Rise of a King, the Fall of a Queen

I have been thinking alot about gender roles. About how we are taught and trained to be a certain way. That there are certain acceptable ways to behave and that there are other actions that are not as acceptable. For example, I am noticing that perhaps it is not as appropriate for me to talk about drinking whisky or being a fan of "manly" drinks now that I am back in the states. Somehow, the drink of choice for me is really meant to be the drink of choice for someone older, richer, and perhaps with a bit more hair growing on that individual's face.

But there are also other things I have noticed. One thing is that I have a work mate who likes to hug me. If you know nothing else about me, it would be that I do not do well with physical contact. I am not one to be close to others, unless I really know and love them; and this person I do not know and love. Not only do I not know and love, but that person also holds a more senior position. So, it makes me uncomfortable for many, many reasons. And yet, even as uncomfortable as I seem, I know that it is more acceptable that perhaps a male superior hugging me, even if the intention was the same. So why should one person be allowed to hug me (and make me feel uncomfortable?) when the other can't? All because of gender, it seems.

There are other ways that gender seems to affect my life. Like taking the initiative and asking friends to do things with me. It seems a bit manly to make the plans, and sometimes, I want to embrace my gender role and sit back and have the plans made for me. Not because I think of myself as some retiring female without a thought in her head, but because sometimes, it feels like I am the one doing all the asking and planning and organizing and it feels as though I am the only one invested and perhaps, I should just be more open to letting things go.

In the end, it's all odd to me. That fact that I want to embrace some of the feminine things - heels and makeup and getting dressed up - and other times, I want to be allowed to express my individuality and pay for the meal or make the plans, so that they do not suck. I want the ability to embrace both the male and female and keep them guessing, but still always acknowledging that I am very much, one hundred percent, bonafide chick

Evolution in a Glass

After the evening out on Friday, I started thinking about how my drinking habits have evolved from the simple girl I used to be, downing a beer on tap and/or tequila shots and calling it a good time. And I also started thinking about how my tastes have evolved along the same path that my life has progressed and that when I look back on my drinking evolution, there are moments that stand out and send me down a slightly altered path.

I have always had a penchant for the drink, but not because I am a raving alcoholic but because I was never told there was anything inherently bad or forbidden about booze. It was more about knowing what you liked, knowing how to be responsible, and knowing when to walk away so you did not make an absolute ass of yourself. And I think I have learned that pretty well from a young age, so that would almost be the start of the evolutionary chain for me.

From there, it was fitting in with the crowd when I could drink which normally meant beer on tap that was relatively cheap or on special. After all, grad students are notoriously underpaid but like (some may say need) to get out and drink. After a while, I started getting invites to attend free scotch tastings from Johnnie Walker and I thought, why not? Free fits in with my budget and scotch was something I grew up around but did not have strong feelings for one way or another. And every tasting I went to, I was introduced to new ways to drink scotch (manhattan, anyone?) and also the art of drinking scotch and learned to appreciate it. So, suddenly, I was a scotch drinker. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the taste and the difference of being a scotch drinker. I liked going to bars and ordering something different and to be honest, it seemed to garner me a bot more attention from bartenders and strangers close by alike. A bit different than the other girls chugging down whatever brand of beer happened to be offered to them and was 'cool' at the moment.

Then I made the greatest leap into my foray into scotch and moved to England. It is like moving to the nieghbourhood where scotch was invented and mastered. I was in heaven and in England, I learned how to appreciate the single malts. If Johnnie Walker was my bottle, then the single malts were what the grown ups drank. And I felt like a grown up, so I owned it. I wanted to learn more about scotch. I associated with fellow scotch drinkers and they taught me things they had learned and introduced me to scotches I had not even fathomed. If the scotch shelf in any self-respecting bar in America had maybe four or five bottles, even the diviest place in England had at least ten. Again, it was heaven. And then we met our whisky guy, Phil. Someone who was a professional and trained myself as well as others on how to taste and what different areas did to different scotch and how to buy and generally, how to really love a good scotch. He even introduced us to blended scotches that were nothing to sneer at. These were not the training wheels of the scotch world; these were well thought out concoctions.

And now I have brought it back here and I am training others. I am introducing my boss to drams that I think he might like based on his preference, but may never have sought out. I am taking friends with me to more refined tastings to see that scotch is not a scary drink and that like a fine wine, each scotch (and every year) has something different to offer. Maybe, one day, when I am back in the UK, I can get my wine guy to really introduce me to wine and make me a convert. But for now, I will take mine straight up, with a splash of water on the side, or on the rocks.

Copacabana

It has been an interesting night. I have been reminded of how much music can make us relive all the memories that make us who we are. I don't think that any of my memories necessarily have a Barry Manilow soundtrack attached to them, yet at the same time, the words he sings are universal and can strike a cord and spark a memory.

Tonight, Tonight

It has been one of those rare nights where everything just seems to work and all the planning - or, sometimes, lack thereof - have made it worthwhile in the end. And I am sitting at home now, thinking that what I really need in Miami is more nights like this to remind me that despite all the things I dislike intensely about living here, there are shining moments that make it all worthwhile.

I am wondering if there is a secret formula as well. Is there some sort of magic number of new and old friends, places visited and activities partaken that make one night more particularly outstanding than another? I am truly not sure. Sometimes I have had glorious nights just me and a close friend and other nights, it has been me and 200 strangers and I feel the only variable has been my willingness to go out and have a good time. So, perhaps there is some truth that it is all in an attitude.

Nevertheless, I can remember countless times where I have stepped out of my house, excited about the night ahead and without the momentum to sustain that attitude and those thoughts, the night has taken a rather shocking turn for the worst. I have willed nights to be better; I have sat down and analyzed my thoughts, trying to turn them towards a better cast and ultimately, I have failed.

In the end, I think I am just more willing to try this year. I have made my resolutions and I am resolved to stick to them. I am more open to pursuing opportunities when and where they arise and sometimes, I stepping outside of my normal strictures and doing things I would not have dreamed of in the past. I am still sometimes appalled at my behaviour. Not because I find the things I do reprehensible, but because it is so far outside of the way I have programmed myself to act that I feel as though I am being naughty. And, yet, if others I call friends do not mind and it has positive results, who am I to argue?

According to Plan

I have plans; plans that are pretty cunning and plans that I am sure are bound to work out because I have planned them and thus, they are wonderful. I have also experienced the fact that while my plans are wonderful and the epitome of awesomeness, they sometimes do not work out. Which is fine, as long as plan B is available for me to move my planning abilities to.

What happens when plans get disrupted and there is no way to pick up the thread? What happens when everything you wanted for yourself suddenly becomes the very thing that you are not allowed to have? What if somewhere in the planning, you realize that the plans you made were not the plans that you really wanted? What then? Do the amazing plans go down the drain or do you shift the plans a little further to the right to fit more in line with what you want for yourself?

I have had my plans change and I have changed my plans. I have gone from plan A through plan B and C and D. But in the end, I always have a plan. Because I am much too structured to feel comfortable not having a plan. And even when I am being spontaneous, I still have a plan. So, here is to a plan well-laid and a plan that works. And most importantly, here is to plan that make not always work but will always be there to guide me

I Got A Feeling

To a lovely lady:

You are one of those people that I consider integral to the life that I lead now. You have become a confident, a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen to my troubles and my woes, a companion in laughter and a friend in my solitude. And for all these things, I call you friend. And for all these reasons, your life will be intertwined with mine for a long time. Before I knew you, I am not sure how I managed without you in my day to day actions. And now that I do, I can not imagine a time or a place where you won't be there, whether by my side or in my heart.

And so here I am, writing thoughts down as I have them because for all that you mean to me, I can not comfort you in your time of distress. I am not sure what are the best words to say, and I am trying to be there for you, but somehow my presence is not as much of a help as a hindrance. I know best to leave you alone, but I also know that right now, you need to be outside yourself. I feel helpless and lost and need guidance when I know you have none to give. Or none to spare. This time, I do not think the distinctions matter any.

Right now, I wish that it had been me. I wish that it had happened to me and I was the one going through this. The doubt, the self-recriminations, the blame, the guilt, the shame. The feelings of failure. All that I think I could have borne upon myself. But I can not bear to see you suffering what I wish were mine to bear. I know that this is a moment, I know that you have nothing to blame yourself for. That all the things we tell you are true and that in time, you will come to believe what we say. But I also know that now is not the time to believe or to hear or to let anything pierce the shell of your feelings.

So I write this to let you know. I write this to have you remember when this is past. I write this as a testament to the friendship and kinship I feel for you. I write this because sometimes we need to say things that we can not tell others. And I write this as a memory, a reminder of all the things I mean to say and hope I finally have the chance to, when everything is quiet and still in your heart.

How I Feel

I thought it would be good to spend a little more time thinking about love. So many things today have reminded me of how loved I am and how much I love other people. Maybe it is all the pink and red and hearts that seem to be everywhere, or maybe I am sticking to my resolutions and in my own way, finding a happy place that seems more rosy and lovely, but I am in love with life. And I am in love with love. And while I still am a ways off from falling in love with the idea of being in love, I could see that state of bliss would have its uses.

It is rare for me to speak from the heart, as I am so used to just speaking from the head. I am used to thinking about and analyzing and wondering, instead of just feeling. Probably because in the past. I have found that just feeling leads to a whole lot of trouble and very little reward. Yet, today, right now, I just feel. Because I feel happy for what the first time in what seems like a very long time. I have picked myself up and decided to become a little more carefree with my life, and with it has this incredible sense of well-being, if not being well.

I am finding that I am not only happy, but I am also feel a bit more positive. I am feeling like my outlook on life is sky high, instead of down in the dumps. I am not sure why, I am not sure how, but for now, I am happy to ride the feel good train and experience that sense of self-satisfaction that reminds me what a lovely person I am; what a lovely person I have become and what a lovely person I have yet to be.

I Believe in a Thing Called Love

I feel like it is one of those days where I am hitting the high notes: the sun is shining, the weather is beautiful - not too warm, not too cool and the humidity is still high, but manageable. I am making plans: eating a little healthier in general, thinking about hitting the gym later and making plans for what else I need to do for the week.

And in all of this, I have been thinking about love. It does not help that at the moment I am also currently obsessing about one of the BBC period dramas that they do so well, with all its intrigues and love-crossed lovers and everything else. It has me not necessarily longing for a time when actions and words carried more weight and more subtlety than they do these days, but it definitely has me longing.

I guess this may also be a symptom of Valentine's day fast approaching (again. The yearly treat to make you reassess your relationship status, whatever it may be) but I have been thinking alot about love. I have been thinking about how much love I have for my friends and how loved I feel by the tiniest gesture because I know it comes from some place marvelous. I have been thinking about being in love and what that means to me and thinking about whether I still feel as though I am not the marriage type. Hell, that I am not the commitment type. I do not want to say that I am reexamining all the things I thought true about myself, but I am looking them over. Making sure that they are still valid and that I still want the same things I did years ago.

I have been thinking about how love can change, for both the good and the bad. About how some people grow stronger and more secure and others seem to fall apart and fall aside in their love. I am thinking about how love can linger, well past the actual feeling -t hat catch in your heart or the jump in your throat. But it lingers and stays, like an indelible tattoo emblazoned on your soul, on you mind, on your heart. Where ever it is that love truly lies. I have been thinking about the small and the big, but most of all I have been thinking about how grand it all is. And, that even after all this time, I still believe in love, even if sometimes it feels like it does not believe in me anymore.

Androgyny

I seem to be having a moment. I have spoken before about how much of a guy's girl I am. Of how I tend to gravitate towards things that would be considered more masculine and how sometimes I just do not seem to see the point (or get pleasure) from the things that are considered feminine: romance movies and getting all gussied up and etc and etc and etc. Sure, I do enjoy those things once in a while. Who does not love sometimes going away from the norm and surprising people and surprising yourself.

But I am having a moment where I am embracing the gender trend. Maybe it is being influenced too much by the television that I watch (hello, Dr. Who fan) or maybe there is something fun about playing up curves in clothes that should not contain curves, but I am whole-heartedly embracing menswear. So I am looking forward to rocking up to work tomorrow and working the suit pants with braces (I would call them suspenders but that just makes me think of very girlie wear) with some lovely deco-style satin high heels and a nicely pressed button down.

It is these little things that make me feel happy on a day to day basis. The little things I do that make me feel like I embracing the things I love and maybe pushing the envelope a little. I feel that after thirty years on this earth, I should be able to know exactly what I am all about. But it seems like I am still trying to figure myself out a bit. From what catches my fancy style wise to the person I think I really am. And this year seems to have been all about pushing my boundaries - from trying out shorter hairstyles to lusting and buying things that seem so far beyond what I think I would want, but finding a way to work them into my closet. And eventually, my life.

What Hurts the Most

I have often wondered what is the worst part of being in love. Whether it is the feeling of suddenly putting someone else's needs and wants over your own, which seems counter intuitive for survival, or whether it is the way that we suddenly abandon all the things that are routine for some a new, scary role: significant other.

Or is the worst part of being in love that moment where you realize that you are no longer in love? I am reminded of it because of a close friend of mine. While words can only convey so much, just the opening sentence has left me thinking of all the times I have been in love - the times where I have wanted and craved someone more than I thought possible and the moment where I realized that no matter how much I felt towards them, no matter how much I cared for them, the way things were going would never make us happy and we could never be more than a 'you and I' situation. And I walked away. Or, if I was lucky, I was walked away from.

Thinking about it, that does seem to be the worst part of love. The part where love is lost. And yes, I have known people who find it again. Who manage to works through all the possible situations that can dim and sometimes extinguish what we feel for another person, but most of the time, I think it just fades and dies. I think falling out of love is perhaps the most hurtful part of any relationship. Because it takes time. Because in the flash of memory, years later and continents away, a flash of a memory can make you fall in love all over again - with the idea of the person that you cared for - and then you have to work through falling out of love all over again.

Chicken or Egg?

I am weirdly having a situation whereby you think something (or rather, resolve to something) and it happens. But I am stuck here wondering which is it - chicken or the egg? Would the situation I am currently ruminating about have happened even if I had never decided I needed to be more proactive? Or is it because I actually was proactive about it that I am now in a little bit of a predicament?

So, one of the new year's resolutions was to have a little more fun and get out more often. So, I have been accepting invites and sometimes sending out some of my own by getting in touch with my friends that I do not see enough of by any estimation. It has been slow and sometimes, there are times that I really just want to stay in and read a good book or catch up on some television shows that I have been longing to see.

It is next weekend, though, that has me pulling my heart out and pondering how best to schedule 48 hours and making it last for more than 96 (yes, I am talking about doubling it). It seems that as soon as I decided to be bold and buy some tickets for my mom and I to spend the evening enjoying one of her activities (i.e. listening to Barry Manilow in concert), I had the option of attending a VIP Burlesque evening (and if you know nothing else about me, you'll know that the later is the kind of thing that I live for. Hello, chance to wear corsets and high heels!). If I thought two options were bad that weekend, I have since been invited to a free whisky tasting event, a birthday party for a close friend's daughter (nothing so fun as cake and kids, especially when you get to take some of the cake home and the kids get to be cute around you, until you are tired of it), and plans to meet up with a friend in West Palm. So, yeah, it looks like it might be a pretty busy weekend and I wanted to live a life that was a little more exciting, but hectic was not what I planned. Oh, well, c'est la vie!

For the First Time

I sometimes feels a bot at odds with the rest of the world whenever I trawl through my closet. Funnily enough, unlike everyone else, when I buy an item I have been coveting, I have a difficulty moving from the stage of wanting and lusting for something completely fabulous and moving into the wearing and making myself fabulous because of the procured item. So, inevitably, I will - perhaps years down the road - look at it and realize that perhaps I should actually try to incorporate it into my wardrobe instead of simply loving it from afar. Or, at least, from a position nowhere on me.

There is something a little exciting about putting on a new shoe or shirt or whatever else it may be, especially if it was a lust worthy item at one point. There is the satisfaction of knowing that you finally got what you really wanted. The thrill of a hunt completed and a final feasting at the table of fabulous, you might say. To me, there is also that small part of me that hopes other people see the new item and think it is as wonderful and note worthy as I did. But more importantly, I always hope that some new item finally being introduced into my wardrobe will be come something that becomes an essential part of it.

To me, there is not anything more disappointing than putting on a new pair of shoes and realizing that it is almost impossible to hobble more than a few steps in them or putting on a new item of clothing and spending most of the time wearing it constantly readjusting and tugging and twisting and generally, feeling uncomfortable. Basically, it is that deflated feeling of realizing that the item you wanted and longed for just does not become you. Whether it is because it does not fit (and having purchased some items of clothing years before finally wearing, that sometimes happens to me) or because it actually is not you anymore. It just does not reflect the person you know you are and you have become.

Oh No!

In walking over to the dining area with some of my work colleagues, I realized that I do not seem to possess that special type of girl relationship with any of my friends and I am feeling a bit left out. Not really jealous, as I at the same time as realizing that I did not seem to have perfected the knack of the female conversation, also realized that I would probably be dead bored in all of two seconds (which I was by all the nattering) and have to just walk away (which I also did).

So what is the art of the girl conversation you may ask? It seems to open with a positive compliment or two, normally focused on said outfit or how wonderfully thin said girl appears to look. So, then I guess opening with a hug and exclaiming how long it has been is no longer appropriate. Or clearly needs to be followed up with ego stroking. Which I am just not good at. I do not think it is because I find my friends repulsive trolls or something of the sort but more because I think all my friends are beautiful. So what is the point of complimenting them on something that should already be quite apparent (and is, to anyone with eyes to see)?

My second failure seems to be in the understanding that positive compliments require immediate and complete disavowal when girls are having a tête-à-tête. While my inclination is normally to undermine anything nice that someone has to say about me, I have learned to fight the impulse and actually just graciously accept the compliment. So why, in the course of any relationship, should I have to undervalue myself by denying that the clothes I wear are in fact, fabulous, and the curves I bring the table desirable? Even more so, why should I undervalue myself and then turn around and tell you how wonderful you are compared to me? That truly does seem to be the rule for girly interacting. The prescribed pattern: one person starts with a compliment which is turned down and the countered with a different compliment that ups the ante. What’s the point? Are we bonding over how hideous we think ourselves to be? And why? How does that even make sense? If you truly think you are that hideous/unlovable/troll-like, why would should you also believe that anyone would want to be friends with you?

I sometimes am just no good at the whole girl thing. In a different life, I might even have been a male as so many ways I think and approach the world just do not seem to jive with the ‘feminine’ way. But I do not consider myself some freak of nature; I just thank my lucky stars that my family thought it wise enough to teach me how to be a good person who thinks for herself, and most importantly, value herself, than playing into some culturally accepted form of brainwashing.

You've Got a Friend

It has been one of those days where I am always surprised by the people that I know. Most of the time, I know that there are people who love me and I can call friend, but it never really feels like that because so many of them are so far away and for the ones that are close by, our lives are in such divergent streams, it feels like they may as well be a million miles away for all the good it sometimes does me.

So a day like today is rare. Where I can sit down with three of my good friends (it could have been four but a last minute plan means less people may be able to make it a part of theirs) and just have a good laugh, talking about the mundane. Pets and life and snow and whatever else crossed our minds. And chocolate (so, yes, definitely some very good friends indeed). I have forgotten how nice it is to just be out with people, experiencing something new and finding something wonderful in Miami (of course, north Miami since everything further south seems to just feel a bit tainted). I have missed that and I need to ensure that more opportunities like that find themselves to me (or, if it is not about the opportunity finding me, but me creating it, then I need to be more proactive).

The other thing that has amazed me recently about my friends is how appreciative they are of the little things. I have been brought to tears by messages that my friends sent me within the past few weeks, just checking in but also letting me know that things I do mean so much to them and why. It touches my heart to know that the people who matter to me are also the people I matter to, because there is nothing more true than friends are hard to find. And, perhaps I should add, all the more precious when you realize that you have them.

Vogue

Yesterday's post (and happenings) has me thinking about what my fashion edict is. I do not think that most days I dress like a rock star/fetish queen but the boots I bought yesterday (see 01/15/2011 blog) states otherwise. I do not lie when I saw I wanted these boots as soon as I saw them. I did not think they would not be practical. I did not think I would never wear them. And when I saw them, I thought they clearly echoed the sentiment of the person I am.

When I think about my closest though, I do not really think it is riddled with lace and leather and lots of jackets with studs and zippers. I do not eve think of myself as a particularly tough person. Yet, when ever I peruse fashion journals or style guides, the styles that always speak to me are a little bit rock, and a whole lot of roll. Which seems strange as I look back through pictures of myself. If anything, my day to day style seems more preppy and less hipster; More traditional, less pushing the boundaries.

So why do the boots exemplify who I am? I have been thinking about it as I try to plan how to pull the boots into my wardrobe. Clearly, these won't be the type of shoes that I lug into work in. Instead, these are the shoes I might pull on with a more traditional skirt and tights to make it a little more glam. I am even thinking it would be great to wear with the CK cocktail dress that I have hanging up in my wardrobe, just waiting for a night out and a suitable occasion. I am thinking they would be fun under jeans, as a sort of quiet rebellion or maybe being all our rocker with a lace top (yes, I do own some though I seem to wear them more dainty than rock), velvet shorts, tights and boots.

In the end, my feeling is that I am less of a fashion follower and more of a chameleon. There are certain styles I adore and most of these styles have a little bit of edge and darkness to them (hence, my love of all things goth) but at the same time, I know when to wear certain things and what is professional and what is for fun. So the boots will stay buried in the closet - albeit in the front - and I will wear my button downs and my trousers, but with every foray into my closet, remembering the rebel yell that dwells within my heart.

Do You Really Want To?

I am generally not impractical. Except for when it comes to certain things (or, in my case, certain thing). I tend to crave shoes. And right now, I am craving a pair of dangerously high, dangerously skinny, dangerously heavy boots from Pour La Victorie. Every since I saw them in the discount chain near me, I have wanted them but at $250 dollars, it felt a little rich for a moment of insanity for pretty, pretty shoes that I could admire.

But, having watched the price drop lower and lower on clearance, they are now at a price point where all I want to do is scoop them up and take them home to be adored (and possibly even worked into the wardrobe; though right now, all I can think is jeans which takes away from the awesomeness of the shoes). So, what is it about shoes - and about these boots in particular - that make me a little insane in the membrane???

For one thing, I think that these boots speak to the person I would like to believe I am when I am out and about. Fun loving, tough, sexy but strong. And I feel like perhaps owning these shoes and wearing these shoes would let others realize the person that I know myself to be. But the other thing that makes me go Gaga for these shoes (and yes, that is Gaga in the right sense!) would be that these shoes are wonderful. They are statement. And they are the epitome of fabulousness - the kind of shoes you would see on some starlet at some party, being all gorgeous. And I feel that that is so me!

Graphic Arts

This may be a good thing, it may be a bad thing, but I find that these days, I am even more of a geek than I have ever been. Beyond getting the random sci-fi references and spending most Saturday nights glued to a television screen - devouring the latest version of a British import of fabulousness (whether it is time lords or prehistoric anomalies, I am your girl!) - I am now drawn to all things comic. Not fall down, slapstick comic. Rather, graphic novels or what we used to call back in the day simple "comic books".

I have always been a fan of comic books - having grown up with two older brothers, especially one who was a big fan of the adventures comics, I know most of the back story (up to about the early nineties) for most of the heroes of the DC and Marvel Universe. But these days, almost every new idea seems to come from graphic novels. I seemed to fall into it when I found out that one of my favourite authors also had a graphic series. So, boom, I was off to the library and ordering copies of the Sandman series. Next, it was following my television series of all time - Buffy, of course - into the realm of the comic world in order to see what the new season held.

From there, it was a short jump into other interesting story lines that grabbed my attention and would have, whether the format had been comic or otherwise. Bone, Fables, reinterpretation of the classics - you name it, I am reading it. I also have family members who are introducing me even further into the world. Someone like me who likes to read, who would sometimes choose to veg with a good book rather than be out and about with the real world. And so I am learning about the Living Dead (also a television series now) and AtomicRobo (part of a rather wonderful christmas present that tied together my love of books, the comic arts and all things Fortean). So, hello geek girl. Welcome to the world of "oh, wow! We thought she was cool"

The Gift

I find myself in a good mood today; probably because I have the day off tomorrow and I am at the start of a long weekend with lots of possibilities before me. As stressful as the last week has been, I am glad to have the time off. I feel as though I completely wound down as soon as I stepped away from the office and it helps that I put the music on loud and my foot down hard on the accelerator on my way home. Nothing says weekend like a little speed and a lot of singing along to good songs.

Short but sweet tonight. More tomorrow.

The Sad but True Story...

I have this sinking feeling that I am unhappy. You would think it would be one of the things I would either be able to know for sure or not, but I actually do not. Yet I seem to have all the hallmarks of heading towards a long patch of unhappy. So, you may ask, what are some of the warning signs I have been noticing? Let me give you a breakdown:
1) I am more anxious than I normally feel. Normally, I can control the level of anxiousness and talk myself our of feeling worked up. But it is getting harder. I am operating on a level where by even the slightest thing has me convinced that I am on my way out the door - whether it is my career or my friendships or whatever is important to me. And feeling that level of anxiety is normally a good sign that my mood is moving from euthymic to downwards spiral.

2) I find it hard to sleep. I am not just talking about a lack of sleep (which, based on the evidence, would actually push me into a more positive mood) but just having a sleep schedule that does not have any order to it. So, somedays (normally the weekends), I will sleep late, wake up, take a stretch, and then fall asleep some more. Weekdays - it is more of a struggle to fall asleep at a decent time and staying asleep some type of miracle. For some strange reasons, even despite the interrupted sleep, I still wake before the alarm, feeling burned out but yet wide awake - and normally - perplexed (weird dreams and all).

There are many more signs, I am sure, that I could prattle on and on about; perhaps the kind of thing I will get into at a later date but all in all, there are signs. On the plus side, most of my resolutions are designed to get me out of my headspace, which is normally what contributes to the lowered mood. Recognizing the fact that there are little sign posts on the way and what it might mean is another way I feel like I am actually getting a grasp on my life and the way I feel, instead of suddenly being surprised when I am in the middle of a full blown despair. After all, knowing is half the battle.

Fake Plastic Trees

I am having a random day whereby my thoughts are not flowing at all and does not seem to follow from any of the other topics I have touched on in the last two weeks or so. Yes, I still have people on the brain but not as much as I possibly should have (or at least, as much as I used to). I have made a dent on the new year's resolutions, even booking some activities for further down the road but still nothing to chirp about every time I accomplish one little thing. And the job is going well; I like it, I love my colleagues, I wish I could be making a little more money but then again, who does not.

Nope, the only thing on my mind is the connections that you make and the connections that you break. I am thinking about the exes that are still "friends" in the virtual world but are not actually people I could imagine taking the time to meet should I ever be in the same place as that person. So why stay connected? Why remain in that person's life when that person has made it clear - through non-communication or other methods - that you are not in theirs.

But oddly enough, the connections I have made are important to me, even that ones that have been dropped or the ones that are tenuous at best. Staying connected is a good way of reminding me why they are not still in the inner circle. Staying connected is my quick and easy way of reminding myself (better than a pinch to the wrist) of what I need in my life and what I can do without. Connections, even the bad ones, are all about the world you live; about the world you choose to make for yourself.

Nine to Five

It is one of those days where the only thing on my mind is work: I came in early, sat through lunch at my desk - working on the latest problem, and now I am at home, taking a little break before I sit down to review some work I brought home and thinking about how early I want to get up and get in.

I have also had a nice chat with a fellow colleague about that feeling that you have become complacent in a job; about wanting the chance to seek out something that makes you happy and also makes you not want to keep seeking the ever elusive "next". About the skills we have and about how hard it sometimes is to just sit down and do the things we know we should, because we are somewhere safe and good. How sometimes being fired can be your best friend, because at least it forces you to find what it is you want.

And somewhere between these two extremes, I realized something. I love my job. It is hard and often thankless. It can get weary and sometimes, I want nothing more than to make a snide remark or just let someone know how I really feel. And most days, I can not. So I hold it in, vent to colleagues and bosses (the latter more rarely) and I suck it up. But for all that, I get a certain satisfaction from knowing that I am doing well. That I am still doing something I love - working in research - but at the same time, I am not tied to writing reports and running stats and all the things I loved but really could not see myself doing for the long haul. But just because I love what I do, I have realized it still does not mean that I should become complacent and just let the things I want - that ever onwards upwards better part of me - bask in this level of ennui.

Living Out Loud

It has been a quiet weekend; one of those weekends where all I want to do is just kick back and catch up on all the things that I have been putting off. For me, this weekend has been about relaxing at home, reading books that I am excited about (this time, it is revisiting some favorites), and enjoying some of the offerings on television. It truly has been a lazy weekend and I figure I can always make my weekend more exciting next week, when I am off for an extended break.

But this lazy weekend also has me thinking: am I staying true to my resolutions? I did say I would live my life, get out more often and enjoy all the activities and excitement out there. The thing is, I do not feel like I am somehow failing in my resolutions (not quite yet). I am a homebody at heart and have my moments where I want to be social and see other people but for the most part, this counts as a perfect weekend. I have not felt stressed by making plans and keeping plans; dealing with the craziness of Miami traffic, and all the myriad other things that causes my blood to boil on an almost daily basis.

But having spent this weekend at home, I am now happy to seek out some plans for next weekend. With a little planning and some friends who are free and willing to make a fun time of it. So perhaps this is the balance I have been looking for. A way to keep my resolutions, but not stray so far away from the things that also center me to the person that I am, the person that I have strived very hard to become. So, I am looking forward to planning some fun times next weekend and for the coming year. My social calender needs a little jolt and the only person who can supply the needed juice is myself. So, here is to jump starting my social life this new year; I will let you know how it goes.

KarmaChamelion

I have been thinking much too much recently, but some thing struck me recently. I probably need to provide a little backdrop, so here goes: It is a new year and I have decided that to stick to the resolutions that I have for myself this year, I have to make changes. Some changes are small - I am trying to eat better and while still not having made it to the gym (I blame it on the early mornings I have been putting in at work), I feel good about myself. I have made an effort to look more professional every day that I am work, which means more button downs and heels at work. And looking more professional to me also means making sure my make-up is in order, which recently has meant actually using foundation that I have invested in, instead of dialing it in with a light tinted moisturizer and some lip gloss.

And the small changes seem to make a big impression. Big enough that a couple of persons have asked me what is different about me. Because there seems to be something (according to friends and colleagues) but something that they can not seem to put their finger on. So, I have been riding this wave of being in a new year, of making it a great year, and sort of trying to work through all the feelings and thoughts I have been having about loved friends and friends I love (not the same thing). And I post to facebook an innocent little status about how amazing I am. The funny thing??? Some friends I have not heard from in ages, friends who seem to not communicate as much, came out of the woodwork and applauded (which on Fb is "liking") my current state of mind.

The thing is, it has made me consider that perhaps there is some truth to just believing that you are beautiful/smart/wonderful/wanted/etc/etc and the rest of the world seeing you that way. The people who know me, even if slightly, seem to respond well when I am most confident. When I am feeling down on life and down on myself?? Friends seem to be few and far between. At least, when I am being public about what I am feeling and thinking. So perhaps I need another resolution. One to project the lovely lovable person I am at all times; to believe that I am amazing and to make sure that those around me know it, because then maybe all the things that I am wanting and looking for in life just require an attitude adjustment.

The Fear

I have had the unfortunate opportunity today to have to be honest about things I normally do not really choose to speak of. Specifically, I have had to admit that I have fears and what those fears are and how those fears will sometimes stop me from functioning. It is not always pleasant to have to do so, especially not when you are admitting it to someone in power (or at least, power over you) but you know me - ask and I will tell.

The thing is, there is something inherently vulnerable about being open about your fears and giving a name to something that is not normally talked about. And it made me start thinking about fears. About the ones that are irrational but that we hold none the less. Mine, which I am not sure many people know, is large crowds and enclosed spaces. The strange thing is, I have not always had this fear. But during a difficult time in my life, I ended up somewhere and got overwhelmed by what I was feeling. Long story short, I was overwhelmed in a crowded, dark bar and needless to say, a modern fear is born. Perhaps the fear now is not about the place or the people but about the way I felt and not wanting to feel tat overwhelmed and out of control again.

I have other fears - not a big fan of cockroaches. Not just any bugs though; the kind that you find in the Caribbean. The ones that are about as long as a finger and comes out in packs. And most disturbingly, when you think you have the bug cornered, it suddenly flies! Flies! My skin crawls just thinking about it. I am not one to jump in the ocean (thank you Jaws!), not crazy about heights (thank you understanding the laws of gravity) and some other fears that would make me sound insanely neurotic without an explanation that is too detailed and too personal for even here.

But then I think about my friends. The friend who is afraid to fly and the one who is afraid of being socially awkward. The friend who thinks germs are every where and the friend who is afraid of never finding love. And to each and every one (including myself), that fear seems all important. But in the end, fear is just another way of letting us know what we consider to be so important that we would not want to just leave it to chance. For me, not being trapped by circumstance is my biggest fear. So I choose to avoid it in a manner that makes manifest sense. What is your fear?

Lucid Dreams

It has been a strange week: I have been these incredibly lucid dreams and I am not sure whether it is because I am taking some new medication (though looking back, I realize that being sick has made me rely on my nasal spray a lot more than usual) or because I am in some exciting phase of life where I need to have crazy dreams to get motivated to get off my bum and start making some changes.

What has been very bizarre is the weird interconnectedness of my dreams. See, my sleeping pattern the last week has been dream, wake, fall back to sleep, wake an hour later, fall back to sleep, dream a long scenario that wakes me up after about two to three hours having a problem differentiating between the waking state and the lucid dream, drop back to sleep, wake up, realize that it is much too early to be awake but also too little time to even contemplate sleep. I know, I know, sounds like a great sleeping pattern.

You would think all those periods of waking would mean interruptions in dreaming. But no. Instead, it is like one long, intertwining dream that makes me wonder what it all means. Take, for instance, last night's dream. I drove to Boston (woke up) and then decided that I needed to get in contact with my friend who lived in Boston because I had not seen him in a while and wanted to meet his wife and his baby but (wake up) could not call him because my phone had changed into an iPad and could not be changed back until I took it to my techy relative but by then, it was much too little time in Boston to see him but I tried calling. And at some point, I believe I logically thought I should just search for him house but did not have his address or any idea where he lived.

In the end, I woke up, was stuck on the phone bit of the dream and decided it was all my unconsciousness trying to tell me that I need to make more of an effort of keeping in touch, no matter what the circumstances, with the friends I love and miss. Makes sense, right?

Can't Get You Out of My Head

You know the one thing I hate about falling in like? The fact that at the most random times, you start thinking about the person you like. Whether it is because you have just checked your email/phone/facebook (or whatever other media you choose to communicate by) and that person as been in touch or just because something reminds you of them, without any external prods or pokes (and yes, that person might just be poking you on FB, but that is not what I am talking about).

So, now I fin myself thinking about people I like. I wish I could say there is one person that occupies my mind, but it is pretty crowded in there, and adding a few more persons is not going to make it any more so. So, yes, I have been thinking about the first person I really loved and how he still manages to make me smile and how glad I am that I am at a point where I can love him, without being in love with him. And it has taken a long time down a pretty difficult path for me to get to this point, with myriad detours, but still, I think its a good place.

I have been thinking about all the guys that I have fancied; the ones I have gone gaga for (why does going gaga suddenly no longer means the same thing???); the ones I have been stupid about. And I am glad that I could get so worked up over those guys who ended up not really meaning much in the long run. Because it meant I still managed to hang my heart out there and fall into like/love/lust (again, it really is sometimes hard to differentiate) and just make the most of living. Perhaps the best part - the part where suddenly someone means more to you that you thought possible and you are wondering if they maybe/possibly/might be feeling the same way.

I have been thinking about the people I dated that did not work out. And I have been thinking about where I am now and where they are now. And I have been smiling sometimes at differences that are in my favor. I know, it is all relative but sometimes, you look back and you look at where you are and you smile, because thank god, you managed to avoid - well, you managed to avoid. I think that it makes it clear.

Silence is Golden

My thoughts recently have tended to dwell on all the possibilities of love, but there is another stream of thought I have been engaging in and trying to work through and it is related to love, but not quite. The thing is, I had one of those moments recently where I thought I could use a bit of feedback from a friend to see whether I am over-thinking things or whether there just might be, maybe some type of glimmer. But in this case, the person I normally turn to, I am loathe to ask. Because she knows the situation too well for me to feel comfortable opening up in case it is all in my head. I am mocked often enough for so many other things I have done, I really do not need to add something else to the list.

So I thought about asking another friend of mine that I was close to when I was abroad, but that seemed futile as I have stopped making the effort after having received little to no input from her. I would ask my good guy friend but this needs a woman's understanding as guys can sometimes be a bit too straight forward with things. And then my mind wandered to asking a work colleague who has become a good friend. But again, I am loathe to ask because in the past few months or so, we have drifted apart...And that is what has made me start thinking about friendship.

The thing is, I tend to view the friends I make as people who are in my life for the long haul. I do not make friends easily, I confide even less so. And the people I do choose to confide in and share my thoughts and experiences with; well, I expect them to stay close. But I realize (and have before) that not everyone treats friendships the same way. For some, it is the thrill of the getting to know someone new and as soon as they are certain of the friendship, they treat you as someone who will always be about, no matter what may come. But like a fragile thing, friendships - in my estimation at least - need to be nurtured or the things that makes them great and beautiful withers and dies. And then there is just the ghost of what was.

I am not sure of the best way forward; I am not sure if there is a way forward other than keeping things as the status quo. These sorts of faint glimmers of a friendship once shared that is no longer. But it is times like these, when I could use a friend, that I find it hardest to say what I mean and to make my thoughts understood. And it is times like these, that I choose silence instead of words.

But the real dilemma for me, the point that I have been sticking on, is whether it is necessary to let someone know you just will not try anymore. If you have made your overtures to bring the friendship back, to be on the track you once were, and they get rebuffed - whether knowingly or not - are you obliged to be clear about why you choose to withdraw the friendship you so freely gave? Or is it acceptable to just pull away, and if the person ever comes asking (which I doubt will happen in this case), you can give them an answer with a clear conscience?

Drumming Song

I have a cycle. A pattern that I seem to follow. Something that I have noticed in my life, but never paid much attention to until recently. I guess as the new year has started and I have been thinking back over my life for the last couple of days/weeks, the pattern seems to be coming out much more clearer than I had ever though possible.

The thing is, I have this pattern of being indifferent to love. For a while. It can be weeks, it can be years. I am one of those people that does not mind being single. Hell, sometimes, I even prefer it. Once in a while I will miss the joy of being in a couple, normally when there are couple-ly activities to be engaged in (you know, not being the third wheel, etc.) but for the most part, I am pretty happy in my own company. And then someone comes along who gets me excited about love. Someone who makes my stomach churn and my heart beat a little faster. Someone who makes it harder to think straight, because any thinking I am doing is thoughts that circle back to that special person.

The thing is, that someone is never someone that I end up dating or falling in a mad romantic relationship with. It is always the person who reminds me what it means to be in love, to feel something for someone. That person, for want of a better analogy, is my appetizer. It is the individual who whets my appetite, reminds me how to play the dating game - to flirt, to be funny, to be social - and then I get loosed on the world and go on to have a fun time with others.

Nonetheless, just because I never acted on the love I felt or there really was nothing there in the end between two people, every guy who has helped me to rediscover emotion and love and all the other things that go along with falling in like/lust/love has been incredibly important to me. Because alot of what follows after in my life would not have happened without the initial note; that initial heart pounding, gut wrenching feeling I felt when I thought of that special someone. I guess this is my way of saying how important a crush can be, even when a crush does not get you further than a couple of evenings spent in joyful company.

Dream a Little Dream

In the spirit of trying to keep up with my new year's resolutions, I am on here offering a little update, mainly because I am a bit fuddled. I jumped out of bed this morning and the phrase that lept to mind as I woke up was "L'Wren Scott". Why? I have no idea. I was not dreaming of being a fashion designer nor am I aspiring to be a fashionista (though I try to at last be stylish in my own way) but the name just ran through my mind.

So, as I am springing out of bed, this name runs through my mind and I had to pause for a moment. It made absolutely no sense since I have been dreaming about being at a very strict boarding school and all other weird sorts of young adult girl fiction and it was even more confusing as I had him confused for Christopher Wren, who I could imagine having popped into mind since I was just reading up on the rebuilding of London after the great fire and had also read Hawksmoor (a lovely book if you have not delved into it) not too long ago. But no, confusing designers with long dead architects not good.

Random, but wanted to mention...

Auld Lang Syne

Well, a new year is upon us and I thought this would be a good place to write about the resolution that I am making for this. In the spirit of adding one more year, I am going beyond the usual ten resolutions and making eleven resolutions for 2011. Here is working through them and possibly, stick to the ones that matter.

1: I will make it to the gym more times this year than I have in the past. Considering I have only made it to the gym zero times in the last two months, this one should be pretty easy to keep. Well, that's a lie. I did make it to the gym one during the last two months; not to work out, but to update my membership information and to chat to one of the staff that I have made friends with and see how his Thanksgiving had been. So, the list is off to a decent start.

2: This year, I plan to take more risks. I have been happy to stay in a state of suspended animation, thinking that in three years time, my real life starts again. I have been feeling like my life here is the filler in the plot - just something to move along from the good bits at the start to all the gooder bits at the end. So, I have been content to just skate along and not really take any direction when I am here. But that has to change and this year, I am going to strive to be more present in my life. Because if the world really does end in 2012, I want something to say I have lived.

3: I plan to learn how to let go this year. There are people and things that I have been hanging on to because of what they meant to me in the past or how they made me feel. But the thing is, these friends and acquaintances are not hanging on to me. No reciprocation, no thought, and I need to let that go. I am already reminded of all the things I miss by the great friends I have who make the effort; why would I want to be reminded of all the things I miss AND feel like something that is easily passed over by all the people who can't be bothered to take the time? So, it is time to just let go. And to let go graciously. No tears, recriminations, or regrets. Never regrets.

4: I plan to realize what is important. I have been treating everyone I know the same way - the people that I really care about and the people I just know. And that has to change. No more excuses about not having the time or the inclination, the cash or the any other myriad things I can say I lack to explain the fast that I have not made the effort except for those rare bursts of me-ness. So, no more excuses for the people who really. The cards will be sent on time, the gifts wrapped and put aside well in advance. I will make the engagements that are planned and when I can't, it will be because I am close to death's door and not leaving the house for anyone, not even the man of my dreams.

5: Speaking of the man of my dreams, I plan to act on them. I am going to listen to my dreams, and by extension - my feelings, more. It all goes with the taking risks part of my resolutions but this is even more so risky for me. The girl who does not do well with commitment or love or emotional entanglement. All the labels I have given myself over the past years and believe to be true. I know some of them are, like the fact that I don't do well with commitment. But it is not that I have a roving eye and hands, but rather, I like my space. I like my downtime and I feel like commitment takes away from that. But if someone should come along (or already has), then I need to learn how to balance my needs with all the possibilities that abound.

6: I plan to travel more. I still have not made my trip back to London yet, but this year, I will. Even if it means hoping a flight at the last minute on the last day of this year, I plan to spend time abroad among the folks I love and in a land that I call home. But even before that, I plan to go places. To book a hotel room on a weekend night and go out and enjoy myself in Florida. Make plans for the summer with friends from afar and perhaps even finally make it to Mardi Gras and New Orleans to engage in some debauchery amongst good company.

7: To write more letters. This ties in with some of the earlier resolutions, but I was reminded recently how powerful the written word is and how moving it can be, flaws and all, to write a proper letter. So for the things that really matter, no more emails or quick notes via any of the possible media. It is a letter, sent by snail mail, to remind people that I love them and that I am thinking of them.

8: I resolve to be better with my finances this year. Sure, I am doing okay with putting aside cash for retirement and making a steady dent, which is about right given that I am already thirty-ish, but I need to make other dents. I need to do more saving, less spending. I need to be smart about what I am buying and what I need. I need to learn how to just say no when I do not have the funds to go out and to start planning more activities that let me spend time with those I care for without being pricey.

9: I plan to read more and read often. I want to expand the genres that I am willing to dip into and to find great new authors I might not have read otherwise. I want to read across all genres and all epochs, but most importantly, I want to read more. No more excuses about not having enough time. I have time; I just need to be better organized about it.

10: I plan to spend less time online. My life should not be lived on here, but out there. And I have forgotten that. I have spent weekends tracking all the things my friends are doing, dropping in with pithy comments or just frittering time away playing mindless games but no more. Online is for the update of what I plan to be doing or just did in real life. A chance to check in with people and then pop off to enjoy the real thing.

11: But at the same time, I plan to be better about logging in and updating the blog, even if it is just a line a day. Because I want my friends to know all the latest with me, including what I am thinking. Because I sometimes need feedback and I sometimes need someone else to step in and calm the insanity that is my mind in turmoil. And how will you know unless I say?