Dishwashers, not just for dishes....

My good friend Miles has been very excited about moving into a new apartment, which is actually right next door to his old one. The one he's moving into has been gut renovated and will be brand new. He'll have an almost full size refrigerator as opposed to the "dorm" frig he's had since his landlord took out the one that was originally there. I never was quite clear about why that happened, but we're talking about Miles, so it could have been for any number of weird reasons.

Miles has been quite excited about his new apartment and in particular, about the dishwash that he now has. It's a mini dishwasher, perfect for one or two people, and that's all. Up until last weekend he was talking about how great it will be to have it....for storage. I believe he has another idea in mind.

Last year for my birthday Miles and his then girlfriend Judith invited me for a birthday dinner. While looking for something interesting to make, he stumbled upon a recipe for "Dishwasher Fish," only Judith panned the idea.

Yup, so now Miles will have his very own dishwasher to poach fish in, and he's begun threatening to actually do it. I've googled "Dishwasher Fish," and there really is a recipe for it. How crazy is that?

Goals, not resolutions

Over the past few years I’ve been pretty goal driven. It amazed me how well consciously working to achieve goals worked and now that my big three have been accomplished; I’m at a loss for exactly what to do next. I suppose getting used to a new job and a new place to live should be enough, yet somehow I’m feeling like I need more.

I’ve found myself *goal-less.* So, what better time of year to set some new ones than the “New Year’s resolution” time of year.

On December 27th I registered to take a writing class in the city one evening a week for the next seven weeks. I need to meet some new people and maybe make some new friends, along with possibly adding a little discipline to my writing.

On December 29th I joined a new gym. I’m hoping to go there at least five times per week. I’ve been missing the gym and I’m so out of shape. I’ve been managing my stress by snacking, instead of using the treadmill.

I would like to spend more time here in my new community and do more in the city…hang out with the friends I have here and also have my friends from my first home come in to visit.

Entertain…..that’s what I want to do! I want to entertain my friends, both old and new….and my family too….here in my new home!

Vacation! I would like to go on a vacation. It doesn’t have to be far away….just somewhere….away.

So, there you have it. Medium to small size goals…not resolutions…goals to work toward. Writing, gym going, entertaining and socializing, and a trip to somewhere…..

Oh, and one more thing. I would like to get the stupid wire rack I bought for my kitchen put together. I am so bad with the putting together of stuff....really, really awful.

When midnight comes....

When midnight comes, I'll tiptoe quietly across your mind, whisper in your ear that I love you.....and kiss you softly on the mouth. Happy New Year......

Internet dating...An interesting way to make new friends, but not find a boyfriend

I haven’t posted on here recently, mainly because I haven’t really had the time to write, but tonight I feel like it. I have a few pieces rolling around in my head and really need to make myself sit down and just spend a day writing them. For tonight, it’s going to be “Internet dating…..An interesting way to make new friends, but not find a boyfriend.”

I don’t normally write much about Internet dating….in the sense that I’ve told any of my more amusing stories in this spot. I never want anyone I go out with to possibly look at this and feel I’ve used them for writing fodder. So, this piece of writing is unusual in the sense that I am going to write about this subject.

Last night I met and had dinner with this amazing man. It’s always really nice when you meet someone that you immediately feel drawn toward, like you were meant to know this person. They are supposed to become a part of your life. This particular man is unfortunately for me, not going to become a romantic part of my life. I also have a knack for finding the interesting ones that already belong to someone else. Since I’ve learned that particular lesson well, I am not even remotely interested in going down that road. However, that does not mean friendship is out of the question. He claims that his record of being friends with women is “spotty at best.” I’m not exactly sure that that means and perhaps I should ask, but I’ve decided not too.

“D” and I had dinner in the village last night. The man and the place are a perfect fit for each other. He loves cats and has five of them. He’s a voracious reader, a song writer and a retired thug….what an interesting combination and one that I find so completely fascinating….and it doesn’t hurt that he’s quite attractive too.

Tonight I had dinner with a man who drove in from Long Island, only I should probably have saved him the time and effort by backing out. I already knew that we didn’t have a lot in common, yet I continue to go on these dates *just in case my intuition is wrong.* However, so far my intuition has not been wrong once.

I just barely avoided certain disaster last week when I canceled a date with someone who I felt as if I were being smothered by, and we hadn’t even met yet! When he sent me an email telling me that I had been “mean to him,” when I told him in a conversation that I couldn’t talk to him right at that moment because I was cleaning up the kitchen, I knew it was time to cancel that pending date. (And, he was serious when he said I was mean to him…I still can’t believe it.) An hour after I got that email and responded by saying I was going to decline the date we had planned for the following night, the buzzer in my apartment went off. I had to freak out just a little bit, thinking “OMG……he’s a stalker.” I’m very relieved to live in a big apartment building and not to find myself climbing out of my car in the dark and going into an unlit house.

The date I had the day after meeting D was the one my intuition was telling me not to bother going on. It was right. He picked me up in his BMW and we went to a local Chinese restaurant. At the end of the meal he proceeded to stand up, fish a wad of bills out of his pocket, peel off a $100 and throw it on the table. I was wondering if I was supposed to be impressed by that, yet all I could think was “how pretentious.” I’ve dated a couple of really wealthy men, none of whom behaved in that manner. After the waiter returned with his change, he said “I wonder how much to leave for the tip? I never look at the bill.” I’m not sure if that too, was meant to impress me. If so, it didn’t. And last but not least, while walking back to the BMW he causally mentioned that it was one of “a few” cars he owns. I think he was expecting me to ask what the others were…..only I really didn’t care enough to ask. Don’t get me wrong, I was nice.....just really turned off by his whole demeanor. When he dropped me off in front of my building, we shook hands goodbye. And neither of us has emailed since.

Next week I have tentative plans to meet another new person. My intuition is saying, “Oh, yeah….you should go on this date.” He’s interesting, intelligent, does some writing and likes mine. So, who knows what will happen. I’ve made some of the best new friends I have in recent years doing Internet dating. Maybe there are no boyfriends in my future doing this. You never know though….one or more of them might have some cool friend to introduce me too…and you what, I don’t really need a boyfriend….I just want one.

The spirit of friendship

One of my My Space friends just sent me a comment that was such a beautiful sentiment. It said "Friendship is two souls that share One Spirit." Isn't that a lovely thought? On a more intense level, it's like that *psychic twinkle* I feel I have sometimes. You know, when you've been thinking about someone and out of the blue they call or drop an email. Or when you call them just to touch base and they say, "Wow....I was just thinking about you!" Sort of like two birthday's ago when I was home, sitting at my computer desk......working and sobbing.... and out of the blue, my friend Jane called. She said she just felt like she should call me. This happens a lot to me......and I'm very glad that it does (the phone calls, not the sobbing).

Friendship.....two souls....One Spirit. I love the idea of that.

Moving day...almost

Published in the Long Island Advance, November 1, 2007

I’m at a loss for words right now, both written and spoken, and have spent far too much time putting off this particular piece of writing. By the time this column hits the paper, I will have moved! When originally asked a month ago if I could write two columns for Brian’s current vacation I figured sure, why not? And right now I am one short and all I can think about is everything there is left to do today, the day before the movers will arrive to carry all of my boxes out the door and drive them off to Jackson Heights -- that, and the fact that I have a column to write and I’m still procrastinating. According to my friend Ron, I have subconsciously calculated how much there is left to do, and know somewhere in the back of my head that I can get it all done in the time that remains. I hope he’s right. Since that made sense to me, I figured why not go out to dinner last night and spend quality time with one of my best friends, and leave even less time to finish what I need to get done. After all, I don’t want to be sitting around with nothing to do tomorrow at 8am while waiting for the movers to arrive. What fun would that be? My mother is often running around at the last minute when big things are happening and my father is usually sitting around, waiting for her to get her act together. I believe I might fall somewhere in the middle. So, off to dinner I went.

As a rule, my friend Kerm and I usually get together for breakfast once a month and when neither of us could come up with a Saturday morning on which to do so, he suggested dinner and I suggested the Main Street Café’. The Main Street Café’ has become one of my favorite places. I stumbled upon it by accident last year while looking for a place to go for coffee after the movies one Saturday night. I love this little restaurant. It’s quaint and cozy; the food is good and the people who work there are warm and friendly. Since I began commuting I haven’t had a lot of time to socialize, so I haven’t been there in a while, and when I have been, it’s usually just to order a salad to take out. Kerm was impressed with my choice of restaurant, and I thought it was cool that I was able to suggest somewhere he hadn’t ever been before.

While we were sitting there I lamented the fact that I still had so much left to do, including writing this column, and yet could not bring myself to feel the least bit guilty about being there. We had a glass of wine with dinner and at one point the owner came over to our table, introduced himself and bought us an after-dinner-drink. While we talked I mentioned that I was moving to Jackson Heights on Friday, and then thought to myself, “Oh my, I’m moving to Jackson Heights on Friday!” However, by that time I’d had a glass of wine and an after-dinner-drink, two alcoholic beverages more than I would normally have had in any given week, let alone in one evening. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to do much of anything after going home and I didn’t. I went to sleep instead.

So, here it is, the day before the move. I have no idea if I’m going to be able to get my cat in the cat carrier to move her, let alone find the cat carrier which appears to be missing, or how I’m going to have a manicure, get my hair highlighted, have my TB test (annually mandated by the world I work in) read, pack the rest of the boxes, and clean a little, all by 8am tomorrow morning. Somewhere in the back of my mind I think it’s all possible, so maybe I’ll start by going out to have a cup of coffee. The one thing I do know is that by the time you read this, my move will have been accomplished and I’ll be sitting on the floor in my apartment in Queens, debating what to do for furniture.

The night after "moving day"

Email written to all my friends and supporters, : )

Hi everyone,
Well.........I've moved and it was quite an experience. I think I might have to live here forever, since I never want to do this again. The two gentlemen who came from the moving company were less than gregarious and somewhat annoyed that when they arrived in Jackson Heights, they had to keep moving the truck around the block to let traffic pass. At one point the police were out there, practically screaming at them to move the truck as they had traffic blocked all the way down the street. The one man looked at me as if it was my fault there's no parking in JH and the streets are narrow! They also weren't happy that there were too many doors that needed to be held open.

If I ever decided to move again, I don't want to be there when they do it. Some things are best done if you don't have to witness them.........like watching as a pile of boxes crashes down to the ground because the mover is trying to shove them all onto the elevator. Really...I didn't need to see that. It was at this point I was so very happy that I hadn't had Nick and his friends move my stuff in a U-Haul! OMG....that truly would have been a nightmare!

Today with Erin's help I made some progress getting the place livable. We shifted around boxes that I can't unpack as I have no where to put the stuff once I unpack it...however, those boxes are now in a variety of places, not in one big pile in the middle of the LR floor. We went to the grocery store...and more importantly to the liquor store as I needed to try out my wine glasses. Unfortunately, when the cable guy arrived to hook up my cable/phone and Internet, he couldn't because my building is not "cable ready" as was advertised. He needed to get into the basement, which was locked and the super was somewhere in Brooklyn.........and now I will be cable/phone and Internet-less until minimally, next Saturday.

Those of you who know me well, understand that I have a bit of an Internet addiction and this is causing me no small amount of anxiety. Hence, I really did need to try out the wine glasses. Tonight I'm at Erin's. We couldn't get my DVD player to work and my bed was piled with stuff...and at least here, I can feed my Internet addiction for a little while. I'll be able to check email at work, but not visit my favorite places, or incessantly read the news...all things I like to do. Tomorrow I'll move the cat....that should be fun....not. She's going to have far fewer places to hide then she's had in the past. I'd better leave her a spot under the bed to hide out in for when company comes to visit.

Well, that's it from me for tonight. It really is going to be a great apartment...and you are all invited to come and visit! I hope you're all well and will look forward to catching up again either from work, or when I ever get back on line.

Love,
~Susan~

A day-glow green tee shirt

While thumbing through a catalog tonight I stumbled upon a tee shirt that made me laugh and that I might just have to order. It’s an interesting day-glow green color, which means that I might never actually wear it, day glow green not really being my color.

When I was a very young we used to watch the annual showing of The Wizard of Oz on TV (this was pre-video era), and I was terrified by the Wicked Witch of the West and those evil looking flying monkeys. To this day, I close my eyes when that part of the movie comes on. Years after the movie was made the actress who played the Wicked Witch did some sort of coffee commercial…..and I never liked those commercials because it was the Wicked Witch doing them.

The tee shirt says,

Don’t make me break out my
Flying Monkeys
I just thought that was so funny! (Maybe it’s just me though. Possibly some of you won’t find this funny.)

My old bedroom window

One winter Sunday morning back in February 2006, I wrote and posted a piece titled “My Bedroom Window.” I wrote it while looking at the window across from my bed, describing what I saw right down to the smallest detail.

The Curtain….“There is also a lovely curtain, of the valance variety, hanging on a curtain rod from the top of it. It’s made of a sheer white material that is sort of a V shape, the lowest point of the V hanging just in the center of the window. A trim of clear beads about two inches long each, hang down from the edge and sparkle as the sun touches them. Seeing the sun glint off the edge of this curtain is my favorite part of living in this bedroom.”

A String of Shells……..“Hanging down from the left hand side of the window, in a long vertical line from the curtain rod, is a string of shells tied together on fishing line. I strung these shells together years and years ago on a day spent at a friend’s beach house. For maybe 20 years this sting of shells hung from my kitchen curtain rod in the house I use to live in. Now they hang from my bedroom curtain rod and will hopefully hang from yet another one, in another place, at some other time in my future. I love this string of sea shells. They remind me of the summer, of the beach and the ocean, and how wonderful it is to sit by it, close your eyes and listen to the surf as it rolls onto shore and to smell the scent of the ocean salt in the air.”
Hydrangeas……….
“A pretty wreath of pink, blue and white hydrangeas with green leaves, hangs between the top of the window frame, and the top of the wall, which is actually one of the many ceiling peaks in this attic room.”
A Dream………
“I have managed to fix one window in my life exactly the way I want it to be. It’s calming to look at and is really not overly *girly*, despite my description of white lights, beads and flowers. Sitting in my bed and looking at this lovely window, in the middle of the Robin’s Egg Blue wall, makes me feel encouraged. I do however, often wonder where the other windows in my life will be located though, but figure I’ll find them eventually.”

Tonight I took down the curtain with the crystal beads, the string of shells and the wreath of Hydrangeas and packed them in a box. I feel a little sad now that it’s almost time to leave this room, and so grateful to have had it. I will miss living here with my brother and my niece. I’m going to hang the crystal beaded curtain and string of shells on my new kitchen window and will find the perfect spot for the Hydrangea wreath, in the new apartment I’m going to in Jackson Heights. This is an exciting and yet poignant time for me. Time to finally move away from home and for the first time ever, live all on my own. It’s been a long time coming and there were times when I never thought it would come to pass. See, this is what happens when you set goals and work to achieve them…..they somehow happen……..

A pair of black, spike-heeled boots

While standing on the train station platform this morning in my jeans and sneakers because it was “causal Friday,” I spied a cute young woman further down, wearing her stylish off-white, belted trench coat, and a pair of black ankle boots complete to with pointy toes and high spiked heels. Although probably “trendy” as my daughter would say, all I could think was “Jeez, how does that chick walk in those boots?” I also noted that she was standing smack-dab in the middle of the platform, and those traversing in one direction or another had to either move to walk behind her, or walk along the outside edge of the platform in front of her in order to make their way past. That was kind of rude and very poor commuter etiquette. But then again, maybe she wanted to make sure we all saw her spike-heeled ankle boots.

I’d like to say that were I twenty-five years younger I would have been wearing those boots, however, I know myself pretty well and would in all likelihood be wearing a black tulle skirt with matching combat boots. I’m not the spike-heeled type, although I do own a pair of really cute black, summer sandals with a spike heel, which I can walk all of two feet in before they start to kill me. I wore them on a date last summer, although I did not actually put them on until I was almost where I needed to go, stashing my flip-flops in the bag I was carrying, with my date, none the wiser.

While thinking about that experience I simultaneously wondered how this girl manages to walk in NYC wearing that type of footwear. I used to think “What’s the big deal? When you use the train or subway to move from place to place, why worry about comfortable shoes….you’re sitting down a lot.” Of course that is so not the case as I’ve come to learn, more than once the hard way and I still have the blisters to prove it. I’ve walked miles recently while using public transportation and decided I need to keep a pair of sneakers at work, just in case I have to go somewhere that requires walking I didn’t plan to do while wearing a cute pair of shoes. Frequently when I “Hop Stop” my subway directions I fail to notice just how far I have to walk from then I get off of, to where I want to end up. Walking is not normally a problem for me and I enjoy doing it, but only if I’m wearing the appropriated footwear.

I did sort of wistfully gaze at those ankle boots though, and think “Well, maybe I could wear them around the house.”

Death warmed over

Somebody please take me out into the back yard and put me out of my misery. I have been sick since yesterday and today has been the worst! I have a massive cold and I’m running a temperature and I have just added Robitussen to my self-medication regime. And just so you know how bad this is, I didn’t even taste the Robitussen when I took it….. for anyone who has ever taken Robitussen, you know how yucky it is and to not have been able to taste is says a lot.

It’s unfortunate that I’m still in my probationary period at my new job or I would be staying home tomorrow. That period ends on Friday…… of course, and by which time I’m hoping to feel better. I could really have used a sick day tomorrow though, but considering I just signed an apartment lease, working a day without pay is not an option.

Yes, today I signed a lease on an apartment and I’m so excited about it…even if I feel like crap. Right now my fantasy is to have a nice guy in that apartment, who I really, really like, and who will run me a bath, make me tea and rub my back. Oh, and who would also know what to do about the “check engine light” that came on in my car tonight. That’s really a moot point since I’m selling my car, however I though I’d add it to the “guy wish list” just in case. I’ve already written about “car dilemmas” so I won’t go back down that road at this time though.

So, even though I feel like “death warmed over,” (a favorite saying of my father’s), and my car has decided it needs it’s engine checked, I’m getting a place of my own to live in…….how freakin’ cool is that?!

11 secrets most men keep

I took this directly off of AOL tonight. In my new life, I've been doing a good deal of reading about relationships and what makes them work. This way, if one should happen my way I'll be better prepared.

I wonder what men think about these 11 secrets?

My comments are in blue, and not to be taken as part of this article.

"Magazine writer and editor Ty Wenger revealed in Redbook what every woman wants to know: What secrets is her husband keeping from her?Although men who tell too many lies and keep too many secrets risk souring a relationship from lack of trust, some of the more innocuous lies are told and secrets are kept to keep the peace. That is the kind of secret Wenger is revealing. And ladies, some of these secrets will melt your heart and make you so happy you married the man you did. 11 secrets most men keep, including your husband:

1. Yes, he falls in lust 10 times a day -- but it doesn't mean he wants to leave you. Yes, men like to look. Overall, they don't need the cerebral to get them going like most women do.

2. He actually does play golf to get away from you. I think time away from each other is a wonderful thing. Everyone needs their own interests in order to be well rounded people and partners.

3. He is unnerved by the notion of commitment, even after he has made one to you. Really?

4. Earning money makes him feel important. Not so much for me.

5. Though he often protests, he actually enjoys fixing things around the house. I don't really care if he can fix stuff, as long as he knows who to call when the stuff he can't fix, breaks.

6. He likes it when you mother him, but he's terrified that you'll become your mother. Me too! And, I do love my mother.

7. Every year he loves you more. That is so sweet. I'll have a man like this please.

8. He really doesn't understand what you're talking about when you discuss "issues" in your relationship. It makes no sense at all to him -- even though he will nod in agreement and apparent understanding. I don't think this is true for all men. I think this statement sells men short. I know a number of really great men who understand relationship issues and are good at talking about them.

9. He is terrified when you drive. I'm a great driver, even if I am slightly on the aggressive side.

10. He'll always wish he was 25 again. Not me....I'm loving where I am in life.

11. Give him an inch and he'll give you a lifetime. Translation: Let him be a dumb guy and play poker with his buddies or go on vacation alone, and he'll love you forever for that. 'And that's the truth,' insists Wegner. "

(Source: Redbook)

Beach scented perfume

Published in the Long Island Advance, September 20th

Last Sunday night was the one of those perfect evenings for walking. Almost fall like, it was cool and clear and the scents that perfumed the air overwhelmed me.

When walking outdoors, I have a few routes that I take that always lead me to the bay. Even on very cold winter days, that’s the direction I head, never north, always south, because I love the smell of the sea air.

On this particular evening as I started out toward the bay the first scent I noticed was that of a backyard fire place. I love the smell of fire places and used to have one in my yard. We would sit around it at night, drink coffee, talk with whoever showed up to sit and watch the fire burn, and listen to the Screech Owl that lived in the woods nearby.

Layered over top of the burning wood smell, was the scent of autumn clematis in full bloom. Growing vigorously throughout the summer, it blooms in a mass of tiny white flowers that perfume the air with a heady, sweet scent. This particular smell I recognized immediately, having planted this variety of clematis in my garden years ago and each summer, watching as it climbed its way up the side of my dining room window, with the scent of the tiny white flowers traveling into the house on the heels of the breeze that blew in through the open windows.

As I got closer to the bay, the scent of the sea air mingling with the others made me feel wistful, missing home before I have even left it. I love this smell, the smell of the bay and nearby ocean, that mixture of seaweed and salt, shells and suntan lotion. I have a “sun and sand” candle and a perfume called “Beach,” both of which if I close my eyes and breath in deeply, remind me of what it’s like to lie on the beach and listen to the surf roll onto shore, and watch the gulls as they glide on the ocean breezes.

As I continued my walk my son pulled up to the stop sign on the corner of Brook Street and Rider Ave. Having only seen him a short while before for dinner, it was amusing to run into him again so soon. Further up the road, I saw my father as he rode his bike across Rider, heading back home from his evening bike ride and one of my old neighbors as she cut her lawn. It’s odd to feel so excited about moving away and so sad about it too, sad to think about missing out on these every day encounters that for so long I have taken for granted.

My pile of boxes in the living room of my brother’s house is getting larger. I keep trying to keep in mind what he said when I was starting to say good-bye. (I’ve been starting to say good-bye in a variety of ways for a while now.) He reminded me that I’m moving to Queens, not California. I often use that line when talking about my move to other family members, like my 12 year old niece Regina, who I have also lived with for the past three years. We are making plans now for things she would like to do when she comes to visit me. This way, she too can be excited when I move, and not sad.

There’s a very good possibility that the next time I appear here, I will have written this column from an apartment in Jackson Heights. Hopefully I will be able to regal you with amusing tales and observations about how different life will become. I’m thinking that possibly I can get over the homesick part prior to actually leaving, at least that’s what I’m going to hope will happen. I’m feeling a bit dramatic about it all; you would think that I wasn’t planning to be back at least every other weekend. And in between, I can always turn out the lights, light my “sun and sand” candle, spray on my “Beach” perfume and close my eyes and breathe deeply.

(I can't believe I still have not posted my birthday column. Actually, I'm still working on it. )

Another birthday.....

I can't believe that I didn't put a post up on what was a very big birthday for me...the half century mark....50! I did have a column in the newspaper where I wrote all about it, but....I couldn't say all I wanted to say.....hence, I'm still working on it to post here.

I'll be back soon....

A new chapter begins

Published in the Long Island Advance
September 6, 2007

I’m back again, sitting in Brian’s chair and trying to come up with a plausible reason why I do this. Why I write these guest columns where the letter “I” shows up way too many times. It might have to do with the fact that I’m a social worker by nature, if not by degree. I process my life, and the lives of those I know in words, thoughts and feelings. I started out writing for myself as a means to see in a concrete way where I was coming from, and going too, and I have come to share this journey in a very public way with those of you who read what I write.

When setting out on this journey to create a new life, my decision was to make it as big and bold as it could be, and my hope was that others might see themselves reflected here as well. And, at this very moment I’ve come to the end of a chapter….and a new one is beginning.

While sitting in a friend’s kitchen in Greenwich Village one day last week I wondered out loud how I came to be at this point in my life and how it happened so fast. Not actually sitting in his kitchen, I know how I came to be there, but how I’ve reached the point where I’m on the cusp of accomplishing the last of three very large goals I set for myself two years ago.

Twenty-nine years ago I left my parents home to get married. Three years ago I left that home due to circumstances that so often happen in our lives, prompting us to choose different paths to follow. Three years ago I could never have envisioned this new life that’s unfolding in front of me.

When I was 5 or 6, I can distinctly remember looking out the window of our yellow, wood paneled station wagon as we drove through midtown Manhattan on our way to visit my grandparents in Pennsylvania, and telling my parents that one day I wanted to live in Manhattan. The sights, the sounds, the “bigness” of it all were so very appealing to me and for a number of years that was the vision I carried around in my head. Somewhere along the way I think I became afraid, afraid of living my life and my sister took over that dream and made it her own, at least for a little while. My fear was unconscious and my vision became buried somewhere deep inside of me, until it was surprisingly set free by life circumstances. Now that it’s taken flight, there’s no telling where it will end up…this vision of mine.

Today is September 6th and I am about to contact a realtor to begin apartment hunting in Queens. It may not be Manhattan, but it’s darn close. Not only will I be looking for a home of my own, I will be looking for it in the place I so long ago felt drawn to. It’s both exciting and frightening to teeter on the rim of this precipice.

As I stand here at the edge of a new beginning, I wonder about the journeys that others of you have taken, the steps and missteps, the laughter, and the tears that you shed along the way. As an observer and one who always has an opinion, I would love to hear your stories and continue to share mine with you, no matter how infrequently I can be found sitting in Brian’s chair. Yes, I write from a woman’s perspective, yet that is not the only point I can see from. If you would like to share any of your stories with me, please feel free. I’m going apartment hunting now, but….I’ll be back.

The subway tour

This was one long day of riding the train and subway and somehow doing a tour of all the places I silently wept in last Tuesday night. I think it’s pretty damn amazing that I managed to find my way into Grand Central Station and on to every one of those subway platforms, with the exception of the N.

Having managed to only minimally email Harry this week, my resolve broke when I was in GCS and I text messaged him telling him how hard it was for me to be there, so close and yet so far away from him…..and how I missed him. Of course he didn’t respond, nor did I expect he would. I found myself in almost the exact same spot we said good-bye in while my heart was crumbling into a million little pieces. It was hard to be back in that moment. Especially since I have always hated the “good-byes” and that was such a final one. Maybe not final forever, but final in so many other ways. Ways that I will dearly miss.

I spent the day traveling to and from the Bronx, all the way up to Pelham, for a 1 hour meeting that they kept me waiting for. Getting there was easier than returning once I got past the Grand Central Station part. However, the return trip involved Miles, so getting back was just a little more complicated and involved me having to write direction on a napkin. (Miles is always trying to find a better way for me to get from place to place, which normally just confuses me more.)

After attending my much delayed meeting, Miles, who lives on City Island, picked me up and we went to Arthur Avenue for lunch. Miles has been such a wonderful friend and has been doing his best to distract me and cheer me up. Last Saturday I went to City Island for the day and we had a barbeque with a very interesting cast of characters (and, I’ll write about that another time…it really was entertaining). And today, it was lunch on Arthur Avenue. Arthur Avenue is the Bronx version of Little Italy, minus all the tourists. It was the coolest place, where you could buy pasta bowls and dishes from sidewalk vendors, and find authentic food, including fresh baked breads and pastries. And, there were people there who actually spoke Italian!

Over lunch was when I got the napkin out and wrote down the directions. Miles knows that I need all the directions, right down to the tiniest details, just to make sure I don’t get lost. It wasn’t until he was dropping me at the subway, which he thought was the 4, but turned out to be the 5, that the directions had to be tweaked just a little. It was on this return trip that I managed to find myself on almost all the subway platforms I had previously cried upon. I didn’t cry today…..but, I did feel really sad. It was a bittersweet, underground tour of my most recent heart break. I wish I didn’t still feel so emotionally wounded, feeling the need to continue to wallow in self pity and despair. (OK, maybe despair is a bit dramatic….)

I survived the “heartbreak tour,” and while doing so, think I figured out how to comfortably ride the subway while standing. The trick is to just relax and go with the flow. It’s sort of like standing on a boat; you have to sway with the movement. Jeez…I wish I could just go with the flow of my life. I wish I were not one of those over thinkers who carries an unprotected heart with her, everywhere she goes.

Delete, delete, delete, delete.....

He said he had no idea she loved him. How is that possible she wonders to herself? Over the past two years they have exchanged hundreds of emails…hundreds. She’s a writer and in the thousands of words she’s written to him, how did he miss this? She was not vague. Today she is amazed that he says he didn’t know how she felt about him. It would have been almost impossible for him not to know. Strangers knew. People who only know her through her writing in cyberspace could tell that she loved this man. And he, who she has spent time kissing….had no idea?

This morning she awoke and used the delete key on her computer. She deleted the few pictures she had of him, deleted his website from her “favorites” list and deleted him from her AOL Buddy List. It was purely a symbolic act though. Let’s face it; it’s not like she doesn’t know where to find him, like she’s forever severed her cyber link to him. It’s not like she doesn’t have his phone number, or know where he works, or of a place she can go to hear his voice, even if it’s not her he’s talking too.

She deleted so it would be just a little less convenient to perseverate on him. To torture herself by seeing his face or hearing his voice. She wishes there were a way to delete this heart ache she feels. It’s been four days. She should be feeling better…right?

Unable to cry any longer, she feels numb and overwhelmed with sadness, and angry. Angry at his professed inability to see her standing out here, angry at his inability to see how much she cared about him and how much she wanted to care for him.

She deleted him from her buddy list...for now....for now the sound of his door opening and his name appearing on the right side of her computer screen, as if he’d walked into the room with her, is much more than she can handle. It’s hard enough having him walk across her conscious mind a hundred times a day. Seeing him in a tangible way is too difficult for her.

She could not have deleted in a permanent way though, in a way where you suddenly feel cold and clammy and think “OMG, I’ve just deleted something that I’ll never get back!” She still has his phone number and can certainly type in his web address. She’s trying so very hard not to let herself be weak. Not to let herself call, or text, or even go to a website and look. She’s trying so hard to distance herself from him and it’s one of the most difficult things she's ever had to do.

She's trying so hard to get to a point where it won't matter to her anymore. Where he will just be someone she knows..........

She gambled and she lost. Why does she insist on learning these lessons the hardest way possible?

"Leave love bleeding in my hands..."

“I love you,” she finally says.

She physically hurts from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She aches deep down inside, in a place she never knew existed.

“I love you,” she finally says. “I’m standing out here at the edge of your life, waiting for you, and I have no idea if that’s what you want.”

“Don’t wait for me,” he replies

“I want to wait for you,” she whispers.

“Don’t wait for me. I want you to have a happy life.”

“I love you. I want to wait for just a little while.”

“Don’t wait for me. I don’t love you,” he says.

And inside of her, her heart breaks…shattered into a million little pieces. Tears well up into her eyes and silently trickle down her face as her head rested upon his chest. She walked down this road of her own free will, her eyes wide open and knowing full well that she might end up in this place. This crying place.

It’s taken 49 years, 11 months for her to feel heartbreak like this. Almost like heartbreak over the death of someone she loves, only different and in some ways far more difficult, since he still exists in the real world, just not in her world in the way she wants him to be. She aches for him and for the potential that she knows he’s walking away from.

She said she is living her new life with no regrets and that she would never regret loving him.

He said that she was braver than he.

Silently she cried while lying next to her daughter, whose apartment she stayed at that night. She wanted to go home so that she could lie in her own bed and sob, hoping that if she did so, she might rid herself of some of this heart break.

He is not to blame for her tears. He was never anything but upfront about where he was in his life and his situation. She thought if she loved him enough, she could change that. She was wrong and yet she loves him nonetheless.

She loves him in spite of the fact that he does not love her.

She wonders how long it will be before she runs out of tears. She feels stupid being almost 50 and finding herself truly loving someone for the very first time in her life….. and now having to cry about him. But, living a life with no regrets means putting yourself in situations where you risk having your heart broken into a million pieces. She has no way to protect her heart….it’s always right out there for everyone to see.

She can’t imagine her life without him in it……..and she can’t imagine never being able to love him the way she wants to love him….

There’s a song on her iPod she cried while listening to on the train tonight. (Silently of course, so as not to appear to be a total nut job….in the past 24 hours she’s gotten very good a crying silently.) The song is by Fuel and the title is Hemorrhage (In My Hands), one line in particular speaks to her right now.

“Leave love bleeding in my hands….”

This is exactly how she feels as she stands here at the edge of his life, love...bleeding in her hands.

Rumor mongers again....

OK...so, I'm not going to post on the message board if I ever find it. The hell with the rumor mongers...why stoop to their level......I've written about here...have thought about it a bit more...and now I'm fine with letting idiots be idiots.

The rumor mongers

I have a passionate dislike for rumor mongers. You know, people who like to make crap up at the expense of others. I have a very good friend Kermit (I call him Kerm), who is going through a dramatic life change right now and who I will gladly spend all the time he needs, supporting. He allowed me to cry into my pancakes over Saturday morning breakfasts a few years ago and for that I will be forever grateful. He is one of a few men I’ve come to think of as my “platonic boyfriends,” and is by far my very favorite. In many ways he’s like the older brother (although not by much), that I never knew I wanted. He dispenses “guy advice” that sometimes I take and other times I shake my head and think “yeah, right….I don’t think so.”

I met Kermit through a local political organization where we both live, becoming involved with them because I could no longer live my life sitting on the couch watching television. We were fast friends almost immediately, with never one spark of romance or sexual tension involved in our relationship.

Kermit supported me when I need it, he didn't freak out when I cried, he always paid for breakfast, he sent me emails and he bought me a Goo Goo Dolls DVD he saw in a store knowing how much I liked them, even though I suspect he still has no idea who they are. Over the past few years he has been one of my primary advisors when it came to looking for a new job, or…..a new life.

It’s now my turn to help Kermit make a new life. It’s unfortunate that it’s going to be a drama filled process, but that’s not the story here. The story here is about the “rumor mongers.”

Politics, is politics, is politics. Because Kerm and I were at one time both involved with the same local, grassroots political organization we have now become linked on a sleazy political message board. A message board where people post anonymously about others and it makes no difference whether the information is true or not. In some ways I find the whole thing amusing. I could care less what the rumor mongers post, especially considering there are maybe only a handful of people who even look at that message board. Yet, in other ways I’m feeling really pissed off about it. Kermit's wife, who is involved in his drama is affected by this and was the person who found the post and then questioned him. Although she and I are only acquaintances, people adding to their family drama by lying only adds to the discomfort that already exists….and I’m not talking about my discomfort which is actually quite minimal. I know what the truth is.

I can’t seem to find the damn message board and believe me; I’m still looking for it. I have all intentions of posting my thoughts about what the rumor mongers are saying, even though on some levels, all it will do is reinforce their bad behavior. Nevertheless, I’m going to have my say, and it won’t be anonymously either. And you can bet your sweet ass that I’m not the least bit afraid of being seen with Kerm, be it here, or anywhere else.