I’m all for a good pity party, but only if the venting brings clarity to the situation or makes it more bearable.

Last night’s post did neither.  So, bye bye!

I’m fighting a cold again.  Perhaps the two most depressing things about this are:

1)  I planned the Phoenix trip very carefully, had a great time, and still something went wrong.

2)  I have little choice about work.  Unless I start ejecting organs, I can’t afford to stay home.  Double ick that work itself is hectic and frustrating right now so I can’t just sit at my desk and sniffle while pushing a mouse around in circles.

If I could stay home?  I would spend the entire day watching Buffy while doing Logic Puzzles.  I’ll be counting the hours until I can come home and get a good healthy dose of Spike and “In the round-two matches, Mr. Parks beat Ken, Maurice beat the one who uses the Yeti racket, Mr. Odgen beat the owner of the Astro racket, and the one who uses the Net Result racket beat Quentin, in some order.”

Doesn’t just reading that clear your sinuses? 

Question time!

1)  Why do I sniff the milk if, as long as it’s still a pourable liquid, I’m going to put it in my coffee anyway?

2)  Why can’t I sleep?  Why?  People, it’s 4:33am right now.  My alarm was supposed to go off at 5am.

3)  Where are my lifting gloves?  I had the most perfect pair that gave me the best wrist support ever.  Yesterday I upped all the weights in my upper body workout and twisted my right wrist a bit.  I want my gloves.

4)  What is this tan box that is plugged AND screwed into my hallway electrical outlet?  When I was first looking at the condo, I thought it was some sort of charger for one of the worker’s power tools.  Yes, I’ve lived here over a year.  I haven’t cared because it has pretty much kept to itself and not raided the fridge.  The only reason I’m caring now is because electricity prices went so high.  Will alarms go off if I unscrew it?  What the hell do you screw into an electrical outlet?  I’m scared.  Hold me.

TG is having problems commenting.  He sent me this email last night: 

“Not sure what this is, but every time I try to comment (in IE and in Firefox), I get this error upon submission:

“Error: This file cannot be used on its own.”"

I found some info on a wordpress support forum that it sounds like it might be something with my firewall settings.  I have Norton Internet Security 2006. 

Have you had the same problem?  Do you know the solution?  Please let me know!

I will try to resolve this, but I won’t have any time to until late next week.

I also simply must share that he sent me the comment he tried to post on Disharmonies and it was so sweet that I almost commented as him just so everyone could read it.  But even though I suck at relationships, I realized that impersonating him on the Innernets might somehow be a breach of trust.

She can be taught! 

So, I am all chipper now and ready for Phoenix!
 
(Funny, I am not all chipper because of great sleep.  In fact, I said, “Fuck it” and got up at 5:30am the last two mornings.) 
 
It’s amazing what a little list and organizing can do for my spirits.
 
Specifically, I have:
 
1)      Determined which books I’m going to bring: L’Affaire, Waiting for Snow in Havana, and Old Man’s War.  The first two are from my grandmother’s book club; I always stock up on books when I see them.  And yes, my grandmother’s book club read L’Affaire, which I would not have thought was a book club type book but at least it means I get to read it without buying it myself.  I’m going to count Waiting for Snow in Cuba towards my non-fiction resolution even though it is technically a memoir and we all know how much fiction can go into those.  Old Man’s War is what TG read last time he flew and he really enjoyed it.  I think I’ve picked a good range of material and insured I will not get bored.
 
2)      Asked TG to watch the animals.  He is a kick ass pet sitter, and unfortunately for him he also lives the closest to my house of any possible pet sitters so he gets tapped a lot.  (I make up for it in payment methods, I swear.)  TG’s schedule is usually very up in the air, so I often don’t ask him until the last minute.  But this week he asked the skinny on the trip early and gave me the perfect opportunity to pop the question.  It takes a load off my mind to have that squared away.
 
3)      Determined which shoes I’m going to bring.  I am a light packer.  I could not tell you the last time I went on a trip and I was not the one with the least amount of luggage.  (Enough negatives in that sentence for you?)  But my one weakness is shoes.  I tend to over-do shoe packing for two reasons.  A) More shoes = more outfits.  I pack light in part by choosing clothes that I can dress up or down depending on footwear.  B) More shoes = happy body.  It’s an orthotic/shin/pain thing that just reads incredibly boring, trust me.  But this time I’ve settled on a mere two pairs – my sneakers and my most favorite sixteen dollar black sandals that have now lasted two years even though I wear them constantly.
 
4)      Decided to bring sleep aids for the flight back.  I know it doesn’t make sense to many people.  But it does for me.  First, there is no way I can get through a five-hour flight without some sort of downer.  I am just wound that tight and the consequences of making me sit still for five hours are not pretty.  (The flight there will probably be OK because it will be happy excitement and not stressed oh-shit-I-have-so-much-to-do-when-I-get-home)  Second, most people nap on flights.  I am not a napper.  I wish I was.  Many an afternoon I know that if I could just re-juice my evening would go so much better.  Chemically aiding the process is the only way I will get some shuteye.  And I will need some at least, because oh-shit-I-have-so-much-to-do-when-I-get-home.  T is afraid I will be too groggy afterwards to get shit done.  I seriously doubt it but that is not the worse thing to ever happen. 
 
Besides having some girl time, the thing I am looking forward to the most is food. 
 
I’ve been hitting the diet pretty religiously during these last few weeks, although I let myself relax a little on the weekends.  

When my family was in town that meant having some great dinners at a couple of my favorite restaurants.  But this last weekend between hurrying to the concert and having two weirdly timed non-food-eating dates, I ended up using the term “relax a little” to mean, “eat something quick and fattening.”

I’m all about the fattening and the quick.  But you’ll notice the word “good” wasn’t in there.  Not once did I eat something I truly was looking forward to.  And when I’m in major weight loss mode?  That doesn’t cut it.  I’ll gladly take a smaller creep on the scale for chocolate bread pudding.  For Domino’s cheesy bread?  Not so much.

But!  Dawn will be in Phoenix.  In general, Dawn has this awesome way approaching every little thing to get the most out of it.  Dawn will not eat a bad meal ever.  If I were heading to Phoenix without her?  I’d assume I was at the mercy of whatever was closest and cheapest.  But she and I have already had an entire IM conversation full of nothing but Phoenix restaurants. 
 
We’re not sure how close they are to things.  We’re not sure exactly where we’ll be at lunchtime or how many will be at the Saturday bash.  But this weekend is not about the quick.  It is all about the good.

And the fattening of course.  Can’t forget the fattening. 

Miss Kendra mentioned match.com, so I thought I’d weigh in on them as well.

That’s where TG and I met.  (Want his profile?!  Want my profile?!  I bet you do!)

I think match.com overall is pretty good.  True, it depresses me sometimes, but that’s because I see it as a garbage-in-garbage-out situation.  (HI.  I DONT KNO WHAT TO WRIT HEAR.) 

For someone who prefers written communication, it is great to read profiles and see what kind of sense of humor and intelligence shines through. 

My profile is (TG, feel free to correct me) rather unique (a rare gem!), and very “me”; not necessarily in the facts I share but in how I share them.  I don’t get a ton of responses, but I seem to get a high percentage of responses from people I’d actually like to meet.  That works for me.  I’m not in it to stroke my ego or make me feel popular.

match.com lets you see everyone, everything.  It’s up to you to decide what to do.  And I can tell you right now, if you have had a typo in your profile for months and are too lazy to correct it?  I know exactly what to do.

Match is testing a new idea, chemistry.com.  I guess it is supposed to be like eHarmony (of course, I wouldn’t know.)  They send you profiles and walk you through steps before you are allowed to freely email.  I have gone through the steps, and found it interesting but not necessarily worth the extra time and effort.

Oh, and I put another picture on my profile.  A prettier one, I think.  Since then?  I’ve got increasingly more emails that just say, “Hi cutie!” or “I’d like 2 chat with u.”  Blech.  But that’s a whole ‘nother post.

I read this (via Ken) and decided to write about the fact that eHarmony also rejected me.
 
Twice.
 
The first time, I was only separated.  And yes, I understood why they rejected me.  In fact, I feel pretty strongly against dating while in the middle of divorce – it’s just too much drama for everyone involved.  It happened with me and W, but it happened organically out of pre-existing friendships. 
 
So why was I filling out the profile?  Boredom and friends wanted me to.  I too was curious why they chose not to put the relationship status question first.  When I started the profile, I kept looking for this question, so sure it would block me.  Since this was at the end, I didn’t expect it to be a deal-breaker. 
 
Although getting to fill out the entire personality test did make me want to come back once my divorce was final.  So perhaps that’s the carrot.
 
The second time?

“eHarmony is based upon a complex matching system developed through extensive research with married couples. One of the requirements for successful matching is that participants to fall within certain defined profiles. If we find that we will not be able to match a user using these profiles, we feel it is only fair to inform them early in the process.

We are so convinced of the importance of creating compatible matches to help people establish happy, lasting relationships that we sometimes choose not to provide service rather than risk an uncertain match.

Unfortunately, we are not able to make our profiles work for you. Our matching model could not accurately predict with whom you would be best matched. This occurs for about 20% of potential users, so 1 in 5 people simply will not benefit from our service. We hope that you understand, and we regret our inability to provide service for you at this time.”

I guess I could have pursued it and made a stink. I really have no more information than what’s written above.  My hunch is that they judged me as unmatchable because I was
 
1) Honest about my religion.  (I attend church (Presbyterian) more regularly than some, but I am not baptized and therefore not a Christian).
 
2) Honest about my marital preferences.  (I do not see marriage as a necessity.  There are many reasons for it, and I’m not against it, but it is not a given in my mind that if I find a man I wish to be with for the rest of my life we will make that commitment legally binding.)

eHarmony is supposed to be this great place where you will find a soul mate, but they seem to have rigid rules for those deserving of such love.  Is it really so risky to match me?  Aren’t all matches uncertain?
 
And I can’t help but wonder if people tried to be more honest, put more of themselves into these profiles, if that 20% would become greater.
 
I suppose that it is eHarmony’s right to choose, and the reason I didn’t pursue any further explanation.  But they certainly are not upfront about it. 
 
If I had less self-esteem, I would have been devastated by the message above.  I had to go back to the site today to grab that quote and was shocked all over again.  At the time, I found it funny and proof that I am unique.  Can’t pin me down in your stupid personality types!  A rare gem here!  But…in retrospect, aren’t they kind of saying I’m flawed when it comes to love?  Don’t they realize I feel flawed enough?
      
By the way, the nail in the coffin for me was finding out that eHarmony doesn’t do same-sex pairings.  I strongly believe in showing my opinions through my pocketbook and if they for some reason changed their mind and deemed my personality matchable I would not join. 

It’s first thing on Monday morning and I’ve had tears kinda welling in my eyes multiple times already.  Does not bode well for the rest of the day.

It even feels a little good.  Moistens the contacts.
 
My weekend was fabulous.  Besides the concert, TG and I had a great night together Friday, and I spent Sunday afternoon at the Fine Arts museum and walking around the Pier getting to know someone new who has the most adorable southern accent.  (Evidently the word granddaddy makes me swoon.  Who knew?)
 
So, technically, I have no reason for the water works.
 
But I haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now.  First it was a week of bad dreams.  Then a week of adjusting to a schedule with more physical activity.  The weekend prior to this I slept in beds other than my own every single night.  This last weekend it seemed everything conspired against me. 

Yesterday I felt slow in interactions, like I was on a different RPM.  I kept remembering things I meant to tell people and then debated between re-contacting them so I wouldn’t forget again or locking up the phone and laptop for the evening because of the high probability I’d just confuddle things more.
 
But this morning?  It hit me like I was a crack whore and sleep is my pimp.  I felt too fragile to handle anything more than half my usual caffeine intake.  I would have thrown up otherwise.  I contemplated taking the day off.  I got downstairs and there were orange cones in front of my usual exit gate.  It was just too much.  Commence eyeball hydration.

The Phoenix trip is this upcoming weekend.  I haven’t been looking forward to it as much as I wish I could.  I’ve been trying to psyche myself up for it, in part knowing that I always enjoy a trip more than I think I will when I’m planning the travel.
 
But driving into work this morning, I realized I’m going to have two five-hour flights within two days, cross two times zones twice, and sleep on lord knows what for two nights.
 
Sniff.

Hopefully I’ll feel better as the day goes on.  It sucks to be at work, but at least it’s routine and that’s what my body handles best in this state.  I’ll bet by this afternoon when I get home I won’t even want to post this.  It will seem silly. 

It started with a 1996 Tom Petty concert for my birthday.

Since then, we’ve celebrated each other getting one year older through herbal wraps, plays, pedicures, and antiquing.
 
Occasions.  Events.  This is our MO over wrapping paper and candles.  It’s especially meaningful now because we see so little of each other.  M lives a good 45-minutes away and runs a bakery with her husband.  While they are successful, they need a bigger place to expand to the point they can hire help.  Her normal schedule calls for about three hours sleep in the wee morning hours, and perhaps a two-hour nap later on.

So when she called me on a Thursday afternoon (unheard of – we catch up Saturday mornings while she drives her delivery route and I putter around the condo) just to tell me that Bon Jovi had added another concert date – a Saturday concert which meant she could go – I knew what her gift this year was.

The evening was great.  We didn’t start out early enough for dinner at Tina’s Tapas like we planned (I haven’t heard great things, but it’s different and boasts sangria so I want to try it out), but had a nice snack at Sliders – complete with cosmos which reminded us damn we could drink back then and what the hell happened.
 
The concert itself was pretty good.  But the highlight for both of us was Jennifer Nettles’ appearance to sing “Who says you can’t go home”.

Home, where it is, and if I can get there don’t rattle in my psyche quite as loud as two years ago.  I haven’t come to answers, but to a peace.  I’m aware that I can drive a section of Tampa and feel as if I was birthed by the street signs just as easily as I feel that they might turn on me in any second.  Same in Chicago.  Same in Eagle River.

And that’s OK.  Because sometimes feeling at home gives me the shakes just as much as feeling out of place.  I haven’t given up hope I might find it someday for real, but like love I believe it will only happen if I’m not expecting it.  And like love, I don’t believe I need to wait for home to define me.  I’m doing just fine on my own.

Last night, being amazed by Jennifer’s voice and the fact that I could actually hear the harmony notes in such a huge venue, sitting next to M who has known me for 13 years and has been so connected to me that once I called from a payphone at Albertson’s and when she picked up all I said was hello and she immediately replied, “I’ll be there with your spare keys” because she just knew I’d locked mine in the trunk, it felt very much like home.

This is an email conversation between TG and myself two Fridays ago, when we had some of the worst rain/flooding ever seen in this area.  I’m pretty sure he knew it would show up here at some point.  Almost every time we see each other these days he asks at least once, “Are you blogging this?”  (Sometimes he wants the answer to yes because he thinks we’ve hit upon something incredibly funny and “us”.  Sometimes he grabs my hand, kisses it, and says, “bless you” when the answer is no.)

It took me two hours to get home that day and my condo was in pretty bad shape, but the roof was supposedly fixed yesterday.  I’ll believe it after the next rain.

It is mainly work that is causing me to not have any new words.  Hopefully I’ll get some time this weekend.

To:  TG
From: Jessica
 
DUDE.  It is RAINING in the HALLWAY and my neighbor’s CUBICLE.  I am
on the first floor of a 2-story building.  I also feel the need to YELL because this morning’s MEETING was PAINFUL.  Poor Coworker stopped by to VENT and all I could do was laugh
because I HAVE GIVEN UP.

Perhaps Jack Bauer could show up and fix everything.  Or kill me.

To:  Jessica
From: TG
 
Damn Florida and their need to build sprawling flat-roof buildings.
 
I only hope your condo’s roof is faring better.
 
Jack Bauer does not sleep. He lurks. And waits
 
To:  TG
From: Jessica
 
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH  I HAD NOT THOUGHT OF MY CONDO WHY DID YOU SAY CONDO???????????

I need:

a drink
House
another drink
Jack Bauer
some fun-yuns

To:  Jessica
From: TG
 
Sorry. I figured that’d be the FIRST thing that occurred to you.
 
Now, as always, I feel like the fucking asshole.
 
Then again, House would’ve brought up the condo too….
 
To:  TG
From: Jessica
 
Aw, you don’t really feel like an asshole, do you?  Because you
shouldn’t.  I should be kissing your ass that I know someone who will
remind me of important things that really should not fall into my “out
of sight, out of mind” category.

Which is kinda everything.  I so suck at being an adult.

House would have informed me of all the killer mold that is festering
in my ceiling, waiting to kill me.  He would have described it in
detail until I either 1) slapped him or 2) cried.  Either is probably
foreplay.

To:  Jessica
From: TG
 
“probably” foreplay? HA.
 
The storm is RIGHT. OVERHEAD. Nice. Loud. Clouds go boom.

Thank you for all the welcomes!

So, the one thing I thought I could do for you today?  Post a picture?  Not so much.  It just shows up as a little red x with which I’m sure everyone is familiar.  I will endevour sometime over the weekend when my patience and concentration is hovering slightly higher on the scale than gnat.

This is the picture I wish to share with you.  Me, deranged, after a wedding and way too many bobby pins.  Only the best for you!