And its not like I THINK I'm old but being 33 isn't exactly fresh and young when it comes to dating. According to the New York Press, even my eggs are too old. Prime eggs peak around 18 and then stop peaking near age 25. Of course I try to LIVE "young" and I THINK "fresh" so I'm confident in my eggs even now. They are wise and sharp. Not at all ready for retirement.
Where was I? yes, the alien on the subway. I was crossing to the 4/5 express at 42nd st (typical commute) and I stepped around a man holding a hand drawn diagram of his "universe". Which apparently wanted only spiritual godly people and if you were female, he specifically pointed out that you CANNOT be a minute over 29 to enter his congregation. He was refusing "old women"!!! And he defined OLD by 30 and ABOVE!!!That mullet haired bastard.
Cause I see even my male friends (in their 30's) checking out younger women. Fresh meat. The Older man (aka last man i dated) went from me to a 26 year old (so i heard). And he was 53. Then this guy at work has a cute friend I met on Friday night whose 28 and he just broke up with an 18 year old!
EIGHTEEN! what are we taking from this?
men of all ages want ripe younger women with fresh parts but not necessarily fresh minds. And this essentially CLARIFIES the point made by my older skater friend from last Saturday night when we were chatting....he said:
"...men only want a relationship with "the one" and anyone else they just want to have fun with"
Ok. I don't see anything super wrong with that. If we believe it then there is some shred of hope for us that men actually continue to quest for the "one". but then again, do you think when a man decides to date someone years younger than him, do you think he has already decided there is no way this is the "one". Do you think he will just play it out as long as he can until even a HINT of "relationship" surfaces? Perhaps there is something to this. I don't know.
Its all just tuesday nite chatter.
ps. thanks to all who chimed in with my warning signs of sadness, I am so thankful for you all.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Monday, October 01, 2007
what do you want to hear
Did you come here to read about how happy I am? How wonderful being single is? How I cannot wait to move to Paris?
NO. You came here cause you want the truth. And cause I'm (mostly) not afraid to tell it straight.
Ok so on the west side path, right as I'm approaching the totally GORGEOUS column-aide area which sits on a cliff and overlooks the hudson and is pretty much the coolest view I've ever seen, I got super sad. TERRIBLY SAD. I almost cried. But I fought it, I fought for the tears TO COME out. God dammit, I am so sick of being sad. I want the tears OUT OF MY BODY! But they wouldn't come. They were not ready I guess. Why? I dont know. What I do know is that sadness is there so that happiness MEANS more. I need it. I crave it. How can I be happy all the fucking time. I was there to burn off the energy. To see the red lighthouse. Because its a story. I like stories and this is the story of how far I skated. How I need competition and how I can skate to the cloisters faster than your stupid local train reminding you not to ride on the outside.
And I wasn't going to tell you this. I was refraining from talking sad. I didn't want you to know about it. But tonight a friend agreed that I should NOT call/email/fax the lawyer I met on the subway and it was RIGHT then that I knew I was not letting lonliness rule my life. I knew that I was making choices based on hard core truths and not dreams of kissing lips.
damn the truth
damn the truth
Go ahead readers and push back the fear, the sadness, release it in the bag around your carrier piggeon and let it fly away. I will handle all residual feeling and skate it up north, leave it at the GW bridge.
And under that bridge is the cute saxophone player who never plays his saxophone but sits near it looking totally hot. I had to smile. I DID smile. and maybe cause he might as well be in alaska.
I dont want to live here anymore but I cant stand leaving.
NO. You came here cause you want the truth. And cause I'm (mostly) not afraid to tell it straight.
Ok so on the west side path, right as I'm approaching the totally GORGEOUS column-aide area which sits on a cliff and overlooks the hudson and is pretty much the coolest view I've ever seen, I got super sad. TERRIBLY SAD. I almost cried. But I fought it, I fought for the tears TO COME out. God dammit, I am so sick of being sad. I want the tears OUT OF MY BODY! But they wouldn't come. They were not ready I guess. Why? I dont know. What I do know is that sadness is there so that happiness MEANS more. I need it. I crave it. How can I be happy all the fucking time. I was there to burn off the energy. To see the red lighthouse. Because its a story. I like stories and this is the story of how far I skated. How I need competition and how I can skate to the cloisters faster than your stupid local train reminding you not to ride on the outside.
And I wasn't going to tell you this. I was refraining from talking sad. I didn't want you to know about it. But tonight a friend agreed that I should NOT call/email/fax the lawyer I met on the subway and it was RIGHT then that I knew I was not letting lonliness rule my life. I knew that I was making choices based on hard core truths and not dreams of kissing lips.
damn the truth
damn the truth
Go ahead readers and push back the fear, the sadness, release it in the bag around your carrier piggeon and let it fly away. I will handle all residual feeling and skate it up north, leave it at the GW bridge.
And under that bridge is the cute saxophone player who never plays his saxophone but sits near it looking totally hot. I had to smile. I DID smile. and maybe cause he might as well be in alaska.
I dont want to live here anymore but I cant stand leaving.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
French Lessons in the states
I am consistently given the advice that, when in France, always try to speak French first, then once the Frenchie see's you are useless, they will (hopefully) return to you in English. So fine, I have no problem doing that. But a few weeks ago I attended this inline skating event here in NYC and met a few frenchies who were very impressive skaters. Particularly Chloe, she has this one behind the leg with the other leg in the opposite hand whilst twisting and slaloming thru cones. Its pretty cool.
Ok so I mustered up the confidence to approach her and make my introduction. I said "Hello, I'm AnnaLisa" and she starred at me as if she didn't understand. I then said "J'mappelle AnnaLisa" to which she finally responded "Oh, I'm Chloe". Hmmmmmmmmm.
I thought this interaction over for about a half a second and realized that I need to get used to this. Although, my disclaimer for this incident would be that I assumed, being in the states, that it would be KOSHER to speak first in English. However, to a French person, or at least to Chloe, this was not acceptable.
A few minutes later I was introduced to another Frenchie and had a similar interaction. Or at least I felt slightly...looking for the word here...demeaned? or just felt bad/wierd. I dont know. He refused to tell me where people skate in Paris. He simply said "the south". Which did nothing to narrow down the location for me. After some probing, I got him to mention "near the public library" which I will have to look up. I haven't yet. I'm still upset because I hate to be hated. I need lovin all the time day and nite!!
haha. kidding. well mostly kidding.
Ok so I mustered up the confidence to approach her and make my introduction. I said "Hello, I'm AnnaLisa" and she starred at me as if she didn't understand. I then said "J'mappelle AnnaLisa" to which she finally responded "Oh, I'm Chloe". Hmmmmmmmmm.
I thought this interaction over for about a half a second and realized that I need to get used to this. Although, my disclaimer for this incident would be that I assumed, being in the states, that it would be KOSHER to speak first in English. However, to a French person, or at least to Chloe, this was not acceptable.
A few minutes later I was introduced to another Frenchie and had a similar interaction. Or at least I felt slightly...looking for the word here...demeaned? or just felt bad/wierd. I dont know. He refused to tell me where people skate in Paris. He simply said "the south". Which did nothing to narrow down the location for me. After some probing, I got him to mention "near the public library" which I will have to look up. I haven't yet. I'm still upset because I hate to be hated. I need lovin all the time day and nite!!
haha. kidding. well mostly kidding.
French Advice from French Man
Mr. Jean Labarre. Yes - he is the reason I am moving to Paris. He is a french man currently living in Chicago with his American wife and he used to work in the Paris office I'm going to work in. He knows everyone there. He passed along my resume to his people. Ok ok. so then once I was hired he emailed asking if it was really true. Did i accept the offer. Yes. we know i did. But then I wanted him to CONFIRM what everyone had told me about how much the French dislike Americans and here is what he said about that:
...As for Paris …no, they don’t dislike Americans there, they just dislike everybody. That shouldn’t be too much of a change coming from New York!...
...Seriously, though, my word of advice would be to never approach somebody speaking in English. Say at least one or two sentences in French and ask them if they speak English. Generally, they will (albeit poorly, sometimes…) and they will be happy to help you since you showed good will. On the other hand, if you’re like “hey how do I do this or do that” right away, they’ll purposely mislead you (at least, that’s what I would do when I was living over there J)...
I LOVE how he totally admitted that he would mislead an American too. At least he is being dead honest with me. That is MUCH appreciated. Thank you JL.
...As for Paris …no, they don’t dislike Americans there, they just dislike everybody. That shouldn’t be too much of a change coming from New York!...
...Seriously, though, my word of advice would be to never approach somebody speaking in English. Say at least one or two sentences in French and ask them if they speak English. Generally, they will (albeit poorly, sometimes…) and they will be happy to help you since you showed good will. On the other hand, if you’re like “hey how do I do this or do that” right away, they’ll purposely mislead you (at least, that’s what I would do when I was living over there J)...
I LOVE how he totally admitted that he would mislead an American too. At least he is being dead honest with me. That is MUCH appreciated. Thank you JL.
Monday, September 24, 2007
never had a touch to lose
Haha. starting out with a joke. of course im CERTAIN the only person on earth who would get that joke (in the title) is Mr. Wes Anderson himself. I borrowed the quote of course from Bottle Rocket. Mr. Andersons greatest feat yet. (i havent seen The Darjeeling Limited And the point is that last night I found myself completely blank when a cute guy approached me at the movies. I sat in front of him during the film and we were on the escalators down and he started talking to me. As soon as I opened my mouth I knew I would be a disaster. I hadn't planned on talking to anyone except the ticket guy and I was, well, completely dumbfounded. I started stuttering...thinking about the entire thing in my mind WAY TOO MUCH...As we both left the building, I had no idea what to do or say and so I turned and walked away. Not even a "have a good nite" came from my mouth. I was silent. I walked on slowly and shamefully. I BIG LOSER I felt like. I mean honestly, I dont know why I felt so bad, I'm not trying to meet anyone but I can't believe that so much time has gone by since my last man, I have actually forgotten how to flirt! Or even TALK to a guy.
Admittedly, I am lonely. I long to be in love but I'm leaving the states, and as lonely as I am, I cannot deal with getting into something to just up and leave it. And I'm definately not looking for just sex...But human touch and affection is what I miss. Yes, dammit. I do. And so I simply could NOT go home after that disaster of a:
a. movie (superbad is the worst film)
b. bad encounter with cute guy
So I wandered into my local pub hoping to see Laura and/or Brian and to my utter SHOCK there was this new girl behind the bar. *MONICA* Well maybe not new but I'd never seen her before and I thought I knew everyone. So I didn't even know what to do. My signature drink (margarita on the rocks with salt) was ONLY to be trusted with Brian first and then since he taught Laura, her rendition is acceptable. But who was Monica and how on earth could she make a decent drink!!!
THESE HORRIBLE thoughts were going through my mind. I was about to walk out and Monica insisted I try hers (on the house!) to compare. Ok So I stayed. I couldnt believe how nice she was being and I was apologizing like a freak trying not to make her feel bad. So she whipped up her own.
And well, I lied. I lied through my teeth that it was "comparable" to Brians. Seriously though, it was WAY better than most places in town but not even CLOSE to Brians. Sorry Monica! It was a good effort so I tipped her well.
So in conclusion, yesterday, although 24 miles of skating occured, I have certainly lost any potential "touch" I may have had in the past with dudes. Thus further proving my longing for human touch and affection thus ever FURTHER proving that I am going to have to get another massage today with Abe. That bastard owes me anyway since I bought last week.
Thank you and good nite.
Admittedly, I am lonely. I long to be in love but I'm leaving the states, and as lonely as I am, I cannot deal with getting into something to just up and leave it. And I'm definately not looking for just sex...But human touch and affection is what I miss. Yes, dammit. I do. And so I simply could NOT go home after that disaster of a:
a. movie (superbad is the worst film)
b. bad encounter with cute guy
So I wandered into my local pub hoping to see Laura and/or Brian and to my utter SHOCK there was this new girl behind the bar. *MONICA* Well maybe not new but I'd never seen her before and I thought I knew everyone. So I didn't even know what to do. My signature drink (margarita on the rocks with salt) was ONLY to be trusted with Brian first and then since he taught Laura, her rendition is acceptable. But who was Monica and how on earth could she make a decent drink!!!
THESE HORRIBLE thoughts were going through my mind. I was about to walk out and Monica insisted I try hers (on the house!) to compare. Ok So I stayed. I couldnt believe how nice she was being and I was apologizing like a freak trying not to make her feel bad. So she whipped up her own.
And well, I lied. I lied through my teeth that it was "comparable" to Brians. Seriously though, it was WAY better than most places in town but not even CLOSE to Brians. Sorry Monica! It was a good effort so I tipped her well.
So in conclusion, yesterday, although 24 miles of skating occured, I have certainly lost any potential "touch" I may have had in the past with dudes. Thus further proving my longing for human touch and affection thus ever FURTHER proving that I am going to have to get another massage today with Abe. That bastard owes me anyway since I bought last week.
Thank you and good nite.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Big LONG Day
This day did not start when i woke up. This day started when I skated to the OPPOSITE END of this most beautiful island of Manhattan!!!!
Yes, you heard me. TO THE END. oh and did I mention AND BACK. There were some short water fountain and stretching breaks but mostly I did NOT stop.
Back at the other end, I sat on a bench and watched the people and the water. I am really gonna miss this place.
total time: ~4 heurs
Yes, you heard me. TO THE END. oh and did I mention AND BACK. There were some short water fountain and stretching breaks but mostly I did NOT stop.
Back at the other end, I sat on a bench and watched the people and the water. I am really gonna miss this place.
total time: ~4 heurs
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
behind the scenes
When my friend adamantly denied me from blogging about her relationship, I asked her then what am I supposed to blog about?...she said "Paris you fool!" (I added the fool part but I know she was thinking that). and I guess that got me thinking that as I mentally prepare myself for this, I don't really talk about it much do I.
***BUT I ASSURE YOU READERS, I THINK ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME*****
like today at 3:30pm on the way up the west side as I passed the crazy silver string bikini grandma who does ballet and tonight when I was watching the worst episode of greys anatomy ever...I thought, goodbye good television, goodbye stupid lady, I rode down the path (on skates) against the wind thinking of all the things I will be saying goodbye to. A friend recently said to me I would like living in Paris but I probably wont stay long at all. And he hardly knows me. We were friends back in Georgia but its been years. I wondered if he was just super intuitive and is basing that prediction on who I used to be or who I have become now (our current friendships exists soley online chatting). It wasn't supposed to bother me but it did.
I am scared about this move, YES. And I go through moments where I am so fucking scared, I cannot breathe. Then there are these incredible moments like earlier tonight when I was making my bed and thinking how excited I am for that moment when I say my first French sentence that a French person actually understands! And I get all googly. Incidentally I was also thinking that Google (the company) gets a LOT of play from me (several times per HOUR of each and every day) so perhaps the day I move, they could decorate their google logo in true FrancoAmericanoAnnaLisa!
Of course I also spend a bit of time, of course, dealing with the fact that this is not really happening to me and my flight to Paris will certainly end mid-ocean and plummet vertically to my ultimate death!. haha.
But the deal is, this is ALL about moving away from your comfort zone. The little things that you need to remind you that you are ok. For me, right now, its not a person, but its the island I live on, the familiar pier I spend every sunset on, the slimey man at the deli who makes my iced coffee just perfect, even the shoe maker (Manny) who I just met last week is my new best friend. I know these are all things I can get certainly (over time) in Paris but they are familiar and comfortable and I love them.
The little 8 year old on Kid Nation said "I'm just too young for this I think" and left the show. I feel like the 15 year old who is completely comfortable on their own. I'm at the right age I think. I just dont want to sit around telling myself all this shit to "justify" this move. I get a slice of enjoyment telling people "Why not?" when they continually ask me "Why are you moving to Paris?". I don't really need a reason like a kid needs a reason to leave their school desk. I can just do whatever I want. And likewise, I will be responsible for my decisions no matter how they turn out.
In my mind, moving to Paris at 33 is LESS of a gamble than laying down $100 bucks on a roulette table. Its true.
I think this is stage 4 which I like to call "getting hungry". I placed the order hours ago, where is my FOOD!!!
***BUT I ASSURE YOU READERS, I THINK ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME*****
like today at 3:30pm on the way up the west side as I passed the crazy silver string bikini grandma who does ballet and tonight when I was watching the worst episode of greys anatomy ever...I thought, goodbye good television, goodbye stupid lady, I rode down the path (on skates) against the wind thinking of all the things I will be saying goodbye to. A friend recently said to me I would like living in Paris but I probably wont stay long at all. And he hardly knows me. We were friends back in Georgia but its been years. I wondered if he was just super intuitive and is basing that prediction on who I used to be or who I have become now (our current friendships exists soley online chatting). It wasn't supposed to bother me but it did.
I am scared about this move, YES. And I go through moments where I am so fucking scared, I cannot breathe. Then there are these incredible moments like earlier tonight when I was making my bed and thinking how excited I am for that moment when I say my first French sentence that a French person actually understands! And I get all googly. Incidentally I was also thinking that Google (the company) gets a LOT of play from me (several times per HOUR of each and every day) so perhaps the day I move, they could decorate their google logo in true FrancoAmericanoAnnaLisa!
Of course I also spend a bit of time, of course, dealing with the fact that this is not really happening to me and my flight to Paris will certainly end mid-ocean and plummet vertically to my ultimate death!. haha.
But the deal is, this is ALL about moving away from your comfort zone. The little things that you need to remind you that you are ok. For me, right now, its not a person, but its the island I live on, the familiar pier I spend every sunset on, the slimey man at the deli who makes my iced coffee just perfect, even the shoe maker (Manny) who I just met last week is my new best friend. I know these are all things I can get certainly (over time) in Paris but they are familiar and comfortable and I love them.
The little 8 year old on Kid Nation said "I'm just too young for this I think" and left the show. I feel like the 15 year old who is completely comfortable on their own. I'm at the right age I think. I just dont want to sit around telling myself all this shit to "justify" this move. I get a slice of enjoyment telling people "Why not?" when they continually ask me "Why are you moving to Paris?". I don't really need a reason like a kid needs a reason to leave their school desk. I can just do whatever I want. And likewise, I will be responsible for my decisions no matter how they turn out.
In my mind, moving to Paris at 33 is LESS of a gamble than laying down $100 bucks on a roulette table. Its true.
I think this is stage 4 which I like to call "getting hungry". I placed the order hours ago, where is my FOOD!!!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
NEVER go to Connecticutt
I really wanted to blog about the madness of my friends new relationship but i have been banned from it due to superstition management that, apparently, lasts forever.
However, I'm not banned from telling you to NEVER stay at a sheraton hotel even if the only other option is a campground with no running water. AND DO NOT let the pictures fool you. The big bright shiney indoor HEATED pool is merely an over-chlorinated bowl of half dead flies who can only do the backstroke in circles. AND if you think you can be a big loner in your room avoiding all human contact, you are dead wrong. the room service people are insane. I have recieved a grand total of 13 phone calls from them in the last two days for two meals, neither of which were even close to the quality of my duane reade ramen noodles 10/pack. I miss my noodles. I miss them so.
At this point I don't have any France updates except that my CRAZY cousin and his wife are BOOKED to visit me for Christmas!!!
Yes, i have no place to live, no xmas tree, and yet visitors are already on their way!!
ok maybe i should change the title to NEVER stay at a Sheraton, but I'm too lazy. of course it was laziness that put me here in the first place. I just had zero time to fully search out the scenario of coming here. And of course I had to work the entire trip around me doing the LEAST amount of driving possible. I simply cannot stand driving!! Mainly cause of the death situation. I love the:
Car
other people driving the car
other people driving me in the car
other people driving me in the car speeding and zipping
other people flying
training
biking
parachuting
water taxis
you name it
but I REFUSE to drive it.
and they gave me this GIANT luxury vehicle. i should be driving miss daisy in this damn thing, dont even ask me who makes it, but I requested a small car and this is like driving a house boat!
back to boredom
However, I'm not banned from telling you to NEVER stay at a sheraton hotel even if the only other option is a campground with no running water. AND DO NOT let the pictures fool you. The big bright shiney indoor HEATED pool is merely an over-chlorinated bowl of half dead flies who can only do the backstroke in circles. AND if you think you can be a big loner in your room avoiding all human contact, you are dead wrong. the room service people are insane. I have recieved a grand total of 13 phone calls from them in the last two days for two meals, neither of which were even close to the quality of my duane reade ramen noodles 10/pack. I miss my noodles. I miss them so.
At this point I don't have any France updates except that my CRAZY cousin and his wife are BOOKED to visit me for Christmas!!!
Yes, i have no place to live, no xmas tree, and yet visitors are already on their way!!
ok maybe i should change the title to NEVER stay at a Sheraton, but I'm too lazy. of course it was laziness that put me here in the first place. I just had zero time to fully search out the scenario of coming here. And of course I had to work the entire trip around me doing the LEAST amount of driving possible. I simply cannot stand driving!! Mainly cause of the death situation. I love the:
Car
other people driving the car
other people driving me in the car
other people driving me in the car speeding and zipping
other people flying
training
biking
parachuting
water taxis
you name it
but I REFUSE to drive it.
and they gave me this GIANT luxury vehicle. i should be driving miss daisy in this damn thing, dont even ask me who makes it, but I requested a small car and this is like driving a house boat!
back to boredom
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Flesh Light Friends
Somehow today I went from enjoying an egg white omelette to testing various hand scrubs around a tub, to looking down into the center of a GIGANTIC rubber anus. The demonstration "flesh light" which is a seriously big flash lite looking anus for male gay sex pleasure! Aside from the play on words, this thing is seriously like a giant anus flash light. As I starred in amazement, I couldnt help but picture the next emergency situation where I would think I'm reaching for a standard flash light to guide my way but instead, pick up the flesh light! And I assure you, there were definately no lights. It was as close to the real anus as possible.
My disgustingly cute gay boys were so excited by this, that they each bought one and raced home to try them out! haha. I will not describe the post flesh light experience phone call I recieved but I will say that being single really isn't that bad as long as you have giant flesh eating anus friends to keep things interesting!
Thanks boys! :)
My disgustingly cute gay boys were so excited by this, that they each bought one and raced home to try them out! haha. I will not describe the post flesh light experience phone call I recieved but I will say that being single really isn't that bad as long as you have giant flesh eating anus friends to keep things interesting!
Thanks boys! :)
Thursday, September 13, 2007
bleacher seat
When you are not dating, its fun to sit back and watch your single friends. I suppose I provide the same level of amusement to them during bouts of dating but right now I have a few exciting reports from the game.
Friend #1 - (who reads this so I'll be nice). A sordid past (and somewhat present), she spent way too long sleeping with a married man. And beyond the standard mistress role she played, it was clear to almost EVERYONE on earth that he clearly did not respect her and we could not wait for her to let go of the situation. well in comes the new potential man. TV would call him the core shaker. seems he has tapped into the "right time and right place" side of her life and its all smiles right now. The main observation which I am just LOVING is that, for a woman who loves sex, she has remained "chaste" (she has even been, apparently, dammed by a published virgin for her sex life) with this man despite the serial connection and amount of time spent with him! We, in the box office, are extremely proud of her current behavior and believe this new man, who is single and not without his own Louis Vuitton baggage, is great and currently treating her with the exact amount of respect she deserves! I always trusted she would find the right way, even if the path was laid with bombs and poison ivy.
Friend #2 - Extremely unhappily married. Getting divorced or separated very soon but still living together. There are a few young kids. And its been a good 12 years since she has been on a date. Clearly there is a lot to catch her up on. I have trouble keeping up with her "dating" life as it seems to be normal on the outside, a few dates here and there, dinners, drinks, etc, but then, when the liquor is flowing one nite, i learn she has found "love" but in the form of a "married man". and there is an ocean between them (a LARGE ocean) and so we have a triple decker complication. My advice: go get tested for every STD. If she plans on all this monkey business with people who have people, then she must get a baseline blood round of testing done. And she is so thankful for advice. She soaks it up. Then, in the midst of a dinner last week, with her, myself and various other people she brought together (she's a great net worker) including an apparent stranger off the street, the wine is a flowin and soon I am told in a loud whisper at the dinner table that a quazi threesome has taken place with her and some others at the table. I had to laugh. There really is no scenario that could shock me. Just the day before, another friend and I were reminiscing about the date she had with the man who had a surprise colostomy bag.
good times! so thank you friends, for the amusement and for the stories....and please dont hate me.
Friend #1 - (who reads this so I'll be nice). A sordid past (and somewhat present), she spent way too long sleeping with a married man. And beyond the standard mistress role she played, it was clear to almost EVERYONE on earth that he clearly did not respect her and we could not wait for her to let go of the situation. well in comes the new potential man. TV would call him the core shaker. seems he has tapped into the "right time and right place" side of her life and its all smiles right now. The main observation which I am just LOVING is that, for a woman who loves sex, she has remained "chaste" (she has even been, apparently, dammed by a published virgin for her sex life) with this man despite the serial connection and amount of time spent with him! We, in the box office, are extremely proud of her current behavior and believe this new man, who is single and not without his own Louis Vuitton baggage, is great and currently treating her with the exact amount of respect she deserves! I always trusted she would find the right way, even if the path was laid with bombs and poison ivy.
Friend #2 - Extremely unhappily married. Getting divorced or separated very soon but still living together. There are a few young kids. And its been a good 12 years since she has been on a date. Clearly there is a lot to catch her up on. I have trouble keeping up with her "dating" life as it seems to be normal on the outside, a few dates here and there, dinners, drinks, etc, but then, when the liquor is flowing one nite, i learn she has found "love" but in the form of a "married man". and there is an ocean between them (a LARGE ocean) and so we have a triple decker complication. My advice: go get tested for every STD. If she plans on all this monkey business with people who have people, then she must get a baseline blood round of testing done. And she is so thankful for advice. She soaks it up. Then, in the midst of a dinner last week, with her, myself and various other people she brought together (she's a great net worker) including an apparent stranger off the street, the wine is a flowin and soon I am told in a loud whisper at the dinner table that a quazi threesome has taken place with her and some others at the table. I had to laugh. There really is no scenario that could shock me. Just the day before, another friend and I were reminiscing about the date she had with the man who had a surprise colostomy bag.
good times! so thank you friends, for the amusement and for the stories....and please dont hate me.
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