A Decent Proposal…

Dear Mr. Paul Allen,

I would like to take this opportunity to say that I very much appreciate the great strides that you and Vulcan, Inc. are making in the business community, both locally and across the nation. Your forward-thinking approach to your many ventures, asking “What do we need that we don’t have? How can we realize our potential? What will it take to solve important problems and improve people’s lives? What should exist, and how might we create it—right now?” is both revolutionary and inspiring.

That being said, I have another venture to put forth for you: let’s get married. I’m a young, intelligent, professional with a sense of humor and a firm head on her shoulders. I appreciate cinema, the arts, and am an avid sports fan.

No need to respond right away! But I have two words for you: theme wedding. The reception could be held at the EMP and all your groomsmen could be Storm Troopers. It would be a match made in heaven–or rather, suborbital space.

Breathlessly awaiting your response,
Essaytch

ps…Did I mention I’m a member of the Sci Fi Museum?

You’ve Got It (The Right Stuff)

Dear Joseph (aka Joey-Joe),

It has been some time since we last communicated. Can you believe 19 years has flown by so quickly? It seems like only yesterday that I was gazing longingly at your picture as I drifted off to sleep…you remember the one I’m talking about? You were wearing that cute hat with the top cut out so your curly hair stuck up a bit. That was my favorite poster picture of you by far!

As I’m sure you recall, the last time I wrote it was to express my undying love and heartfelt pledge to save my affections for you and you alone, for all of eternity. I probably mentioned something about setting up my sister K with your pal Jonathan Knight too. Being the exact same age, they could technically have been married right away…a joyous event that would have naturally paved the way for our own torrid love affair.

With this letter, I’m afraid, I bring bad news: I have been unfaithful. Yes, it’s true…there have been others, Joe. Despite your incessant pleading “Please Don’t Go, Girl!”, a song which I know was written for my ears only, I have broken my pledge to you and likely destroyed all of your faith and hope in what could have been our happy future together. I know this news may not come as much of a surprise, as you were yourself married back in 2003, but I felt the need to get it out there in the hopes that we could begin to repair this rift between us.

I was glad to hear yesterday that you and the rest of the “Kids” are back in the studio and planning a long-anticipated reunion of sorts. I hope this upcoming tour can distract you from the dull ache you’ve no doubt been feeling since my unfaithfulness broke your heart to smithereens.

Take care, Joseph, and know that deep down “I’ll Be Loving You (Forever)”…

Your Favorite Girl,
Essaytch

 

I’m officially a nutter…

…and I don’t mean “a person who gathers nuts”. I mean “nutter” in the traditional British Slang way: “an insane person”, one who’s gone completely “batty”, “koo-koo”, “bonkers”, “tits up”, “loony”, “wonky in the head”.  I committed the Cardinal Sin of the single woman longing for companionship: I went to a movie alone. But not just any movie…no, I go to movies by myself all the time, that’s no big deal. But this time, I went to a romantic comedy. Alone. And now I’ve lost my marbles.

Friday night, I went and saw the screen adaptation of Cecelia Ahern’s novel P.S. I Love You. *sigh* Despite the fact that I despise Hillary Swank (eh, she’s an Oscar winner…big deal), she was actually quite endearing in the role of Holly, the young 20-something whose husband, played by Gerard Butler, has just died of a brain tumor at the age of 30. “Gerard who?” you ask. My thoughts exactly. As I sat watching what amounts to the most heartbreakingly sadly funny movie I’ve seen all year, I couldn’t help but wonder “Who is this bundle of Scottish yummy joy on the screen? And where can I get one of my very own?”

So I went home, got on the internet and I turned to the only places that I know I can get reliable information: Wikipedia and YouTube. I now know all there is to know about Gerard Butler (can I get a “This…is…SPARTA!”?)…and I am smitten. Actually, if Gerard were here, he’d remark on the glassy-eyed senseless look on my face as I sat at my computer, silly with giddiness  (except he’d say it with his sexy Scottish burr: “She sat there with a glaikit look oan har fizzog”). I stayed up until well past midnight watching archived footage of interviews from late night television; my Netflix queue is now full to the brim with every film he’s ever made, and I’ve petitioned my oldest friend (who just so happens to live in Glascow, Gerard’s home town) to keep her eye out for his twin so she can ship him back to me in a crate, kilt and all.

Truly, there could be nothing better than waking up to this every morning. If 2008 is anything for me like 2007 was, perhaps I’ll have a chance…at least at the next best thing. After all, “Whits fur ye’ll no gin by ye” (What’s meant for you will not pass you by).

Told ya…complete nutter.

(BTW, do go see this movie. It’s charming and sweet, despite its rather depressing premise. Just keep your guard up ladies, cause that Gerry…he’s a charmer!)

“When it’s all over…I’ll come back for another year”

Ok, I’ll admit. I’ve been distant. There I said it. It’s just that things have been so crazy busy and…well, I’m not one for excuses. So, no need to point out that I’ve been a sorry excuse for a blogger these past weeks. I’m here now, let’s just move on…

It’s Saturday night, and I have the condo all to myself, a novelty these days. The roomies are out of town visiting family until the 3^rd, so it’s just me and the cat holding down the fort…and I’ll admit, I’m digging the solitude. For a gal who lived alone for years, and now shares a place with 2 other people PLUS a menagerie of pets, I can’t remember the last time I was alone with no distractions. It got me thinking about all the things that have happened to me this year…I almost didn’t realize it, like not being able to see the forest for the trees, but 2007 was a HUGE year for me, full of changes, revelations, break-throughs, laughter, tears…you name it, it happened.

If you’ve ever heard the expression (and I’m so paraphrasing here) “When one door closes, someone opens a window”, that was definitely my experience in 2007. I was closing doors left and right that had been stuck open for YEARS letting all the good stuff escape and letting all the bad shit in. I closed the door on bad men and crappy relationships that had been plaguing me since college. I closed the door on being a loner, holed up like a recluse in my apartment with only Pippin for company. I closed the door on all the negative thoughts and demons that told me time and time again that I wasn’t good enough or smart enough to have the job and the life that I really wanted, that I really deserved. And, lo and behold, those proverbial windows started opening!

There are no new men in my life to speak of , but I’ve come to the realization that the good ones, if indeed there are any left out there, are worth the wait. And truth be told, if we were to cross paths any time soon, I’m not quite sure I’d be ready for you yet! Like I mentioned earlier, I ceased being a loner when I moved back in with 2 of the best gals in Seattle, whom I lived with back in college and who probably know me better than most. They have been instrumental in encouraging me to rediscover myself, to say “Poo poo!” to all the haters out there, and to pursue life tenaciously instead of waiting for life to come looking for me. And finally, I found the courage and the self-confidence to go after a job with a company that would truly appreciate (and compensate!) all I have to offer, whom I could invest in, and who would invest in me in return.

Strangely enough, on a lonely summer night this past June, I sat in my apartment listening to music, Andrew McMahon’s melodies shooting like arrows straight into my soul and hitting the bull’s-eye every time. And on this lonely winter night, just like so many months (that seem like years) ago, I sit at my computer with Jack’s Mannequin playing, and Andrew is once again shooting arrows at my heart: “Finally, I’m letting go of all my downer thoughts. In no time there’ll be one less sad robot looking for a chance to be something more than just metal…”

So, in light of all the changes in 2007, I think I can safely say that 2008 is going to effing ROCK! I generally hate new years resolutions, but in anticipation of Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Years (which I will be spending alone, no biggie) and the big ball drop just a few days from now, I thought I‘d be a good sport and let you all in on a few goals of mine for the new year: 2008 is going to be the Year of the Blog (weeks will not pass between posts, I promise); our kitchen WILL STAY CLEAN(er); yoga and meditation is in my future (as is the sci-fi/fantasy book club at EBBC again); I will get my oil changed more often; I will figure out how to work the heat in our condo, cause I’m freezing; I will move more, in the hopes of swimming in my clothes by June; I will watch less TV, which will be hard once the writer’s stike ends; and finally, The Evolution of Me will continue…I’ll carry on pursuing the best possible version of me, and I promise to take you with me! Enjoy the ride…

Just go AWAY already!!

I’m single. And while I would be more than happy to share my time with a boy, the fact is there’s too much going on in my life right now to deal with any dating drama…and if my dating history is any indicator, there would be DRAMA.I’m not sure what happened in my childhood to turn me into a magnet for lame guys, but boy am I cursed! In any other capacity, I would consider myself a pretty stable and independent person. I’m comfortable with being by myself, am perfectly capable of standing on my own two feet. But when it comes to men, they can use me, treat me crappy, ignore me, lead me on, have double standards, refuse to commit, string me along, give me a complex…and I LET them! (don’t freak: I recognize this is not healthy) The last guy I dated, I’m still in denial about. It was a classic case of someone who demanded upright living and perfection in others (including me), but he was free to do whatever he wanted. There was more hypocrisy in that man than any person I’ve ever known before or since.

But I digress. The reason for this post is that I’ve been thinking a lot lately about one ex in particular (not the above mentioned hypocrite). I have this strong desire to reconnect with him, and I’m not quite sure why. Let me fill in the background:

I almost wouldn’t consider him an “ex”: we officially only went on a couple of dates. However, we met on-line and spent the better part of a month talking every day on the phone before we even met. When we did finally go on our first date, we realized we had met previously on a few occasions at the church I went to. I was in leadership there, up in front of the congregation on a weekly basis, and I was always able to pick him out of the crowd: he was thatcute. Needless to say, by the time we actually went on our first date, there was a lot of emotional involvement already (at least on my part). He seemed to be an amazing Christian man, with a love of God and a spiritual mindset very much in line with my own at the time. The night of our first official date, he took me to dinner at a great restaurant. Afterwards, he pulled over and bought me flowers. Actually, he pulled over to this organic market in our neighborhood, took me to the florist dept (which is expansive and full of gorgeous blooms) and told me to pick whatever I wanted. By the end of the evening, I knew his entire family history, his hopes and dreams, his struggles and shortcomings. He told me (and I quote) that as far as he could tell, I “…dot all the ‘i’s and cross all the ‘t’s.” I was smitten. We went out several times after that, but within a few weeks, he’d decided that I didn’t quite “complete him” after all. So much for dotting i’s and crossing t’s. I was annoyed. Here was a guy who appeared to be all of the things I was looking for, and had basically told me that I was the same for him. But now he just wanted to be good friends. You see, I had become “one of the most important people” in his life, and he “really valued and cherished” me. So much so, that he wanted me to be his best friend, someone with which he could share everything in his life…including all the juicy details about the new girls he was dating. Ummmm, NO! Uh Uh, sorry dude.

Ok, so I’m pretty cool. I’m a great friend. I love to give relationship and dating advice to my peeps, guys and girls alike. But when I’m attracted to you, and I want to be more than just friends, hearing all the details about your newest romantic conquest just isn’t ok with me. There was a time when I would have hung on, played the “best friend” role, convinced that when all his other relationships failed (as was inevitable), he would see that what he really needed had been in front of him the entire time. (Yeah right…when does that actually happen in real life?)

So I severed contact with him. He didn’t understand. I went through the typical routine of deleting his number from my phone and his email from my contacts list, and it was satisfying. I fought against the urge to give in and call him, and I triumphed.

Then, at 8pm on a Monday night last February (close to 10 months since the last time I had even thought about him), my cell phone rang. The number was vaguely familiar, but I wasn’t sure about it and I’m not in the habit of answering calls from numbers I don’t recognize. I let it go to voice-mail, but none was left. Again, a week later a call from the same number…no voice-mail left. The weekend after my birthday (which is at the end of February), I received yet another call from the mystery number. This time, the caller left a message. It was him! Wishing me a happy belated birthday, apologizing for having missed it and hoping I was doing well. He signed off “Talk to you later!” as if we’d only just spoken the other day, and would be talking again real soon. WTF?!?!?!

I didn’t call him back. I told everyone I knew about it, and got mixed advice…some friends said to call him. After all, I was officially “over it” and could feasibly handle being legitimate friends with the guy. Others said that if he really wanted to talk, he’d call again. He never did. A month or so later, after having a dream in which he cameoed (nothing dirty, shut up!), I sent him a text out of guilt. I felt bad that he’d sent me his good wishes and I hadn’t even responded to say “thanks”. If he got my text, I’ll never know. I haven’t heard from him since, and its been at least 7 months.

So why, after all this time, is he nagging at my mind again? Why do I have this urge to call him out of the blue, just as he did to me almost a year ago? Last night, I found myself willing my phone to ring with him on the other end, just so I could be let off the hook. Why, after all these months, do I suddenly want to be friends with the guy, and nothing more? (for those of you who may think I’m subconsciously fishing for a new BF, trust me…I’m not)

I won’t call him. But what if I did?