Random Thoughts

Its 11pm on a weeknight. Normally at this time of night I’m snug in my bed, having just finished watching Keith Oberman and having seen who the day’s “worst persons” are, am ready to drift off to sleep.  But instead, for the second day in a row I have missed Keith, I don’t know who the “worst persons” are -although I can assume “Billo” is on the list and that makes me feel a little better. Instead of being in bed, I’m eating my dinner of cereal and writing a blog about random things while I wait for my cupcake from Cake Love to get to room temperature so I can eat it. Tonight I had a board meeting and I missed dinner (hence the 11pm cereal/cupcakes) and as my mind wandered to various topics in an attempt to distract myself from my headache, I remembered I had an update on my coffee house stalker. And then decided I was just in the mood to write a blog of random thoughts. Probably not interesting to anyone but me, but that’s ultimately what really matters

So my coffee shop stalker came into the same coffee shop and looked at me, but didn’t acknowledge me in any specific way. But he sat down at a table near me and started to get a lesson in how to go on-line. The way he was sitting I was able to see the screen of the laptop and hear some of what his teacher was saying and he was getting a very basic tutorial in how to check email and surf the web. This is only significant/amusing because the theme of our conversations revolved around his fascination with me using a laptop and assuming I was really smart because I was using a computer.

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I’ve started having a recurring dream where I’m pouring milk into a bowl of cereal and the milk has gone bad. The dream is in color and I very clearly see the chunks of curdled milk falling into my cereal. And then for unfathomable reasons, I proceed to scoop a spoon full of cereal and curdled milk and prepare to eat it, but I always wake up right before it gets to my mouth. Like the culinary equivalent of the “falling” dream.

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I was in a coffee shop in an “emerging neighborhood” this afternoon, and its one of those real trendy, neighborhood coffee shops where everyone talks to each other and you share tables with people you don’t know and its all very friendly and nice. I don’t go there very often. But today I was in this back room that is set up like a living room and has a TV and this young woman walked in and didn’t do the normal hesitation at the door before deciding to share the coach with me (this is perhaps the one area of the coffee shop that is less community oriented b/c it’s couches and chairs and low tables instead of the normal tables and chairs). But so she just walks in with her head down, doesn’t so much as glance up at me as she walks in. It was as if she knew I was in there and had decided to pretend I wasn’t, which is impossible b/c you can’t see who is in this room until you’re inside it. She sits down next to me, and I make a show of cleaning up detritus which has drifted beyond my immediate space. Normal response is to smile acknowledgement, or in this coffee shop to say something like “oh don’t worry about,” or “You’re fine. Really.” From her, nothing. So she gets on her computer and apparently checks her email and the next thing I know she’s on her cell phone. Its a small room. I admit that cell phone/coffee shop etiquette is a little unclear, but generally you don’t get on the phone when you are sitting 2 feet from a stranger. And if you do have to be on the phone, its usually a short, impersonal conversation. Not her. She was calling her mom to tell her that she was just hired to do the illustrations for a dress designer’s book. She’s excited. Really excited. Just so…excited. Really. And she wants mom to tell dad that she CAN make a living as an artist. (Although later in the conversation it comes out that she’s going to make about $8-10/hr, so “making a living” might be overstating it.) I then find out that she doesn’t have a key for her mailbox at her new apartment yet, and they returned her rent check because she paid too early. Also, she was reading a book about how to manifest your dreams (which mom had given her for christmas last year) and she was practicing some of the techniques today and then got the email that she was hired, and so it seems like the book is working. And really,  she’s just so excited they were willing to hire her. At this point I almost feel obligated to congratulate her on the job because I feel very close to her. And her mom. She eventually hangs up, and a few minutes later i see a mouse run across the corner of the room and I jump and look to her to see if she’s seen it, but she hasn’t, and thats when I really start to resent her standoffishness. I debate saying something about the mouse, just for the moral support, but there is a wall up between us now, and I’m a little angry about it. 

Then three women come in and pause in the doorway when they see us (normal reaction), then they back out into the hallway and begin to loudly complain about how there are people in the room where they normally have their bookclub (the room wasn’t reserved). One of the women suggest they go upstairs, and another says “there are a few people up there too.” So then someone suggests they get their coffee and food and wait for the rest of the members and maybe someone will leave and there will be space. Then another says “Or we could do the thing where we just stand where we want to be and be really loud until they leave.” After some laughter, it appears that this is the approach they have adopted, and our little room is their target area. I remember why I hate people, and since I was planning to leave in 10 minutes anyway, decide to pack up and leave right then. I know that they will easily overpower my roommate, but then I wonder if her wall of distance might be able to withstand their book club entitlement. Part of me wants to stay and see. But I don’t.

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I’ve joined a “Biggest Loser Home Version” contest. A group of 20 or so friends and friends of friends compete with each other to see who can lose the most weight between Jan 1 and June 1. Its a $50 buy in, and so the winner could walk away with $1000. Right nowI’m at the lowest weight I’ve been at in at least a year. I still have more weight to lose, but there is still 3 weeks until the contest officially starts and any weight I lose between now and then doesn’t count. And so I feel like its actually a smart move to be eating a Cake Love cupcake at almost midnight because it increase my chances of winning the $1000 on June 1. That’s my theory anyway. By the way, the cupcake is peanut butter on chocolate (PB icing on chocolate cupcake), it’s a new flavor for me, I usually go for raspberry on chocolate. But this is very very good. Just FYI.

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I’m mostly over Army Guy. I’m noticing other guys, (ok, so I never really stopped doing that) but I don’t think I’m ready to try dating anyone in a serious way. Just the thought makes me want to run screaming from all eligible men (the two that I know at the moment). But I think I could handle a friends with benefits arrangement. I actually think it could be therapeutic. I think it could be the final step in my healing. I think sometimes its called a “rebound guy”. Whatever you call it, I think that’s what I want. I had a lovely FwB relationship last year, but he moved out of state. A really good FwB is hard to find. It really does help if there is a real friendship there on some level. Not a super deep socially entwined friendship, but an ability to carry on a conversation and enjoy each other’s company for at least a few hours. Otherwise its just a straight up booty call. Which is fine too, I’m not judging, I’ve had that. But I find that the presence of a genuine affection, or at least enjoyment of the other person, as a person, makes the benefits part better (this is predicated on the idea that the benefits are good. No amount of friendship will carry someone without some skills. That kind of sacrifice should only be made for an actual relationship). So in summary, I’d like to get a new FwB. And I think I’m going to put some energy into setting that up.

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I think its way past my bed time and i’m getting punchy. Kinda punch drunk, if you will. Perhaps too much sugar at such a late hour. I think i will take myself to bed now. Maybe my milk dream will involve cake tonight instead of cereal.

Peace out, yo.