"You're scared aren't you?"

I stared back at MCC, blinking and not really knowing what to say. He was right of course. I'm petrified. Of what, I don't have a clue, but I'm scared nonetheless.

We'd been talking that afternoon -- about how sometimes it drives me nuts that he's always working, about how I'm dreading the wedding season, when he'll undoubtedly be spending most of his weekends photographing blushing brides. I told him I missed him already, and that last summer it was easy because -- because I wasn't this far in yet. I love that he's ambitious and driven and for christ's sake, he's a full-time photographer, running his own business, and he loves what he does. What girl wouldn't fall in love with a man who was brave enough, tough enough and smart enough to go after what he wants? But that doesn't mean it doesn't drive me just a little bit nuts that he feels just a little bit guilty whenever he's not working.

"I just -- I am completely in love with you and it scares me because I don't really know how to handle that. I'm not used to being in a healthy relationship, where I actually want to, you know, spend MORE time with the person. There's no manual for this, I don't know what I'm supposed to do or what comes next and there's just NO PLAN and I am a control freak and that makes me nervous."

He started laughing at me. "What, you normally chase them off before you get here?"

"No. I just choose the ones who dont last. And honestly, I never expected it to last. I kinda hoped, but never expected."

More laughter. "No, I mean -- c'mon -- you were on the rebound!"

I suppose part of what frightens me is the trusting thing -- I told him I've no idea how he does it. It's not that I think he'll intentionally ever hurt me -- I don't think he's actually capable of doing that. I just -- what if it all turns to crap?

Now I know I'm a control freak. Anyone who knows me can attest to it. But it's served me well in a lot of ways. I helped manage a theater company that stayed in the black for three years. I put myself through school, managing a full courseload, residing as president of 4 residence halls and working almost thirty hours a week. I managed to land a job I was no where near qualified for, and I'm doing it rather well. I am completely self-sufficient and independent. I think alone time is a necessity. I have an awesome group of friends who provide me with no shortage of amusement and I don't NEED to spend every minute with my boyfriend. On paper, I am actually pretty damn awesome.

So why on earth can't I just fucking relax and get comfortable? Good lord, could it be that I've been self-sabotaging for so long, I've no clue how to just be happy in a relationship?

 

There once was a very stressed out girl, a bit of a control freak really, who ingested much too much caffeine and nicotine and could be said to appear to be "vibrating" when she was really overworked. She decided that her vacation should be spent with the lovely Hellion, across the pond in the land of funny accents.

 

 

 

The girls decided that this trip should not be focused -- they agreed to wander streets and people watch. MCC warned them not to get arrested. The girls, ever-mindful of the law, obliged, but then they came across this

This my dears, is the Royal Courts in London. This is also a place that is sealed off to the public -- only barristers and solicitors may enter.

Hellion and I, being the sneaky pair that we are, promptly ignored this sign and found the back entrance to the grounds. That's where we came across a bunch of new barristers, being sworn in. Posing as family members and well-wishers, we entered the gated grounds. Perhaps if our Courts looked like this, I might have actually become a lawyer.

Never mind. I'll pay off my student loans one way or another.... Perhaps if the Ten Bells ever reverts back to its old station as a hooker hangout (where Jack the Ripper picked up two of his victims), I might try my hand as a madame.

Continuing with the hooker theme, we traipsed around Knotting Hill like Julia Roberts, eyeing antiques on Portobello Road and spending far too much time in pubs. (Though Hellion would counter that you can never spend too much time in a pub. This is why I love her.)

Next stop.... Dublin! Where castles aren't castles and pints are neverending (and boys run around in their underpants).

 

 

Wheeeeeeeeeeeee! I am officially on VACATION! That's right. I'm headed across the pond tomorrow evening to go chill with my dearest hellion. There will be fierce amounts of laughter and intoxication. I don't remember the last time I was so excited to get on a plane.

Amusingly, I am surrounded by anglophiles at work and am headed over armed with a shopping list for items at Boots. My boss is the main purchaser. Who knew you couldn't get this crap here?

Also work related -- the new guy started at work this week. He seems pretty cool, actually -- his sense of humor fits in nicely (acerbic and sarcastic) with the group and he's picking things up quickly. Me, the new guy, my boss and the department manager went out to lunch today (btw -- the lobster bisque at trinity place is very good) and we talked about our dysfunctional siblings, the problem with kids today, and how none of us are all that sure we want to have them.

I really don't know if I'm cut out for kids. If my cat gets too needy I want to yell at him -- what on earth would I do with a child? I know people always say that one day my ovaries will just kick me into mommy gear but I really don't know know about that. Thankfully, it's not something I have to decide tomorrow (despite what my mother thinks).

Anyway -- I'll be off for a week, so I probably won't be posting. But perhaps when I get back I'll include some of those newfangled things called PICTURES.

The first time I had sex, it was in college and it was with one of my oldest and dearest friends from HS. It just sort of happened.

I think that's probably how I can describe most of my sexual experiences in high school and college. They just sort of happened. I was very much like the girl Laura Sessions-Step describes in her new "return to courtship" diatribe Unhooked. I was focused on friends, work and school. I had crushes on boys I never intended to date, and hooked up with boys I never intended to date either, and dated a whole bunch of boys too (though this was mostly through the latter years of college and onward).  

Has this rendered me incapable of being in a serious, HEALTHY, long-term relationship? Don't think so. Inexperience being in a really long-term relationship will naturally breed some hesitation. Mistakes will be made, second-guesses will be plentiful and trust is something that takes infinite amounts of time and the enduring ability to be consistently trustworthy. Does this mean that women in high school and college shouldn't hook up with boys in the meantime? Does this mean that sex is only for those in relationships where exclusivity and professions of love where uttered? Good god I hope not.

Look, part of growing older is experimenting, making mistakes and finding what works for you. The girls that Sessions-Step warns us about -- those girls who fret over whether the boy from last night will call -- well the lesson those girls need to learn isn't that casual sex is bad. The lesson they need to learn is to be honest with themselves and with others about their wants and needs. Hopefully, they will also learn that SEX IS NOT A WEAPON. You should not be using it as a reward or a means to get a guy in a relationship. That just harkens us back to the notion that women should not enjoy sex. That it is something she gives a man, as a reward for appropriate behavior, and something she withholds to get what she wants. Sex is something you give to yourself. It's something you SHARE with someone else.

And what of the young men in these scenarios? This book just reinforces the stereotype that men will engage in commitment-less sex and will suffer no emotional consequences. You know, treating men like they have no emotions endangers us to a self-fullfilling prophecy. And while I love certain things about men -- the silly "boy" things they do like failing to do laundry for three weeks or forgetting that they actually own dishes, or killing bugs or protecting me from scary movie demons -- that doesn't mean I don't want mine turning to mush every time I tell him I love him.

The NYT has a great article on the book here.

I'm feeling twitchy. I've been feeling this way for the past week. Feeling stagnant and dying for something new to do. Don't get me wrong -- my life is wonderful. But I'm the sort of girl who needs new challenges - some new stimuli every once in a while. I realized this past weekend, that while it's probably just that winter itch -- this is the first time in forever where I'm not focused on something outside of work. Spending time with MCC doesn't count. I'm a big huge believer in having things you do that have nothing to do with your significant other. For a while it was UnArt -- which, strangely, I'm missing these days. Whenever I'd get an itch for a new project -- well there it would be, a new show for us to put up and for me to lose sleep over. (Much as I bitched about that lack of sleep, I did enjoy it.)

I'm contemplating taking a class, but there are so many to choose from (Bellydancing! Cooking! Swing dancing! NY History! Macro Economics! Game Theory!!) and I've got a limited budget. I know I really should be throwing this angsty energy into working out -- but the truth is, I'm bored with working out too.

So any ideas? I'm all ears.

I am going to London in LESS THAN TWO WEEKS!!!!!!!!!! Whilst there (that's right, I said whilst), the lovely Hellion and I will make a pit stop in DUBLIN, where we will drink our body weight in guinness and stay in Dublin's oldest hotel.

Opened in 1806, the Castle Hotel, is located in a Georgian townhouse at the top of O'Connell Street in Parnell Square. Each of the 40 somewhat rooms has been decorated in a fashion that typifies Georgian artistry.

I told my mother this, and her response was "Ew." It was "Ew" because the hotel wasn't a Marriott, and my mother has no sense of adventure when it comes to hotels. She wants pristine, sparkling, and with every modern comfort and sense of privacy possible. And I don't blame her. She's busted her ass all her life, she deserves to be cuddled in cashmere if that's what she wants. But she doesn't get that for me, the lover of all things history, THIS, this stay in a possibly a bit shabby but ever so charming little hotel that has been open practically as long as our country has been in existence, well it's like a little dream come true for me. I get to sleep swaddled in history.

I've never been to Dublin and rarely get to London and I CAN'T WAIT. I'm desperate for a vacation -- and I can't think of anything better than spending almost a full week with that ex pat minx, sipping coffee (er, tea) and laughing at everything and nothing. Last time I was in London, she was a kick ass tour guide, taking us to all the places I'm sure she was already sick off but cheered about with reckless touristy enthusiasm. This time, I kinda want to do less touristy and more getting lost. I want to wander side streets and cobblestones and discover new restaurants and bars and shops and cool shit we've never seen before. I want to relax and hang out. (I can hear her giggling now at this -- I've learned how to mellow out I swear!)

 

Why on earth are tickets to London still $500?!?!?! Damn it. I want to go see my Hellion.

 

As in tooth decay. Turns out I've got an abscessed tooth. Bahhh. Man -- what is up with my mouth???