Watch my steady lonesome gait...*

*From Laura Marling's song "New Romantic" You can watch the video below. This should be the theme song for every single woman over 25.

Here I am again. A rainy day in the city. Mood has been low the last two weeks, beyond that I don't remember.

I got fired in August as retribution for taking a disability leave, which I only took to avoid getting fired in the first place.... but I am better off without it. Except financially. Sigh. I have 6 classes this semester at three universities. 2 lectures everyday of the week. Nights, then morning, night, morning...Each day is a catchup from the day before and a whirlwind towards tomorrow and then the week is over. The new bipolar meds make me tired all the time. If I don't get 10 hours of sleep at night then I need a 2 hour nap that afternoon. A pile of 70 blue books mocks me. The test was Monday and I haven't touched them yet. I stayed up Monday night until 5 am grading 40 papers from two weeks before. Then I slept through my first morning class. So it goes. 40 more blue books arrive next Monday.

I have forsworn dating. Not for me, no thank you. The losers I wasted time on last year showed me that I am still most attracted to abusers. I cannot be trusted to choose a man for myself. And clearly, I cannot sustain an adult relationship. Those men who dare glance at me twice on the subway get a scowl in return.

And yet, the loneliness. It is endless. Night after night in my empty bed, coming home to my echoing apartment, the pains go unnoticed, the successes uncelebrated, the hope worn so thin it has disappeared.

And yet, there is him. "George". The boy I liked before ever we met. A mutual friend had told me of him, I assumed he lied. There was no one like that. My friend Steff laughed that if we ever met we'd have to get married. Months later, I met him and was not disappointed. He, the phantasm, has haunted me for 10 years.

He, the divorcee, told me his girlfriend has moved in. So, why did you call me at 1:34 in the morning!? Who calls an ex-girlfriend in the middle of the night to celebrate the election--when your woman sleeps in your bed one room away?!? If he feels the way I do, if the sound of my voice makes him grin and all the world makes perfect sense when our talking is done... Then I need to know. I can't go on guessing anymore. Yesterday I threatened to drive down to see him (and my other friends). He has not yet replied. He will say 'no' when he finds the diplomatic words. He shares body fluids and a home with that woman. What am I but a vague memory?

It is absolute foolishness to harbor fantasies and feelings for him. We have not seen each other in 6 years. We had plans in April, but I missed the plane--literally. I was too terrified. The memory of all that pain and my depressed conviction that I faced sure rejection slowed my movements to the airport. I think he was hurt. He stopped talking to me. And now he lives with her.

I lost him again. The end.

"Watch my steady lonesome gait and be aware, I will never love a man cause love and pain go hand in hand and I can't do it, again."


In love again...

It is a whole new day. I am in love again. It happened when watching the Fashion Shows on TV this weekend [(NYC TV--ch. 25) or Fullfrontalfashion.com ] I noticed that the music was freaking awesome. Music I had never heard before, and yet it sounded so familiar. I had to know the names of these bands! What was going on!?!? I stayed up all night on the computer researching, from one url to another and another and another...and I am smitten.

The 'new' britpop is the unbelievably awesome amalgamation of 80s new wave and 90s shoe-gazer/britpop. Hallalujah! It makes me so excited, almost painfully so, that I no longer have the need for a man. I feel just like I did at age 13 when I discovered college radio. It's the music I've been waiting for my whole life. Think The Cure meets Blur or The Clash meets the Stone Roses...CAN IT GET ANY BETTER??? I think not.

[If you know the group 'Sparks' from late 70s/80s--this is what music would sound like if they took over the world. Holy Crap! Sparks released a new album this year. Ha hahhahaha How is it that this 40 year old band doesn't have the accolades they deserve? But I disgress...]

I should be working, but I can't. I can't even eat, my lunch arrived 90 minutes ago and I'm starving. But I just bought/downloaded my first MP3: Haunted by Cut Copy. I also bought a CD after class this morning: Boxer by The National.

Here are some other bands I'm checking out. (I'll put in links later. I suggest going to YouTube where you can hear the whole song.)I read one review where they called this Nu-Rave. Very appropriate name. Some of the songs from these bands need work, but they are very young. They have the time to master their skills. In the meantime, enjoy:

*Mystery Jets
*Black Kids
*The National
*Cut Copy
*Tokyo Police Club
*Laura Marling (runs the same show circuit in Britain with the other bands, but more folky like Suzanne Vega)

(If you know more bands of this genre, please let me know!)


Spring Fever

This is not OK. I cannot work for these people. It is not OK for your long distance supervisor to put you on probation and then ask 'What are your feelings about this?' EXCUSE ME?! WHAT DO YOU THINK MY FEELINGS ARE??? You just told me my performance is unacceptable! I knew I couldn't say what I wanted to: "It's none of your damn business about my feelings'. So I tried to think of the answer she wanted to hear..... nothing came to mind. Then I repeated the question, "What are my feelings?" "Yes." I still couldn't figure it out, so I just said, "I feel bad." Please Lord, get me out of this company. Send me to a new boss who will never ask me my feelings, who knows it is inappropriate, and that's what we pay therapists for!

Had she seen me, she'd have seen the tears. There is nothing like failing at a job you are over-qualified for to make one feel bad. This job is too emotionally damaging. These people are worker-bees who thrive on being over-directed and who enjoy the cumbersome behemoth bureaucracy because it creates more work for them. Does it make them feel needed? All I know, they like complaining about the work-load and the minute you suggest ways to alleviate it they shut up and walk away. Martyr, much? The pointless work makes me want to impale myself in the trachea with my pen. Unlike everyone else here, I will not sell my soul to this company, I will not work extra hours for free, and I will not do what my superiors tell me to do if it's stupid. (This seems to piss them off.)

The irony of it all is this: On Monday night, I gave the final exam to my undergrads. At the end, one girl nervously handed me an envelope. She said, 'This is from the class.' It was a thank you card! Half the students signed it--with notes like 'this class was a joy', and 'you are the best prof I've ever had.' Come on! That almost made me start blubbering right there. And then, the next morning I went to work and found a meeting invite from my supervisor, subject: "work standards". SIGH. I got to hear about all the complaints-- how I can't meet my sales people's deadlines, and it takes me too long to make appointments...blah, blah, blah. Now I have 30 days to improve my timeliness and effective communication. Whatever. I just had 20 hardened NYC 18 year-olds thank me for teaching them a required and unpopular class...but it's all on me, not the sales people.


And what of the Celibate's love life since last you heard? Ugh. Ugly. I re-fell in love only to shoot myself in the heart, again. Now he won't talk to me anymore. Again.

And what of my mental defect? I have a new diagnosis! Bipolar II. My doctor thinks this will solve my problems. She put me on new meds. I'm not hopeful, my poor little heart can't take disappointment anymore. Besides, I've heard this record before.

Stay tuned (I've been cycling weekly, so in a few days I might write something happier.)


This is not the end

He did not say "no". He said "yes". He would like to see me.

The time for my grand gesture is NOW. I'm going to cancel classes and drive 1000 miles to see him. Soon. When I can get away, I'm hoping in 2 weekends. We will see if we still have chemistry. If he still makes me flutter. If his sad round sky-blue eyes will welcome me in.

And, we will see:

Why he came looking for me after the divorce? Why he calls me when he is getting serious with a new girlfriend? Why he is so interested in my future plans? Does he mean to send these signals? Or, is he just being friendly?

Because we are way beyond the time for games:

I will lay my heart all out for him. I will explain that there was no one better, I've never known a more beautiful man. That I am interested in trying again. He has but to say the word and I'll drop everything and go home to Georgia. To be with him. Or, that I can wait for as long as it takes. Because we both have a lot of work to do. [EEK! How did I become this woman--one who would do something like that!]

I can write this now and mean it absolutely. Now. But in two weeks, there is no telling what I'll do, how I will feel, nor the state of my psyche (e.g. if it's a fetal position stay in bed kind of weekend, then I may never go). . . All I can do is take my pills and pray. The rest is in God's hands.

Stay tuned.