n: (continues on for about 10 minutes)

So now I'm stuck between wanting to meet him, if only to actually meet someone intended to be a potential connection, and knowing that knowing me I've probably already made all kinds of subconscious decisions about why it won't work because he's a doctor. Namely that I'll feel guilty when he makes time for me out of his busy schedule and I end up not being interested.

They can't give me time to think. No option to think. If they wanted us to meet they should have just planned it that way. I would have resented the intrusion but at least I wouldn't have any stupid preconceptions about anything.

Am I annoying you as much as I'm annoying myself?

Friday, December 01, 2006

Side Note: Ponderings From The Tropics

Isn't it strange how when someone tells you they're pregnant the first expected reply is, "congratulations!"? I understand saying it after the baby is born, for all parties involved in the situation have certainly earned it, some more than others...but 3, 4 months in?

Isn't that pretty much like saying, "we applaud you for getting laid!"?

Sunday, November 19, 2006

The Vengeful Forget-Me-Not

It is a very odd thing to find out someone you don't think about anymore is thinking about you. I don't mean in terms of liking someone or having sex with them because we all know how often that happens. No I mean I found out my ex-boss was not as oblivious to my feelings about her as I once thought. I can't remember how much I've said about her aside from her presence being a blight on my existence, but here it is in a nutshell: When she became my boss I liked her a lot. She was very supportive and we got along great. I listened to her advice and believed her when she said she saw a lot of her in me and wanted to help me grow in the company. Slowly but surely I began to realize that her supportiveness was an act and that when I went to speak to her about any issues I had with her or the job (which by the by was not often) it went in one ear and out the other with a few words of encouragement that she'd look into it.

Anyway, after she f'ed with my yearly review and was able to withhold a raise, lectured me on how to further my career by attending drunken company parties and had the mind to think I wouldn't notice when she instilled herself as the road block to me getting better projects (I find it hard to chalk it up to coincidence that this is no longer the case now that she's gone), it turned personal and I hate to admit ugly. But only for me because I never took any action against her, after all, my word against hers would never hold up in a court of HR. At any rate, I was always civil and kept things to the utmost professional degree, only speaking to her when absolutely necessary (which she actually found ways around- if there was something I needed to know she would tell someone else and have them tell me. Nice boss right?). My inability to kiss ass has gotten me absolutely nowhere.

I never asked for her support. Had she blatantly not given it to me I would have probably still hated her, but respected her nonetheless. The empty sisterly encouragement she did offer was just about the fastest way to bring out my bad side.

I knew she could feel the tension, but I always thought she attributed it to the fact that I was unhappy with having been passed over for promotion. Come to find out, she was actually more in tune with knowing I dislike her than I thought. However, she's still oblivious to why which is an attribute to her self-absorption.

Apparently, being true to her absolutely unprofessional behavior, while interviewing someone who knows me (professionally) for a job under her where she now works, I came up. As in, questions about how I'm doing and why I felt I wasn't getting anywhere and how others felt about working with me, were asked point blank. DURING SOMEONE ELSE'S INTERVIEW! It still completely boggles my mind that she would think that was anywhere near appropriate. But that aside, it blows my mind even further that she still cannot admit that her own superficial behavior and degrading treatment of me is the reason why I don't like her. She is clearly incredibly insecure about the fact that someone dislikes her but doesn't have enough self-reflection to realize her own part in it.

So that said, it is very weird to find out someone you don't think about anymore is still thinking about you. It's actually kind of empowering. After two years of filling my professional life with misery, my (no longer active) feelings about her eats her up! Wouldn't it twist the knife further if she knew I had all but forgotten her had it not been for finding this out? This is not something I want to take pleasure in, mind you, but you know what? F it. Revenge is best served cold.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Nice To Not Meet You

Please let me clarify (weeks later). I don't think it's easy for everyone else to meet other people. I realize there are varying degrees of social abilities, and I don't even mean that I lack them...(completely anyway). My friend A said in passing before we attended a friend of a friend's party where we wouldn't know anyone, "everyone will love you, they always do." My other friend J also said in passing after a...let's say small musical performance, "you have another fan," complete with raised eyebrows. Both of these comments made me feel good but after thinking about it for a while added to my discomfort with meeting people. And by people I'm talking men.

It's so ridiculous I don't even want to write it. Actually, I'm pretty sure I've written about it before but apparently I'm still struggling with it big time. It's not so much the act of meeting of people (I actually enjoy meeting new people) that I can't do, it's about dealing with what happens after the fact that I feel like a complete moron for even admitting. When a guy takes an interest in me, and I know that I'm not attracted to him, I feel horribly guilty and want to crawl under a rock, a) because there's a possibility I might hurt his feelings, b) because I feel like a bitch for not giving him a chance by quickly knowing I'm not attracted. I am in no way saying this happens all the time (I don't think I have quite that big an ego) but I only needed it to happen once to feel bad enough to try to avoid the situation ever happening again.

Isn't that sad?

No one can live their life without hurting others. It's human nature. I've hurt people I'm sure and I've been hurt by people. But come to think of it...none of my injuries if you will have been by men. Sure there were boys in high school I liked who did not like me back, but it seems I've never really let one get close enough to be able to hurt me, intentionally or not. I'm always too afraid of hurting their feelings, or getting into a position I can't get myself out of because I have a hard time saying no...for fear of hurting their feelings. Even if it puts me in danger. GOD what is wrong with me?

I remember one halloween a few years ago my ex-roommate brought me and our other roommate to a party at this bar. It was a pimp and ho party (imagine that?) and all the women definitely dressed the skanky part. Me? You guessed it. I wore a little Catholic school girl outfit and pigtails. I had the most clothes on but all the guys in the place asked about me. Who knew? Guys are sick. Sometimes I am a little too innocent for my own good I guess.

Anyway, this really greasy guy in a tight red shirt and leather pants grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. I tried to refuse but he didn't speak English very well. I didn't want to dance and I definitely didn't want to dance with him but I couldn't stop. He pulled me in tighter and it made me uncomfortable enough to say, "ok that's enough." I tried to walk off the floor but he pulled me back. I motioned to my roommates to help but they weren't watching. I actually kept dancing with him because I didn't know what to do. He was grinding with me and I let him. It took absolutely everything in me to finally push him away and shout, "no more!".

Why? Why couldn't I just say no and refuse to dance to begin with? Instead I let myself become extremely uncomfortable and then felt bad for pushing him away. Granted he was the kind of guy who was unphased by the whole thing, I still ended up feeling bad.

This is an extreme case, but I think it's probably a good example of how I deal with guys in general. No matter how they actually feel about me, no matter if I even have the ability to accidentally hurt them, I feel bad for not giving them a chance. And you can say, so then why don't you? Give them a chance? If I'm not immediately attracted I know I'd only be fooling myself and end up really hurting him after getting into a relationship. At least, that's what I tell myself. And I realize there is exactly the same amount of chance after getting into a relationship that he might not want to be with me, but I can't even get that far. I'd rather that be a possibility with someone I'm interested in than with someone I'm not. Does any of that make sense? Dating is about getting to know each other. What about that don't I get?

I know it's ridiculous! I want so badly to change I just don't know how. I can't make myself not feel bad even though the cause (if I'm honest) comes from a totally self-centered place. I wish I could make myself be attracted to more guys. That is a weird thing to say, but it's true. There have only been a small number of guys who I took a liking to and imagined myself being with (sexually). A very small number. (If you don't count celebrities...oh, like you don't have a list.)

Many of my friends have met their other halfs and people they've dated through other friends. C'mon guys! Don't you have any single guy friends who meet every one of my extremely specific requirements?

Here's a short check list to aid the search:

__He's attracted to me
__He's attractive to me

Good luck with #2.
GO.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

'Tis The Season

The cousin who called a few months ago to leave a disgruntled voicemail about how our younger cousin got engaged...just got engaged.

My response: I TOLD you you'd be first.

I have not met him yet, but he's got to be better than the last guy she was with...the one who actually threw his car keys at her when she said she'd better drive because she knew the way better than he did. From what she has told me about her now fiance, I've gathered that he is the first non meat head she's ever been with. I am really happy for her and I hope to meet him soon. We used to talk about living next to one another as adults and raising our kids together. Well...she used to talk about it. Considering she'll never leave the area where she currently lives and I'll probably hit 50 before I open my heart, I'm thinking it'll always just be a childhood fantasy about adulthood.

A co-worker who once wrote, "I can't wait until we date" in a playful email exchange also just got engaged.

My response: Congrats! PS f you for making me cover for you while you called out to celebrate.

I brought cookies to the engagement gathering. His girlfriend is really sweet.

I am intrigued by how people meet. Mostly because I can't seem to do it. Rather, I can't make myself do it. It's fascinating how it's so easy for everyone else.

In more important news, the surreal dreams are heyla, heyla. I don't feel overly stressed though, so I'm wondering why they're back with such force. For the past 2 or 3 nights that extremely creepy sensation of being watched has plagued my verge of sleep self. There is an odd connection to work because I hear the worry, 'what if the people at work are watching this?' in my thoughts. And by this I mean me sleeping. So WEIRD. What the hell is burrowing into my little mind?

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

A Prayer For Queen Vee

*Warning. Conservative devout followers of any religion might find the following offensive. So don't read it if you are. No one is holding your eyeballs.*

I haven't really had a conversation with anyone about God in long time. Not in terms of religion or child rearing or of politics like 'what are those God-fearing republicans doing to ruin my life as an independent single woman' conversations, but in terms of existence. Though lately, it's one I've been having with myself. A lot.

A few years ago, the last God conversation I can remember having actually, I found out my best friend didn't believe in God but followed almost every tradition in her religion (or is it culture?) to the T. (I still have trouble understanding that, though it does kind of make me a hypocrite...I need to ask her again.) I tried to form my own opinion about it and came up with my own need to believe in God, not in the traditional sense, but in some kind of higher power. I thought, something has to be responsible for all this...all this existence. Life is too beautiful despite the ugly to think otherwise. I needed to believe something was hearing me. But all the while I also believed somewhere in my consciousness that God was the collective belief of humans to find meaning in life and to give it rules to follow.

I don't need the threat or reward of a promised afterlife to live my life well. (Well is of course a relative term, but you know what I mean.) Logic based in religion makes no sense to me...I'm not going to murder, steal from, cheat or hurt anyone because I might end up in some kind of Dante's Inferno? How about I won't do these things because they are bad and I wouldn't want them done to me? Why is there no inherent value in people's behavior? Can't say I've never done wrong but how can taking the lord's name in vain and killing someone land me in the same place? Better yet, both be absolved with a simple confession and a few Hail Marys? I've been a goody goody my whole life, aside from the cursing, a few hurt feelings and a lot of inner snarky thoughts, but if I don't ask forgiveness will I not get into heaven? Will not believing get me a free pass to hell? But isn't God supposed to be forgiving?

I suppose it's time for me to admit that I've lost my faith. Any lapsed Roman Catholic due to a disagreement with the Church can probably relate. I have come to consider myself an Agnostic, but I feel like a cheater. I can't commit fully to either belief. I've never even come close to saying out loud that I don't believe in God...my father would be crushed. One of the few things he has ever asked of me was to attend Church, which I did dutifully until I became an adult and could not stand to go. He has never told me how sad it makes him that none of his children attend services but I know he is disappointed. The last time we touched on the subject I made him understand that I did not agree with the Church but I did believe in God, praying every night for things like the safety of my family, the health of my sick aunt and a job promotion. At the time I did.

It breaks my heart to break his so I will never tell him that my faith has changed. I still pray to God every night, but I don't know why. Habit maybe. I want to believe so badly that there is something up there watching over, but I know it's ridiculous to think that of the billions of people on this earth, my prayers for a new job or a man to hold my heart are the ones that are not only going to be heard, but granted as I ask for them. Especially if I'm just thinking them. But then again, maybe I'm limiting my image of God. Maybe Almighty means hearing billions and billions of voiced and internal prayers for both selfish and selfless things. I don’t know. I just have a hard time believing there's someone/thing at the controls now. Maybe there was at the very beginning, but not anymore.

The more history I learn the more I realize how politically charged religion is and always has been, and how those in power manipulate the rules to keep those who toil in line. How can you believe killing in God's name is something God would want? I know there are those who do because it's what they've been taught, but I also know there are others who know it's simply an ideal strong enough to limit human free will. From the Crusades to modern times. This is why it makes sense to me that God is man made...it is a tool one can use to manipulate another to further his own desires. Even the purest idea of God as simply the creator of all things favors man above all else.

Maybe the big bang is God and we are all praying to a scientific event that has no human-type ability to think or free will to control the elements it made. Or maybe evolution is something God set up to watch as a movie. Time moves differently for the omnipotent.

All this to say I don't know. The days I believe in something greater are becoming less I think, but as a result it makes me want to live my life better, sooner. At least in theory. This is all I know I have. I'm not saying anyone should change their beliefs; everyone has to do what they have to in order to survive this reality. I'm just saying don't rely on an afterlife for fulfillment ( or punishment.) I do believe in Karma though the passing of it to different lifetimes is questionable. Maybe that is a silly belief of mine. Like a cloudy bed or seven subservient virgins after death. But like you to yours me to mine. And I'll probably never stop praying. Whether I'm being heard or not, oddly enough I think it helps reminds me of the limitless as well as the limitations of my life.

So Queen, take your own damn advice and get out there. Stop praying about it and actually open your heart fer godssakes. Because if God's watching she's only shaking her head at how boring you are.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Meanie Virgeenie

I have never intentionally been mean to anyone (with the exception of E and A when I was a pre-teen and crumbled under peer pressure) at least I like to think so. At the very least, I try not to be mean. The pointed, I'm-doing-this-to-hurt-you mean, I mean. I would never recover from the guilt. I lose sleep replaying something I've said over in my head if I think I may have possibly, maybe, slightly hurt someone. It kind of sucks.

I'm not saying I'm Nicey McNicerson all the time, far from it. If thought bubbles were an actuality people would probably spit at me as I walked by...course their thought bubbles would be visible too so they shouldn't be throwing stones. But anyway when and if I do do something mean it's most likely unrealized and by accident.

Case in point: I went to a work party recently and my now ex-boss showed up. I had already had 2 drinks by the time I saw her so my mind was already wandering. You know how people gather around into small circles to shout at each other over the music at those things? Well, she was in a circle that consisted of me, someone we had both just met, someone else's back who was part of another circle and me. It didn't hit me until after the party that I didn't even make an effort to speak to her. Although, this also means she didn't make an effort either, I felt kind of bad for not really acknowledging her. I don't know why really because I don't like her. Why should I feel bad for not chatting up someone I dislike and felt mistreated by when I worked for her?

It's also not the first time I've done that...to her. (I'm coming to the realization that avoidance can equal being mean given the right circumstance.) At other work functions I did my best to avoid her and I'm pretty sure she always attributed it to the fact that she was my boss. (I'm not a big fan of small talk in general, but to have to do it with someone I hated at the time? See I'm growing! Hate has diminished into dislike. It's all about time.) My co-workers also did some avoiding, but not to the degree I did. At any rate, I think she may now finally realize that it wasn't because she was my boss. See, even now it makes me feel bad to think she finally knows that I don't like her because it might hurt her feelings. Why do I care about her feelings? After all the shit she pulled?

I don't think she's a bad person. I just don't like her. And it took a long time for me to admit that. I've probably said this before so forgive me if I'm repeating myself...but there aren't that many people who I take an active disliking to- I mean, yes there are a lot of people I probably don't like but I don't think about them enough for it to consume any energy. And once she passes out of my consciousness it won't be an active dislike anymore either, but she'll never regain any kind of footing in my eyes. Man, she just rubs me the wrong way.

But then I found out something that made me feel even worse for a little while, until I realized it didn't change the way I felt about her. Apparently she had some marital problems and just got a divorce. She was married for less than three years. It explains a little about her work ethic and her general attitude over the past few months but I'm not going to forgive her treatment of her workers just because of it. I am wiling to give people a lot of rope, god knows I need it at times, but I just can't with her. Maybe because her ridiculousness with me began way before any of her general bad attitudes began. I don't know. I just don't need to be around someone who makes me feel mean for not liking her. You know?

Backtracking...new boss has the potential to mean less crappy time at work, no? No. Not when new boss doesn't have the right experience and gives me a hard time about taking vacation days. In her defense, she's new and doesn't want to make waves, and she didn't really give me that hard a time but she questioned me when she didn't need to, mostly because she read the email wrong. Because I had to deal with that on a daily basis with the old boss, it does not bode well for new boss to start with that. And not that I'm some old timer that knows the HR handbook backward and forward, but I've been there long enough to deserve certain allowances. I've been screwed out of a lot of things at this company, I will not allow vacation time to be one of them.

I also heard that good things were being said about me among the top layer and while that is a great thing that I am excited about, I will not allow my hopes to raise because someone has to quit or die for me to be promoted. And even if that does happen, they'd probably put me through the ringer and then hire someone else anyway. That's the way it works.

So in conclusion, old boss out, new boss gathering strikes, I'm finally getting a little recognition for my work but I'm not holding my breath for an actual reward and um....Oh...I guess I can be unintentionally mean if I don't like you.

Virgins can be mean, who knew?

Sunday, October 22, 2006

For The Love Of Vacation

"The trouble is not that we are never happy-it is that happiness is so episodical. All I really care about...can almost frighten me with happiness. But then it's gone and I cannot see what holds it all together."
-Ruth Benedict

I need to get out of here, and by here I mean the daily grind which for me takes place in NYC. One upon a time a few years ago I saved up, quit my job and jetted off to Europe for a couple months with the intent to revive my spirits. It worked...for a while anyway. The daily grind has a way of robbing life's color after awhile if you let it. Apparently I have. (A work update is needed and will be provided...eventually.) Though I don't feel the same way I did when I upped and quit a few years ago, I am at the point where if I don't get a little time off to explore new things and meet new people I might go mad.

Realistically that just means a boring kind of depression, one that doesn't require medication or therapy because it really doesn't register on the needing actual help scale. It's just a general melancholy that surrounds me...kind of like pigpen's dirt. Basically, I let the happy episodes occur further and further apart with nothing to connect them. I need a reminder (a memory can only get me so far) of how absolutely amazing life can be when you're not chained to 40 hour work week. Or should I say 50.

In Holland their starting vacation time is 4 weeks. I really do believe I would be a happier person if I had more time off. This 2 week corporate bullshit is harming its workforce, not increasing production. And with the turn-over of jobs so high, who sticks around one company long enough to get to that 4 week allowance?

There is so much to do and see and so little time to do and see it.

I do have a small vacation to a tropical island coming up, which is much needed. The thought of sitting half naked on a beach with daiquiri in hand makes me want to melt with relief. I haven't had a real vacation in two years. That's not to say I haven't had time off, it's just that I didn't go anywhere relaxing or new and interesting to explore. Mom and Dad's house doesn't count as vacation.


Though I think Ms. Benedict was speaking more in terms of love being the great connector, here is my offering of how to potentially connect episodes...vacation. (sigh)

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Involuntary Virginity

Salon.com has finally found a label. Though I am not excusing my status as something happening to me instead of a kind of choice to not make sex a priority, I do believe much of this article speaks directly to me. Or rather, to non-virgins curious about how someone in their late 20s could still be a virgin and not totally f'ed up.

"The phenomenon of involuntary virgins, on the other hand, exists underground in liberal America, where sophisticated career women are supposed to have active sex lives and gyms offer pole dancing and stripping classes as a kind of aerobics."

I'm an underground phenomenon. Go me!

Involuntary virgins, on the other hand, may have missed that dating phase in high school (perhaps they were buried in their books) and probably missed it in college too, so once they enter the real world, one with more adults, they start to feel left behind...

Really could not have said this better. They also talk about performance anxiety which though I don't want to admit, plays into the situation.

"I remember thinking when I was in high school, 'Yeah if I had a boyfriend I would sleep with him,'" says Katie, a journalist in New York, who didn't lose her virginity until she was 28. "I thought when I got to college I would have this garden of eligible candidates to choose from. But people didn't really date. It was a hookup scene I was never really comfortable with."

Oh Katie. We would probably be good friends if we knew each other. My problem with the 'hookup scene' is that I didn't go out to get drunk and find lots of random frat boys cute enough to make out with. I wanted to, believe me, but being a) allergic to alcohol and b) uninterested in trying to fend off the cute, drunk frat boy when he wanted more than I was willing to give kind of put a damper on things. (*Note- the one time I did get enough alcohol in me to actually lessen the inhibitions, Jean pulled me away and we went home. On the one hand, in retrospect he was an asshole so it's one less asshole that I've made out with, but on the other hand, WTF? She denied me the chance to make out with an asshole. And it was just the beginning of what would be a disasterous friendship anyway. Uh.)

I'm pretty sure that the kind of guy I'm interested in won't be bothered by the fact though I still don't plan to tell him until afterwards. Not that he won't be able to guess...there are some things I'm pretty good at hiding, but I am not a good liar and if he's smart/sensitive enough he'll probably figure it out himself anyway.

So cheers to the new phenomenom!...or the once traditional prize-wife (ech) gone obsolete. Let's make a comeback girls! Though I do not recommend having your hymen replaced with plastic surgery partly because that's just not a healthy way to deal with your sexuality, but mostly because, well ew.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

A Letter Of Contempt

Dear people who say, "he'll show up when you least expect it" or "you'll find him when you're not looking":

F U
I've been actively least expecting, not looking for him for a good 28 years. Where is he?

Love,
Queen Vee

Friday, October 13, 2006

What Part Of Sleep With Don't I Get?

For all the people I've not slept with there are people I've slept next to, a fact that in practice probably adds to my overall anxiety. Learning about the things you do in your sleep from someone else is discomforting. This probably reveals more than I'd like it to about my control issues. I can't control what I do in my sleep and it freaks me out. I've been told that I laugh and also that I grind my teeth. Nothing that embarrassing there. I know from waking up with a wet face that I also cry in my sleep. Also not bad. But what about the big Os I think I occasionally experience while sleeping? The fear of that happening while asleep next to someone is enough to keep me awake all night just to avoid it.

But then there's also just having someone next to me period that throws me off. I've been sleeping alone now for so long, it's strange to have someone else in the room let alone in the bed. If there is such a thing as psychic energy I'm pretty sure that just because their brain works my sleep is disturbed by whoever is next to me. (Though in all likelihood I wouldn't be able to sleep next to a dead person either. But I digress.) No matter how tired I am, how good a friend it is, how many times I've slept next to them or what is on my mind, it always takes me forever to fall asleep with someone else around. In any case, they always fall asleep first.

As long as they aren't snoring, the steady soft breathing of a sleeping person does hold a kind of comfort. That is, once I get past being annoyed that I'm not asleep yet and have to listen to them happily sleep breathing.

I would like to believe that it's something that will go away once I've begun sleeping with someone on a regular basis (the virgin said without a hint of irony.) Of course, I've got to take into account my light sleeper status and obvious habit of over analyzing my every interaction with the world and its with me.

Who else would analyze the actual sleep part of sleeping with someone? You can count on me.

Saturday, October 07, 2006

And Yes...

I need to stop reading other people's comments about their older virgin friends and how weird it is. Or worse, how disturbed they must be to still be a virgin after 30. Just because you don't do something everyone else does doesn't mean you are totally f**ked in the head. Ok yes, obviously I have some issues, thus the reason for starting this blog...I'd rather be an anonymous therapy patient than an actual one, but I'm not frigid nor a prude nor that messed up (I think. I'm not trying to make my issues bigger than they really are. I'm pretty sure they can be overcome.) And yes on the flip side of that, there are older virgins out there who are some or all of these things, but blanketing us all with the stigma is doing nothing for my insecurity about it.

I don't really see my virginity as something I'm hanging onto, because I'd gladly lose it if I could find someone I wanted to lose it to. And yes I hope it'll be someone I'm in love with, but at this point, I'll settle for someone I have chemistry with and who makes me feel comfortable (which I have to say again is odd that I haven't come across someone like this. I'd say I was comfortable with myself and my body, so I don't think that's the issue. Am I mixing up comfort with safety? If so, why am I so obsessed with feeling safe?) I'm only afraid of sex so far as I've never done it so I don't want to look like a total ass when I do do it (and of course the whole getting pregnant thing. And yes I have heard there's no really right way to do things, it just kind of happens. It's of no consolation to someone who's never been even close to it almost kind of sort of happening.)

Older men seem to flock to me (perhaps because I don't view them as threatening in any way and am myself and comfortable around them) but the ones my age are either scared of me or assume I already have a boyfriend or I don't know what. But all of these things combined have left me in an inexperienced state both mentally and physically when it comes to men. And YES I'm going to blame my mother yet again for all her anti-men type messages growing up which lead to my eventual avoidance of the whole relationship situation. The situation that everyone and their uncle seems to not only have experienced, but experienced many times with many people in many ways.

All I know is, if you met me on the street you'd probably think I was just another NYC chick with a string of broken hearts (not a self-description) behind her. If after getting to know me a little better, outside of romantic relationship revelations, would you suddenly think I was mental if you somehow found out I was a virgin? Everyone has issues. This is just mine.

I don't know why I'm trying to justify my normalness. It only enables the stereo-typers to raise their eyebrows and nod their heads. Considering this blog is pretty much a one sided conversation, maybe I'm just trying to convince myself I'm not a lost cause.

Maybe one day I'll even figure out how to help me help myself.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Still Undecided

I still really can't decide how I feel about this. Clearly I'm bothered by it, but why? Am I just jealous that she's able to date all these guys without having to do any work? Or does it absolutely irk me that both she and the magazine are making a huge deal out of her virginity? Why does it have to be so weird that a 29 year old hasn't had sex? Ok, the fact that this blog is solely dedicated to my own virginity aside, it is not the most pressing thing in my life. Nor is it it a priority to find the 'one' to lose it to, though truth be told it is on the list. It just has a written next to 'one' instead of the. At least for the moment. I know guys who may not end up being for me can be good (as in genuine). I just have to relax enough to find one.

I somehow got into another conversation with my mother about having babies. She said you have to find someone soon I want a grandchild. I said, well what if I got pregnant but didn't have a man? I don't think that would be very responsible. What would I do? She said, well you could still do it. You could come live with me.

I think I'm going to vomit.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Virgins From Hell 2: Electric Boogaloo*

Friday, 2:43pm, Excerpt

...
JJ: i actually lost a few hundred and was depressed in ac and decided to call her at like 3am
JJ: she didn't return the call b/c we were hardcore for awhile
Queen Vee: she was on another booty call.
JJ: haha maybe. but we kept each other around for awhile b/c of the sex
JJ: the best is she came to nyu and i went out with a bunch of friends
and then this other girl i was banging showed up at the bar. I had to sneek Vicki out
Queen Vee: you are such a player
JJ: no no. it was all college. man, i miss those days
...

I usually log off before he can ask me about one of my sexual exploits. He would wet himself the second he found out I haven't had any. check that, he'd have his pants around his ankles asking if he could be my first. Nothing like having a younger guy friend tell you stories about how dumb and slutty his ex-girlfriend was. The more I hear, the more likely I am to become one of these:


*Starring Queen Vee!
HA!!

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

I, Virgin, Do Thee Wed

Well...the wedding I didn't want to attend happened last week, thus my lack of weekly wanking about virginity, and now I probably have enough for a book. Heh heh. But I'll try to make a long story short because I don't even want to write it all, let alone read it.

So it begins with my mother calling to tell me that L broke up with her boyfriend. Forgive me if I'm repeating myself...I said, "so...?" I knew exactly where she was going but I wanted to hear her say it. She says, "So that means she won't have a date for the wedding." "And that affects me how?" "I'm just saying..." "Mmmhmm."

Oh mom. I know she only wants me to feel better, but having another single girl there really doesn't change my situation or how I feel about it. Anyway, come to find out 5 minutes after arriving that her sister A just broke up with her boyfriend and was there alone- L was already on to her next boyfriend who stood within 2 feet of her all evening. Zing!

The wedding itself was fine, pretty traditional (aside from the non-church ceremony both parents were furious about) but nice to catch up with some childhood friends I haven't seen in a while. Only once the entire evening was I asked the question I hate:

Auntie M: So where is your escort?
Auntie M's Daughter, sitting beside her boyfriend: MOM!
QV: Eh, there was no one suitable enough...
Auntie M: See? No one suitable enough.

And then she moved on to wherever she was headed. I was surprised not more of my parents' friends asked, but I think because my parents are no longer up here that they were more interested in talking to them than to me for once.

Both A and L are strikingly pretty, at least I think so. I mean, no one can deny they are pretty but every time I see them, usually after a few years have passed, I am reminded just how beautiful they are. Like me, their father is not American which attributes to their exotic features. Anyway, the point of this is a ridiculous one but I'm going to make it anyway because like every woman I have days of low esteem and this made me feel better.

After the wedding my mother and I talked about how everyone looked, and I said how pretty those two in particular looked. She said, as every mother is required to say:

Mom: You were prettier.
QV: Thanks mom, I relieve you of your duty now.
Mom: Everyone else said so too.
QV: Oh? And just who is this everyone you speak of?
Mom: Four people told me! Auntie M, Auntie E, Auntie J and...Uncle D. (All my parents friends are aunties and uncles.) I didn't hear any of them tell Auntie N (A and L's mom) that.
QV: You are too much. What, did you attach yourself to Auntie N's ass all night listening?
Mom: I'm not lying.

As utterly juvenile as it is, there's something to be said for hearing about how pretty you are when you've been standing next to two of the prettiest girls you know all night.

Ok last story. In the car home I also learned some things that were none of my business, but the groom's mother has no filter on what should and should not be shared so I found out. She told my mother pretty much every last detail about her son's personal life along with all the wedding details, which my mom went on to share with me. I doubt my mother would have said anything if I hadn't started the conversation, but whatever. It really was innocently started. Before the wedding I remembered her telling me that they lived together. When I talked to the groom at the wedding I caught up on the details. It was one of those things where telling me something fit whatever point she was trying make even though it wasn't true, and when I called her on it later she would deny ever saying it.

QV: You know, they don't live together.
Mom: I know. He's there now and she's moving in after.
Then it transitioned but for the life of me I can't remember how.
Mom: Auntie D told me everything. About the wedding, about the bride's father...they're waiting until they're married.
QV: (utter disbelief) What.
Mom: That's what they told her. They're waiting until they're married.
QV: No way. That's bull.
Mom: That's what she said they told her.
QV: I don't believe it.

But I kinda do. I can't imagine why they would wait, they've been together for like six years, but there is something that rings true about it. He would have no cause to tell his mother anything, let alone that he was waiting because he told her to mind her business when she tried to involve herself in the wedding plans. I spent a lot of time growing up in that house and communication about things like that was so not part of the scene. I can't imagine he was trying to make her happy by telling her that. I also just can't imagine them having this or any other conversation like it to begin with so what do I know. Maybe he really is just a good little Catholic boy (who for some reason didn't want a Catholic ceremony...).

I almost said, well I'm not waiting! at the end of that exchange but A) none of my parents' business and B) I think my dad might have had a heart attack. Not because I'm planning on having sex before marriage, but because I'm so adamant about it. Though knowing my dad, he may believe I've already slept with someone. I mean, I always picture him as the naive father who believes his daughter is a princess, but he's the one who surprised me by thinking I had started drinking before I actually had. So why should this be any different? Course, God doesn't have anything to say about drinking whereas sex is a different story. And I'm sure he's also thinking, she's almost 30. She's had to have it by now.

Uh.

Anyway, my point with this whole damn post is that for once I was not the only virgin in the room. Yay me!

Course, 12 hours later the title would again be mine. Perhaps 24 if they were tired from dancing and drinking all night.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

"Why Did You Spread Those Vicious Lies?"

"Cuz you didn't spread those vicious thighs."
-Strangers With Candy, "The Virgin Jerri"

I had a dream a few nights ago that I was pregnant, 9 months from the size of me. Then like a movie scene, it cut to me holding the baby in my arms as it gazed up into my eyes. Freaky thing was, the baby looked exactly like I did when I was about 2 years old. Suddenly it hit me that I had to go to work and had no where to leave her, so I brought her with me. At the end of the day I looked around but couldn't remember where she was. Then I realized she was already in the van, ready to go home. I got in and turned away for a moment, and when I looked back she was gone. I started crying and yelling that someone had kidnapped her. I woke up with tear filled eyes.

Becoming pregnant is a gigantic fear of mine. Well, one among the many obviously, but it's pretty loomy sometimes. It's just one of those things that is stuck in the recesses of my brain and no matter how hard I prove it (with known facts and statistics) to be a ridiculous fear, it remains heavy and foreboding. Hello, birth control! condoms! what have you! I still believe that I will get pregnant despite it all. The fact that the percentage is minute and usually due to user error, that's enough for me. And I can't handle it. I can't handle the thought let alone the actuality. (This is all assuming I'd have to do it alone because the guy I chose to have sex with will not be interested in sticking around.)

It's like...a phobia. I'm sure there's a name for it. There's a name for every fear out there....

Sweet sassy there is. It's called Tocophobia. Though, that's more the fear of actually being pregnant. My fear is more, how can I care for a kid if I can't even handle myself? Let's see if there's a name for that...Automatonophobia- fear of ventriloquist dummies, Consecotaleophobia- Fear of chopsticks, Mycrophobia- Fear of small things, Novercaphobia- Fear of your step-mother, Phronemophobia- Fear of thinking (for real?).

Possibilities: Pedophobia- Fear of children, Genophobia- Fear of sex, Hominophobia- Fear of men...

The closest I can find is Atychiphobia- Fear of failure. And I guess getting pregnant before I'm ready would be a huge failure for me because I wouldn't know what to do except crawl back to mom in the hopes that she'd help. Maybe it's another control issue, as in looking back on my life I've always had some kind of control over what was next. Am I still so much a child myself? How can that be? Or is it because I don't want to do it alone? I want to give my child what my parents gave me? A happy childhood, albeit an over-protected one? One in which once grown they can say, "Mom, you f**ed me up in your own way but I'm still a good person and I love you?" At any rate it's something I can't provide because I have way too many non-happy-wtf days myself, lost in thought as to why the girl who is caring for me is doing such a sh*tty job.

Where was I going with this? Oh right, reason number 13,240 why I haven't had sex yet.

Maybe if I actually starting taking birth control I might feel differently. And maybe I'll get a lobotomy and won't feel anything at all. And maybe, just maybe, fate really does exist and will intervene at any moment. Like now.

Or now.

Or how 'bout now?

Ah screw it. Who wants an absolute neurotic virgin girlfriend who has trust issues?

Now don't crowd me boys. If you've had a vasectomy (and put some swimmers on ice) I might even look in your direction twice.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

I Suspect My Expectations

"Hold me as long my body's shaking
Hold me as long I'm anticipating
Hold me as long your woman's waiting
Don't be shy I'm inviting you, I'm inviting you
So lay your hands your hands on me"
-Beth Hart

This song makes me want strip off my clothes. If you are in the need of a soulful rock and blues voice, you must check out Beth Hart. She will rock you inside out.

I've come to the (brilliant) conclusion that I will never be able to ask someone to lay their hands on me if I never knowingly risk disappointment. It sounds odd...like I should have said hurt. Maybe I mean both. I don't know. But I realize that I've been living under the "no expectations, no disappointments" rule, and it extends far beyond what it should.

I had a performance of a kind a few weeks ago and I was genuinely surprised by the number of my friends who actually showed up. There were a few I allowed myself to expect to be there, safe in the assumption that I would not be disappointed, but most I had already made excuses for because I knew they had other engagements, early mornings, etc. I think I could go so far as to say I felt honored...yes I know it's dramatic and most likely just my overblown sensitivity acting up, but I was thrilled to have them all there, and all there for me.

So am I underestimating my own value in their lives or am I underestimating their abilities as good friends who would of course come out to support me?

I don't want to play victim and cry about how many times I've been disappointed in (hurt by?) people, because in reality I've only been burned a few times. Granted Jean is an extreme case, she was not the first, nor the last I imagine though apparently I'm doing my best to try to make it so. Oh, too late. And I do still have people in my life who I love but who I can actually now predict when they will disappoint me. I'm doing my best to keep the expectation low and accept them for who they are, forgetting things that are important to me a part of it, because I know everyone has their own issues and I am far, far, far from perfect. I can always tell when I begin to expect because it stings.

When friends of friends or acquaintances ask something of me this rule comes in handy because I know if the situation was reversed I would most likely end up on the losing side. Perhaps that's a dark view of people but I've experienced just enough to know it's true. I would give my good friends the shirt off my back, but anyone else would just get a sideways glance and I don't feel guilty because I can say if I was on fire they wouldn't stop to piss on me. Part of this, and this is going to sound completely backward, is that I trust too easily. I always want to believe the best in people, despite all the cynicism I just spewed, or that at the very least they are not out only for themselves. So I don't usually let people in and end up trusting them to my own detriment. But then again, what about all the suspicion I've blubbered about being a part of the reason I can't meet anyone?

(shrug) You got me. I want to believe the best in people and am extremely suspicious of them at the same time. How f**ed is that?

If I'm honest I can make the distinction. New people I meet who are going to be part of my life through necessity, whether it be at work or socially, I need to believe that in their dealings with me they would only treat me with the same courtesy I give them, the Golden Rule so to speak- (i.e., there was no reason for my old boss to be condescending or withholding of opportunity because I had done nothing to her, and yet she was.) There's where the expectation usually gets me in trouble. New people can be men or women, and I've been right and wrong about them. And it has nothing to do with judging character...or maybe in trying not to judge it does.

New people I meet who seem to want to be a part of my life, that is express interest, I am extremely suspicious of because I know it's only a matter of time before they'll want something from me. These new people are usually men. Surprise! (Though not that many have tried.) Whether it be 2 minutes or 2 years, it's just so easy for me to judge their motives as being shallow or selfish. (That sounds awfully harsh, but if you haven't noticed I have some issues with sex.) Sad isn't it?

So basically I want to believe the good in everyone but am fully aware of how naive that is. All the while I'm doing my best to keep from falling into the trap by suspecting everyone (except friends with whom I apparently have varying degrees of expectation), I still end up falling into it and being disappointed. (Hurt! Who am I fooling?) But that's life right? The only thing I'm doing is walking into the traps blindfolded, so why don't I do it why my eyes open? Maybe it'd be easier to deal with after a while? I'm still a sensitive sap, but the disappointment doesn't hurt like it used to (which actually may or may not be a good thing. Am I numbing myself in the process?)

I'm just saying, an off switch placed somewhere behind my left ear would do me wonders.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Predicting The Past

I wonder what it would have been like for me if I had been of marrying age in the fifties. I'd probably be married to D with two or three kids by now. At least, I'd like to think since he's the only one I liked at the same time he liked me. Not that I would know but I feel like that may have been enough for a lot of people back then.

At any rate, I wouldn't be a virgin anymore.

Isn't it ironic?

Friday, September 08, 2006

Eyes On The Prize

So it was only a matter of time before I got around to blogging about that 29 year old virgin all over Jane magazine's website. I am still trying to formulate an opinion about the whole charade. To be fair I haven't read through everything...I only made it through a couple he said/she said blogposts about the dates before becoming dangerously close to shooting myself.

I mean, in terms of meeting men it's a brilliant scheme. Get a couple hundred people to send in potentials, have a magazine screen out the obvious mental cases and pay for every date, then have the reading public vote on which guy you should go out with...Voila! There's no work required of her in finding suitable men to get to know in 5 hours or less. Plus absolutely no pressure because she has a new date tomorrow night. No guilt for hurt feelings because all the Jane readers and others drawn to the ridiculousness will be in on it. He's just a fool if he thinks he'll get away unscathed for admitting he feels there's a "connection" and she doesn't.

On the other hand...ew. Does she honestly think she's going to find a guy she "connects" with when the first person every date meets is a 'handler' (fancy word for production assistant of a just graduated college and this is their first paying job kind) who sticks a mic pack down his pants and leads him to a specified place of meeting? Oh they are all so honest in their blogs about how the people swarming around them listening to every word is only slightly distracting, but after a while it's fine and they can't wait to go out with her again to really get to know her.

Vomitous.

It's the bachelor(ette) all over again, only it's about her being a virgin rather than her need to get married because she's in her late twenties, single and childless. Which put in those terms actually kind of makes it acceptable. Here's to hoping she's only in it for the sex. I will laugh my ass off if the payoff post reads:

"Chad was so charming and cute! We hit it off immediately and the connection was hot! After our dinner at Nobu which we could barely get through without touching one another, we cabbed it back to my apartment where I threw him down and made him make a woman of me. Three times! Thanks Jane! I never thought I'd finally find my fuckbuddy!"

Two months and counting...

Monday, September 04, 2006

The Devil's Premarital Playground

My parents raised me Catholic. Or rather, my father did as my mother never attended services. Every Sunday up through college I went to either church or CCD, which I cannot for the life of me remember what it stands for other than Sunday school. When I got a little older they moved CCD to a weekday evening, probably just to inconvenience the parents who had to chauffer their kids everywhere. There are exactly three things I remember about my nine years of actual lessons, where I allegedly learned about God.

1. An African American teacher I had who had a voice like Maya Angelou, fluid and passionate and full of warmth. What she taught though, I haven't a clue.

2. After our hour was up when I was really young they would lead us to the cafeteria where we would meet up with our parents and eat cookies.

3. An awkward bow legged teacher whose toes pointed inward when he walked. Out of all the classes I attended, there is one specific class of his that I will never forget. He said, "Ok we're going to play a game, everyone stand up. If you believe premarital sex is ok go to that side of the room. If you don't then stay over here."

Being all of about ten years old, I wasn't exactly sure what premarital sex was. I'd never heard the word premarital. I slowly inched my way over to the ok side since that's where most of the kids were headed, and sidled up to someone I knew. I asked in a whisper what premarital meant and she shrugged. When all was said and done, three quarters of the class of ten year olds apparently thought the sins of the flesh before marriage was just fine.

When he finally said, probably a little shocked, "You all believe it's ok to have sex before you are married?" I was relieved that I had picked the side I really did believe in. I obviously didn't know that much about sex, but it never occurred to me that it was wrong. Perhaps I missed all those sermons. I'm sure we received a stern lecture thereafter about how it was absolutely evil and sinful but like all things forgettable I forget.

What I do remember is that religion was never part of sex for me. I'm not saving myself for anyone. I've just gotten so good at being uncomfortable around men it's easier to avoid getting into a potential sexual situation. I guess I need someone who's willing to keep trying. I know, who has that kind of energy? All I can do is hope someone does. Won't the reward be all the sweeter? For us both?

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Who Would I "Do"?

I was fifteen the first time another girl hit on me. One summer evening at sleep away camp (don't they all begin like that?), my fellow campers and I slowly made our way to the communal bunk house. As we sat around chatting an older girl looked at me and said point blank, "Are you a lesbian?" I was caught off guard but collected myself enough to shake my head no. She shook her head and said loudly, "Why are all the cute ones straight?"

I have to admit, I did wonder there for a little while about my sexuality. I've never actually been attracted to a woman, but then again, I've only been attracted to a small number of men. In playing the 'what celebrity would you do' game there are always one or two beautiful women on the list along with all the beautiful men. Fantasizing about (celebrity) men and women were equal for a while, until I actually kissed a few guys and felt the sexual energy of it.

It's pretty easy to fantasize about something I have no fear of ever actually experiencing. I mean, if Vanessa Marcil came up to me and said 'let's get busy', I'd probably respond with 'um...maybe later. I have a stomach ache' and run out of the room even though she's absolutely gorgeous. However, if D said it with the promise that he wouldn't want to marry me I'd give him a strip tease to start us off.

Now the fantasies mostly involve males. And mostly D since I've apparently convinced myself that I'm comfortable with him. When it comes down to it (in academic terms since they are the only ones I know) they're still due to my childlike curiosity about physical pleasure, something I am old enough to know can be satisfied by a number of things. Because I have so little experience, all I can do is wonder.

Now before everyone starts with, you have lesbian fantasies? Get over yourself, you're gay, let me say this: no matter what your sexual orientation, if you haven't at least thought about it you're probably not human. Especially in today's sex sells culture. If you define homosexuality as simply intercourse with the same sex, then anyone who has had a homosexual experience (or mere thought) is gay in your book. If you include love, passion, understanding and promise in relation to intercourse between members of the same sex, well then you're defining homosexuality as a fulfilling relationship between two humans, just as heterosexuality is always assumed to be. You're also a liberal commie like me who wants everyone to be treated the same. But I digress.

Anyway, here's where I introduce the love element. Though I have not experienced romantic love with a male, I know I will. With a female? I have not, nor do I think I will ever.

As I've said before, many people ask when they hear the Jean story if she was in love with me. After we stopped speaking I found out through a friend that she, for whatever reason, admitted to having sex dreams about me. It struck me as rather funny that even though I loved her as my best friend and was forever hanging on her like a monkey, the thought of sex with her never crossed my mind. Maybe she treated me like shit because she was walking around with a perpetual case of blue balls. Ha!

A very close friend of mine who helped me deal with rebuilding myself after Jean, came out to me around the same time. I provided support for her as well and we created a pretty deep bond. Being of a more introverted type, it was only a matter of time before I started to feel a little suffocated by all her praise and support and needed time to myself. Then one day we had the conversation in which she beat around the bush for a while before saying, 'don't make me say it'. She was in love with me. I wanted to so badly to return the type of love she wanted but couldn't. She meant everything to me and I loved her as a friend, but faced with the prospect of sex with her? I knew right then that I could never with her or any other female. It made me incredibly sad and I pulled as far away from her as possible. Famous for shutting down others out, I was true to my reputation.

A year later we were able to re-establish a friendship because the bond we created was so strong. She told me that she mistook what she felt for me as love but was really more of a doctor patient thing where her devotion was due to the fact that I was the first person who had ever fully accepted her as she was. All this was realized after she met her first real love that is. I realized it after we stopped communicating and had had a chance to analyze our friendship.

And so there it is.

What people who know me know- I listen to a lot of female singer songwriters who happen to be lesbians. I am a feminist. I wear big black boots 9 months out of the year. I am mysterious about my sex life.

What anyone who reads this knows- I have the occasional fantasy about women. I am a virgin. I harp on old shit. And what I really want (when not wanting to be left alone) is a man to be part of an equal loving relationship with me...and of course sex me up until my eyeballs roll back.

Perhaps I'm sending mixed messages?

Sunday, August 27, 2006

50 Things You Didn't Ask To Know

I find these lists captivating on some blogs so I thought I'd post my own. Plus, I know at least one of you is curious to know more about this virgin. Humor me. 
1. I always have to have dessert. One cookie counts. 
2. I am younger than I look. 
3. I feel older than I am. 
4. I wore braces for 10 months, a retainer for 5 years and my teeth are still crooked. 
5. Though I have been told I have a great smile. 
6. I can't hear anything in a noisy place, but if it's quiet I can hear a pin drop.
7. I was somewhat popular in high school but I still hated it. 
8. The only other thing I regret about college, aside from not having any sexual experiences, is not partying more. 
9. I get nauseous a lot but I've only thrown up three times in my life. 
10. Only one of those times was from drinking. 
11. I have a different allergic reaction to different alcohol. 
12. Not one person I know knows about this blog. 
13. If they should accidentally come across it somehow and read some of my earlier entries they'd totally know it was me. Depending on who it was, I'd either feel incredibly awkward or incredibly curious as to if their opinion of me changed. 
14. I've backpacked through a lot of Western Europe on my own. 
15. Light sleeper is putting it mildly. Ear plugs are my best friends. 
16. Without music I'd shrivel up and die. 
17. I often cry at movies, but will bottle my emotions until the day I explode. 
18. I am very close to my parents though they now live hundreds of miles away. 
19. My anger is a three stop process. 1-quiet low voice 2-loud ranting vulgarity as long as person who has caused my anger is not present 3- laughter at how ridiculous all of it is. 
20. I quit a summer internship while in college because after only one day of organizing their CDs because that's all they had for me to do, I knew I'd be unfathomably bored. 
21. I can wiggle my ears. 
22. I am still computer illiterate when it comes to certain things and didn't realize until last week that my settings didn't allow anonymous comments. 
23. I'd love to be fluent in another language. Two or three even. 
24. I say I'm 5'7" but I'm really 5'6 and three quarters" 
25. #16 is a lie. Without my sense of humor I'd shrivel up and die. Without music I just couldn't function properly. 
26. I used to want to be an actress when I was young. (surprise!) 
27. Now I realize I am an actress sometimes, just not in the way I wanted to be. 
28. One of the top things on my list to do before I kick it is to get my short stories published. 
29. Bread is a staple. Red meat is not. 
30. I think about moving to the west coast or europe all the time. At the moment, I lack the cojones to do it. 
31. I'd rather sleep with a fan on than the AC (granted it's not sub sahara Africa.) 
32. I don't voice my political opinions unless others in the room feel the same way. I do not like to debate politics, mostly because people always end up shouting and insulting one another.
33. That said, I believe G.W. is a puppet and actually consumes oil in order to live. 
34. I usually like tall, lanky dark haired guys, but the occasional tall, lanky blonde makes an appearance. 
35. I'll probably end up with a short, pudgy red head (not that there's anything wrong with that...) 
36. Accents have a profound affect on me. If you are a tall, lanky brunette with an accent I will probably have a crush on you. 
37. TV is an addiction I am able to quit in the summer. 
38. I love a good long rainy day. 
39. My dream job would be to travel the world and get paid to write witty stories about my adventures. 
40. My second dream job = rock star on the lesser side of fame. 
41. I would love to knock a few people upside the head. 
42. I hope to meet a man endeared by my fears rather than irritated (as I am) by them. 
43. I wish I had a cat. 
44. I wish my ex-landlord would stop being a dick and give me back my deposit. 
45. I've never broken a bone. 
46. I've donated a total of 24 inches of hair to a place that makes wigs for children who have lost it to cancer and other disease. 
47. I find the societal expectations of a 28 year old American female to be absurd and yet often find myself pining over not meeting them. It's pretty infuriating.
48. I don't have any desire to live to be 100. 
49. I will run from a fight or any inkling of love every time. 
50. I may be a virgin, but I totally have a place reserved in hell.

Friday, August 25, 2006

To Just Know

In no way am I comparing myself to a woman who has was unjustly incarcerated for 20 years, but this feeling...this is what I want.

"He took my hand in his quite naturally. At once he realized...that I was just a frightened child dressed up as a woman.
I couldn't keep my mind from racing, wondering where all this would lead me. An irrepressible little voice whispered to me not to ask too many questions. He was handsome, young and full of life. Besides, he was so gentle, so normal, that suddenly I no longer felt afraid. With him, I have never been frightened...This was the first time that a man had made me feel...so safe."
-Malika Oufkir, Stolen Lives


I realize it is still idealistic to hope for a man to make me feel that way with just his presence and not his attempt to make it so, but I can't help it. My inner pessimist says I live in a fantasy word. My inner optimist...well it has obviously happened to her, a woman with all the odds against her, so maybe my day will come.

Monday, August 21, 2006

The Dark Side

My father has officially crossed over. He has said a total of four things to me about men during my entire lifetime, the first occurring after I graduated college. The last, about 2 days ago. (I suppose I should mention that he is not American. That should account for something if you must judge him by the following statments.)

1999 "You need to meet men. Go out to some bars!"

1999 (same conversation) "What about online or something?"

2006 "You should sign up for one of those dating sites. You should! You can meet men that way!"

2006 (same conversation) "You have to start having babies. Mom wants grandchildren. We both do so we can spoil them." (My brother's kids apparently don't count. Now there's a story for another day.)

At dad's request, any takers?? Or have I proven myself too much of an emotional idiot?

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Saved

I just realized...if I ever find myself in a terrifying, horror movie type situation, I will totally survive. Only the slutty girls die! Woohoo!

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Have Some Paranoia With Your Night Terrors

My body lets me know when it's feeling stressed by manifesting physical symptoms. At this point in my life, it has even determined specific symptoms for specific stresses, ie, general stress that becomes a little too much gives me indigestion and various forms of heartburn, nausea, etc. while heavier stress that has made its way into my subconscious gives me night terrors.

I started having these night terrors during the Jean fiasco. Of course, I didn't realize that's what they were when I was having them, but now that they seem to surface whenever I'm emotionally stressed about something I try to pretend I'm not, it seems a logical conclusion. The worse one I ever had I woke up from standing beside my bed shaking and scared out of my mind. I had to stare at the ceiling for a good five minutes before coming to the conclusion that there weren't any knives dangling from it.

They are usually extremely violent and feel extremely real. Sometimes they are just hints at violence. Lately they've moved into this surreal paranoid realm where I am sure someone or something is watching me. Whatever the case, they are always terrifying and I wake up in a state of utter fear and confusion.

Two nights ago I woke up hitting the bed next to me as a dark anaconda-like body slithered up from underneath it and brushed my arm. Scared the shit out me until I could slow down my breathing and convince myself it wasn't real. When I finally fell back asleep I dreamed about Jean. I was with her husband (the boy she dated in college who is not in fact her husband) and when she got off the bus from work she saw me and opened her arms and said, "I can't believe you've come! After all this time, I knew we could work this out." She then proceeded to hug her husband first before coming to me. I remember feeling very odd, almost like someone had dropped me into that scene and I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to work anything out with her.

Then yesterday I logged into an old account online and found an email from her. It is over a year and a half old and I only vaguely remember getting it, finding it irritating and ignoring it. It was two and a half years after we stopped speaking. And as in the hand written letter she sent the year before that, she claimed that our friendship meant (and still means if I would get back in touch with her) so much to her and she honestly didn't know what went wrong. She honestly didn't know. This after I replied to her hand written letter with one of my own explaining that it was not one thing that made me angry enough to stop speaking to her. I told her I couldn't go back through it all but that if she really had matured she should be able to look back and see how unbalanced our friendship was, and that it just wasn't meant to be.

Obviously she didn't get the hint. Or she needed some kind of closure by way of explanation. I feel no need to provide that for her. In writing what I did write, I was able to have closure for myself. Or so I thought...

I suppose it really never should have surprised me that an energy sucking black hole couldn't see why a relationship was one sided and hurtful. Perhaps it was true, perhaps she had changed and matured since then. By saying that, one would think it was also an admission that she was partly at fault, or at the very least partly immature thereby leading to some kind of emotional rift which there clearly was. But that would be wrong because she then asked what she did so she could apologize for it.

How does she not know that by doing that she negated the sincerity of the apology?

The whole forgive and forget thing…I'm not sure how far I am with either. Obviously I haven't forgotten, I know I never will, but as for forgive? I may have. I want to think I have…but that doesn't mean I ever want to see her again. She said she thought the reason for our "drifting apart" was because maybe stories were told and therefore our end was based on untruths. If she knew me at all, she'd know I'd never base the ending of a 6 year friendship ( 2.5 of which were extremely rocky teetering on horrible) on something I heard from someone. It only makes me sadder that everything I thought I saw in her, everything I thought we shared really was just me projecting. She never did take the time to know me. Why should she? I fit all her projections perfectly. Apparently we're both at fault.  

At any rate, it's just weird how all of a sudden she's in my subconscious again and I'm coming across letters at the same time, and of course now I think I'm seeing her places. Unresolved issues as my friend J would say? I dunno. I thought it was over. I thought I finally forgave myself for being a doormat. Perhaps I should rethink it. Uh. That statement alone makes me want to jump off a bridge. Why can't old shit just remain buried?
 
Last night I had another paranoid night terror. I even remember reaching up into the space above my bed, trying to grab the audio device I saw floating there. First of all, why the hell would anyone be listening to me sleep and b, wtf? a floating audio device? I even know my eyes were open because it felt like I was awake but trapped in a body over which I had no control. At some point I was able to shake it off….probably after staring at the ceiling for five minutes convincing myself none of it was real.

Very creepy.

But obviously things are going on in my subconscious (which I actually attribute to work stress, but may be related to Jean also??)

Do paranoid people know they're paranoid? If you are aware that you feel like someone is watching/listening but you're not totally sure if it's an actual reality, is it invalidated? That is, am I not technically paranoid because I am aware it's probably all in my mind?

Saturday, August 12, 2006

FSD

I suspect we've all had it at one time or another.

I just received my new copy of Bitch Magazine and read it through, cover to cover, like a good feminist. The article about the Pharmaceutical companies actually researching ways in which to sell woman "pink viagra" by making them worry about potential sexual problems made me think twice about my own um...non-sexual history.
"Female sexual dysfunction is listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (the official catalogue of mental illnesses), so if a woman is diagnosed with something that falls under the umbrella of FSD (say, lack of desire, lack of arousal, pain during intercourse, or lack of orgasm), she is automatically considered to have a mental disorder. A few generations ago, a woman might be considered mentally ill (more specifically, a nymphomaniac) if she wanted sex too much; these days a woman might just as easily be labeled mentally unsound if her libido is below "normal."
-"bad medicine Big Pharma's female trouble," Heather Hartley

I would definitely be interested in hearing what a psychologist had to say about me, but I highly doubt I would be diagnosed with a mental disorder, even if I did have a lack of desire, arousal and orgasm. At least...I hope. Yes of course your mental state affects your physical state, but it's just ridiculous to imagine you can reduce such widespread symptoms to a (gendered) mental disorder.

Wouldn't it be nice if it could be that cut and dry? I'm not having sex during what's supposed to be my prime because I have a mental disorder. I'll take some drugs and it'll all be better. According to their terms though, I don't really know if I have a lack of desire, etc. because there's no one asking me for sex at all, let alone when I'm not in the mood, to gauge the alleged normal libido. All I have to go on in that respect is self-love, so at least I do know that I can be aroused and have orgasms. Frequency would be the issue I guess.

And that is possibly yet another fear I have. Will I be expected to do it all the time? What if I'm not in the mood? A lot? I can go for weeks without a little howdyado, and I feel like though that's the norm for couples that have been together for a long time, not so much with the newer ones. He's either going to think I'm a tease or a tightass and won't stick around for long. Who wants to deal with that?

I never realized just how many ways I can justify removing myself from the entire dating/relationship process entirely based on sex. I don't want to get involved because I don't really know what to do. I don't want to get involved because it'll be expected of me and I hate expectations. I don't want to get involved because what if he wants to and I don't? Annoying. I wish I could shut off my brain. It's just useless projection and what does it matter anyway? Why can't I just let things take their course? I can do it with just about every other area of my life, to a degree anyway.

It's also really frustrating to hear that it isn't that big a deal and yet everything, everywhere has something to do with it. The act itself may not be, but remember how scared you were before you did it, or anything else that involves fear of the unknown? Ok, now multiply that by a hundred now that you're an adult and still haven't done it. No matter what the subject, it can be related back to sex. It's like the engine that runs the human race. I suppose that's actually a good metaphor in that sex keeps the population alive, but in mainstream culture, that's not the reason why it's done. We are a hedonistic bunch. I include myself in that because I want to be part of it, I'm just having a few issues getting there (perhaps due to my mentally unsound-ness.)

I shouldn't be surprised then to hear that Pharmaceuticals are trying to profit off the one thing that everyone, sans religious devotees, has in common. For once, it's even affecting men. Sex, sex, sex if you're not having it there must be something wrong with you. It's sexual terrorism. (Talk about dramatic!!) Next time you pop that viagra though, or whatever new drug they push on us for our sexual dysfunction, think about who you're actually helping.

Let's start making our own rules:
1. Pharmaceutical Companies do not have a say in what is and what is not normal human behavior.

Monday, August 07, 2006

My Gaydar Is Wrongly Attuned

How can I tell if a guy is gay?

If he's cute, wearing mint green shorts, an unmatching checkered blue shirt and I'm not attracted to him-
He's straight. Probably one of those rich playboys from the Hamptons who doesn't wear socks with boat shoes.

If he's cute, wearing mint green shorts, an unmatching checkered blue shirt and I am attracted to him-
He's gay. Probably hasn't come out yet which is why his shirt doesn't match his mint green shorts.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

If Only Anonymity Wasn't So...Anonymous

Carol: Hello! I filled your freezer again. There's now enough meat in there to feed every guy who answered your ad and still...whoa.
Sarah: Carol this is Jake. Jake did, in fact, answer the ad.
Jake: Do I get my meat?
-Must Love Dogs

If I could meet John Cusack through online dating, I would totally do it.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Unconsciously Celibate

My friends asked me again this weekend why I don't just marry D, the guy I had a huge crush on in high school, remain (long-distance) friends with today and actually tried one or two times to visit him to specifically see if the spark was there. He's the one I still consider sleeping with but know in my heart of hearts I won't because I don't want to hurt him.

They asked if I had ever slept in the same bed as him. I said yes. They were surprised. Seems I can still do that. Surprise them that is. Anyway, the first time I went to visit D, I went with the idea of a potential relationship in mind. Thus why I think I agreed to sleep in his bed. Being extremely respectful he stayed on his side until he got the nerve and threw his arm over my side. He asked if it was ok and I said yes. Mostly because I couldn't say no, but also because I liked it despite being completely freaked out and deciding that I didn't want to pursue anything. I pretty much froze with his arm over me. I don't remember much else but I'm sure I didn't sleep that night.

ISSUES!

So the spark wasn't there, nor was it the second time I visited, but I still harbor the desire for there to be. Every time I visit him or he visits me, I hope for the chemistry and at the same time know at this point it doesn't seem likely that I'll let myself feel it anyway. It's silly I know, and probably just a desperate attempt to believe that I can have the spark and the want to be with someone long term too. I dunno.

But I always come back to not wanting to hurt him. How presumptuous is that? If we got to really know one another again, by being in the same place at the same time for a length of time greater than 3 days, who's to say his crush on me wouldn't dissipate? Or mine on him wouldn't grow into love? (And I do have a crush without a spark. Actually, I have many of those. All on older men, aside from D who is my age, I think because they don't actually pose a threat and we can flirt without me having to worry about getting pregnant. Also, older men in general know how to make me feel good without coming across as only wanting to get in my pants. Though they make that desire clear as well...)

Why am I so obsessed with that spark?
And why haven't I really felt any chemistry with anyone?
Can I really do that much inhibiting with my mind?

Monday, July 24, 2006

The Hooch Says It All


A bartender once told me as I was peeling the label off of my bottle of Hooch (because I am that much of a drinker) that peeling the label off of bottles was a sign of sexual frustration. He walked away and I said to no one in particular, "am I that transparent?"

In retrospect, maybe he was hitting on me? But he walked away. And he didn't offer to relieve it so maybe not.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Life Sized And Everything

"You know I would never interrupt you when you're getting a piece of wood."
-Hollywood

Wow. A real/fake Kim Catrall.

Perhaps I should invest? Apparently I only have one sample to choose from. Charlie. On the couch or in a tub. I'd never have to worry about getting pregnant...or any sense of real life. It's the epitome of vicarious!

Hey Chuck, can you make my dreams come true?

Right. I can't even buy myself a vibrator. That's a mixture of embarrassment and fear that if I do get one, I'll keep my crown forever.

Where would I even start anyway? There are so many to chose from. The Astrea I? Really? Do people need to have orgasms at parties?

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Queen Vee's Vicarious Sex Education

A list of firsts as I can best remember. Many other scenes may have been witnessed by these eyes before I could record them mentally, but these are the basis of my enlightenment. Enjoy.

My first vicarious visual of a man's penis: Wild Things
Kevin Bacon, you were my first! And yes, I was in college. Someone just buy me a freakin' habit already. Only a glimpse, but I count it. Never saw An Officer And A Gentleman. My first porn was later in college. Some friends and I rented this Italian one because Jean and I thought it had a storyline. Pretty much just scene after scene of 6 guys cumming on one girl's face. The Ron Jeremy flick I saw years later was much more entertaining. (Strangely, this is the only lesson I actually learned before vicariously experiencing it. I was about 8 years old and playing with my friend who lived down the street when the bathroom door opened. There was her brother, naked and balancing on top of the laundry hamper. I couldn't imagine what that thing was dangling between his legs.)

My first vicarious visual of another woman's vagina: Basic Instinct
Ok so I was like 14. On a family vacation out West my father and I rented a movie in the hotel room while my mom went to sleep. Obviously he didn't know the movie content. As the sex scenes revved up I would look at him, more interested in his reaction to the fact that I was watching it than actually watching it. When he noticed he threw a pillow at my face and said, "cover your eyes." I knew then that he knew I knew about sex. I was naive what can I say?

My first vicarious witness to a female flip her bean: Sliver
Oddly enough another Sharon Stone flick two years later. Again, I told you I was naive. That whole shower scene is burned into my brain and to this day makes me completely paranoid that someone is watching me. Obnoxious.

My first vicarious simulation of a male spank his frank: Pump Up The Volume
(I have seen more actual public spankings than I want to, and in light of that I think I just can't remember the first actual vicarious one.) Ah the innocence. I had no clue why Christian Slater was making that noise until someone told me later. I could claim it as not really paying attention to the movie, but we all know the truth.

My first vicarious blow job: Heathers
I thought I was so badass when I saw this movie because it was rated R. I went over to JU's house, a rebel of sorts at 11 years old, and watched it with her and her older sister (who ended up being sent to boarding school after she dropped her hair dryer in the sink while the faucet was on. On purpose.) Of course, I didn't actually know the meaning behind the Maxell poster until a year or two later when I learned what a blowjob was on the school bus.


My first vicarious lick job: I don't know the name of it, but I'm pretty sure it starred Mary Stuart Masterson or at least an actress that looks like her.
All I remember is she's at work on the phone and this guy under her desk goes down on her. It's all she can do to keep from moaning into the phone. It was all I could do to keep from crying that I'd never felt that pleasure.

My latest vicarious experience of double oral and rough sex: A History Of Violence
I admit, had to rewind both scenes and watch them again. Not a lot is shown but damn does it point you in the right direction. Couldn't get either out of my head for a long time until...

My latest vicarious sex experience: P.S.
Oh the mounting. And on Topher Grace, one of my favorites. He calls himself wirey in the movie which makes me like his skinny ass even more. Maybe it's because you can't see anything but her slow bouncing that this scene will not leave me alone. Imagination is a powerful thing. I found myself replaying it in my head on my morning commute the other day and had to force myself to stop before things got too exciting. Ah Laura Linney you made it look so easy and enjoyable.