Notes from Barcelona: Chapter 3 - Wide-Eyed and Slightly Bushy-Tailed

When I get out on the town, it's late for food, but the neighborhood is amazingly bustling for a Monday night I think. Emma and her husband suggested a place for dinner and writing that's still social but it was closed so I kept milling around and found myself walking in a lot of circles. I keep ending up on La Rambla which is touristy all day and recommended for people-watching and whatnot, but everyone cautions you to completely avoid it at night due to pickpockets and their ilk. It was still packed with people so I never felt unsafe, but I was still wary and wanted to get out of there. Twice more I found myself on the same damn street. Ugh.

I walk by tons of foreigners - a variety of Americans, Germans, Scandinavians, and Australians that I could tell and the groups of men and a few women constantly handing out flyers for this or that. Are they thieves trying to distract me? I have no idea but keep walking past them fast nonetheless.

I wander through a few squares I finally recognize and wonder why I can't find this bar Ben's taken me to a couple of times. It's a cervesaria, more Brit than Spanish and even tho it's really close to the apartment, goddamn if I can find it myself. It's practically invisible. The main owner/bartender is straight from Liverpool, knows a lot about beer, barely has any teeth and what's there is questionable, but he's raunchy and hilarious. It's a cool place.

I finally get tired of wandering aimlessly and settle on a place called Art & Schilling. Good combination of dimly lit and bright enough to write. Not packed, but enough people to eavesdrop upon or observe. The waiter is cute, bartender is cuter - but more alternative. I order some food and a gin and tonic. The feel of the place is cool but not pretentious. The food arrives quickly - a boccadillo with veggies and goat cheese (they forgot the cheese), olives, and my drink comes in a tall narrow glass filled halfway with gin, no ice, and I'm given a small but entire bottle of tonic, and a lemon. Not really the same but whatever.

It's after midnight and the people-watching isn't boring. Families walk in, mixed groups of tourists, some couples and different pairs of male and female friends in to catch up over drinks. The bartender walks out from behind the bar and gives me the eye. Or maybe I'm just brazen enough to stare back because isn't Barcelona kind of like Vegas? I think so.

I have yet to have any sangria because it seems like a touristy option. As are the cocktail lists that abound. They all say things like 'Mojito, Sex on the Beach, Piña Colada, Margarita' and yet no one really knows how to make them. I never see a single bartender with a shaker once and yet the list options make me feel like I'm in Fort Lauderdale for spring break. The boccadillos are also popular. They're just basically french bread with a variety of meats and cheeses on them and that's really it. Good after drinking mostly. The chorizo and other types of pork are really fresh and so good.

You can always tell the tourists because Spanish men are much smaller framed. When the Aryan-looking stockier and/or taller types walk in, one thinks German or American because they just look healthier. The Spanish smoke and drink a cafe con leche for breakfast.. not much in the way of nutrition there.

The bartender goes back to work and with his bracelets and tattoo he reminds me of a dj I knew in college. A girl should always know to stay away from both by policy.. but this one seems interesting anyway and I think I might have to move to the bar so I have more to write about later. Ahem.

The girls next to me have left but there isn't enough room next to me to fit the larger groups of guys that keep walking in, clearly lost. I hope I don't look depressed or like an obvious American journaling her way through her trip trying to be the next Anaïs Nin or Virginia Woolf, but it is a bit antisocial. I actually am a bit frustrated that I don't think I'm pushing myself enough and also disappointed that I know myself well enough that I guessed this would happen.

The bartender flirts or he's just bored. I can't tell. He takes a smoke break and I do finally move to the bar to join him for a chat. He's French - of course. No one is actually from here. They're all from somewhere else and biding their time. His name is Lork and when he finishes his break, he puts something like an amaretto sour in front of me on the house. He says it's a slow night for them and he has no plans after work. Not sure if that's an invitation or not.


Tuesday Night, Sept. 29th:

Um.. yes, for those inquiring minds, it was an invitation. The bartender from last night said I should meet him when they closed, so I did. He took me to a fairly secretive, but well-known bar called The Pipa Club. He knew most of the staff, we got one drink and left soon after. The boy didn't waste much time. Tho we were close, he wasn't much different than the typical commitment-phobic male - they're all the same, regardless of what culture they're from. He was clear about his policy of not getting attached, we had fun, and I knew I wouldn't see him again.

Today I slept until 2pm. Clearly I was up later with the bartender than I thought. I wandered to Sukūr to see if Giannis wanted to hang out possibly and between shifts, he took a break with me. We walked through the more popular streets for shopping in the Barri Gòtic that I hadn't discovered yet and took me directly to the La Seu Catedral, which was stunning.

He explained the government buildings in Plaça Sant Jaume; Palau de la Generalitat and on the other side, City Hall, both flanked by a lot of policia.



I walk him back to work eventually and kiss him goodbye. I do my own window-shopping when I find my way back to the areas we just walked thru and covet the amazing clothing and boots you'd never find in the states, but I don't buy anything but one blouse for work because I'm not yet sure what I want to spend my money on.

My hip gets me to head back to the apartment for a little siesta and I've rested for about an hour or so when the buzzer rings. Apparently, people will ring any apartment, even if they're not there to see you, just to get access. It's not a big deal there so then you just wait to see if the person is there for you. And this was Ben's friend, Simon - another Australian. We make a lot of small talk, he's there to borrow Ben's guitar, and he's covered in paint. He's heading back to Australia in November where his wife is already so he's repainting their flat before they go. (The unemployment is so high in Spain, if you have your resident card, the government will pay for your trip to go back to where you came from. Nice.) He writes and produces music full time and we go on about that stuff so long that we decide to get some food together since we were going to do that separately anyway. He has to meet a musician friend of his nearby so he takes me to Bahlia, a bar where he knows the staff and the beer is free because he's dj'd there before. He forgets I need food and then that comes up again so tipsy at that point, he takes me to La Ria around the corner, which seems divey but comforting. I like it.

Simon is super funny, a really nice guy and we discuss jobs, the Barcelona culture and society and then his friend shows up, Daniel, who's French. As in not Spanish. Shocker. They leave for about 15 minutes to do whatever music stuff they need to do, Simon comes back to keep me company afterwards and our conversation starts where we left off. We keep the wine coming because it's cheap and snack on the food we ordered: a small plate stacked with cheese, bread rubbed with tomato, patatas bravas that's fantastic, some omelette thing that tastes fishy to me and I can't stomach it.. and my favorite, pimientos de padron. These are a full plate of tiny little green peppers that you think are hot, but aren't really. They're simply cooked in olive oil and sea salt til wilty and you eat them right off the stem. The surprise is that once in a while, you'll get one with a kick, but mostly, that's not the case. They're fucking awesome. I feel like we just ate like kings for almost nothing.

While Simon had been gone, I wrote. There's a big table of kids near us celebrating someone's birthday, two men at the bar who look like delapidated sea captains, and another who looks like an old Jim Morrison. The birthday party is full of attractive women and men - all smoking and filling the table up with lots of empty bottles. The women are so pretty and they don't even try. Most wear little to no make up at all and they're gorgeous.

After food and conversation for a while after Simon returns, we're off to another bar, LP, for cocktails - because clearly a beer and ample wine isn't mixing alcohol enough for me. On the way, tho it's really beyond the bar, Simon was kind enough to walk me to Giannis' flat, but he didn't answer his phone or the door so we can't include him. Unfaltered by this, Simon and I continue our bar crawl, have a poorly made amaretto sour made by the bartender at LP who clearly didn't want us to stay because they were closing and then we went back to the first place, Bahlia, where we closed the bar down, smoked a joint, had another beer or two and called it good. Simon was awfully gracious to let me stop by Giannis' flat one more time just in case, but no answer so I gave up. Didn't want to be a stalker tho Simon kept me laughing about it the whole time.

Wednesday Sept. 30th:

I went to bed alone and drunk, but earlier than usual. Still woke up hungover today, but managed to get to the Musea Nacional D'Art de Catalunya with Emma, who was nice enough to invite me along with her.

Notes from Barcelona: Chapter 2 - Finding My Way

Sunday, Sept. 27th:

First 48 hours here and it's fucking INSANE!

I'm out alone on a Sunday night because my hosts went to bed early due to work in the morning. Yawwwwn. Ben works at 9am and his girlfriend, Alex, works at 11am. Nice hours. I'm on my own only because I forced myself. There are tons of people out, including whole families with small children, so I couldn't exactly stay cooped up. It's terribly easy to get lost here so I've wandered around the block and felt nervous seeing the drug dealers at every corner. They're immigrants from Morocco and elsewhere I was told and they are endlessly aggressive trying to sell coke and hash to tourists or anyone else who bothers to look them in the eye and doesn't immediately ignore them and walk past. All I wanted was a glass of wine and to not feel so out of place.

I chose a pretty quiet bar compared to the raucous ones close to the apartment. Finding something divey and comfortable within which to write after midnight is difficult. I wandered through an open square still set up for live music for The Lady of Mercy festival - one of the biggest here and I arrived at the tail end of it. Plaça Reial is in the Barri Gòtic and a heavy tourist area. It was filled with people eating at the various places that surround three sides of the square and each had these assertive waiter/PR men outside holding out their menus. They're worse than the spritzer girl in a department store. It's a tourist-oriented city, much more than I ever thought, and the competition for your euro is fierce.

I've been talking to my bartender - a young Greek man who, when I asked how he was doing said, 'Awful,' so we got into a deep conversation of life and expenses and why we're both here. I have no idea, but I think this bar, Sukūr, is supposed to be Turkish or something to that effect. Looks like it's about 2am and the female manager is shutting the doors. She'd previously brought me a small plate of olives with my wine and they were really good tho the wine only so so, but a full glass, so down it went. I may be off to find late-night food elsewhere - my stomach isn't used to the late hours, but if I'm going to be up drinking, I have to eat something to absorb it all.

I didn't realize it's only 12:30am. They don't stay open as late as the other bars. My poor Greek boy informed me that tomorrow he's giving his notice and will get out of this job due to bad management. He doesn't care and thinks he'll find another job easily.

We talk about New York, where he says he's going eventually after his next year of marketing school here and has no idea how expensive it is to live there. We talk about Seattle and the rent I pay there. He asks if that's comparable to New York and I say, 'Uh.. no. Not even close.' I explain usually it's a lot more for a lot less. He asks about wages and I explain it's one state that allows restaurant owners to pay less than minimum wage for serving jobs due to tips. He's surprised. He had no idea.

He tells me his name but I have to ask a couple of times. He explains it's basically John in English. The manager brings me more olives after asking and answering for me if I need more. I ask if the man she's clearly familiar with by the way she's talking to him is her boyfriend. She says no, after a little laugh, and that it's her ex-boyfriend. Funny, they seem together and obviously he cares, but there's an interesting dynamic there.

Giannis offers to come out with me when he's off, which should be soon so I wait. He's a sweet guy, not unattractive, but not the typical for me. Not sure why he offered. He's not flirty, that's what I mean. But he tried to pour me another glass of wine after I paid for one.

He takes me to a bar called Polaroid. It's brightly colored and we walk thru a haze of cigarette smoke to get to a table. Random album covers are plastered on the walls. One strikes me as particularly odd: It's Bob Hope with a glass of milk called 'Siniesto total II (el regreso). It didn't matter what it meant. It was just weird. The back of the bar looks cool. The shelves I instantly recognize are in the shapes from Tetris. Giannis brings back a couple of beers for us, ordered us hot dogs of all things and we start talking.

Monday, Sept. 28th:

Wow, my Spanish is as bad as my handwriting. Completely sucks. Wandered to the place Ben took me to for food yesterday and managed to order tho only because the man attempted to speak English. I seriously couldn't survive here without knowing more. I'm kicking myself constantly for not learning Spanish when I had the chance. Why did I pick French?!

Man, the café con leche here is amazing. I have yet to master the three course lunch because I usually am only ready for breakfast by that time. Vacation has me up late til the wee hours and sleeping in lazily like there's nothing better to do.

I took the sweet Greek bartender home after we drank more than I thought I could. He reminded me I was here to have a good time.. and I did.. at least twice. Possibly seeing him again tonight, but going to enjoy the day.

The people-watching is great. More people than not have tattoos - lots of artwork. A lot of alternative youth, a lot of tourists. Not sure which one outnumbers the other.

Ben, my host, is down with a nasty cold. He tried to fight it this weekend, but he's definitely out hard today. The flat he rents is owned by another Australian and is huge. It can sleep 11 people if they needed. It was full with a married couple - she's Australian and he's Catalan, and her cousins. They've been in the city for 3 1/2 years and they know the owner of the flat. They're waiting for government paperwork to come thru so they can move back to Melbourne. Apparently Spain will pay for your way home if you're foreign.. or Australian. Can't remember which, but it sounds like they don't want you here regardless. The paperwork can take a long time as Emma told me, but it's free so they're waiting. Her cousins just left for Valencia today. Sweet boys - a little Aussie frat-like, but cool.

I wandered out to window shop and get some basics for the apartment and some orange juice for Ben. This area gets a lot of tourists. Some shop owners are familiar and nice, others are stand-offish and clearly resent you and the fact you don't communicate - not that they'd want to. I found a very popular shopping street, Carrer Ferran, that I hope to find again. Amazing clothes unlike I've ever seen. Spendy but so, so cool. The boots aren't bad either. Also not cheap.

The only problem with exploring all day is my body gives out earlier than I'd like. My hip aches a lot. The alleys are cobblestone and pavement. My new kicks I bought before I left are great - even without socks so no blisters (Yay!), but my hip - ugh - I want to rip my leg off and throw it in the fountain. But thinking of being out has me conflicted because I'm sleepy. Maybe I'll nap and then head out for some dinner and wine. Zzzzzz..

Notes from Barcelona: Chapter 1 - Getting There

These will be unedited if I can do that.. and if they're any good because if they're not, there will probably be editing.. and because my handwriting completely sucks, I wrote sometimes in shortened hand and also mixed my tenses. I mean, let's be honest, we all knew my grammar wasn't perfect anyway considering how much of it I make up. So.

Friday, Sept. 25th:

First leg of trip to Barcelona - no idea the time, but wonder why the flight is still going and we're not in D.C. yet. Have to pee and on inside by window seat. Note to self: good idea on short flights like two hours - not so good on anything longer, especially after a full can of ginger ale. PS: Side note to Green Eyes - thanks for the ginger candy. Had one and in five minutes had no nausea from take off. Awesome! PPS: Candy says it's recommended for all kinds of activity and gives pictures of the following: boating, riding in a car, and flying - so for things like motion sickness. Next picture is someone holding a mic and another is running. Um.. seriously? You need Dramamine-like meds to mc or take a jog?! So confused. If you get that nauseous doing those things, you might want to take up different hobbies. Just saying.

Summary: United flight - on time. Me - barely. Security - ? Hellishly slow and long. Made the flight, but no time for magazine or coffee buying. Sigh. Tv/movie entertainment - divided. At first, good. Headphones in the front flap already. Yay for free headphones! Played an episode of Parks and Recreation, which was random and funny. Then the movie, Easy Virtue, which I wanted to see anyway. Decently entertaining. Love Colin Firth tho he's a little under-used. And then they went to reality tv.. which, ok fine. Go for it.. but maybe like Survivor or Amazing Race or something.. but this was a new one and had to be the worst one ever: Groomer Has It?! Dog groomers being put to the test just like Project Runway or Top Model - but you know.. WITH LIVE DOGS as victims canvases. What. The. Fuck. And honey, puh-lease dial up the drama.. good God. They make every challenge this personal thing based on a father/mother/lover with cancer/AIDS/cares too much (not in that order - and making the last one up) who died or drank themselves to death - and truly I kept the headphones off til near the end and it was just as INSANE as I thought. I mean, they live in a residence labeled The Dog House for chrissakes and Jai from Queer Eye is the host. Sweet, sweet boy, but when he has to send the loser home, it's 'So and So, you've been clipped.' Really? They couldn't think of anything better? It's sooo trying too hard and from Queer Eye, this was a reasonable promotion?!

I got sleepy after the movie and actually got a few winks plus a crick (?) in my neck to go with it. Putting jacket against window for pillow = no help and can't get back to sleep.

Yay! Prepping to land! Finally! First stop: Restroom. Second stop: Deodorant. I think nervousness that I wouldn't make it this morning got the best of me. Might as well spare my next neighbors on the longer leg to Copenhagen. And then later, turbulence. Hi - that's scary. Had a few minutes I thought of all those I loved, gruesome scenarios and whatnot - then it subsided. Phew!

End note: Nearing airport. No sign of any political buildings. Damn. Was hoping to see the Pentagon. The woman next to me said we came into the wrong airport for that. Poop.

***********************

Second flight: Onwards to Copenhagen - LOOOOONG! I couldn't figure out why I wasn't tired when they turned out the lights in the cabin. Uh.. helllooo?! For me it was only 7:30pm. SAS isn't too big on the friendly either. They pretend well, but they're airline soldiers for sure. I thought the steward was going to swipe the blanket right off of me if I didn't put it away before we landed. He was really gruff about it. Seriously? What's a blanket going to harm if I keep it on my lap? I'm not going to steal the germ-infested thing. And then the stewardess uprighted the seat FOR me because it wasn't quite all the way up when I thought it was. She didn't say anything and just did it for me like I was 12 and mentally disabled. Um.. rude much?

The movies improved and so did the food. Watched Wolverine, Star Trek (already seen and still fantastic), The Soloist - good - and then the Plane Camera channel! Supercool when above the clouds!

Sat next to a really nice guy going to play professional basketball in Estonia. Didn't seem super tall, but cool guy nonetheless.

I've eaten my nails down to nothing - hangnails everywhere because I couldn't bring my file or nail clippers. I'm looking a paler version than when I started this morning and by my time now, we'll take off at 11:20pm. It's 8:20am here. I feel like I want coffee, but my body feels really conflicty about that. Also, buzz kill: just saw a man with a baby get on the flight. Ugh. Never a good sign when you're on the last leg. I did get the first stamp in the passport at the Copenhagen airport and I smiled and brightly said thank you and the Passport Stamp Man couldn't care less. Whatever. I was happy.

Also also? The Copenhagen airport is soooo nice! I've never seen an airport with rich, dark brown hardwood flooring everywhere. So modern looking. Everything is so posh and looks like I just walked into a more upscale IKEA.

Lame part: Had to go thru security again. Since going thru security prior to getting on the international flight, what illegal items could you have picked up between arriving in Copenhagen and that 10 hour flight?

Annoying part: The cafes will take your euros or American cash, however, if you pay in cash, they'll give you crowns back in change. Is Scandinavia not part of the European union? Or is the Copenhagen airport some sort of transcontinental Purgatory? I saved myself the problem and paid with my debit card.

Best part: Got the bulk amount of euros for Spain there, which was the best idea ever that I thought of myself (thank you). It saved me the concern of doing it at a questionable and sketchy ATM anywhere in Barcelona where I was warned of pickpockets and riffraff of that nature. Yay me!

Now - off to Spain! Also? Shorter flight than I thought. BONUS! Two hours and 25 minutes.

***********************

Two hours in: Sooooooooooooooo beyond tired. And I think the captain misspoke. I don't think we're landing in 25 minutes. Ugh. Checked time. Home is now at 1:26am. I've been up for 21 hours straight and smell like it. My contacts are threatening mutiny.

Homecoming

800 pictures later, I'm back from Barcelona, overwhelmed with work and hellloooo.. new fall tv! How am I supposed to catch you all up when my dvr was chock full of goodness? I ask you. I mean, have you seen FlashForward?! Sooo good. And also? One of my college theater alums landed himself a great sitcom, Modern Family. He plays the father of the teenage daughter in that show. High-larious!

Seriously tho, it's been uber busy since I've been back and a little emotional because I think I thought something would change when I returned. I wonder if I was really running away from the last six months and expected something to change once I walked in my front door again, but what? Was I supposed to magically be healed and forget my broken heart? Kinda, I think. I guess I expected to finally let it all go and of course thoughts of my ex sometimes clouded my thoughts in Spain and came rushing back once I was home. It didn't ruin my trip, didn't keep me from moving forward, but it's still there. A little frustrating.

Overall, the trip was fantastic, adventures were had, people were met, hilarity ensued - including a large bump on my head, which is still healing (good story, that.). It was really good for me to take the trip on my own and rely solely on myself to get thru day to day. I'm proud of myself even if I knew that sometimes I didn't always push myself and I had at least one pretty bad breakdown at the airport on the way home. When you miss check in for three flights by only five minutes because the taxi driver dropped you off at the wrong terminal and the right one is five miles away and there's a pretty extreme language barrier communicating with all the necessary people and all you can say in your head is FUCK over and over.. yeah.. YOU try not losing it and crying all over people when you think the best idea is to shell out a grand for another entirely different ticket home. That was the lamest part, but I learned a very valuable lesson and will never do that again for sure. So, take it from me: ALWAYS check in the night before.

I have tons of pictures to upload and I'm finally done editing them.. so you'll see my journal entries soon, after I catch up on the necessary sleep and vegging from the stress at work via tv numbness and more importantly, catch up with friends in person. I so missed my peeps. It's great to travel the world (ok, one country.. whatever) and be excited about meeting new people and making new friends, but nothing comes close to seeing familiar faces who mean the world to you. Nothing.

Patience kittens.. back soon! Mwah!

Breathing In & Counting Down

I think I had my first breakthrough last Friday. I woke up and realized a week from that morning I'd be in the airport waiting for my plane to carry me away to the Spanish coast.. and I got nervous. In a good way. The last time I felt anything other than something anxious and sad was almost half a year ago now.. or ok, more actually. It was good to be excited about something I'm doing just for me and it feels like even tho I can't guarantee my heart will be healed the moment I land or even after I come home, it's finally on the right track.

I ran into some of the people from the theatre tonight unexpectedly and whatever I felt last week kind of went away in oh.. an instant. I stayed for 45 minutes because I went out for a friend's birthday, but the whole time I was trying to figure out how to make time go faster so I could get my ass out of there. It's still too soon. It's still fresh. How crazy is that? A friend and I went to a concert yesterday and he drove right by the theatre, something I always avoid because Boy is often standing outside with his other people. So of course, we drove by and I had to look. I've done this often and he's never been there, which I was hoping.. but not this time. There he was, not aware of me of course, looking scruffy and not in any way amazing.. but it was still him and I wished for that second, in that moment I knew I hadn't seen him for three months, that I could've waved and he could've been happy to see me. But he wouldn't have because we aren't those people right now. And for the next five minutes, I had to breathe thru my anxiety and ache of missing him.

Not tonight. I just got in the car and let it out as it happened, talked to a friend.. tried to talk myself thru it, turned on the Daily Show.. but fuck.. it still hurts. I still miss him. I still have moments I completely lose it - not often anymore, but running into his friends.. wow.. it's close enough. They'll say something to him and I wonder how he'll feel. He has a new girlfriend he's in love with, however temporary.. and I have.. well, I have Spain.

Yes! Ok! I know, I know.. don't cry for me, Argentina, right? I know it's going to be amazing. It won't keep me warm at night, not on a regular basis anyway, but yeah, it's not going to suck. I have so much left to do, so much work to hand off at the office, laundry, last minute errands, uh.. PACKING.. and here I am blogging instead because I feel I have to have a 60 minute pity party for myself over someone I haven't let go of who said he didn't want to date someone he worked with at the theatre and later, couldn't choose love because he had so many other things pulling his focus he needed to concentrate on and then started dating someone he worked with and said he was probably in love with her.

Yeah.. Spain is sounding really good right now. Think I'll head there.. maybe in two days even. Fuck crying. I'm going here:

The Days Go By

As much as I want to write, sometimes I find it hard to put into words what I'm doing and thinking because it doesn't feel that eventful.. that recovered. It changes a lot. I'll have a very good week filled with new friends and social activities that keep me out til the wee hours for days at a time. I'll see my counselor and feel like things are really improving. Then I wake up on a Saturday, email a friend who's contacted me after years of falling by the wayside and in catching up with that person, I feel the emotions again rise to the surface and I wonder what happened to that self-assured girl I was yesterday because after talking about it, it seems hard to shake and face forward.

The sun is shining brightly today. It's probably one of the last gorgeous days of a straggling summer and I have errands to run, shopping for Barcelona to do, and a birthday party to attend. I even have a sweet man to meet after that who's unexpectedly become a contender for my affections and he's older than me! Improvement right there!

The apartment painting has taken a back seat to getting out of the house be it for a walk in my neighborhood while the weather is still favorable or making time with friends before I leave for my trip. There's certainly been a lot of drinking, but combined with getting back to regular workouts at the gym - not on the same day usually - I fall asleep a lot faster and deeper and my dreams don't fill themselves with the past. And honestly, meeting friends or attractive men at a bar brings a lot more smiles to my face than I've had in a long time so whatever gets me through I think.. I also get to know a lot of bartenders. Not a bad thing at all. I just have to keep in mind the gay ones are best because dating a bartender is never a good idea. Flirting is completely ok tho.

I feel myself moving in different circles of people. Everyone shifts here and there and my friends in the usual group seem to have lots going on. Most of them just returned from Burning Man which I skipped this year in lieu of Europe and man, do I ever regret that. Not the Europe part but not planning for the possibility of doing both. I logged onto the live feed in the middle of the last week and could see the entire playa, center camp, some art installations and I ached to be back there with all of them. It felt so familiar, so homey. It's why when you drive up to the winding line of RVs waiting to get in you see signs saying 'Welcome home!' and you breathe a breath of 'fresh' playa chalky air because you are home. I'm hoping next year there'll be trip to Italy in the spring with one of my girlfriends and then Burning Man at the end of August. I don't know if I can miss it again. Maybe I am a burner after all, just a little more on the inside than most.

And in the same shifts as I mentioned, a couple of old friends from BC have found me online and we've started to catch up. Vancouver used to be our getaway, our party place in my 20's. I fell in love there, I've partied for days at a time, and had a core group I used to hang out with that mostly constituted of these amazing men who'd known each other for a long time and were actually so affectionate with each other like I've never seen straight men be before. They just loved each other, looked out for one another like brothers and tho they were still figuring out themselves and their directions, they never lost sight of that. I don't know many men here like that at all and I've so missed those connections. It seems a lot of them have children now and it's changed their world. It's interesting to see as most of them don't have the traditional relationships that children and family would come with, but then again, they never did travel the standard routes like everyone else. I rather admire that about them and I see a trip up that way after Barcelona. Pictures will follow I'm sure.

Ok, the day is already half over and I need to get out of the house in this gorgeous weather. But as someone requested, I do want to write more and I'll certainly try. It doesn't do me well to remain introspective and introverted all the time. It's not me at all so thanks for reminding me. I need that these days. Hope you all are finding your happy in today..

My List Of Distractions

Thought it was time for a list tonight..

* First, I spent the weekend being apart of the Michael Jackson flash mob in Seattle. You might recognize me.. looking like THE hugest dork in the fucking world.. figuratively AND literally.. like hi - did I put on 15 pounds?! Gah. But that's ok cuz I'm on youtube looking like that huge dork and that's completely acceptable apparently. Then I searched youtube and watched every possible flash mob there was I think. And there are A LOT! Check out the Michael Jackson tribute in Hollywood.

* I actually met a bunch of awesome people from the above point who will probably become really good new friends. That never sucks.

* On the same note of sponataneous fun, you have to appreciate what this guy is doing. Improv Everywhere has done the flash mobs and pranks and even just a high five everyone you pass by. Like, what kind of awesomeness is that?! The blue links on the right side of his site are his past pranks. Check out the Ben Folds Fake, the Synchronized Swimming, the Human Mirror and tho you've probably seen it, the Frozen Grand Central. I also like the Mp3 Experiment Still amazing.

* I had two different dreams last night that involved people who are no longer in my life. One was the ex - nothing romantic or sad about it, we were just running away from bad people together.. in a building that was really complicated to get out of.. Wtf does that mean? And the other involved a former female friend who, out of no where, just kind of disappeared after telling me we'd arrived at the end of our rope.. or some other analogy like that I didn't quite understand after what I thought was a good four or five year friendship. And just like that, she was gone. But in my dream, she called me up out of the blue and the space she'd taken was still there, but we just went on from that like nothing had happened. She called to tell me about some cute store with a lingerie sale and we should go. I could hear her lovely voice all chipper on the other end, I could see her face. When she was happy and called me to include me in her day, I always felt a little extra special. Not many other women have had that effect on me. I loved everything about her. I miss her.

* An acquaintance told me today my eyes were two of the most beautiful she'd ever seen.

* And no. We did not make out after that. Thank you very much.

* After like 12 years of knowing each other, one of my first boyfriends in Seattle and I still have chemistry. It's interesting it's still there - especially since he's so over the line of metro dressing it's not even funny. Today I swear he looked like something out of a Backstreet Boys video, but we still love each other and he's awfully sweet and endearing sometimes. It's nice to feel special to someone after that long.

* I finally found the right color for my kitchen. Realizing the greens I'd picked out weren't going to work, I had to change my palette design completely. Red on the cupboards added a large touch of crazy I couldn't live with so those will now just be a clean white and the walls a bright and light sunny yellow. Warm and inviting even for its small size. Now, I just have to get going on that, then the bathroom and then the bedroom. The goal of getting it all done by the time I leave for Barcelona on the 25th seems a bit daunting and impossible, but we'll see. Thanks to Cupcake, Eight's fiancée for spending time with me last week and helping me pick out just the right colors.

* A lot of my close friends have left for Burning Man for the week. It's really kind of sad to miss it this year. It would've been my third in a row and with as much money as we spent last year doing it up right and comfortably, it was certainly worth it, but my ticket to Spain round trip was cheaper. I couldn't justify doing both nor did I have the time off. But I know they'll have a fantastic time and maybe I'll join them next year or another camp. I know we all have to experience our own adventures and Spain is looking like my transitional point of the year.

* Netflix. I love watching every movie I'd be embarrassed to pay $10 for or watching a whole HBO/Showtime series (sooo can't wait til the next season of The Tudors.. helllooo!) or the ones Boy couldn't manage to see with me because there was suddenly no room for date nights because theater took up our lives, his life.. and I was left alone. So you know what? Fuck theater these days. I have movies. Next up is Frost/Nixon and I'm practically salivating waiting for it to arrive on Wednesday.

* I love writing to this girl. She's smart and pretty and funny and she's been super helpful and inspiring to me. She also talks with a very lovely accent I'm sure even tho I've never heard it in person and that makes her even awesomer. She has a very strong shoulder I've been leaning on quite often and she never complains or makes me feel even the slightest bit silly even tho she's a kajillion miles away and really can't do anything for me except say very nice things, which she does all the time. I hope one day we can meet for real and have many drinks and eat chocolate together. I think our cats would make the best of friends and her mom would make me pies and I would be 400 pounds. I mean.. whatever. It'd be great.

* I'm learning Spanish little by little. Boris convinced me to forego the expensive Rosetta Stone purchase for the online download of Coffee Break Spanish. And let me tell you - it's fucking genius. And free! I love free, don't you? So the best things: first, it's in 15 minute increments so you don't get bored and you can do it in the morning while you're getting ready for work like I have been and puttering around making coffee and feeding Ms. Kitty, etc. Second, the host is Scottish. It doesn't seem to affect his Spanish accent at all and I actually love listening to him go back and forth in both languages so I'm really developing my Scottish accent for any random acting I may want to do in the future (as if!) and learning the Spanish basics as well. Plus, and this is the best part, the intro song is sung by Ricki Martin! Ok, ok it's probably not.. but it definitely channels La Vida Loca in all it's rhythmic dancing glory. Seriously, if you don't want to go to Spain after the first five lessons, you haven't been listening. I'm up to lesson 11 and I'm not amazing or anything, but I'm better than I was!

* When a 22-year-old former Mormon thinks you're hot.. there's nothing better. I mean, seriously..

That's all I got for now.

F*cking Delicious

Ok seriously, pms is wreaking havoc on my sense of self so you know what? I found a site that literally kicks my ass into hilarity - and I don't care if that doesn't make sense. When you mix CuteOverload with how fucking awesome everything is? Holy mother of all that is right in the world: You get a masterpiece. Seriously, this site rocks.

You may laugh your ass off. You've been warned.

A Kick In The Teeth And She Still Manages To Smile

Recently, while out with a male friend, a man in a threesome of strangers began chatting us up. All of them were very friendly and after the one man introduced us to his girlfriend, he asked if we were on a date. My friend and I answered at the same time. As clueless as usual, I innocently said, "No," while my companion replied a bit more slyly, "Well, I'm working on it." I shot him a surprised look. This is the same friend who asked me out a while ago and I'd told him I needed to think about it because I probably wasn't ready. He said that was cool and then laid an intentionally slow and drawn out kiss on me anyway. My knees might've gone a little weak, but after a few days of sitting with that idea, I still didn't go out with him. The backwardsness of it all - as well as his persistance - was sweet and random.. and flattering.

So our new friend, after I explained my situation and why we weren't dating, took in the facts of my break up and needed recovery time of my broken heart only for a split second before he leaned in close to my ear and said very matter-of-factly, "Get over it." The girlfriend and I shared a shocked look for a moment - also, we shared a birthday we'd discovered earlier so we understood the big-hearted nature of Scorpios and how we don't get over things (or people) quickly or easily. We just don't work that way. But I will say.. yeah, I maybe needed to hear someone say it. Outloud.

I was ok for a couple of days, but before that, had maybe had a weak moment combined with about an hour of time to kill and the sads kicked in out of no where and I was writing to Boy. I really sent it. I really told him a bunch of things. I missed him, this was hard, wasn't asking for him to come back, but I can't believe I'm going to Spain without him, painting my apartment like we talked about all by myself.. silly stuff. I missed talking to him. Having him in my life. And yeah, it feels like that's how it's always going to be. We just aren't going to be friends at any point - even tho I know I'm not ready yet. And I was ok with what I said. And he didn't write back. Well, til four days later. Why, you ask? Funny story actually. He was out of town on his yearly family vacation to Winthrop. If you were around last year at this time, this is where he took me last year and it was such a big deal for us that I meet his parents and just the whole idea of a trip together after we'd been together a couple of months and were so madly in love already.

And this year he took the new girl he's been dating for almost a month.

Um. Yeah. He's dating. Uh.. hm. *Insert heart-crushing noise here.* Ok. When he told me, he downplayed it. Said it wasn't a big deal. She's leaving for England to live in about two months. It didn't lessen what we had - blah blah blah. Yeah, I was in shock. I mean, for someone who told me maybe two months ago he was still in love but he couldn't focus on that because there were too many things demanding his attention. Right. He was busy.. so some of that's true.. and you and I (and he did too) know the rest is crap.

I pressed for more over IM and the shortest version of that is that he'd been with her for about three weeks. Knowing he'd been out of town on this trip, I asked if he took her, he said yes. And that had to sit for a minute because then came the obvious question - well, obvious to me because this is how things went with us - and I asked if he was in love with her. After some waffling and saying this wasn't good for me to hear and what was this going to help me with.. he said he thought he might be. In love. After three weeks. With someone who's leaving.

Awesome. Totally makes sense now. Now I can totally just let it go. Well, that's actually kind of true, but not til I CRIED MY FUCKING HEART OUT FOR TWO DAYS.

Well, it was better than a week I suppose.

Seriously, I'm probably a bit of a masochist, but the method to my madness is that I know myself pretty well and I know I was still really sad and not so very deep down, I was still hoping. I also know he hasn't come back and I maybe still hadn't faced it. I was still hiding away at times, feeling claustrophobic on dates or in groups, having moments of 'what if' thinking that wasn't helping me heal. So yes, it's surprising I'd asked him to tell me when this might happen and more surprising he really did (not to mention I also had to hear it from my stylist we sort of share because he found her at her new job and introduced the new girl to him in between making out with her and holding hands.. oh yeah. I heard all of it.), but after the emotions calmed and all the irrational questions and wondering.. I faced it. I faced the overness of it. For real.

So you know what I did? I took a long drive down to the Oregon coast and went to my 20 year high school reunion. TWENTY YEARS PEOPLE! I wore a fabulous dress and fantastic shoes, the grey in my 37-year-old hair had been colored and coifed.. and I was actually nervous! But you know what? The drive was good. I stopped to see my aunt and uncle in Portland overnight and had a good heart to heart with my aunt. Then went on down to Lincoln City where the weather couldn't have been more beautiful - the beach was clean, the air was fresh. It was gorgeous. And then I met up with my friends and had a really amazing night. It's so strange how you can be friends now with people you didn't gravitate to then or who didn't gravitate to you. Maybe it was the braces or the Gloria Estefan hair I had.. Oh yeah, believe it. But whatever it was, it was a good time and I thought.. you know.. life keeps going.

Photobomb

Because I've had the band-aid ripped off and spent the last day crying and don't really want to talk about it yet.. I figured I'd post something uber quick-like. This site made me laugh my head off.. well, practically. After you see this, you have to go to the home page and check out all their others.. but look closely at the red circles. High-larious. I tell you. The world is a crack up man.

Still Bruised, But Bandaged..

I let go. I said goodbye. The show closed at the end of June and I tried not to think of us not being together and not celebrating what would've been our one year anniversary. I gave Boy the keys to the theatre I'd had for the last year and he took them without flinching or acknowledging the weight they may have carried for me.. but it was settled. I left at the end of the night and didn't look back.. But there he was three days later, unexpectedly. He walked in during the few hours we were there for strike the following Tuesday tho he didn't bother to tell me he'd be there and I'd mistakenly assumed he wouldn't be. I just thought.. why? Why did he have to be there for the two very small hours I was? And why did it sting more than being around him every night for the last three performances of the show? Because I thought that was the last time I'd see or talk to him til.. well, til whenever he gets 'perspective'.. and I stop thinking about when that will be. And for some reason, I think that will be a long time. Sigh..

Right after that, I was fine. The sun shone so bright and hot I actually made it down to Madison Beach with a friendly male companion, caught some rays, splashed around in the water, and didn't realize til it was over that we were sort of on a date. I'm really blind sometimes. I didn't figure it out til he kissed me at the end - after he officially asked me out on a first date. A little backwards if you ask me, not that he did - but I let him have his kiss. And I thought about going out with him - even went so far as to get it scheduled - then backed out earlier this week. I was grateful for his understanding.

I tried it. I can't do it, the dating thing, right now. Most people would say it's a bad idea anyway, but some friends, tho they don't think I should jump into anything, also support me getting 'back out there'. I had this panicky feeling of being alone somewhere into a couple of months of the break up. I went out on a limb and reactivated my online profile, but tho they're all lovely people, it seems unreasonable to ask for their patience. They need you to be in a place you can date. Sounds fair enough since that's what you're on the site for.. but I was just testing waters, dipping in toes.. I dunno - some days it was ok. It was rejuvenating to feel validated, flirted with, attractive and inspired by possible beginnings. And some days, I felt smothered, claustrophobic, like it was a waste of their time and mine, and worse, I felt deceitful making small talk while knowing someone else still has my heart.

I've done what I can to continue and take care of myself and what's helped is we're being pushed so hard at work someone thought they maybe should give us a little something to keep us around so they spoiled us with a health and wellness program. Doesn't sound all that great til you walk into THE MOST AMAZING GYM EVER. The very same fancy gym owned by Microsoft and HOLY COW it's SUPERNICE! Can you say AMENITIES?! I bet you can! My favorite? The jacuzzi in the locker room. Along with a sauna AND a steam room. LOVE. IT. The second floor of said supernice gym? Made without flourescent lighting INTENTIONALLY! For the sole purpose of MY relaxation! It's the second best place I'd like to live.. next to Whole Foods of course. Ok, not live live there.. but it could be my rec room definitely.. I sometimes go during my lunch since it's uber close to our office and sit in the hot tup for like 30 min. HI. HOT TUB. AT LUNCH. Could it BE any more AWESOME?! No. No it could not. Unless of course there was a pool boy. And umbrella drinks. But I digress. It's great. It's stellar. Like, the water fountains? They have this handy dandy little wand on them that spouts FILTERED WATER. Filtered THREE times. IT'S JUST A WATER FOUNTAIN PEOPLE. AND because our office is subsidizing all but $15 whole dollars that I pay from my paycheck, I can afford said fancy club because let me tell you - you DO NOT want to know how RIDICULOUS the cost is a month.. The joining fee alone is $400! As in.. GASP - WTF?! WHO is lucky? That's right.. for once, you bet your stair-climbing, eliptical-moving, hot-tubbing ass.. it's ME.

And let me say, I need that hot tub these days because I am a badass apartment painter. I am indeed! The living room is no longer this nasty, disgusting smoker's-tartar yellow. It's a gorgeous light aqua, almost minty without being too green or too blue and it goes perfectly with everything in it. I primed the bookcase, I taped all up in the living room's business, I painted trim up and down and sideways and other than the red on the door that I messed up by pulling the tape off a bit too early on one spot, I'm just about done.

Hi. Can you say trashed? Sweet Jesus.. help me one day get back to some semblance of a room where people live again..

With the living room, that is. The rest of my place? Yeah, still a dingy yellow beige. As in insert gag sound here. Don't fret tho, I have all my other colors here ready and waiting. There'll be two (count 'em TWO) shades of sage greens in the kitchen with red cupboard doors when I'm through, a lovely beachy-feeling light periwinkle in the bathroom, and a deeper periwinkle (I do love me that purpley-blue color - puts me right at ease instantly) for my bedroom. And people, it took two whole weekends just to finish the living room. I'm going to be at this for a while. The goal is to get it done before I leave for Barcelona at the end of September.

Oh yeah. Hey.. I'm taking a trip. Yeah, it's a little place called FUCKING SPAIN! Maybe you've heard of it?! I'M GOING TO SPAIN! WHOO HOO! Ok ok.. I could've left out the profanity.. but WHY?! IT'S SPAIN! More precisely, I'M GOING TO BARCELONA! FOR LIKE ELEVEN WHOLE DAYS! Yes I am!

Hi.. I don't travel much. Clearly. Also? I'm a dork.

Anyway, so many of my friends have been there and haven't stopped talking about its beauty or just the amazing feeling being there and it's stuck in my head as somewhere I've wanted to visit for a long time. The other places I have on my list were discussed as dream trips with the ex and it just didn't seem right to go while my heart's still grieving. It would just be too lonely and sad and I don't want to be sad anymore. I want some new energy and life inspired by sun and siestas and sangria.. and whatever the hell else I'll find there on my own. I've never adventured on a big trip alone, let alone going solo in Europe. I'm sassy as all get out, but worldly I am not. I just pretend.. and I'm not so good at that. This is beyond past due what I should've done for myself a long time ago. It's a requirement.. and once I get my visa renewed, I doubt there will be much stopping me. Well, besides the allotted vacation time of course.. but it's about damn time I saw the rest of the globe and broadened my perspective instead of keeping it cooped up safely in the confines of this little city and the people within it I insist on making my whole world. There's more out there.. and I just want to experience it, grow a little, heal a lot.. and find some peace.

Goals. It's about time I had some I think..

Please Stand By..

Hey y'all.. I'm working on something.. something that will be many more words than this.. but I'm busy, I'm still dealing with some stuff, I'm painting my apartment, and I hope to slow down a little more this week to get out what I need to, but you know sometimes when summer hits, the words happen less and the doing happens more. I guess that's how it's supposed to be tho, right? This is how one tries to move on..

In the meantime, you should peruse the sidebar for other fancy sites to read.. Friends with many more fancier writing skills than me - also, there are some funny ones under 'Got Time To Kill' because damn.. the people on Texts From Last Night seriously kill me. Also, My Milk Toof is frickin adorable. I can't even stand it, it's so cute. I also have to control my laughter for the things they post on FailBlog. Sometimes I wonder if I should be looking at it during work. I could seriously snort things out my nose without thinking, it makes me laugh so much.

Til later this week - you all best be hoping for sunshine here because it's just a little too grey and too damn chilly for July. There is just something wrong with that..

Ciao ciao!

No Day But Today..

Anyone who knows me knows I sing. Pretty much all the time. When I'm in a normal and happy place (which y'all know I haven't been for a while, but one day I'll be back there), I hum at work, I sing in the car.. music is in my head all the damn time. I would die without it.

I've had a dream to be on Broadway for a long time.. probably since I decided to be an actor during high school when I was cast in my very first musical, You're A Good Man Charlie Brown.. I was Snoopy. When the lights went down, I felt it. I could be me.. but also a thousand other characters. I dreamed of dancing and singing my way thru life, struggling like the story goes for every actor to some degree.. but living my life as an artist. It was kind of magical.

Then I moved to Seattle to pursue real theater after college and suddenly bills and life and all the usual things got in the way. It was easy to forget what I'd come up here to pursue because I was just trying to survive.

Tho I've been involved with local theater steadily for the last couple of years now and have realized more of that original goal, every time I see a musical in the bigger theater houses in the city, my heart beats faster, my eyes get wider and that feeling that made me run away to theater school comes back. I'm using my degree but not in acting - and none of the theater I do involves singing. I know to a lot of people musicals are all cheese and I'll give them that.. but there's something exciting about using your voice for that art and creating synergy with well-written music.

RENT is one of those musicals that's big for me. When I first heard about it, it was different and young, very New York and brassy - and I met one of my first boyfriends here while we waited in the cattle call line to audition for the touring production so many years ago now. I had an awful cold and no voice at all, but wasn't about to miss the audition. It was my first experience of more waiting than auditioning, but I did it anyway. There were 600 of us. Only one girl was cast from the call.

I saw that touring production when it came back thru and was blown away by how much more fulfilling the show was live than just on the recording. Of course, none of the cast was from the original Broadway show, but they were incredible nonetheless. And tho, still kind of cheesy in moments, it pulled you in despite that and I left not only feeling moved, but admiring the cast who worked to get where they were.

Tonight I saw it for the second time and felt the exact same way. The two original Broadway leads who played Mark and Roger, Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp, were included in the cast this time. It was the closing show for the week's run here and we'd been given special 'house seats' by a friend who had connections to the tour - so we had third row balcony, pretty close to center, and Paramount Club access where there were complimentary appetizers and a private bar. The seats were fantastic and the extras added a little kick to our night.

When the show started, the leads brought my own personal soundtrack to life with their familiar voices I'd heard a kajillion times. It was pretty amazing to see them live and on stage in the flesh. The entire cast was great - especially my namesake, Angel, who always manages to steal the show for the most part. We laughed and cried.. MJ more than me this time.. and the entire audience immediately erupted into a standing ovation of cheers the moment it was over.

It reminded me why I wanted to get into theater. It made me want to pick up roots and run away to New York where musical theater lives, breathes and pays rent.. no pun intended. Seattle is more straight theater and I'm not sure it pushes me enough. It's a solid little area for sure, but maybe I'm feeling too comfortable. I don't know.. is it me that's too complacent or my environment? Maybe a combination of both. Or maybe I'm laying blame on the outside forces when I haven't done the work.. I haven't put in time to find voice lessons, work on audition pieces and find the auditions. I got so caught up in being behind the scenes because I was intimidated. I wasn't sure where I was supposed to be so I wanted to back up and watch others do it for a while, take in those experiences and learn. Maybe I have tho.. maybe after my break from the world of drama that I've had on and off stage, I'll come back with some renewed energy, a healed heart would be nice too.. and a new focus within the passion that started me in this direction in the first place.

The show has a few themes but the overwhelming one is that of love.. and to live in the moment. Live like it's your last. Sounds like an Oprah affirmation for sure.. but honestly, who cares? If you allow it in, it's inspiring.. and I haven't felt inspired for a while. I'm just getting by because things have been so painful.. and the daily hurt is still there, to a lesser degree certainly, but it's there. I'm learning to move past it - most days are ok and some days still kind of overwhelmingly suck and I feel claustrophobic and inconsolable. I'm still in love with him for now. I will probably always love him. But I chose him for almost a year and gave that relationship everything I had. It hasn't been terribly long, but it's still time I chose myself, put my energy back into my own life and stopped looking back to see if he's noticed.. because, let's be honest.. he hasn't. And I'm not doing it for him or his reaction anyway.. I'm doing it for myself. Seasons of love indeed..

The heart may freeze or it can burn
The pain will ease if I can learn

There is no future
There is no past
Thank God this moment's not the last

There's only us
There's only this
Forget regret-- or life is yours to miss.
No other road
No other way
No day but today

There's only yes
Only tonight
We must let go
To know what is alright
No other course
No other way
No day but today

I can't control
My destiny
I trust my soul
My only hope
is just to be

There's only now
There's only here
Give in to love
Or live in fear
No other path
No other way
No day but today

Observations

Music can not be loud enough for me lately. My friend, Jude, is kind enough to send me new tunes at the drop of a hat - and just about anything I could ask for. Such a gift.. The new Green Day is my favorite right now. I know people say a lot of shit about them.. Don't care. It's simply Dirty-Eye-Liner-Wearing-Punkish-Boy Rock.. and it's getting me thru. I put it on and instantly think, oh I'm not in the mood for this, but then another second later, I'm feeling lighter and rocking out in the car. It's frickin awesome.

Have you ever noticed - because it's painfully obvious - how Prius drivers are THE slowest drivers on the PLANET?! I'm just saying.

I eat a container of Trader Joe's hummus a week. That's 16 ounces.. a WHOLE POUND.. of HUMMUS! A WEEK!

Who is NOT excited for So You Think You Can Dance? Right.. don't answer that because EVERYONE should be! Hellooo! All the gay boys and I can't get enough.. AND they're doing a SECOND SHOW in the fall.. as in YAY! Tho I completely skipped watching the auditions from Seattle cuz I heard that was the worst city. Ouch. But Mary - we're sorry.. we're a town of actors and artists, not dancers. Not, shockingly, like Denver (tho - weird.. Denver? Who knew?!). Forgive? We forgive your annoying shouting so.. call it square? Good.

Haagen Daaz has a new flavor called Vanilla Honey Bee -- don't walk, RUN to get some because, hi, YUM! AAAAND they're doing it for a purpose! Did you know the honeybees are dying? DYING! Sad.. and really weird - they have a virus! And they produce flowers and berries and because of them things grow! They're kind of amazing tho yes, people are scared of bees, but honeybees are sweet! They're like the koala bears of the bear world.. but you know.. the bee one instead. So buy some first - and then put it over brownies because seriously.. sooo good!

Traveling alone has never appealed to me.. til now. I'm still pretty nervous about it.. but I think, come late August or early September, I might be taking a trip overseas. The destination is still unknown.. but the idea gets more and more exciting every time I think about it.

And according to a handful of people so far.. in order to get over someone, you need to go out with someone else. So, um.. after a successful event, which was completely marred for me because The Ex treated me like shit and I was so surprised by it that I let him, I cried all the next day, sent some emails that didn't make a damn bit of difference other than receiving his apology, which I wouldn't have been given had I not told him how hurtful he was the night before.. AND I moved onto the angry stage real fast. Yeah, I cried for a full day.. but not all week. That right there is improvement. Finding strength to keep going, to stop contacting him, to realize tho I knew it wasn't the end of the world, to really believe it, and to be happy despite being disappointed that he can love me all he wants, but he still made the choice to walk away.

So! My point was? It's still very small and I may clearly not be ready, but I reactivated my silly online dating profile. Yup! And you know what? Tho they aren't all men I'd be into, they kind of came out of the woodwork.. well, maybe because the paper sort of featured me - like on the login page of the personals. Like the next day after it was set up. Uh.. ok. Wow. A little embarrassing.. Just felt odd because it's so out there that The Ex is bound to be told someone's seen me.. tho I hope not because that wasn't my intention, but I did get a kick in the ass from Fatima for even caring because I don't owe him anything. I know he wants me to be happy, but I feel a little hypocritical after telling him how I didn't see myself moving on anytime soon. But I kind of said fuck it - he knows I love him - and he should know how much, he knows I'm proud of him and what we had.. but he let me go. By choice. And if the timing isn't right, then I should feel good enough to explore other relationships, meet new people and feel inspired by those who know who they are and what they want. The Ex isn't there yet.. and he knew I wasn't going to wait. I had to be reminded that life is too short and I give too much.. and no, I won't wait for 'the future to bring what it brings'.. because yawn. So. Over. It. I want to participate in my future a little sooner than what waiting for it will bring me. Screw waiting.

I can explain further another time.. but at least for this moment.. at like almost 1am when I have the most brilliant realizations, I mean.. don't you? I feel like the weight's lifting. Just in time for summer I'd say.

Memorial Weekend Indeed

I've been trying to find enlightenment and inspiration pretty much everywhere I can these days. I've been feeling sponge-like, flexible.. open to suggestion and anything else that crosses my path or walks thru my environment. I'm trying to reflect and process and just be. I'm trying to find joy and negate the weight in the pit of my stomach and the ache in my chest. It's easy to feel sorry for myself and so much more work to be positive, but as I come into my groove, it gets easier. The sun was out, I ended the weekend in another country - the closest I could get to being 'away' - and people-watched after a day of lazy dining and retail therapy with old friends.

I started the weekend doing errands at home. Then I went wandering to find some sweet gifts for MJ since I was heading out to her birthday party that night. While looking around for special things for her, I bought fancy treats for a special English girl going thru a situation similar to mine and having a rough time of it. It's so much nicer to try to make someone else feel better than wallowing in my own achey breaky heart madness. It makes me feel like I have a better purpose than thinking of myself.

On my way home, I stopped by Greenlake to get in a little exercise and fresh air. I do love taking in the scenery and Seattle was out en masse having the same thoughts that I had.

The first person I saw walk by me had on a t-shirt that said 'Be Brave' and being in the absorbant place I was, I took that as a direct message to myself. I thought 'Yes! I will be! I am!' It was a very gung-ho way to start my walk I thought because y'all know me.. I'm very gung-ho.Then there was this lovely woman, Middle-Eastern I believe, wearing her traditional clothing. She had a comforting face and tho I was wearing sunglasses, she connected with me, gave me a very genuine smile like she knew me, like we shared a secret, just between the two of us. I smiled back and said hello and she just nodded. I really don't know what it was about, but it gave me a very chicken-soup-for-the-soul moment that I carried with me for the rest of my walk.

On one side of the lake they were having an outrigger canoe competition! Très exciting! Then I walked by a portion of the lake well-known for where these darling little turtles collect to sunbathe all over the logs that are just off the bank. They're always there when the sun is out and you can't not be slightly adoring at how frickin cute they are.

You see all sorts of people walking around the lake on a sunny day. Straight couples, gay couples, traditional and alternative families, everyone having picnics, bikini-clad girls taking in the rays, dogs of every shape and size, teams playing soccer, basketball, or football, a family playing bocce ball, some couples playing croquet, and the mini-golf course looked packed as well. I looked for the sweet older man who wears a sign on his back that says 'Spanish Lessons' and takes a few minutes talking with you in conversational Spanish if you're so inclined, but he wasn't there that day. I also didn't see a single rollerblader, which is unusual, but I did see an older gentleman in actual roller skates getting down with his bad self. The middle of the lake was littered with rented paddle boats and the outskirts were crowded with old men and families fishing for a little something. Not only did I get in 3.2 miles, I also took the fact in that there is life - all kinds - around me.. and it was a good reminder that it keeps going so I might as well too.

My afternoon was so calm and cathartic that it seemed appropriate to let loose at MJ's party that night. Chinese food led to a rowdy karaoke bar where bad drinks led to louder cheers for whatever 80's song we thought was perfect to be sung. L'il Peach started with The Eurithmics, Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This, then I followed with Fiona's Criminal and it just went on from there. A neighboring table and two other birthdays joined in the celebrating and debauchery. MJ got up to sing BareNakedLadies' If I Had $1,000,000 with me, L'il Peach and I found our karaoke high with Abba's Take A Chance On Me that had the whole bar dancing and our neighbor's table closed the bar with The Clash's Should I Stay Or Should I Go Now. Many MANY pictures were taken.. as you will see.. BUT we didn't stop there. We continued on to downtown where we cut a rug to some dancey grooves til about 3am and then decided we needed late-night hot dogs with the works before bed. It wasn't my party, but damn, it was the best time I'd had in a while. Also, did I mention drinks? Because there may have been many..

I show Erin a bit too much love here I believe..

MJ and L'il Peach are trying to be coy - I'm not sure what I'm doing.. being a ham? The usual probably.

Trying to be sexy.. I'm not sure what L'il Peach is doing.. but again, many many drinks.. keep in mind..

Underestimating how late Saturday night would keep me up, I'd made plans for a mid-morning brunch on Sunday with Yoda in Columbia City. I was surprised myself that I'd made it, but it was good for us to catch up. We hadn't in some time. I headed up to BC after that - looking forward to turning up the rockin' tunes in the car to as full blast as I could handle and passing thru the border easily. Well.. by 'easy' I meant 'fast' and the border wasn't that AT ALL.. but I did make it thru tho delayed, with no troubles. Met up with Ali and another friend, Skye-lea for drinks at a downtown bar and took in the Canadian ease about me.

I'm not sure my BC trip was everything I wanted, tho I'm not sure what I expected. Some friends I wrote to didn't respond to messages once I arrived so I just let happen what was going to happen, visited with Ali, and just let myself feel 'away'. We wandered and brunched on Monday, stopping to shop in Kitsilano where I got some sexy but probably slightly hoochie heeled sandals and eventually being shopped out, Ali and I said our goodbyes and I parked it at a cafe to write til the sun set. I then ventured wayyyy the heck out to Surrey to see my friend Joe and we talked and his mom fed me and it all felt very homey. Joe's mom is the Every Mom and I sort of wanted her to adopt me and take care of me for a bit since she was close and my own mother was a country and two states away. You can't just do that to your friends tho.. have their moms adopt you.. rude.

After dinner, I was homeward bound. The border was crossed quicker this time, but the gruff state-side patrol had to sternly remind me I need a passport come June 1st. Yes thank you officer (as in.. duh.. I read the InterWeb, thank you.. and if you did too, you would see it's still a week away.. so I don't actually need a passport do I? No.. not at this very moment because it is May 25th and not, in fact, June 1st.. so I'm not sure what is with the attitude buster.. you're going to let me pass now right? And yes, you are very manly, yes.. yes you are..)! I'm getting one oh-so-very soon! Smilesmilesmile..

I wish I could say I drove home to a perfectly tolerable work week, but you know when you're down and you're just getting steady? Wouldn't you know it.. your own stupid mouth gets your ass into trouble you didn't expect - even if it was just a misunderstanding and something that happened last week that you thought was cleared.. but apparently you are to be seen and not heard. And by you, I mean me. You knew that tho.

I'm a sponge! I'm open to understanding and change! I'm thinking positively!

Ok.. seriously.. just tell me it's going to get better (and consequently, I will also not be stupid enough to lose my job too.. god.. I couldn't take it.).. and oh yeah.. send wine. Ok, I'm kidding.. ok.. not really, but sort of.. I mean, no.. DO really send some. Do you think things could get worse?! C'mon!

The Process of Getting On..

Mother's Day was a pretty day. The sun was shining, the air smelled like flowers and it wasn't chilly at all. I sent texts and emails and left voicemails for my mother, grandmother and aunt and all my close friends with children or who are expecting children. My mom left for Hawaii the next day. I'm only bitter a teensy bit because tho I dream of a getaway to a warm beach a plane ride away, it's best I probably don't attempt that with family right now. Another time maybe, so I'm glad she's doing that for herself because she probably needs it just as badly as I do. I've had a huge craving for her to just take care of me tho and that's not really fair with all she's been thru, but lately, I could really go for a big long cry in her arms.

I'm trying to devise a plan for my summer - a way to force myself to keep going and keep busy so much that I'm not able to focus on missing my ex and I can get a break from the theatre community who pulls me back into those memories hard and fast. I'm committed to these last two projects that make me feel productive and happy about where those are going, however, they both take place within his theatre and when the last one ends, it will also be what would've been our one year anniversary together. It's just a disappointment I can't seem to get past.

It's silly I know - to hold onto an anniversary that we never had. We were chatting over IM the other day about said projects and I let him know I was really trying to be happy that we've known each other a year now and we're still apart of each other's lives rather than setting sights on that upcoming date we would miss marking together as a couple. It's more positive to think the former, but as June approaches, it's also hard to ignore the latter.

And I don't mean to ignore my writing here, but it's been hard to find anything to say other than 'I'm sad, blahblahblah, feel sorry for me, whine whine whine.' Who isn't sick of that?! I'm getting on my own nerves, but I just can't prevent it sometimes. And when I'm looming on the verge of pms, watch out. I'm a big pile of tears at least once if not eight times a day. Annoying.

But it hurts. All the missing of him..... It really really does. Sigh.. 

I at least eat, I throw myself into working out, but have recently gained a couple of pounds regardless. I just got some advice from a friend who's a former trainer so I'm hoping that makes a difference. I've bought some new books - the new one by David Sedaris that is wacky and at least makes me laugh, but I still can't listen to much music at all. Everything somehow reminds me of him unless it's techno and I'm so not in the mood to listen to that these days. I listen to a lot of NPR: This American Life, Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me and Whaddya Know, which also adds random levity.

In the meantime, I'm trying to prevent too much impulsive retail therapy. I seem to think with my tax refund that I have money coming out my ass. I have to admit tho, buying things helps. So far I've bought cute new shoes, make up in various shades and kinds, theater tickets for everyone and their dog including a pair for Boy and I to see RENT with the two original Broadway leads in June (I know, I know.. I'm a masochist, but god, we'd been talking about it for months.). I bought an extra large white shell-ish pendant and chain to wear in place of the necklaces he bought me for Christmas because tho I love those necklaces, it kills me to wear them and at the same time, I feel connected and hopeful in the smallest way - but I don't think it's healthy while there's so much sentiment attached to them (she says at the same time she's STILL going to a random but romantic rock musical with him during their almost-anniversary month.. Yes, I know how stupid that sounds.).

Mostly, I'm trying not to drink myself into a nightly stupor. This is difficult when wine helps A LOT. But luckily, I'm a lightweight so I rarely drink more than a couple glasses of anything when out with friends and I drink alone even less than that. And I'm alone about as much as wine helps get me thru things. So. Good thing I have David Sedaris and my tv.

Ohmygod - have you watched Southland? Awesome - and I saw a friend of mine on it recently who's a working actor in LA. That's never not rad. I'm heart'ing Castle a whole lot too. Cried all thru the second to last episode of the season of Grey's Anatomy last night - dear god.. stop me from watching that show - except you won't be able to - and then the Unusuals is also another good cop show, tho Amber Tamblyn kind of bugs. Personally, I'm just killing time til the new season of So You Think You Can Dance. Crossing fingers that someone awesomely fantastic gets in from Seattle since they had auditions here this year so we (me and all my gay boyfriends) have someone to root for.

I swear summer will not be filled with sunny days inside and pouting all the time. I refuse to do that to myself. I plan on taking some classes, which hopefully will include ballet and karate (Um.. not together and/or at the same time.. that would be weird.). I enjoyed both all thru college and have been wanting to get back into them here, but just haven't gotten around to finding classes available or the time. Clearly, if I don't want to sit around twiddling my thumbs (or doing some really unhealthy rebounding) when I'm on my theater/boy hiatus, I need something productive to do. Those seem the most likely candidates and they take up so much focus working to keep every part of your body engaged correctly, that I won't have time to think of missing anyone - not to mention all the yelling you get to do in karate that's incredibly therapeutic. There is no yelling in ballet. That would just be rude.

Alright - I'm off for the night. I'm going to see these people, Les Argonautes and have some laughs, which are long overdue this week. Oh, I'll be ok.. we know this, right? Eventually.. Time is fucking slow as all get out right now, that's all.. but if you want to send me some wine (or.. I dunno.. a pony?) to make it go faster, I promise to drink it and sleep oh-so soundly. AND send you a lovely thank you card to boot. Mwah!