Dating in the Dark

I am sitting here, minding my own business, drinking a glass of white, having just finished a chicken burger from Trader Joe's that I cooked up on the grill and ate on toast, not having hamburger buns in the house. I am reading my Entertainment Weekly magazine, an issue of which I have not missed in about 10 years. And there's a little note, under the Summer TV Preview section, about a new show called "Dating in the Dark."

Yes, this is exactly as it sounds to you. A reality show in which two people "meet in the dark room to get to know each other emotionally and physically, while viewers watch via night vision." Then they turn on the lights.

Great. Just great. This is where we are as a society. And, before you even say it, I realize that there are a lot of other things that could make me question where we are as a society other than this. So shut up.

Course, the little EW blurb goes on to say that the executive producer of this show says that these folks in the dark room form a connection, but do looks change that? And EW says "We're gonna go with yes." This, dear friends, is the problem.

The show has set us up to further realize that looks are the end all and be all of everything. And this being television, they are going to find the hottest dude ever who has the personality of a noodle or a velocaraptor, have the normal, fine looking chick hate him, then the lights come on, she changes her mind, and the ass decides she's not good looking enough for him. And they'll definitely have the total dork guy or the woman who isn't even as overweight as I have been, and their partner-to-be will love them, declare them the best kisser ever and will get one look and back out.

All proving to all those young, impressionable girls and boys out there that in the end, it doesn't matter a whit whether you're nice, or smart, or have a super personality. And even worse, it'll prove to all those unpartnered 20- and 30-somethings out there that they're justified to reject the person they really dug over email or on the phone the minute they get a look at them (even if they, themselves have some relatively good sized flaw either physically or otherwise).

It's embarrassing. And disgusting. And it's shit for those of us out here still looking, in the dark, for someone who gets us.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe this show will be the best thing ever and people will overcome their prejudices and go home with the girl with acne to live happily ever after. Maybe. But I won't be watching to find out.

Note: Half-way through writing this post, I thought to myself "Who are you? Don't you judge guys by what they look like? Haven't you rejected someone because they were just too much of a dork for you?" And then I tried to figure out what to do. Go back and insert a paragraph? Write a disclaimer about how I too have done this? Psychoanalyze myself about why I do that and then try to either justify it or explain it away by society's influence? Then I decided to just name it here. Say I've done it. I'll do it again. We all do. But let's not make it voyeuristic. It hurts every time someone does it to me. Or you. So let's not watch it happen to other people.

FitCamp

This morning, I lunge walked up and down the basketball court in front of Stony Brook T station in the South West Corridor Park at 6 a.m. After that, I ran back to the other side, and then walked back down the court, raising one leg in the air touching the toes with the opposite hand like a tin soldier, alternating legs. Then I squatted down, put my elbows inside my knees, raised one arm, then the other, and then stood up. Repeatedly. Then I did 5 divebombers, which is where you put your hands and feet on the ground with your butt in the air (downward facing dog for you yogis) and then lower yourself down using your arms but without your body touching the ground and then up again.

That was the first 10 minutes.

After that, I got inside a giant rubber band (literally - a giant rubber band) with another person. She braced herself while I ran back and forth in the band touching her knee, alternating sides for 20 seconds. Then she went. Next I turned sideways while she stayed frontwards to brace and I side-walked back and forth, with my body low and knees bent back and forth. Then we turned so my back was to her and I ran in place, back and forth closer to her and further away. All while fighting the resistance of the band.

My awesome trainer is the only fully certified trainer for the full bands (not the kind with the handles) on the East Coast! And she loves to show us how good she is!

Then we had to do wall jumps. Literally jump with both feet from the ground up onto the stone wall. My guess? A foot and a half? Two feet? Not sure. I just know every time I jumped, I wondered if I would miss and crack my face open. I didn't. We alternated that with arm presses with the bands again. Three rounds. Then we had to do wall push-ups. Hands on the ground, feet on the wall. Push up. For 30 seconds. Sure, right. Push-ups are one of the only things that I can't even fake doing. I held the position most of the time for those.

There was a bunch more stuff after that. I can't even remember all of it. Then we finished up with "burpy" runs. What the hell, you ask, is that? We had to run the length of the court, then do 3 burpys, then run, 2 burpys, then run, 1 burpy, then run, 1 burpy. A burpy is going down into the push-up position, then keeping your hands on the ground, jump to your feet being under your chest, then finally, jump up into the air! Crazy.

I am a total convert to FitCamp. I've convinced a friend to join me for the June session. I am perhaps going to go bankrupt staying in this program. Although, it's actually pretty affordable. Two weeks ago, I could barely walk because my quads hurt so much. Now I'm much better now, except today my lower back hurts (must be from all that impact of jumping up on a wall). I love my trainer. She's no nonsense, but has the ability to read when you need a bit of motivation "Go, Karen!" or prodding "Keep it high! Keep working!" She plans out the workouts - they're in a notebook. (I'm a big fan of people who don't wing it.)

Join us in JP June 1 - 26, MWF, 6-7 a.m. Sign up here. It's the best $150 (for 12 sessions! a bargain!) you'll ever spend!

Resiliance & Grace

Four months today. Four. Since my world supposedly crashed down around me. That's what it felt like. And two months later, it still felt like that. But here, here on the mark of four months, it feels almost like that never happened. Like it was a story someone told me. (Perhaps this is an indication that I'm not in touch with my emotions enough?)

I still wonder. And I still have moments of extreme sadness. And I still think about when the inevitable "bumping into" will happen. But those moments are fewer. And they're farther between now.

Resilience is a skill. A talent. A blessing. And I've always had it. Thank god. Grace is also a skill. A talent. A blessing. I've not always had it. I'm learning it, though. To take things with it. To understand things with a sense of it. To move through world with some. It'll come.

Waiting? Or not?

Any minute now my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
And I'll stand on the bow
And feel the waves come crashing
Come crashing down, down, down on me

And you said,"Be still, my love
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in"
Don't you understand?
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

When I awoke today suddenly nothing happened
But in my dreams I slew the dragon
And down this beaten path
And up this cobbled lane
I'm walking in my own footsteps once again

And you say,"Just be here now
Forget about the past
Your mask is wearing thin"
Let me throw one more dice
I know that I can win
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

Any minute now my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
And I'll check my machine
There's sure to be that call
It's gonna happen soon, soon, oh so very soon
It's just that times are lean

And you say,"Be still, my love
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in"
Don't you understand?
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

Hey heyeyeyeyey
Hey yeeeeeee
Hey heyeyeyeyey
Eeh eeh eeh eeh eh

On a clear day
I can see, see for a long way

On a clear day
I can see, see a very long way

-Colin Hay Band | Listen here.

Some Randomness

All week, I kept thinking that I hadn't posted in a while and that I should write about "fill in the blank thought of the moment." Then I'd get caught up doing something else and I'd never login and actually write. So here I am on April 17 and I haven't posted since March 20. I actually don't know the longest break between posts on this blog, but I'd venture to say this might be it.

So, since I can't remember anything I thought of this week to write about, here's some random thoughts:

- I'm in Houston visiting my sister, her husband and my niece for the occasion of my niece's first birthday. I can't believe she's been here for a whole year. It feels like she's been around a lot longer, but also feels like almost no time at all at the same time. She's hilarious and smart and sweet. I'm so glad to be able to be here for her birthday.

- I have decided that I am way too busy. It is very rare that I have a weeknight without something scheduled into it. Now, many of those things are social in nature: dinner with friends, a date here and there; and some of them are gym-natured: yoga on Wednesday nights. Some are work-based: an evening obligation, a board meeting and such, but I just can't figure out how I used to have so much time free. I don't anymore. And now that I'm up most mornings to go to the gym, I try to go to bed a lot earlier, so I feel like I have even less time.

- Community theatre is great. I finally saw a show at the Footlight in JP (which claims to be the oldest community theatre in the United States) and it was great. Gypsy, which I'd never seen before.

- FaceBook is a little addictive. And I really like it. The anthropological side of it: why do some people post a status update every few hours while others never do? is very interesting.

- I continue to love the gym. But my left knee hurts most of the time. So I might be forced to start wearing the neoprene brace I have to the damn gym. This is annoying to me.

- I am running a 5K in Groton, MA next weekend with my friend Sara. There's a good chance I won't be able to pull it off. Even though I have been exercising for months, every day, and I can run 5 miles at the gym, I have yet to run outdoors. I am psychologically tortured by the idea that it is harder and I will fail. I also haven't prescribed to any 5K training, either. I've just worked out every day. So, we'll see. If it's a huge joke, I will certainly begin an actual training regimen so I can do the 5K on June 7 and not embarrass myself.

- I am trying to figure out how I spent almost $2000 on credit cards between March 15 and April 15. Holy cow. That is way over what I usually spend in a month. There were quite a few big purchases on there (a flight, a rafting trip, mom and dad's day gifts, my niece's bday gift, etc.) but still!

- My roommate and I determined recently that we are both super happy in our place and we're planning on signing the lease again in September. I'm very pleased about this.

- I ditched Verizon (effers!) and moved to Sprint. I have a Lotus phone and I love it.

- Obama is going to sign the Ted Kennedy/Serve America Act during volunteer week next week. This is super awesome news!

- Obama also finally got his daughters their dog this week, and ended up getting it from Ted Kennedy instead of a shelter. He has taken surprisingly little flack over this.

- I hosted Flat Jack (like Flat Stanley, but a version of my friend Melissa's son Jack) in Boston for a week. I took him all around Boston and then added the photos to his scrapbook. He went to Switzerland, Scotland, Boston, NYC and Vegas on his travels. Such a cool geography lesson for little kids.

- I am already beginning to prepare to mourn the loss of Lost when it ends next year (I think it's next year). It is the single most awesome media experience I have ever had. I love to watch it, I love to think about it. I think it's rad.

- Adventureland was great. Greg Mottola is great. I loved it.

- Boston Restaurant Week makes me happy.

- It seems like spring is never coming. Apparently I missed a real spring day today in Boston, which would've been the first real one.

- I planted my garden last week. Scallions, zucchini, cukes, green beans, radishes, green peppers, basil, rosemary, and parsley. Then it got down into the 30s at night. Now all the little seeds might be frozen to death. If nothing ever grows, I may have to completely replant. Bah.

- Family dinners have begun. They are once a month on Sunday afternoons and involve my dad's side of the family: cousins, aunts, uncles. I am hosting on May 3 and we are headed over into the Arboretum for the lilacs first before dinner. Fun!

- Men continue to be confused about appropriate behavior. Evidenced by my and friends continued dating experiences.

- I'm trying to figure out how often I need to replace my sneakers. I think every 6 months will do if I keep up this rigorous gym-going.

- Bella Luna/Milky Way in JP has closed. So sad. But it will reopen it its new iteration soon at the Brewery. So happy.

- I will attempt to be better at posting here as summer progresses.

I get it now

Every time I read one of those reports about a celebrity that says they work out 2 hours a day or that they lost their baby weight because they worked out 5 hours a day, I would think, "Impossible!" "Ridiculous!" "Who could possibly do that? Or want to?" And my thoughts are never about having the time to do it. Now, obviously, your average Joanne worker woman in the U.S. does not have 2-5 hours a day to exercise. But celebrities do. But I always thought, even if I had that much time, I would never, ever exercise that much.

I've seen the light.

I wish I had even 90 minutes to exercise each day. Now, of course, I could stop doing a lot of other things and only work out. I could go in the morning and again at night. I could go at 9 p.m. or some such crazy time if I had something to do after work. But that, my friends, is what we call obsession at best and addiction at worst. And that is not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about leisure. The ability to have a bit more time to walk to and from the gym instead of driving. Or to be able to go for a big, long walk around the JP pond as well as go to yoga class. That kind of thing.

I have been exercising every day for about 3 months now. This is not a long time. A lot of people have been exercising every day for 3 years or 13 years or 30 years. This is not a competition. This is about me, a relatively active person who has also been relatively sedentary for my entire life. Going to the gym every day for 3 months is an accomplishment over here in these parts. And, I am exercising smartly. I vary what I am doing, I don't forget about the value of strength training and weight work, I am trying out new machines (I have a torrid love affair going with the rowing machine and the arc trainer!). I spend between 50 and 60 minutes at the gym most days, mostly at 5:30 or 6 in the morning. I have also managed to fit in 1-2 yoga classes each week most weeks.

Every time I get going, I am just too tired. I just got out of bed, it's still dark, I didn't get to bed until after 10 p.m. The first 5 minutes of whatever I'm doing is killer. But then my heart gets going, and I begin to sweat. My legs feel strong, and the songs on my shuffle never do me wrong. And as I watch the clock, the minutes tick by, I start to get sorry that I'll have to leave soon. I stood there yesterday, holding onto a support pole in my old brewery gym doing a quad stretch and said to myself "This is why Jennifer Aniston can workout so much. Because it feels amazing." It's like drugs. Really. It is. Endorphins are powerful little buggers, living right inside of me. And finally, I've let them out to do their job.

Twelve pounds, a bunch of inches and wearing clothes that haven't fit in over 2 years are side benefits. The real value is in knowing I'm helping my health over the long term. Well, that and the high. I'll never turn down a high.

Spring-tastic!

I have found that the older I get, the more happy Springtime arriving makes me.

My (Boring) (Adventuresome) Life

People often comment on what an adventurous life I live. I travel to weird places by most people's standards. I book myself on cool trips, find people to go with me, give trips as gifts as a secret way to do stuff, and sometimes even go alone (see dogsledding in Maine, kayaking Casco Bay, canoeing on the Charles, lighthouse climbing in Boston Harbor, whitewater rafting the Kennebec, zip-lining in NH). I find interesting hobbies, have interesting friends, volunteer, and engage in my community.

All of that is true. To be honest, though, I feel pretty boring most of the time. I have purposely created as simple a life as possible in order to reduce drama and stress. Mostly, I succeed at that. I have a lovely little apartment on a lovely little street near lots of greenspace, but still in the city with a lovely roommate who I really like. Neither of us own a lot of things and there's little clutter in our home. I have a simple little car (and a simple little loan to pay for it) that is easy to navigate, easy to park and easy to maintain. I have a small group of regular friends who don't contribute drama to my life. They are loving and caring and like to drink beer and host potlucks and talk about politics and movies.

I go to work, volunteer, go to the gym (these days), make a healthy dinner, occasionally bake something, check my email, write a blogpost now and again, watch Lost online (my simple life has resulted in no cable TV), and go for a walk in the park near my house. I gossip much less than I used to, I avoid "Did you hear about..." talk as much as possible, and I attempt to not create drama for other people as much as possible.

Unfortunately, this is not how I used to be. I used to love gossip (as long as I wasn't spreading lies and other people were not aware I was talking behind their backs, why did it hurt them?). I used to be in the center of the "Did you hear about..." discussion. I still harbor these tendencies, way down inside the teenager that still lives in a little room in my heart and always will. Last year, I had a friend who was full of drama. He claimed he wasn't. Claimed an allergy to it. Sure - to other people's drama. But he swirled in it - bathed in it every day. Created it at every turn. He complicated everything. And I got sucked in. Him going away has reverted me back to my days pre-him. And it feels weird.

And so, here I am, in my simple life, wondering if I've done something wrong to not have more action happening in my life at my age. I have just gotten fully engaged on FaceBook, and I've reconnected with lots of folks. Now, I'm not saying their lives are complicated or filled with drama, but they have kids and homes and husbands and wives and in-laws and all sorts of craziness going on. I don't have any of that. And I'm glad. Don't get me wrong. But am I somehow less mature - less developed - because I don't? And should I be somehow doing more? If Becky has a child and a job and a husband, and she just opened her own baking company on the side, what am I doing with my time? Shouldn't I somehow be saving the world or something amazing? What I'm doing is baking chocolate macaroons and finishing reading Revolutionary Road in a day and a half. Nice for me, but significant?

I'm not sure I even believe any of those thoughts in that paragraph up there. But there the ones that have been parading (uninvited, I might add), through my head all week. Part of me, the big part, I should clarify, is really pleased with simplicity. I hope to hang on to it for the rest of my life. This other little part, probably the part that still listens to that teenage self in my heart, is wondering when the BIG will happen and what it'll be.

And while all these thoughts are happening, I'm hatching my Mother and Father's Day adventure-trip gifts for this year and looking forward to that rafting trip in May. And spring. Bring on spring! The parks look lonely out there in my neighborhood! Simple tasks, simple anticipation, simple requests. That all feel really good.

Wishing for a Visit to Mars

I am a woman who is meant to have male friends.

In high school, many of my closest friends were boys. When I left college, which I loved every minute of, and am still very glad I had the extraordinary experience of a women's education, my first close friend in grad school was a man. When I moved to LA, one of my three closest friends there was a man. In Thailand, my closest friend was a man. I have always, up until two and a half years ago, had men in my workplace who I thoroughly enjoyed (they tended to be married or gay, but they were men, nonetheless).

I miss this very much. My one close male friend left Boston last summer. I miss him. And then I just lost the closest male friend I've had in a long time. And he was truly male. In every sense of the word and I loved having that again.

I know that part of the reason I lament being single as much as I do is because I really really dig maleness and having it in my every day existence. I also want a partnership and to be loved, but on a base level, part of that is wanting maleness in my life.

I am in a field that is dominated by women. Ninety percent of the meetings I attend in and out of my office are filled with women. And the one or two men who happen to be in some of them tend to operate in a female-dominated field in a way that downplays their maleness. I work with 12 other people, only one of whom is a man. Everyone who works for me is a woman. I hire them. And I can't find AmeriCorps members who are men very easily. Believe me, I try.

I love my women friends. Deeply and madly. Women are allowed to have friendships that are intimate and special, and I wouldn't trade this for anything. I would never want to be a man, because then I'd have to give up the way I understand friendship as a woman. I love my sister and my mother more than anything. I am very pleased my first aunt experience is to a girl. I understand that better.

But I want testosterone around me. I want to have a man's way of knowing on my Board of Directors. I want that back. I had it for a full year, in a very intense manner. I explained what was going on, and he saw the situation in an entirely different way, just because he is in possession of a penis. I swear it's that simple. Men just see things differently, know them differently, and solve them differently.

I do not miss this man who wronged me. I don't miss him. But I sure miss his maleness. I want that back. My brother is great, but he's my brother; not the same. And I have all these family friends who are men, but they too, are family.

Men and women, it's said, aren't meant to be friends. The Harry Met Sally syndrome and all. Yeah, yeah. And that's mostly true. I have a terrible history of falling for my male friends. I know. But the ones who are married or gay or otherwise engaged have been godsends to me. And I wish for one, long for one, right now. Tonight. To drink a beer and talk. In a boy-man-way. A way that's a treat for me. A way that's not my default. A way that feels interesting and comfortable and a little bit racy.

I'm can't just order it up, though, can I? Shit.

Running: Who Knew?

I have never liked to run. In junior high, when we had to run the mile for the Presidential Fitness program, I refused to do it. I walked. But you have to finish in 15 minutes or something like that, so I had to run part of it at the end. I hated every minute of the damn thing.

There's a 2 mile road race before my hometown's 4th of July Parade that raises money for a scholarship fund in the name of a childhood friend's brother, who was killed when we were all still in high school. I've done it a number of times through the years, but I've always walked it, on purpose.

I played soccer when I was 10 - 12 or thereabouts. I quit after that. So much running.

I got yelled at in gym class routinely through my entire school life for not fulling participating, especially when the activity required running.

I was practically the tallest girl in the 9th grade and the gym teacher / coach tried to recruit me for basketball. You kidding me?

I was never overweight in school, ever. Not till college did my family genetics catch up with me, and even then, I've never been more than 30 pounds overweight, and on my 5'10" frame, I can (mostly) carry it off. And, I'm active in other ways. I ski, I dived for years, I love to canoe, raft, do adventure stuff like bungee jump, dogsled, zipline, etc. I am also a city-dweller, so I walk a lot. A tank of gas typically lasts me a few weeks and I have a 12 minute walk on the front end of my commute and an 8 minute walk on the back end, reversed on the way home. I often go walking in my neighborhood (which has a huge pond with a 1.5 mile walkway around it and a huge Arboretum, which includes two good-sized hills).

I have only been a religious gym-goer one other time in my life, when I lived in LA, and that was because everyone in LA is a poser in one way or another, and I really wanted to stay thin while I was living there. For the record, it didn't work. I was fit, but gained weight just the same while living there because I was eating like a pig, as usual. I have also dieted my way out of those 30 extra pounds a few times over the last decade, using Weight Watchers mostly, and skipping the exercise, since I hate it so much.

I have used every excuse in the book. Here's a few: Exercise doesn't work for me, it's all about what I eat. I hate to run. I hate the gym. I won't get up in the morning. I like to be outside too much.

I decided just after Christmas to give the gym another go. I thought I was going for the classes: affordable yoga is almost impossible to find. And I needed something to relax me, and perhaps help with toning my body a bit. At the same time, I made an attempt to stop eating so much and so frequently and so much bad shit (my sweet tooth is the bane of my existence). I started going. And I jumped on the treadmill, being such a good walker and all. I could walk forever, really.

And I ran.

And I almost died. I said to myself, "If you can run 5 minutes in a row, you can stop." And this was at a 13-minute-mile pace. And I ran those 5 horrible minutes and I stopped. That week, I went to yoga and went to the gym every day. I rode the bike, walked a lot, and even did the elliptical machine.

The next week, I convinced myself to run a whole mile. And I did it. I hated it, and I sweated more than I've sweated in a long time. But at the end, I felt accomplishment. A sense of "I can do this!"

By the fourth week, almost to the one-month day of when I began going to the gym, I ran 3 miles. And I did it in just over 32 minutes. I was amazed. Holy cow. I can do this. I can run. And it feels amazing. That first mile's a killer, and the second one tries to convince you the whole time to stop, just stop! But that third one, it's easy. Really.

So now I'm running three miles about three times a week. Some days are easier than others. Last week, one morning, I could barely convince myself to keep going, and had to walk part of the second mile in order to push through the third. But three days later, I got on there and ran three like it was my job. And yesterday I ran three miles in only 31 minutes. I've even gone past the three-mile mark and done 3.5, but have to get off for someone waiting or because I'm going to be late for work.

My goals now? Run 5 miles by the 4th of July. Run outside once the weather gets nicer and see if I can actually run 3 miles outside (big difference between the treadmill and the street). Enter a 5K and run it by the end of the summer.

Dream goals that I'm not ready to commit to yet? Run a 5-mile roadrace by the fall. Train for a sprint-trialthalon for next spring (1/2 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 3 mile run). God only knows if I'll follow through on this long enough for those to become a reality. Time will tell.

In the meantime, running's like drugs. I tried to figure out how I could get to the gym today. There's no way. I left the house at 7 a.m. for an 8 a.m. meeting and my last meeting of the day will get out at 9 tonight, getting me home by 9:40. For a minute and a half, I considered trying to get to the gym by 9:30 for a 30 minute run before they close at 10. No way I'm gonna make that, but I thought about it.

And my body's changing. My legs are more powerful. The celluite is slowly disappearing. My ass is smaller. Jeans that have been in my drawer for a year or more fit again. I like the idea that my body might sculpt itself differently than it ever has before.

And I'm keeping the yoga. All this running needs to be countered by strength and relaxation. The balance will keep me healthier.

And those calories? I'm staying away from the cookies for the most part, making a three-pieces-of-fruit smoothie each morning, and keeping the beer to a minimum. Because what goes in my mouth still matters. But now exercise does too. Another great balance.

The powers of three-year-olds

I went today to visit my friend Sara and her three kids (and her husband, too). They are a lovely family and are doing really well. We try to make sure to see each other at least once a month since we lived so far from each other for so many years, and here we both are, full circle, both close to where we started.

Her daughter is full of life and has been verbal from before she could talk. Today, Sara told me a story that happened last Tuesday. Her daughter was having a not-so-good morning and Sara was reprimanding her for whatever transgression. Caroline, in a fit of anger, said to Sara "Your day is cancelled!" HOW AWESOME!

Imagine if we could just cancel someone else's day? Just take it away from them as punishment? We'd never need any other power, because that one would just be the end-all-and-be-all! And, on a twist, I have to say I'd love the ability to cancel my own day once and a while too. Just have a break, but nobody's expecting me anywhere, because my day doesn't exist. It's just been cancelled.

Apparently about a year ago, when Caroline was still only 2 and a half, she once said to Sara, "Get out of my mood!" Which is also not only clever, but totally sums up what we grown-ups need to do for each other sometimes.

Children are wise. Why do we unlearn that?

36

I am 36. I am still in my mid-thirties. (Yes. I am. No. 36 is not late-thirties. No, I'm not listening. It's not.)

Fun facts about the number 36 are available easily, as is all other knowledge of the world, on Wikipedia, of course. I harvested these three from all the others.

First:

36 is the number of degrees in the angle of all 5 tips in a perfect star.

Ah, perfect things. A perfect star. Drawn with a protractor. From 1982. When I was 9.

Second:

36 is the sum of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8.

Well, that's just cool. And nice and round. And happily mathematical.

Third:

The sum of 1+2+3+...+36 is 666.

Great. The sign of the devil. Hmmm...

Darlin' Do Not Fear

Through Pandora, I discovered Brett Dennen. I love him. His songs are simple and sweet. This one was just playing, and I really heard it for the first time. I do that, you know, don't really listen to a song, even one I've heard again and again. Anyway, this one is apropos this week.

These are excerpts. The song is Darlin Do Not Fear What You Don't Really Know.
Listen here, but don't watch, because the hand held camera will make you sick. :)

From its place on the mantle my heart and was taken down
scattered in a thousand little pieces on the ground
And out below the street lamp like an orphan with a halo
Darlin' do not fear what you don't really know

'cause it won't last - the worries will pass
All your troubles they don't stand a chance
And sometimes it takes more than a lifetime to know
Darlin' do not fear what you don't really know

If you have a broken heart or a battered soul
Find something to hold on to or to let go
to help you through the hard nights like a flask filled with hope
Darlin' do not fear what you don't really know

I will

Bad things sometimes are done to good people. The key is, though: the bad thing was created by someone else. So the good person (me, in this case) doesn't own it. It isn't mine. I am affected by it, but it's not mine. So moving on from it is easier.

I had a relationship this year with someone I came to love. We started out dating, I broke it off because it wasn't working, I went back looking for friendship, I discovered a lie, I left for "good", I sought the friendship again, I thought the friendship had potential to be a relationship again, and I found out the entire thing had been a lie, from the start.

It's been quite the journey. And difficult. There're details that are mind-blowing; details that are disgusting; details that are shocking; details that are just plain sad. Sufficed to say, though, that the details aren't really important any more. I've had my fill of details.

I am okay. Good, even. It has been 11 days since I learned that I'd been duped, tricked into thinking something existed that didn't. It's been 11 days since I learned that some people are ill. I knew this, of course, but I'd not had a relationship with anyone who has a real disorder before. It's powerful stuff.

It is the big picture that is important now. This is the big picture as I understand it today:

- I am a loving, trusting, pure-of-heart person. (Not to say I'm naive, because I'm not; purity is something different. I use that word to mean that I always have good intentions, my interactions with others are always organic, my emotions are always available to myself and others, and I do not possess the ability to hurt another person on purpose, nor to I have the ability to understand how others can do so.)

- I have a deep desire to be in a partnership with a man, but that hasn't presented itself to me yet in a real way. I need to be increasingly careful to not see potential where it isn't because of this desire.

- I trusted someone who shouldn't have been trusted. I had no way of knowing that he didn't deserve my trust. So none of this is my fault.

- I am not willing to give up who I am at my core, so I will trust again. Some might see this as wanton at best or stupid at worst. I am not really interested in a tempered version of myself and so, I will trust.

- Karma is very powerful. Whenever I've said in the past that the Universe is watching over me and I listen to its messages, I really mean Karma. That my behavior and intentions are so honest and open that Karma helps me get what I need. I believe this is why things come easier to me, why I often find myself in the right place at the right time, and why my life is simple, clean, and beautiful. Karma will work out what needs to be worked out in this case without my intervention.

- I have truly wonderful friends and family. Ones who listen to me, love me, understand me, and are protective of me. They are willing to hug me, cry with me and hold my hand when I need it. They are patiently waiting for me to laugh again.

- I have a honed ability to process information, evaluate my emotions, gather information from inside myself, and move forward in ways that are useful and healthy. I have exercised this ability numerous times in my life, and it has served me especially well this time around.

I realize this post is cryptic. I realize, dear reader, that you aren't getting the whole story. But my intention in this post is to outline the future, not get bogged down in the past.

So, as I move through another January and into a new year, I will walk tall, with my given confidence and belief in myself. I will slowly stop wondering why. I will stop glancing back and instead I will look forward. I will continue to do yoga two or three times a week because it is as good as therapy. I will start to want to eat again. I will laugh, loudly and obnoxiously once again.

I will.

Dogsledding!

Okay, the dogsledding.

Back in, oh, I don't know, September, I began poking around looking for a winter trip. It was probably right when I got back from Canada, as I tend to get itchy for the next trip right after I've come home from one. I have no idea how I landed on dogsledding, except that I was looking for winter trips and women's trips. There was a 5-day 5-star extravaganza in Minnesota. It was snowshoeing, dogsledding, cross country skiing, lodge-with-a-jacuzzi all rolled into one. And required a flight into Deluth and then a rental car. It would've cost upwards of $3000. I considered it for a half a second.

Then it dawned on me that there is probably dogsledding in Maine. And viola! there it was Mahoosuc Guide Service. I contacted Polly, asked a few questions, and had quickly booked the full-moon trip for an overnight in January.

I arrived after a leisurely drive up through NH and Maine that took most of Friday. I checked into the lodge they offer on their property, which is gorgeous. Polly and Kevin (the couple who own and run the business) built it themselves. It has a large common room with kitchen and living room, and two bunk rooms each with a bathroom. It was a like a really nice dorm. I had a nap and then went over to the main house for the meeting. We got all the gear we needed (boots, parkas, mucklucks, and bits and pieces like mittens, etc.) We met as a group.

The players:

Erol and Laurie from Northern VA (last year they went ice climbing!)
Paul and his 12 year old Sevi and 12 year old friend Dario
Mike and his 12 year old Margot and 12 year old friend Sarah
Me

The staff:

Polly, owner
Bonnie, ski guide (older retired woman)
Dan, college kid working with Polly over break
Eliot, 12 year old local kid helping with the puppies

We set off Saturday morning after meeting the dogs, leading them to the dog transport truck, which looks like this:



We drove for a while and dropped off those in the group who would sled in. The skiing group then carried on. After getting ourselves sorted out, we put on cross country skis, donned our packs on our backs, and set out for the 5 mile journey to camp. We were Bonnie the ski guide, Paul (one of the dads) who pulled a toboggan the whole way, Eliot the local kid, and three puppies in dog sledding training who just ran free with us. It took us 3.5 hours to get there, and I fell about 8 times. I've never been on cross country skis, let alone with a huge pack on my back in very deep snow. It wasn't hard, per se, but it was counter-intuitive to an alpine skier and it was sunny and warm (20 degrees!) and took energy to get up. At one point, I asked Bonnie, who was behind me, to go ahead because it was going to stress me out to have her watch me get up! She obliged.

We arrived at camp around 3 and were greeted by the sledders, along with a warm cook tent and tea. The sunset was lovely and the full moon rise was amazing as we collected firewood for a campfire that was to take place later on the lake! I've never burned a fire on ice before. We had a dinner of mac and cheese (the real thing with chunks of cheddar), sausages, and veggies. We walked around camp in mucklucks, which are essentially canvas slippers. You put them on over your socks and down or felt booties and keep dry and warm. At one point, one of the 12-year-old girls came running out of camp and yelled "I'm walking on a lake in my slippers on the snow!" in a singsongy voice. It was exactly what we were all thinking!

We went to bed about 9. It was 0 degrees at 6, so I have no idea how cold it got. I had to sleep with my contact case in my bed with me so they wouldn't freeze, so I popped it in my bra to keep them warm! We were in two sleeping bags, sleeping on a pine bough floor over packed snow. There was a wood burning stove in the tent, which went out mid-sleep. But I was never cold. Nice and toasty in my long underwear and layers. I had to get up to pee in the middle of the night and was met with heavily falling snow outside! It was beautiful, and warmer.

The next morning, after pancakes and bacon and coffee and tea, the skier team headed out while we readied the camp for our departure. We cleaned up, stacked wood, put down new pine bough floors all for the next group (who would arrive on Tuesday). We got a dogsledding lesson, and headed out. I drove my own dog team the whole way out! I had a kid for a while, in an attempt to even out the weight, but then he went back to another sled. We travelled 7 miles across the lake to get back. The dogs were awesome, it was silent and beautiful, and the sun came back out for our trip. I loved every minute.

When we arrived back, we put the dogs back in their places, ate lunch and hung out waiting for the skiers. They took a long time, so we finally headed down the road to find them. Right as we saw them coming, there, in the middle of the road was a moose! I've never seen one in the wild and she was a gorgeous cow. She headed up into the woods pretty quickly. It was a great ending to a great weekend.

My batteries all froze, so I don't have any photos of my own. I got a few from one of the dads, and I'm hoping more will make their way to me, but I figured that the universe was telling me I didn't need photos of this trip.

Here's a few more of theirs:

Breathe in my nose - out my mouth

I went dog sledding and it was amazing, but I haven't the energy to write about it.

Remember this post?

Well, maybe I should listen to myself better. And always trust myself more than I trust other people. And stop worrying about being alone. And look for people who are as pure and good as I am. But I didn't. And I'm paying the price.

So I'm in reflection, and that can't include writing right now.

I'm hoping in another few weeks, I'll be okay.

There is nothing to say

I haven't posted since December 18, I just realized. And I have nothing to say. Nothing is moving me. I am feeling settled and boring and pretty unmotivated for anything.

But, I'm going dog sledding in Maine this weekend, so perhaps after that, I'll have something to write about.

So, wait.

My Life Is Complete

CBS streams "The Amazing Race" online!

When Allowed Amongst the Boys

It's been a long time since I spent time amongst a group of boys. I say "boys" because this particular group has known each other a good while and have a long history and when touring down memory lane, boys is the best term for them. Today, I was treated to such a day, and it was as fun as I remember it being in high school and college. How did I lose this part of my life?

At one point, one of them said "It doesn't get better than this. We could tell these same stories tomorrow and they'd be just as good." That's at the heart of it. Friends gathered, drinking beer or Jack and ginger and just being together. I'm pretty sure I didn't hold my own, or represent women very well, but I drank a bunch of beers and did my best to listen well and ask questions where I thought they were relevant.

I'm not sure we women know what to do when let into the little club for an hour or an afternoon. Especially when the history isn't shared. If I dropped right this second back into a room with my three boys from high school, I think I'd feel at home because we share that history. Even though they are men who I don't know anymore and I am a woman who is a version of the girl they used to know, we could still fill an afternoon with stories and laughter. We were all there, at any of the settings of any of the stories. This time, not the case for me. But men, and these men are no exception, like to tell stories about themselves, even more so to a willing, listening, questioning audience.

After the fact, in the car, being driven home by the one who I am friends with (the other two are his, not mine), I gave my impressions of the other two. I'd met them both before, but not seen them in a while. I told the truth. That I like both of them and that I think they are good for him. And that I think they are big huge softies at heart who talk a good game. He laughed. A big, deep, open-mouthed belly laugh. He can laugh all he wants, but I'm not buying it. He wouldn't be friends with them if they weren't. It's why they call each other when they need something, are there when the chips are down, and give advice when it's sorely needed. It's same as what we women do for each other, just with a different cadence and at a higher (or lower, depending) decibel level.

I absolutely love the day after a holiday. Black Friday, New Year's Day, Boxing Day. Sleep in, eat breakfast out, and sit around just being with friends who matter. Like he said, "There's nothing better..."

Obama is my President

I've been wondering how to write a post about the post-election time in which we are now residing. I've been a bit overwhelmed and unable to properly organize my thoughts into anything, really, so I've put off writing. But it's time.

President-elect Barack Obama has a new website, located at www.change.gov to follow the transition for the next 70 days. (There's exactly 70 days to go from today. 70 more days of Bush. 70 more days until we can begin the healing process.) The site looks good, and true to Obama style, there's a place to submit stories about folks' election and campaign stories. It feels nice. Like if I met Obama tomorrow, I could sit down, have a cup of coffee with him, and say thank you. And it'd feel normal. Like I know him. He doesn't feel far off and away from me like others do. (For the record, I felt something like this about Bill Clinton in 1992, but that was more celebrity; if he'd been across the table from me, I would've been tongue-tied and a blithering idiot - this difference could be due to my age and maturity level, or it could be because I received email from "Obama" regularly. You decide.)

In further website news, I visited www.whitehouse.gov today for the first time. I'm going to assume this site didn't exist when Clinton was president (or it was at the end and I wasn't paying attention) and I've no call to go looking for anything about Bush that I don't already know. But I wanted to know what to expect after Obama takes office. In the top right hand corner, there is a link to the VP, the First Lady and one called Mrs. Cheney. So of course, not even recalling Mrs. Cheney's first name, I click on it. I am met with this photo of Dick's two dogs dressed up for Halloween - wait for it - last year!



Clearly, nobody cares what Lynne Cheney is doing with her days. Ha! Anyway, this was a giant digression. So allow me to continue.

I've been very very pleased that Barack won. I'd not been emotional about it yet. Until this morning. I was reading the special commemorative issue of Time magazine on the T this morning on the way to work and I kept tearing up. There were quotes from people and stories from the campaign trail. All of a sudden, I was aware of what's happened. Of the decision that we have made together - the people of the United States - to put our faith in someone who has promised to do things differently. People really challenged themselves on lots of levels to think differently, to cross party lines, to change their minds from where they began and vote for change.

For a minute and a half today, I considered trying to get to DC for Inauguration. I still could go. I could crash with someone from the University of Maryland and Metro into the city and just walk around and be in the same place that day. I could say I was in DC when the first President of the United States who wasn't White was sworn in. I might try to find someone to make the trip with me.

And here we go, into the 70 day countdown to Inauguration and then the first 100 days, those first three months where we, the media, the bloggers, the people, everyone, don't allow anyone to settle into anything without the upmost scrutiny. He appears ready for that. Which is good, because it's going to be tough. People, even those who voted for him, are going to be looking for him to fail. Is it human nature that makes us expect the impossible from those with power?

I know there are people who aren't happy he won. Some of those people are right in my family. I don't really get them, since I couldn't imagine McCain as my President. But I respect their opinion. I just hope they give him a second to breathe.

I believe we will slowly be welcomed back to the world stage as welcome participants rather than the school-yard bully that everyone has to put up with because we happen to be bigger than they are. I believe we will make better decisions about war and peace. I believe we will begin to help the Earth more. I believe we will slowly climb out of the economic tumble and fall we've been in for a few years now. I believe things will change.

I don't believe we'll wind up socialist, or even a social democracy, although that's what I long for. I wish we were more like France or Sweden. I wish we cared for each other; that health care was available to all; that education was a given. I wish that people didn't have to worry about paying the bills because everyone had a job and enough. But we're not headed there, not even with Obama, as some people think.

I think money will be put back towards Head Start, and the Peace Corps, and national service programs. I think money will be back for education in the arts and music and gym -- things that make students able to think and create and innovate in more than one way. I think once we stop spending all our money fighting a war that never should've been, we might be able to fix the things at home falling apart.

I have a lot of hope and a lot of faith and a lot of patience. And I believe this man I've put it all into, with a quick blackening-in of a little circle on a piece of paper in a booth in a middle-school gym on election day, will rise to it.