Moving out of the darkness into the light

Depression cripples you… it’s like this dark secret you hide deep within, but it’s always there in the shadows lurking and pulling you back with a few whispers… “You’re worthless… you’ll never amount to anything… come back inside this shell with me… no one cares for you out there…you’re all alone!”

It always appears like a fog creeping in overnight and there is a crow making noise reminding you that you belong with them in the darkness… far from the light. The emptiness inside your soul, bones, mind and heart creates pools of tears at the drop of a hat to slide down your face…without notice, you’re pulled back into the abyss of familiarity that you once climbed far away from.

Yes…. I have a history of depression or just being sad…anxiety. Maybe it’s because we moved around so much in my childhood and I was always forced to reinvent myself, new friends, new life, and all during my high school years.

I remember my earliest memories in my early teens and my wanting to get lost in a sea of sleep. I just couldn’t get myself out of the feeling of melancholy and sadness that would overcome me like shackles…I carried the weight with me for years. Who knew then, that this would be a lifelong battle with periods of desperation and times that were so low, it’s miraculous that you made it out alive.

Well, my old nemesis that is Depression has shown its ugly head again over the past few years.

When things were not going well in my life, financial issues, when my apartment caught fire, or the ceiling caved in and I had to move quickly, or the time that I lost my love, or I was in so much pain that I ended up needing surgery on my spine…the other time I lost my love, plus the struggle of recovery to the time that I lost my job with no severance and lost my insurance 60 days post surgery. I’ve lost so much over the past few years…my house, jobs, pets, loves and have literally had to abandon things and walk away just enough to survive the flames called my life without getting burned up myself.

My challenges with depression have been a lifelong struggle. They go in waves, but lately and especially this year, it’s been severe with every hurdle, every path that I take is a journey on survival.

This was also why I went dark over the past few years and stopped writing… hiding the words and avoiding the voice inside me begging to come out.

There was a time that I wished that I would be able to fall asleep and wake up with all of this washed away. Then there are other times that would hold onto this like a long lost friend.

Lately, everything is better when it’s time to go to bed…I hate waking up and struggling with my plans for the day, reading my emails, applying for jobs, scheduling interviews, then seeing my bank account and knowing my best bet is to stay in bed.

My wish is to regain myself in 2018, get back to my core being, better health, heal my body, listen more, help more, be kinder, better, go to yoga more, date more, explore more, Love more and travel more. Let go of the things that are not serving me well and be more of a minimalist in some ways. Life isn’t about things…it about the moments.

Every day is a struggle, people are fighting silent battles all around you and in the end, try to be kind and be grateful for the people in your life that are there to help.

When you’re at you are feeling close to rock bottom, you’ll find out who your true support system is. These are The keepers… friends and family. Without them right now, I would be lost. I’m at my most vulnerable and am grateful every day that they haven’t given up on me yet.

I am so thankful that I have my family and friends in my life. With the holiday season upon us, they’re bringing in the light to my life right now.

Xx

Bad Gifts, The Christmas Spirit and What happens at a Holiday Party…stays there…right?

White Elephant, Chinese Christmas, Gag gift, re-gifting parties are always a great time…

I always wanted to be a “good-gifter”, since I know what being the victim of a bad gift feels like.

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In regards to gifts, as I was growing up I used to get the worst Christmas gifts and these continued into my adulthood from my grandparents or aunt.  Whatever it was, I usually received the pink one and my sister, the blue one.

Some of my favorite worst gifts were in my teenage years….

There was a strange flannel nightgown with little flowers all over it, and resembled something from, the TV show, “Little house on the prairie.”

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Another was white ceramic cat that had pink rabbit fur glued to it, always makes me laugh remembering opening these gifts and I’m sure that my face said it all.

I finally started putting their gifts to the side and allowing my sister to open them first. One year, my sister opened a ring gift box first and it was a beautiful opal setting and showing it to us. I’m thinking… could they have possibly gotten this right? Then, I open my ring box to see a pearl ring. You’re thinking, wow…that is a nice gift, right? Yeah, well…my pearl was the size of an eyeball. It was something out of a costume bin or a gumball machine and it was hilarious, probably not to me at the time, but I did love showing it to people as they looked horrified.

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As I got older, the gifts became more awkward.

When I was in my 30’s, I will never forget that I received a package of what appeared to be underwear. I thought that was odd enough, but this was a leopard print netting mesh panty set with top. Umm….. Ok. What the hell is this?  Did they send me a nighty?

Odd thing about it, was that they didn’t have a crotch?! My grandmother sent me crotch less panties?? I gave these to goodwill with a laugh wondering who would buy them at Goodwill.

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Then, another year, I received a strange lamp that I recall re-gifting and taking to a White Elephant gift exchange party… If I recall, someone actually fought over the ugly lamp. It was a crazy leopard lampshade thing.

Another time, my two close guy friends in high school once bought me a sweater for Christmas. It was “hands down” the ugliest sweater that I have ever owned.  I recall that it was a blend of light brown, teal, purple, & black that I’d ever seen. However, since they were so proud of it, I had to act like I loved it and also wear it.

Then, I have had boyfriends give me some crazy things as well, some of which I wondered who they were shopping for when I opened them. Awful earrings, one gave me, I recall Christmas morning opening them and being so disappointed.  There were so many funny gifts, one guy I dated bought me a DVD once, and I was like, “What is this? Who buys me a $10 DVD?” and I think that I’d bought him the DVD player. Umm, typical of my dating life… When it comes to gifts from people you are dating, I have learned that it’s better to just tell them what to buy you.

In my family, we always have a tradition on Christmas Eve with our friends to have a “White Elephant” party. They are generally awfully funny gifts that we intentionally buy for laughter, shock value and are usually hilarious. I must explain that this is one of the best events all year long, as we plan and prepare for this sometimes months in advance. While others show up with something normal or without a gift at all, the original members of the family tradition and friends always show up prepared for fun. My mother always has an extra gift or two wrapped, just incase someone shows up unprepared.

The funniest part about these parties is when someone new comes and they bring a nice gift and don’t necessarily understand the concept of a “gag gift” and bring something good, that you would actually want, yet they receive one of the funnier gifts.

I’ve seen the likes of a gift bag containing Peanut Butter, Jelly and a loaf of bread, singing stuffed animals, sexy toys, literally jingle bells men’s jock straps, and one year there was the set of men’s thongs that were furry and looked like Rudolph the red nosed reindeer with bells and all, bottles of booze, children’s toys, some of my favorites were from the “As Seen On TV” aisle or the Infomercial gifts. I think that I still have the “Shake Weight” somewhere around here…it’s that arm weight dumb bell thing, that looks like you’re doing something sexual jerking your arms up and down to tone them.

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Others were Chia Pets, The Clapper, Flow bee, the thigh master, and such.  The funnier part of these gifts is that some are so funny that they’re recycled year after year…like the infamous “Hank Williams” that sung and after a few years, he was finally retired.

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I personally favored the booze gifts; however, as I was always traveling, I was unable to take the bottles on the plane, so it always seemed like we were trying to drink it down before I flew home.

So, as I prepared to go to another party like this a few years ago, I found the classic gift to bring…The neck massager. It was perfectly perverse, as you could imagine it was shaped like a “C” and a woman could actually sit on it for vibration. I think to myself, wow… this is perfect. Under $15 and will be a classic terrible gift. My friend that I was going with said that they understood the concept and wrapped a gift in a bag and away we go.

The party gets along with a lot of drinking, booze, there is some food…we’re all having a blast, they even have karaoke set up in the living room…after an hour or two, it’s time for the gift exchange. By now, we’re all too drunk to understand some of the rule’s, or they’re being made up as we go.

So, the game begins, people are picking, swapping gifts, there is a bottle of booze, a pocket vibrator with some lubricant in a stocking…it’s hilarious, someone opens a red velvet thong set for a man with white trim and yes, it’s fought over…next thing you know my friend grabs it and is running around with these over his jeans.

santa thong

Finally, someone picks my neck massager, it’s an immediate hit, it’s immediately being ridden like a bull, and the rest of the party was a blur as I think that neither of us ended up parting with any of them…but woke up with a terrible hangover and calling each other trying to recap the night.

Later that afternoon, I open my purse to find something and find the Santa inspired men’s thong and a pocket rocket vibrator..hahaha and I laugh to myself… I finally left with the good gift!! How in the hell did these get here? I can’t wait to re-gift these again…the thong, not the vibrator.

Then, I find a video on my phone of my friends singing, “Hit me with your best shot!” ….One wearing the Santa thong, another in a green velvet jingle bells thong, and the third figured out how to straddle the neck massager and connect it to them…as he is holding a male blow up doll.

karaoke girl

My friend later admits that he found the blow up doll in his entry of his apartment and had also pissed himself and vomited somewhere, as there were evidence on his clothes, along with a bag from Mc Donalds…we laughed so hard about him walking passed his doorman with that bag of food and a blow up man doll.

blowup doll

He never told me what he did with it, and I erased that video, as I never wanted to view it again…it was THAT bad.

This was such a fun night.

Classic Christmas tale.

Chinatown & The Happy Ending…

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I should have known this was going to be a strange day….any day in New York City can turn into an adventure quickly…New York City is a bitch, but I love it.

As I stand waiting on the platform, I notice the train schedule time is not changing frequently, it’s actually saying 2 minutes, but it’s now been 5 minutes and the time is now going up. There is a strange amount of traffic walking into the subway platform, which is a bit concerning to see it filling up so fast, with no relief of a train…meanwhile, we hear a muffled message about local trains being delayed downtown. This is when simultaneously, two older men, one to my left and one to my right start screaming obscenities about the costs of the subway and the “God Damned Delay’s!! We pay money for this shitty service!” one screamed, while the other screamed, “God Damn It! I got delayed 3 times yesterday on the fucking bus!! What the hell is wrong with the MTA!?!?” and he throws his paper into the subway tracks. Note to self, do not sit next to these men.

crowded subway

Meanwhile, I am monitoring the platform fill up more and more and wait patiently for the train.  It finally arrives and to my surprise, it’s not a normal 6 train with the blue newer seats…it’s one of the older subways that runs on the west side with the brown panels and orange and yellow seating, no electronic messaging or notification of the times, delays, or next stops…which means that the speaker system is not the best either. I think, “Shit, what in the hell am I doing on this train!?”

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As we finally get moving, the conductor tells us that we are now running express from 42nd to Brooklyn Bridge due to an accident at 33rd. Then, we get another message as we are being held again that there is now “No Service below 42nd on the 4, 5, or 6 trains and the train is being re-routed for uptown when we get to Grand Central!” WTF! I think to myself, “Damn…it must be a jumper”…and exit at Grand Central. I call my friend that I am meeting for lunch and tell her I’m delayed and walking there…meet me in 30 minutes, as I have to walk there.

I walk west across Bryant Park to head south to Eataly to meet my friend for lunch, when I finally make it there, this place is so fucking crowded with tourists and she is nowhere in sight. I text her and she says that, “she cannot talk now, but will call/text soon?!” WTF?!  Today has been a complete shit show…I need a drink.

When she arrives, we have a bit of a wait for the table, then I order my food with a huge glass of wine, then another.

At this point, I’m being grilled by her on the trade secrets of dating in the United States, well specifically in New York City, as she is from the Philippines.

I’m like, “well… It’s difficult to meet people at our age, let alone date.” At this point in my life, I settle for a good book, a hot bath and a bottle of wine most weekends.  However, she knows that I have been actively dating and have been in relationships, as the 2 times that we have both met and gone out, I have been involved with men. Yes, the only 2 men that I have been with in over a year happened to be timed right around the same time that she has been visiting in the New York City area.

She asks way too many questions. At some point, I tell her this. As she asks me more questions, I am reminded of needing another glass of wine. Yes, if they could pour the entire damned bottle in my glass, I’d be happy at this point.

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The constant grilling of questions is reminding me of an interview and quite exhausting. Especially, when I cannot seem to figure out the “code to dating in NYC, let alone in America.”

I have been really good at being single most of my adult life. I could be voted off the island for this, I presume. One of my guy friends, recently told me that he needed to start lying to people about being “divorced” now, as people look at him funny because he’s in his 40’s and has never been married, let alone engaged. It’s sad because I can definitely relate to his dilemma, as I’m in the same category.

After lunch, we walk down the Highline, through the West Village, The Village, and Soho and to Chinatown, where she wants to buy me a Bubble tea and the plan is for us to get cheap massages. After walking 8-10 miles today…

I think to myself…”A massage does sound nice.” In my mind, I’m thinking spa…this is where that phrase, “Little did you know” comes into play. Let the fun begin.

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We walk down Canal Street, and then we wind through the back alleys of Chinatown that I have never explored before. Imagine a fucked up maze of tiny streets with bright neon signs for massage parlors that are lit up and you know, they don’t look very clean, nor do they look very legitimate. My inner American girl that grew up in a middle class, southern/midwest family is screaming, “What the hell are you doing here!?! GO HOME!” However, she’s leading us deeper into the evasive maze and says that she always goes here when she is in New York. So, I let her lead the way.

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As we wind through the streets, we pass many massage parlors, nail salons, hair salons and etc. all on the left side of the narrow street.

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Then, we go into the smallest, thinnest store front with some strange writing on the wall and a fake rose bush on a table to the left of the hallway with a bright massage menu that I glimpse at as my friend is barking commands to the man and ladies in waiting area, that are greeting us as we walk in. The people that work here do not speak much English; they speak some words, but nod a lot; they smile and bow.

My friend seems to raise her voice louder to them acting like it makes them understand her more, since her voice is raised…this reminds me of something my mother would do and I laugh to myself.

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The girls that work here are dressed in a strange “dirty” girl kind of looking way, maybe it’s to entertain the big, older gentleman that I just saw dive into one of the stalls with a younger girl for a “massage”.

The area that you walk in has some strange pleather sofa’s to the right, then you walk through a doorway with beads, yeah beads like the 70’s draping down to a darker area with red lighting and there are strange curtains hanging up on both sides of the room separating the massage tables, I guess.

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They point me to one on the right. Mind you, it’s fucking freezing outside, so I have got a huge puffy coat, pants, sweaters, boots and etc. on and have a huge bubble tea in my hand. I walk beyond the curtain to undress and the space is obviously where they store crap, as the massage table is pushed up at the end against a small sofa with big bags all over it and shit everywhere. The massage table is so close to the curtain, that my legs hang out of it into the middle of the walkway and hands keep coming through the curtain as I undress. I place my belongings at the end of the massage table on the sofa with the other junk. The area around the table is about 6-12 inches from the wall/curtains on all sides. I finally get down to my panties and think, “Damn, whoever is massaging me must be in the Circus, as they’re going to have to trapeze into this tiny area and hang on strings to get around me to massage me! What in the hell did I agree to?!?”

Then, as I lay there practically naked, someone comes into the area around the sheet and for all that I know, my arse is possibly able to be viewed by anyone in the walk way. I’m trying to relax enough to enjoy a $40 hour full body massage.  Someone starts rubbing my back and maneuvering around the table…I’m a ball of pins & needles and I cannot relax.

In my mind, I’m thinking…”What the fuck am I doing here!? Only $40? Am I still in New York? This place is scaring the crap out of me…are these people legal? Are they slave labor? Is that grunting that I’m hearing in the other stall? For fucks sake, what have I agreed to?!”

Then, my concentration is broken by my friend yelling in the opposite stall that she needs someone new. Well, that meant that the person that she didn’t want was then exchanged with the person that I had at present, so they swapped.

Then, I get a woman…the only reason that I knew this is because she has her hair down and keeps draping it over my back as she rubs my shoulders and at some point, she directs me in a movement.Wait a minute, is there a monkey in here, someone just hoisted themselves on the table with me! What in the hell just happened?

Meanwhile, a man interrupts the massage through the curtains to ask me, “HOW LONG YOU NEED ONE HOUR?”  I reply, “Sure, whatever my friend has agreed to!” This was a strange reply that they did not understand, so they keep sending people over to ask in different ways, so I finally reply, “Yes. One Hour!” What am I doing here?

I’m being rubbed, groped, pushed and pulled all over my body and she is pulling down my panties and accidentally touching me in areas that she should not be that close to, so I keep shifting by body around the table and moving my head. Let’s just be clear, I am not here for any happy ending folks, nor do I care to get massaged in my nether region by a chick for cash. What in the hell is going on here?

After my massage is finally finished, I am shuffled out to the seating area on the pleather sofas with the strange Chinese woman that gave me the massage.She keeps showing me her hand and making a face. Apparently, she has been doing so many massages that she has injured her hand and She tells me, “You pay my boss! You pay my boss!” and then goes, “You tip me?!”

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So, I hand her a $20, and she hides it after looking around in both directions, then I sit and check my phone, foursquare, face book and wait for my friend to return and finish while listening to strange music on the sofa with this woman, while she puts on makeup and primps for the next person to enter the parlor.

As I sit there, I wonder about the big man that I saw going behind the curtain with the other young girl when we walked in, what in the hell kind of service is he getting? As, I started after and had an hour massage and I’ve been sitting here over 30 minutes now… Is this place a brothel too? Is he getting a happy ending? Gross.

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Once my friend finally comes out, she doesn’t stop there with the body massage, she has the owner giving her a 10 minute foot massage and her feet are on an ottoman, as he gets on his knees in front of her rubbing. She tells him that I need one and tells me that it’s included, I opt out, as it seems completely demeaning at this point, plus I’m ready to get the hell out of this place in fear that some authority will come in and bust it up at any moment.  I make an excuse, “that I don’t want to take off my boots again.”

After her massage, we walk through the streets and wind back to the main streets and get back to Mott Street to modern day civilization. This is when we determine that we should get some food for dinner.

We see people standing in line for dumplings and dim sum and opt for another szechuan restaurant that looks pretty popular. Again, I need to explain that I am American, now this means that I’m somewhat adventurous, but only to an extent and fish is a touchy food item for me. I love sushi, love sashimi and I love meat, but mine comes in pretty pieces, in packages in the store and etc. I think you understand.

My friend keeps asking about sharing food and I tell her that I’ll just order something, as I’m funny about eating fish. I look at the menu and it’s huge…opt for spring roll’s, something similar to Kung Pao Chicken and she orders some fish dish and other dishes.  She refers to me as such an “American”, and I think to myself, “Why yes, I am.” And I tell her about the time that someone tried slipping me some catfish to eat 20 years earlier and how upset that I was.

The spring rolls come, Dumplings come, I eat them too, then the Kung Pao dish, and I’m eating some green beans that she has ordered to share and it’s a huge plate. At this time, I have no idea what is about to happen. This little waiter comes with a HUGE platter with a WHOLE FISH ON IT and puts it in front of me, in between the two of us. Then, she looks at me and says, “Dig In!”

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My face must have said it all…the waiter cut it in the middle exposing the bones everywhere and leaves it. She asked for Soy Sauce and rips into the fish like she’s never eaten before.

First thing she eats is the entire head, face, eyes and all with soy sauce, as I watch wondering about the bones, eyes and lips…then, eats the fins and explains that in Asia, this would be something that is fought over first in a meal.

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Meanwhile, she is asking me if I want some. I reiterate that I’m funny about certain foods…fish, being one of them and the fact that she just ate the entire face off the fish…it’s messing with my appetite. You see, I’ve realized that American’s, or at the least, this one, we do not like to eat things that look back at us on the plate. I explain this to her as well, then as she goes back into the banter of asking questions about dating American & men in New York City while devouring the remainder of the fish. I am thinking to myself, I wonder if any of the men that I know and have dated would react well to someone eating a whole fish in front of them, let alone the head first. After we are finished, she had the server package up the remaining food, both the fish and the food that I had not eaten to take home with her.

This evening was good, but a very strange adventure in New York City…. When I got home, I seriously scrubbed my entire body clean in the shower to ensure that I was clean before getting into my bed for the night.

As I’m dying for another massage, I’m still not tempted to return to this land of the happy ending.

Dating….What you allow will continue…

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The initial date started as him being late, come to think of it, he was always late in meeting me… I was always waiting for him, and this should have been a sign. I know that I mention signs on occasion, but seriously….listen to your intuition, it’s usually right. So, we meet at a pub for a few beer’s, he with his Guinness and myself with a Smithwick’s, and I’m fresh off of being lied, cheated and in hopes of finding love in the city of NYC.

I am waiting there for him, text him with the details on where I’m seated, and I’ve already ordered a drink and have some while waiting for his arrival. In the time of waiting, I’m people watching and whoosh… a man comes in to my left and introduces himself to me… he’s in a blue suit, looks a little older or more mature, but is handsome in his mannerisms and personality in a cute boyish way and is seated a distance from me, but the way that he looks at me is sweet. He’s very happy and says that I look amazing, fantastic and much better than I do in my photos. He’s caught off guard and immediately, he shows me his work pass, id badge and tells me his surname. (Does this man know that was on my initial list to find out? Or is this Kismet/coincidence, or what?). We enjoy a few drinks, then, he excuses himself to call his daughter and returns to ask to sit on the bench beside me. It’s a sweet gesture, he’s taller than me by a bit and seems more boyish as the evening goes on… the British accent is adorable, but he’s been departed from his homeland since college and no longer refers to that as his home, he explains.

We end up going to a another location, share some food, more drinks and he managed to place his hand on my leg… at which time, I ask, “Do you think that it’s appropriate to have your hand on my leg when it’s our first date and we’ve just met?” He in turn laugh’s and makes a joke and removes his hand, but does anything to touch me playfully the entire evening. Since it was a work night, I ended it after feeling too tipsy and before rushing into a taxi, we kiss… he’s minty and I ask if he’s brushed his teeth between the restroom and street… he laughs and kisses me again.

It was a good date, but I was still unsure. On my way to work in the morning on Metro North, I receive multiple texts, emails and a LinkedIn invitation…which gave me full access to everything about this man… where he went to school, worked, real name and etc. Umm, did he know that I would be looking for this eventually, after that last experience? Maybe he was psychic. I was still hesitant, but after telling my coworkers about him…they urged me to see him again, stating that he seemed like a genuine guy and a good catch. We ended up texting a few times over the weekend, at one point, he replied sharply and I didn’t take it well. I had determined to write him off, but then on Sunday…he texted me after Pilates wanting to know if I’d like to meet for a coffee or walk or both, as his flight is now later in the evening and would like to see me.

I agreed. We met on the corner of W 23rd/6th, grabbed coffee and walked the Highline and talked. We walked the entire length down to the Meatpacking area, and then back to Chelsea and little did I know back to his apartment… where we had a beer on his rooftop and talked overlooking the river and the city. This was when I can remember looking at him and thinking, “I want to spend time with this man… Uh oh!?”

Our date was amazing, we grabbed another bite to eat, beer, sat in a pub talking before walking back to his high-rise and placing me in a taxi, where he kissed me, then returned 3 times to kiss me before heading to his apartment to catch his car service to the airport. He texted me that he had a great time… I was giddy with excitement… Had I just met a real guy, capable of a relationship? Visions of dates and kissing dancing through my head…

We continued to text, he sent me emails as well… flirting and were pretty cute. He started telling me that he missed me…

Over the next few weeks, he traveled quite a bit, and I had a friend in town, he was back/forth traveling to see his daughter and we were never able to see one another. Without seeing each other, things get funny, especially at the beginning of something. I didn’t know if I was expected to remain committed to him, but did. I removed my online dating profile, but he didn’t. He told me to keep it active, as he was “confident” and it did not bother him. Then, Hurricane Sandy came and went, distance between email’s grew, and then…replies to email’s went silent…

Well, he finally came back around Thanksgiving, but told me that he was “thinking” and not sure about everything and he’s gotten alarmed about an email that I sent to him seeming insecure about where things stood. I got a text from him on Thanksgiving, invited him over, and he said I’d hear from him later…and never got a reply. It was over, I’d come to the conclusion.

He then, sent me a text/email and told me that things were not over, he had just required some time to think about everything and was heading to see his daughter for the weekend and would be in touch Sunday. Sunday about 5pm, I received a text telling me that, “Apparently, my online dating profile was still active, so GOOD LUCK, Dear!” WTH! WTF? It was active because he has told me to keep it active, I haven’t seen this man in almost 2 months, this is insane. Were we committed?

At this point, I should’ve been committed to therapy and stopped dating all men until I was in a better place. I concluded that dating was over. Removed my online dating profile, picked up, flew to Florida for a girls weekend of laughter, tears and so much drinking…of course, I told my friends about this bastard that I’d met and what had happened, and they did what all normal friends would do, tell me to move on, he’s missing out, not worth it and it’s ridiculous how he had just cut off communication… maybe he had someone else and the travel wasn’t real. Well, at the least, it was just a few kisses, hand holding, but why all of the email’s and text’s? Odd.

The ironic thing is that Saturday night, I received a text from him asking me, “What are you doing?”. I replied that I was in Florida and he told me to have a good weekend and safe trip. WTF?

We exchanged the occasional text, email and over Christmas, “Merry Christmas!” The new year brought in new hope and he’d emailed me a few times flirting, but no actions…by February, we had decided that we will try this again. We saw one another more frequently, flirted, emailed as he traveled and texted. By my birthday in March, he sat with me at a bar telling me, “I more than like you and I can see myself proposing to you sooner than later.”, He asked to meet my parents, asked me to go on a long weekend with him, and I was grinning ear to ear in Lalaland, then he told me that he was going on a trip and would return in a week or so and would be in touch.

HIS EMAIL:

When he finally returned and sends me an email saying, “Safe yes, but the Organization I work for is moving me to Geneva and then Mali for a year. They apparently packed and moved my apartment contents to Organization’s storage yesterday:( –

I hope that they didn’t find anything dodgy!!! Lol

I will be leaving NYC officially on April 12th (night flight). Until then I will be in a company apartment in Tudor city. When I have seen how ‘glamorous’ it is then I may invite you over!

How is your week?”

 ME: 

Ummm…. WTF!?!

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking…at the time, I was too far in that I fell for it. I never heard from him again, but to receive an email that he was settling things and would be in touch when timing was better.

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A month later, I am still hurt, and decide that things just don’t add up…I was going through some personal health issues, so my clarity wasn’t the best and I decided to write down a list, go with my gut instincts that I had been ignoring for so long and low and behold, I found his profile posted on the same dating site that I had met him on, but with a new user name.

Of course,  being the pissed off one, I sat on it, stewed and sent him an email letting him know that I’d seen this, and confronted him of what a shit move this was. Coward. He said he was only home 5 days/month and didn’t know what he was doing… blah, blah… I was hurt, I was defensive and not very nice in my replies, but wished him well.

About a month later, I calmed down… and saw him again. Mistake. Now, this was just fucking dumb girl, hurting and missing someone. He came over, told me that he’d missed me, apologized, and we kept in touch, half in always, and then half out…. Saw him again… conversations were fine, but there were signs the entire time that he was lying to me the entire time. I truly believe this man was also married with a family elsewhere, or a wife, girlfriend elsewhere…eventually, after strong communications and my telling him to not come back into my life again unless he was sincere as I couldn’t do this anymore…. He came back again emailing me in September, then…. Disappeared for good this time, even removed me from his social media and with no explanation. My intuition tells me that someone found out about me somehow, he was committed to someone else and only having fun with me, or trying to steal time with me…. I will never know. This man lied to me so many times and had I not been in a tough place health wise, stress wise and had the clarity to see him for what he was, I wouldn’t have allowed him to keep playing hokey pokey with my heart. Remember… “What you allow….is What will continue.”

He’s walked away from my life and was not a blessing, but a huge lesson. I told him once before….

It’s like the saying… “Nothing ever goes away until it teaches us what we need to know.” The truth is, he didn’t give a damn about me and I never should have put so much belief in everything that he said.

Whatever Karma that he taught me for something that I did, it’s been dealt with. I just wish that he never would have come back into my life again to only have shredded every sense of faith that I had in finding someone.

You know, people don’t always remember the words that people say, but they will always remember the way that you made them feel and he made me feel lower than low more times than not.

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That what does not kill us makes us stronger…You’re a lesson or a blessing, blah, blah, blah… bullshit. You get my point. On the bright side, he didn’t stifle my growth… I did learn a lot from him and will never allow anyone to come into my life again and just start spewing madness like this. Unless their actions match their words, I will not concede to them. I love that I was able to trust again, I did adore him, when we were together, we got along so well, the way he looked at me was so sweet and his smile matched, but in the end, his actions never matched his words. I don’t blame him for everything, but I think that moving forward when looking for love, you need to go all in, but bring your brain with you and be careful who you trust and who you give your heart to. People should earn this right to be so valuable in your life…it shouldn’t just be given freely. I wish him the best in life, but have said my peace with it. He broke not only my heart, but my spirit. I did love him though and still do.

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Let the Dating games begin…In the game, “Pin the tail on the Donkey.. Who is the Ass?”

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After a grueling few months of work, no dating, a 10 day holiday with my mother… I decided to put myself back out there on the market… not the job market, the dating market…

Do you remember playing, “Pin the tail on the Donkey” as a kid?  Online dating is kind of like that, but imagine a blend of Craigslist.com, Amazon.com & EBay.com without the review’s and it is a crapshoot on the photos.

My online dating rules  of mine have always been:

  1. They MUST have more than one photo. No excuses.
  2. Body shot photos are an automatic disqualification
  3. They must be local, must text, speak with and meet in a timely manner in a public place.
  4. People looking for pen pals or wanting to immediately send you dirty photos are automatically deleted/blocked.

So, I managed to post my profile, and the process begins… I get contacted by a guy who lives in NY, is within a few years of my age, yet younger, has 3 photos posted and seems cute. One of the photos is of his body clothed with a dog. We exchange emails, chat, text, and we even speak on the phone before he asked me out on a Friday night to meet. His name is Rob.

So, I end up meeting Rob at a local bar on my street, when I walk there.. I’m nervous because I hope that I will recognize him upon sight. Wishing for the best, I was walking up and I see a cute blonde guy smoking out front and he sees me, but doesn’t say anything…(damn). I keep walking into the long, dark bar and out of nowhere a guy that I never would’ve recognized as the guy in the photo. He greets me with a huge hug and “Hello Heather! ”Can I get you a drink?” Umm…WTF? Who is the guy in front of me?!

I’m still stifled and sitting there taking it all in, ask for a beer and staring at him trying to find a resemblance to the photo’s in the online dating ad. It’s not that he’s unattractive, but he’s not the same guy..Or the photos are old or something. He’s about 6ft tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, fit, and funny…he is telling me jokes and we start people watching because there is Karaoke at the bar where we meet and people are drunk, dancing everywhere, and it’s something of a show to watch. Hilarious…I finally let my guard down, but trying to figure out if I can leave.. There is no way out without getting by him. I cannot even go to the restroom and escape.. Ugh. I’m going with the attitude that, “I’m going to make the most of it!”….. “GO ALL IN or GO HOME!” and I couldn’t go home.. So, the adventure begins with Rob.

The evening ended up going really well, we actually ended up having a great time, he managed to talk his way back to my apartment and after much wine and conversation… slept over…ummm, yeah.. That too.

I woke up to having a man cuddling with me, kissing on me and asking me to lunch. I took his hand, kissed him back, and accepted his lunch invitation.

Let the games begin… In the game, “Pin the tail on the Donkey.. Who is the Ass?”

Winter brings…the Needy and the Angry

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So….I’m back to the beginning again… No longer a tourist, or a commuting traveler to the city weekly for business….as you guess, I am now living in New York City. My company managed to relocate me to New York City from St. Louis, Missouri in early 2011. Prior to this, I lived in my own home, then a great loft in Soulard (St. Louis), then half in a room with a Hoarder in New York City, then to a studio apartment on the Upper East Side that is no more than 400sq. feet, yet costs in rent way more than my mortgage and more than double the rent of the large loft in St. Louis.. Yeah, but I’m living in the Big Apple, this is the place where people tell you that your apartment size doesn’t matter because the point is never to stay home and to take advantage of what this incredible city has to offer and get out.. “Your apartment is only an extension of your closet!”… I always loved that explanation and, yes… I’ve used it myself…several times.

I’ve gone a few months since the Producer left the stage and decided that it was time to try to attempt dating again in New York City…

In comes the young, determined, bright Attorney on the rise… he was a nice kid, yeah… kid. We had almost 8 years between us and he was quite tall, handsome, nervous with me and out to impress. I’ll never forget when we met at an old Speakeasy in Soho that was serving specialty cocktails… we sat across one another talking… learning about one another…he was delighted when I walked in and commented that I appeared so much better in person.. He couldn’t get close, because he was seated across the table…so, as the night progressed, he managed to get me to try multiple special cocktails, and then talk me into going to grab dinner…where he couldn’t wait to kiss me. He was a nice guy, and we had a great night, but the fact that he lived in New Jersey, and was too young for me was a deal breaker. I never saw him again, but he called and etc. a few times… it just faded away…
I managed to keep up the dating circuit and managed to meet the “Angry” guy…This guy was a special case, we met in person, very curt, to the point after Thanksgiving… we talked like in an interview, he was attractive, we shared a pizza, ordered drinks… he wanted to “share” a drink. Now, one thing that you need to know about me is that, “I’m not one that like’s to share food, drinks or much of anything else”.

This was odd..”Let’s share a margarita?” After all, we were at an Italian restaurant in the Union Square area and I’d been drinking red wine? Who wouldn’t think a Margarita was a beverage of choice in an Italian establishment. In addition, Who shares a Margarita? We aren’t girlfriends..There were some red flags in the evening, like we had to pay with a cashier, I had my own check and well, he paid for a few items, the sharing of a drink, I understand sharing a pizza, but a drink? Then, he proceeded to ask me to come over Sunday to watch a football game at his place and he would cook us dinner and etc. somewhere in Hoboken, New Jersey. Hmm…. I’ve never been there… how bad can it be?!?

Sunday comes around and almost 2 hours later, I make it to the frosty pier of the Path train and am wondering the streets of Hoboken looking for this guy’s apartment… I hadn’t eaten because I was going to eat at his place… or so, I thought.

So, I get there… he doesn’t text me…or answer the phone, I’m lost. After waiting on a street corner in the cold December afternoon, he finally calls and directs me to where he lives… He lives in a small apartment, not much furniture… very guy like.

When I ask about food, he hands me a beer and told me that he has bought an “eggplant?” to cook for us. Then, I ask if he has a recipe. And it goes downhill from here… He managed to sift through dirty spices, an old pan and attempt to cut up and fry pieces of eggplant that were heavily seeded, sour and oil soaked in awful…. Meanwhile, I scream as I see 2 Mice walk across his apartment into his bedroom. At this time, he yelled at me like I was in the wrong for being alarmed with the rodents running across the room…as if this was normal. Hmm….

Considering that I had a 2 hour commute back home, the place was infested with rodents, I was starving and it was a school night, I managed to leave Hoboken unscathed, starving and got home… never to see either Hoboken or that guy ever again. He remained in touch, kept calling, emailing texting until I ultimately asked him to lose my number and never contact me again. As the temper got even worse and I unknowingly found out that no one in his family spoke with him, he lost his job and didn’t see why he was being shunned with his behavior….very bizarre. When I had tried to advise him of the situation in a different light, I was privy to see his other half… Mr. Hyde… The Angry fella that he erupted into quickly. He verbally assaulted me and that was it.

He managed to send me crazy texts 6-8 months later, even called me a year later and wanted to speak with me… needless to say, I replied nicely, but did not re-engage any conversations as he’d tried to attempt. He was nuts.

The Producer… aka Broadway…or Hollywood…

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So, my initiation to dating in New York City was not the typical transition, I aimed high in the Big city with Bright Lights… I landed a Broadway Producer to charm the pants off of me… literally.

As all good things must come to an end, we had our ups and downs… months of texts, stolen phone calls, and then he would just “appear” in NYCity and expect me to come running, drop everything.. see him between interviews with journalist’s, show’s and etc. You see, it was doomed from the beginning, as we lived in different dimensions.. I, the girl with the 9-5 job and he didn’t generally start his day until later, and then wouldn’t get out until after midnight. We met in dark corners of hotel bars, lounges, dinners in amazing places, I have seen the most amazing hotel’s in NYCity and most of his room’s had bigger bathroom’s than my entire apartment. Now, I know what it sounds like, but we also met for coffee and yes, he came to my tiny studio on Sunday morning one time pleading with me to stay in his life.

The last time that I saw him, he came to my place, we had an amazing talk, great evening together before he had to fly back to London… and I woke up to a note saying that he would be back in New York City in 3 weeks and would like to have dinner with me.. someplace “nice” xxx. Three weeks turned into months….

He managed to text me over the holidays simple smiley faces, or “xoxo, xxx” and etc.

I never saw him again, but I occasionally receive text messages. He’s now a very successful movie producer.

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