Every year, I make New Year's resolutions that I know I'll never keep. But I thought that this year, I would focus my resolutions on the things that are important to me. It will be interesting to compare my success with my goals at the end of next year. So without further ado, I give you the self-improvement resolutions for 2006:
1) Listen more, talk less
2) Do more things that scare me
3) Change the things that I don't like about myself; accept the things I cannot change; become a better friend, sister and daughter in the process
4) Learn about the things that interest me
5) Strive to improve myself through the arts, literature and conversations with strangers
And now, the resolutions that are rolling over from last year that I doubt very much I'll keep (but might make some progress on):
1) Lose that 10 pounds I've gained since college
2) Drink less (applicable to both Coca Cola products and alcohol)
3) Clean up my language
4) Resist the temptation of recycling old boyfriends
12.30.2005
12.29.2005
A film critique: Memoirs of a Geisha
I went to see the film Memoirs of a Geisha today. I've read the book probably half a dozen times, so I have to admit that I had high expectations.
First of all, the film is visually stunning. As someone who is not well-versed in the Geisha culture of Japan, I had a hard time imagining the elaborate costumes, locations and scenery described in the book. The film takes great care to make everything appear genuine and realistic. Much of the book is dedicated to description, so with the film there is a lot more room for dialogue and interactions between the characters. I liked that aspect.
Another thing that I liked was that the film kept the bones of the book intact, for the most part. There were some scenes (like a fire in the okiya and an American colonel) that never surfaced in the book, but I felt that the changes the filmmakers made helped to move the plot along and didn't detract from the point of the film itself.
If you haven't read the book, I'd recommend doing so. It might have been kind of hard to follow along otherwise, because certain key themes from the book (what a danna is, for example) weren't really expanded upon in the film. It would have been pretty easy for "older sister" Mameha to explain that a danna was more than just a customer of a geisha, but a companion. A geisha became like a second wife to her danna and therefore afforded certain priveleges to him that an ordinary customer would not receive. I don't think that was made clear in the movie version.
Finally, I didn't feel that the relationships between the film's main character (Sayuri) and some of the film's more minor characters (Nobu and the Chairman) were really as deep as they could have been. That could have been because there was so much ground to cover. They never got into the fact that Sayuri and Nobu were actually great friends, or that the Chairman for the most part ignored Sayuri during her time as a geisha.
Overall, I think the film was good, but didn't really exceed my expectations. Final grade: B+
First of all, the film is visually stunning. As someone who is not well-versed in the Geisha culture of Japan, I had a hard time imagining the elaborate costumes, locations and scenery described in the book. The film takes great care to make everything appear genuine and realistic. Much of the book is dedicated to description, so with the film there is a lot more room for dialogue and interactions between the characters. I liked that aspect.
Another thing that I liked was that the film kept the bones of the book intact, for the most part. There were some scenes (like a fire in the okiya and an American colonel) that never surfaced in the book, but I felt that the changes the filmmakers made helped to move the plot along and didn't detract from the point of the film itself.
If you haven't read the book, I'd recommend doing so. It might have been kind of hard to follow along otherwise, because certain key themes from the book (what a danna is, for example) weren't really expanded upon in the film. It would have been pretty easy for "older sister" Mameha to explain that a danna was more than just a customer of a geisha, but a companion. A geisha became like a second wife to her danna and therefore afforded certain priveleges to him that an ordinary customer would not receive. I don't think that was made clear in the movie version.
Finally, I didn't feel that the relationships between the film's main character (Sayuri) and some of the film's more minor characters (Nobu and the Chairman) were really as deep as they could have been. That could have been because there was so much ground to cover. They never got into the fact that Sayuri and Nobu were actually great friends, or that the Chairman for the most part ignored Sayuri during her time as a geisha.
Overall, I think the film was good, but didn't really exceed my expectations. Final grade: B+
12.28.2005
I was at the gay bar last night, when...
My friend Rebecca and I hit the Nasty 'Nati last night for some fun. Her friend Megan, Megan's brother Kyle and Kyle's friend decided to go to a club called Purgatory. Becca and I went with. Purgatory is a pretty fun club in downtown, and Tuesday night is gay night at the club.
As a woman, gay night at a dance club is the best invention ever. You get to get all dolled up and dance your a$$ off without the worry of getting hit on. No guy who comes up to dance with you on gay night is trying to take you home. Plus, most of the gay men that I know are a) a complete blast to hang out with; b) incredibly and ego-boostingly gorgeous; and c) great dancers. It is the best of both worlds.
So how random is it that the only two straight guys in the club last night ended up hitting on Rebecca and me? Just sort of funny that we went to gay night to get a little skanked out and have a good time and still ended up getting hit on. By a guy named Constantine. Yes, Constantine.
As a woman, gay night at a dance club is the best invention ever. You get to get all dolled up and dance your a$$ off without the worry of getting hit on. No guy who comes up to dance with you on gay night is trying to take you home. Plus, most of the gay men that I know are a) a complete blast to hang out with; b) incredibly and ego-boostingly gorgeous; and c) great dancers. It is the best of both worlds.
So how random is it that the only two straight guys in the club last night ended up hitting on Rebecca and me? Just sort of funny that we went to gay night to get a little skanked out and have a good time and still ended up getting hit on. By a guy named Constantine. Yes, Constantine.
12.22.2005
Assholes...everyone has one. Some people have two.
My life is filled with fucking assholes.
Example 1: The Big Cheese is in from L.A. this week and sent out a fire-and-brimstone memo to the staff saying that there will be major cuts in expenses, salaries and staff. No word yet on when these cuts will be made. But it was nice of him to inform us three days before Christmas that we might be in jeopardy of losing our jobs. No one knows for sure who will get canned, who will be asked to take a cut, or how we'll all be affected by these cuts. Fucking Asshole.
Example 2: I have this tentative pseudo-friendship with Andy going on. It is nice: I find I like him a lot better when I'm not dating him. And we both know that there is no chance in hell of us getting back together. It is an unspoken understanding.
So when he asked me if I wanted to go see the Nutcracker, I figured "why the hell not." The show is supposed to be tonight. Did he ever call to confirm that we're actually going (even though he supposedly already bought the tickets, as per a conversation that we had a few weeks ago)? No. So when I called to see if we are supposed to be hanging out tonight, I find that he's gone to work. This is why we aren't dating anymore: because he is too inconsiderate to offer an explanation for his flightiness. Good thing I assumed that he'd flake and had already made other plans. Fucking Asshole.
Okay, needed to vent that. I'm going to go home and have a nice vodka tonic. Maybe two. And hope that Lori hurries up and gets home so we can hit the street with hottie Terry and have a good ol' time.
Example 1: The Big Cheese is in from L.A. this week and sent out a fire-and-brimstone memo to the staff saying that there will be major cuts in expenses, salaries and staff. No word yet on when these cuts will be made. But it was nice of him to inform us three days before Christmas that we might be in jeopardy of losing our jobs. No one knows for sure who will get canned, who will be asked to take a cut, or how we'll all be affected by these cuts. Fucking Asshole.
Example 2: I have this tentative pseudo-friendship with Andy going on. It is nice: I find I like him a lot better when I'm not dating him. And we both know that there is no chance in hell of us getting back together. It is an unspoken understanding.
So when he asked me if I wanted to go see the Nutcracker, I figured "why the hell not." The show is supposed to be tonight. Did he ever call to confirm that we're actually going (even though he supposedly already bought the tickets, as per a conversation that we had a few weeks ago)? No. So when I called to see if we are supposed to be hanging out tonight, I find that he's gone to work. This is why we aren't dating anymore: because he is too inconsiderate to offer an explanation for his flightiness. Good thing I assumed that he'd flake and had already made other plans. Fucking Asshole.
Okay, needed to vent that. I'm going to go home and have a nice vodka tonic. Maybe two. And hope that Lori hurries up and gets home so we can hit the street with hottie Terry and have a good ol' time.
12.21.2005
Goodbye, boobies!
I got my breast reduction approved. Yipee! I will have surgery on February 14 -- Valentine's Day -- so this year I'll have something to look forward to...like being doped up on painkillers. At least I won't be alone. :)
I will probably blog a little bit about the experience, I hope its not too much for some of you! I think it will be a really positive change in my life...just one of many...and so I can't wait for it to happen!
I will probably blog a little bit about the experience, I hope its not too much for some of you! I think it will be a really positive change in my life...just one of many...and so I can't wait for it to happen!
12.15.2005
On Friendship
It is sad, the growing apart of friends. Whether due to the busy-ness of everyday life, circumstances beyond our control, the loss of commonalities or simply the passage of time, it hurts to lose a friend, literally or metaphorically speaking. When it comes to friendship, how do you know where you stand?
This has been on my mind a lot recently, because I've "lost" several friends. One person was toxic, so I cut him out of my life. One person entered rehab, a move that probably saved his life, for which I am incredibly grateful. And one I've simply grown apart from: J.
Since moving back to Dayton after graduation a few years ago, the one friend that I've felt I could always count on has been J. Sure, I get on her nerves and she gets on mine, but eventually everything worked itself out. We'd have a silly girls night out (or in) and all would be forgotten. I most definitely considered her my best friend in Dayton.
But lately it hasn't been the same. She has just recently completed her first semester of law school, the hardest semester of her life, to be sure. I know that it was challenging for her...especially considering that she is also raising an amazing and rambunctious 4-year-old. It's become pretty hard to get ahold of her. When she's not in class, she's studying. When she's not studying, she's raising her daughter. When she's not raising her daughter, she's with her boyfriend. When she's not with her boyfriend...well, I have no idea where she is.
I have a vague idea about how she spends her time, because I see her away messages when we're both online. But I can't actually remember the last time we spoke on the phone. We used to talk every day, sometimes twice a day...and now I can't remember the last conversation we had.
I saw her at BW3 the night before Thanksgiving. It was the first time I'd seen her in a while...I was hanging out with her boyfriend and some other mutual friends. She spotted me and seemed surprised to see me:
"I didn't know you were going to be out tonight," she said.
"Yup!" I replied brightly. But I couldn't help that niggling little thought in the back of my head: You would have known if you ever thought to call me.
I know that the street runs both ways. And maybe I'm being overly sensitive; after all, she is in one of the busiest times of her life. But I feel like I've made the effort, plenty of times. It just seems that, on her days off, she's always had something better to do, something more important, someone else to hang out with (like her boyfriend).
Let me make one thing very clear: I do not begrudge the fact that J. has a boyfriend and I don't. She has had to deal with a lot of shit in her life. It is hard to be a single mom - but she has handled the situation with a grace and resilience that humbles me, and that I deeply admire. Her boyfriend treats her well and is good to her and accepting of her child. She deserves that happiness; but at the expense of a friendship? Of course there is a certain amount of envy: She has a good relationship, and I want that for myself. But it certainly isn't to the extent that her relationship with her boyfriend is a point of contention for me.
The real boy who is a point of contention between J. and myself is my "relationship" with my ex-boyfriend. I think that to a certain extent, she doesn't approve of my newly formed pseudo-frienship with him - and with good reason, for if the situation were reversed, I wouldn't approve either. How many times did I call her when he and I were together to vent my frustration about the situation? How many times did I lean on her and cry about the way that he treated me and the way he made me feel.
I suffered through a bit of an identity crisis when I was with him - I wasn't the opinionated woman who wouldn't take shit from a guy. I let slide some of the things that I had previously said were important to me in a relationship. She saw her friend hurting and changing for a guy who wasn't worth her time, and that bothered her. She doesn't want me to be in a situation where I might do that to myself again. I get that.
And when she finally yelled at me and let her frustration show in an attempt to snap me back to reality (which, frankly, is exactly what I would have done in a reversed situation) I got my feathers all ruffled because despite the fact that she was right, it wasn't what I wanted to hear. She spoke her mind, but I didn't want to hear it...I just felt like she was judging me. In reality, she just doesn't want to see me get hurt.
But its more than just the fact that she doesn't like who I let myself become when I was dating my ex-boyfriend. It is also the fact that we just never talk anymore. She's got this law school thing, and all of these new law school friends that she hang out with, and I don't. There is no attempt on her part to integrate the new friends with the old friends. I guess I feel a little left out, a little left behind.
So I sit here, feeling rather sorry for myself, missing my best friend and wondering if she even notices. I actually had to check my caller ID to find out the last time I've had a missed or incoming call from her...her number didn't even show up on the call list (which dates back to November.) And as I sit here, I'm half hoping that things will go back to "normal"...and I'm half thinking that they won't, and my concept of "normal" will become the past.
How do you make time for the new endeavors that you undertake without losing touch with the old friends, and with your old self? You don't. You pick and choose priorities, and sometimes people fall through the cracks. "I'll call her tomorrow" turns into next week, next month. The longer you go without talking, the harder it becomes to actually pick up the phone and call.
And so rather than actually picking up the phone I write it all down. It is easier for me to vent through the anonymity of the Internet than to do so in person or on the phone. It is easier to avoid direct conflict that way. And a little cowardly, even, but pride goeth before the fall and all that.
I guess the lesson learned through this carthatic expulsion of emotion is that sometimes you just have to swallow your pride and keep making the effort, and hope that in doing so, the effort pays off. Or at least brings some resolution to the contrary. After all, it is easier to accept the growing apart of friends when there is someone else to blame than yourself.
This has been on my mind a lot recently, because I've "lost" several friends. One person was toxic, so I cut him out of my life. One person entered rehab, a move that probably saved his life, for which I am incredibly grateful. And one I've simply grown apart from: J.
Since moving back to Dayton after graduation a few years ago, the one friend that I've felt I could always count on has been J. Sure, I get on her nerves and she gets on mine, but eventually everything worked itself out. We'd have a silly girls night out (or in) and all would be forgotten. I most definitely considered her my best friend in Dayton.
But lately it hasn't been the same. She has just recently completed her first semester of law school, the hardest semester of her life, to be sure. I know that it was challenging for her...especially considering that she is also raising an amazing and rambunctious 4-year-old. It's become pretty hard to get ahold of her. When she's not in class, she's studying. When she's not studying, she's raising her daughter. When she's not raising her daughter, she's with her boyfriend. When she's not with her boyfriend...well, I have no idea where she is.
I have a vague idea about how she spends her time, because I see her away messages when we're both online. But I can't actually remember the last time we spoke on the phone. We used to talk every day, sometimes twice a day...and now I can't remember the last conversation we had.
I saw her at BW3 the night before Thanksgiving. It was the first time I'd seen her in a while...I was hanging out with her boyfriend and some other mutual friends. She spotted me and seemed surprised to see me:
"I didn't know you were going to be out tonight," she said.
"Yup!" I replied brightly. But I couldn't help that niggling little thought in the back of my head: You would have known if you ever thought to call me.
I know that the street runs both ways. And maybe I'm being overly sensitive; after all, she is in one of the busiest times of her life. But I feel like I've made the effort, plenty of times. It just seems that, on her days off, she's always had something better to do, something more important, someone else to hang out with (like her boyfriend).
Let me make one thing very clear: I do not begrudge the fact that J. has a boyfriend and I don't. She has had to deal with a lot of shit in her life. It is hard to be a single mom - but she has handled the situation with a grace and resilience that humbles me, and that I deeply admire. Her boyfriend treats her well and is good to her and accepting of her child. She deserves that happiness; but at the expense of a friendship? Of course there is a certain amount of envy: She has a good relationship, and I want that for myself. But it certainly isn't to the extent that her relationship with her boyfriend is a point of contention for me.
The real boy who is a point of contention between J. and myself is my "relationship" with my ex-boyfriend. I think that to a certain extent, she doesn't approve of my newly formed pseudo-frienship with him - and with good reason, for if the situation were reversed, I wouldn't approve either. How many times did I call her when he and I were together to vent my frustration about the situation? How many times did I lean on her and cry about the way that he treated me and the way he made me feel.
I suffered through a bit of an identity crisis when I was with him - I wasn't the opinionated woman who wouldn't take shit from a guy. I let slide some of the things that I had previously said were important to me in a relationship. She saw her friend hurting and changing for a guy who wasn't worth her time, and that bothered her. She doesn't want me to be in a situation where I might do that to myself again. I get that.
And when she finally yelled at me and let her frustration show in an attempt to snap me back to reality (which, frankly, is exactly what I would have done in a reversed situation) I got my feathers all ruffled because despite the fact that she was right, it wasn't what I wanted to hear. She spoke her mind, but I didn't want to hear it...I just felt like she was judging me. In reality, she just doesn't want to see me get hurt.
But its more than just the fact that she doesn't like who I let myself become when I was dating my ex-boyfriend. It is also the fact that we just never talk anymore. She's got this law school thing, and all of these new law school friends that she hang out with, and I don't. There is no attempt on her part to integrate the new friends with the old friends. I guess I feel a little left out, a little left behind.
So I sit here, feeling rather sorry for myself, missing my best friend and wondering if she even notices. I actually had to check my caller ID to find out the last time I've had a missed or incoming call from her...her number didn't even show up on the call list (which dates back to November.) And as I sit here, I'm half hoping that things will go back to "normal"...and I'm half thinking that they won't, and my concept of "normal" will become the past.
How do you make time for the new endeavors that you undertake without losing touch with the old friends, and with your old self? You don't. You pick and choose priorities, and sometimes people fall through the cracks. "I'll call her tomorrow" turns into next week, next month. The longer you go without talking, the harder it becomes to actually pick up the phone and call.
And so rather than actually picking up the phone I write it all down. It is easier for me to vent through the anonymity of the Internet than to do so in person or on the phone. It is easier to avoid direct conflict that way. And a little cowardly, even, but pride goeth before the fall and all that.
I guess the lesson learned through this carthatic expulsion of emotion is that sometimes you just have to swallow your pride and keep making the effort, and hope that in doing so, the effort pays off. Or at least brings some resolution to the contrary. After all, it is easier to accept the growing apart of friends when there is someone else to blame than yourself.
12.10.2005
Where do your dreams go?
Where do your dreams go when you're done dreaming them?
I ask this because I've been trying to remember lately why I chose my profession. Don't get me wrong - I love being in public relations, and I'm very, very good at what I do. I declared my major in college and never looked back. I absolutely made the right career choice, one that I've never regretted. In the grand scheme of things, I'm probably pretty lucky to actually be doing (and liking) what I set out to do in the first place.
But that's not what I wanted to be when I was a child. The life that I have created for myself wasn't a childhood dream. Actually, when I was a kid, I wanted to be an entertainer. I wanted to be an actress, a singer, a fashion icon. I wanted to be rich and famous. At what point did I stop dreaming about being all of those things? At what point did I succum to reality and decide to be something more practical?
I sometimes wish that I had followed that dream. I was in drama club in high school, was in the school's talent show...I even wanted to go to Los Angeles the summer between my senior year in h.s. and freshman year in college to try to "make it." Looking back, what could I have accomplished in three months, really?
But I never followed through on that dream. I'm too practical for that. When it comes to my livelihood and well-being, I'm not a risk taker. I need to know where I'm going to live, where my next paycheck is coming from, etc. So even though picking up and moving to a basement apartment in Venice Beach sounded exciting (and still does, I have to admit) I could never actually bring myself to do it.
That's the same reason I didn't move to Chicago right after graduating from college, even though it is a city where I've always wanted to live. I had just graduated, didn't have a job, didn't have a roommate, didn't have a place to live...it seemed like the list of what I didn't have and couldn't count on was too long to even consider. So I opted for practicality and moved back home with my parents.
And I'm still there today.
So I look back and I wonder whether I made the right decisions. I look back on the dreams that I had for myself, and I'm not really sure when or how I decided they couldn't come true. And I wonder: Can we ever really be sure of the path that we create for ourselves?
Question: What did you want to be when you grew up?
I ask this because I've been trying to remember lately why I chose my profession. Don't get me wrong - I love being in public relations, and I'm very, very good at what I do. I declared my major in college and never looked back. I absolutely made the right career choice, one that I've never regretted. In the grand scheme of things, I'm probably pretty lucky to actually be doing (and liking) what I set out to do in the first place.
But that's not what I wanted to be when I was a child. The life that I have created for myself wasn't a childhood dream. Actually, when I was a kid, I wanted to be an entertainer. I wanted to be an actress, a singer, a fashion icon. I wanted to be rich and famous. At what point did I stop dreaming about being all of those things? At what point did I succum to reality and decide to be something more practical?
I sometimes wish that I had followed that dream. I was in drama club in high school, was in the school's talent show...I even wanted to go to Los Angeles the summer between my senior year in h.s. and freshman year in college to try to "make it." Looking back, what could I have accomplished in three months, really?
But I never followed through on that dream. I'm too practical for that. When it comes to my livelihood and well-being, I'm not a risk taker. I need to know where I'm going to live, where my next paycheck is coming from, etc. So even though picking up and moving to a basement apartment in Venice Beach sounded exciting (and still does, I have to admit) I could never actually bring myself to do it.
That's the same reason I didn't move to Chicago right after graduating from college, even though it is a city where I've always wanted to live. I had just graduated, didn't have a job, didn't have a roommate, didn't have a place to live...it seemed like the list of what I didn't have and couldn't count on was too long to even consider. So I opted for practicality and moved back home with my parents.
And I'm still there today.
So I look back and I wonder whether I made the right decisions. I look back on the dreams that I had for myself, and I'm not really sure when or how I decided they couldn't come true. And I wonder: Can we ever really be sure of the path that we create for ourselves?
Question: What did you want to be when you grew up?
12.06.2005
Snow showers
I'm waiting for the snow.
The first big snowfall of the season is supposed to occur tonight, and I can't wait. I love the first snowfall, especially this close to Christmas. It truly feels like the holidays when there are a couple of inches of snow glistening in the yards.
The clouds build up steadily throughout the day, and you can smell it in the air that something is about to happen. The atmosphere gets heavy. The first few snowflakes drift down - hopefully, big, fat flakes that stick to your nose and forehead and eyelashes. And of course, you have to catch a couple on your tongue, a throw-back to childhood that is just too good to pass up.
There is a silence to snow....the whole world gets quiet. You're cocooned inside your house, all snuggly with a thick sweater and a fire and hot chocolate. Its like being in a snow globe, all beautiful and quiet and still. And the moonlight! The whole world takes on an ethereal glimmer.
The first snow should be celebrated. I can't wait for it to come down!
The first big snowfall of the season is supposed to occur tonight, and I can't wait. I love the first snowfall, especially this close to Christmas. It truly feels like the holidays when there are a couple of inches of snow glistening in the yards.
The clouds build up steadily throughout the day, and you can smell it in the air that something is about to happen. The atmosphere gets heavy. The first few snowflakes drift down - hopefully, big, fat flakes that stick to your nose and forehead and eyelashes. And of course, you have to catch a couple on your tongue, a throw-back to childhood that is just too good to pass up.
There is a silence to snow....the whole world gets quiet. You're cocooned inside your house, all snuggly with a thick sweater and a fire and hot chocolate. Its like being in a snow globe, all beautiful and quiet and still. And the moonlight! The whole world takes on an ethereal glimmer.
The first snow should be celebrated. I can't wait for it to come down!
12.02.2005
Seriously? No, SERIOUSLY?!
And this is why I started this blog. Because things like the scenario that follows only happen to me. First, a little history. Then the actual point of this post.
Meet Jason (fondly remembered as squinty-eyed Jason to some...), a man 7 years my senior whom I dated briefly (read: 2 months) in 2003. He is a nice enough guy, for a rocket scientist. Literally, a rocket scientist: He was getting his Master's in aerospace engineering via a certain branch of our fine country's armed forces.
Things went south after a few weeks of dating...that happens to me sometimes. I think I like a guy, we date for a bit, and then I get bored and stop dating them. The boyfriends I have had (three official ones) have been the guys that capture my interest immediately and then keep capturing it. Aaaaanyway, that's what happened with Jason - after a few weeks, he started to annoy me and I got bored. I thought I'd just stick it out and see if his annoying habits became less annoying over time. They didn't. I started to pull away. He started to cling harder. Oh god.
And then the fateful night that will be indelibly printed on my mind forever, and the night that I officially became the worst person in the world: New Year's Eve, 2003. A party at my house. A very fun party, with lots of food and drink, and a few good friends. The perfect get-together. Until HE showed up - that'd be Jason. Already slightly drunk from another party he'd attended. Ready to ring in the new year with his girl. Ew.
I'm not even sure how it started...but somehow, we started arguing. He pulled me out onto the front porch of my house. More arguing ensued. Then the unacceptable: He yelled, "What the f*#%, LAUREN!" and did that whole angry moving your body towards the other person thing. Hands in the air, flailing wildly.
Oh. No. He. Didn't.
I politely responded that no one speaks to me in that way. Then I told him to get the f#$% out of my house. Immediately. And that is when he started crying. I kid you not, ladies and gentlemen. Crying real, grown-men tears. Over a girl he'd known exactly two months?
Oh. No. He. Didn't.
And that is when I told him he really needed to leave. That it wasn't working out. That he really needed to go, because I didn't want him at my house anymore. Yes, I "broke up" with him on New Year's Eve.
He ended up leaving, and a few days after the "break up" when I dropped off the alcohol he'd left at my house (there was no way I was keeping that shit) he told me about a very informative story he'd seen on CNN, about couples who had been married less than a year but were already having trouble. He informed me that he could see parallels between our relationship and the ones on tv. He felt that we could work through our problems, and take some of the marriage counseling tips that the CNN story had and apply them to our relationship to make it better. I told him no. He started crying again. I got out of there - fast.
And then he started stalking me.
I guess technically it isn't stalking - not in that scary, police on speed dial, restraining order stalking way. But he called me every Wednesday, at the same time of day, for a month. He emailed me three or four times a week (plaintively asking "why aren't you returning my calls?" each time). Until I finally told him that I thought it would be a good idea if he stopped contacting me altogether. When he moved to California in May of 2004, I was relieved that I'd never see/hear from him again.
The emails started coming about a year after we met, but only sporadically and always very neutral in tone - you know, the "how is the family" and "how was your Christmas"-type emails. I send friendly replies. I send Christmas cards. But that is the extent of it. Until today, when I received an email informing me that he'd been in my neck of the woods next week. Keep in mind that my neck of the woods is Dayton, Ohio. He'll be in Nashville, Tennessee. And as he said in his email, "I know its kinda far, but if you can make it down, we can party like country rock stars, plus you'll have a place to stay. I'm staying at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel..."
Seriously? No, SERIOUSLY?! You crazy-ass muthafucka, did you seriously just ask me to drive to Nashville to see and STAY WITH YOU after I haven't seen you for TWO YEARS? And, like, who else does this happen to? And by this, I mean stalker-esque, squinty-eyed, emotionally damaged ex-whatever-he-is's asking them to come visit him in Nashville, a good 6 hour drive away. When, for all he knows, I could very well have a boyfriend (and I did, the last time I talked to him) or be married or a lesbian or JUST NOT INTERESTED.
Now, am I being a little over sensitive, or is that just weird? And how do I keep this from happening again? Thoughts, reactions, gag reflexes? C'mon people!
Meet Jason (fondly remembered as squinty-eyed Jason to some...), a man 7 years my senior whom I dated briefly (read: 2 months) in 2003. He is a nice enough guy, for a rocket scientist. Literally, a rocket scientist: He was getting his Master's in aerospace engineering via a certain branch of our fine country's armed forces.
Things went south after a few weeks of dating...that happens to me sometimes. I think I like a guy, we date for a bit, and then I get bored and stop dating them. The boyfriends I have had (three official ones) have been the guys that capture my interest immediately and then keep capturing it. Aaaaanyway, that's what happened with Jason - after a few weeks, he started to annoy me and I got bored. I thought I'd just stick it out and see if his annoying habits became less annoying over time. They didn't. I started to pull away. He started to cling harder. Oh god.
And then the fateful night that will be indelibly printed on my mind forever, and the night that I officially became the worst person in the world: New Year's Eve, 2003. A party at my house. A very fun party, with lots of food and drink, and a few good friends. The perfect get-together. Until HE showed up - that'd be Jason. Already slightly drunk from another party he'd attended. Ready to ring in the new year with his girl. Ew.
I'm not even sure how it started...but somehow, we started arguing. He pulled me out onto the front porch of my house. More arguing ensued. Then the unacceptable: He yelled, "What the f*#%, LAUREN!" and did that whole angry moving your body towards the other person thing. Hands in the air, flailing wildly.
Oh. No. He. Didn't.
I politely responded that no one speaks to me in that way. Then I told him to get the f#$% out of my house. Immediately. And that is when he started crying. I kid you not, ladies and gentlemen. Crying real, grown-men tears. Over a girl he'd known exactly two months?
Oh. No. He. Didn't.
And that is when I told him he really needed to leave. That it wasn't working out. That he really needed to go, because I didn't want him at my house anymore. Yes, I "broke up" with him on New Year's Eve.
He ended up leaving, and a few days after the "break up" when I dropped off the alcohol he'd left at my house (there was no way I was keeping that shit) he told me about a very informative story he'd seen on CNN, about couples who had been married less than a year but were already having trouble. He informed me that he could see parallels between our relationship and the ones on tv. He felt that we could work through our problems, and take some of the marriage counseling tips that the CNN story had and apply them to our relationship to make it better. I told him no. He started crying again. I got out of there - fast.
And then he started stalking me.
I guess technically it isn't stalking - not in that scary, police on speed dial, restraining order stalking way. But he called me every Wednesday, at the same time of day, for a month. He emailed me three or four times a week (plaintively asking "why aren't you returning my calls?" each time). Until I finally told him that I thought it would be a good idea if he stopped contacting me altogether. When he moved to California in May of 2004, I was relieved that I'd never see/hear from him again.
The emails started coming about a year after we met, but only sporadically and always very neutral in tone - you know, the "how is the family" and "how was your Christmas"-type emails. I send friendly replies. I send Christmas cards. But that is the extent of it. Until today, when I received an email informing me that he'd been in my neck of the woods next week. Keep in mind that my neck of the woods is Dayton, Ohio. He'll be in Nashville, Tennessee. And as he said in his email, "I know its kinda far, but if you can make it down, we can party like country rock stars, plus you'll have a place to stay. I'm staying at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel..."
Seriously? No, SERIOUSLY?! You crazy-ass muthafucka, did you seriously just ask me to drive to Nashville to see and STAY WITH YOU after I haven't seen you for TWO YEARS? And, like, who else does this happen to? And by this, I mean stalker-esque, squinty-eyed, emotionally damaged ex-whatever-he-is's asking them to come visit him in Nashville, a good 6 hour drive away. When, for all he knows, I could very well have a boyfriend (and I did, the last time I talked to him) or be married or a lesbian or JUST NOT INTERESTED.
Now, am I being a little over sensitive, or is that just weird? And how do I keep this from happening again? Thoughts, reactions, gag reflexes? C'mon people!
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