heartofbold

Ah, the universe. What a sense of humor it has. Just when I feel lonely and fat and nonsexy and as if nobody will ever want to fuck me again...

i run into "that guy" at a bar.

Specifically The Shamrock. More specifically today at lunch. It is probably around ninety degrees and muggy enough to cause envy in a crotch that has just been on a twenty mile bike ride. I'm about to start my period and I'm in no mood to take care of myself. Thus, the burger and fries special at the 'rock.

So I go in, brand new green birthday ipod nano pumping The Smiths and I sit by myself. I should have a sign on my back that says, "Leave Me Alone Please." But this dude at the end of the bar (mid-forties, goatee guy) decides that he will buy my lunch (despite my protestations - I hate being in debt to strangers, even for a drink or a burger. Sheesh) and proceeds to do the whole dance of "you-married?-I'm-not-gay-despite-being-at-the-'rock-my-what-pretty-eyes-you-have" dance. He said a couple of things that might have, in his head, translated into flirtation. But it just came out in just an almost sleazy way. I had to stop and think, "did he just say what I thought he said?" several times. The more we talked, the more my memory locked into another time when I witnessed him at that bar, annoying patrons with drunken boasting and threats of fights. By the time I realized this, it was too late to politely get out of the situation.

It was when the conversation turned to what I liked to eat where things got bad. He asked me if I liked steak. He asked me if I liked chicken. He asked me if I was enjoying my burger. He asked me if I liked that raw hot beef.

I looked at him and told him that I really liked to eat without being bothered.

He shut up.

Sometimes, I enjoy being a redhead.

s

Yea. I started therapy today! I'm glad, even though I secretly think that I'm completely silly to even pursue this when there are so many people out there who don't have health insurance and who can't get help for their problems. But I need to get a grip on things. I had lunch with a friend the other day who I don't see all the time. The distance gives some perspective in that way that only having lunch with someone you haven't seen in a month or so can do. I mentioned that since I work alone and live alone and don't have any kind of intimate relationship that I get really lonely. She observed that it sounded like I have a lot of time to be "all up in my own head." I can't think of a better way to describe this. And what with the big fight with J being primarily about my needing to vent about my life and her being critical of it, well I clearly need someone to talk to.

So in the first hour we've pretty much figured out that my emotionally distant, alcoholic father is a big part of why I bend over backwards to get attention (loud, perfectionist, work-obsessed, leadership-driven), strive to be a good girl (complicated inner moral standards, more perfectionism) and have really low self-esteem. You can read more about the characteristics of adult children of alcoholics here: http://www.recovery.org/acoa/characteristics.html I can really relate to most of what is on the list, save for a few things like the thrill-seeking and clinging to unworkable relationships. Quite the opposite, my relationship trends are way more in working to convince someone that they should love me and then as soon as they do, I dump them. Love is a challenge to work for. I spent some time crying about how tired I am of being so angry and bitter about how I feel about people who are in relationships and how I feel like being married, having babies, dating and generally being in caring, stable relationships is like a little country club that won't let me in and that people who are in have such privilege. I am tired of thinking that way, but things have been pretty rough lately and sometimes I can't really tell the difference between the fear of rejection and the actual rejection I've had in the past year or so. I know things can be different, but sometimes all of the bad feelings I have about myself and about relationships seem as instinctual as pulling your hand away from a hot stove. You don't even think about it. You just do it. Hopefully my counselor and I will work on where those feelings come from and work on making more time between the emotion and the reaction.

I might be blogging specifically about that stuff. I might not. We'll see.

Oh, my new Ikea drying rack is amazing. It holds so many clothes! But my one complaint is that the bars are a tiny bit too narrow for XL t-shirts. I can only imagine some skinny Sweedish IKEA stuff designer creating a drying rack that is only large enough for L-sized people and smaller. Apparently fat people don't deserve to use a drying rack thereby saving electricity and quarters. But without the laundry money we save, how will we pay for our Bic Macs?

Is anyone else having end-of-the-world dreams?

I had one last night that involved a soccer field, a leg injury, hearing sex through my apartment walls - the mans voice belonged to someone I liked and I was jealous, a stage play that I was in but forgot my lines, a glowing jewel I was entrusted to bury in said soccer field before the bomb dropped. Radiation sickness.

I had started to have dreams like this after I saw Farenheit 911. I don't remember if there were explicit allegations of madmen with fingers on the button in that film, but the dreams started nevertheless. I remember as a kid being told how lucky I was to live in a time when we didn't have to have bomb drills in school. In Indiana, we had tornado drills that were pretty scary. But nothing about bombs.

The dreams are a little more personal than old newsreels showing little kids cowering under their school desks,


or ones that encourage women to keep a clean house to discourage the germs from germ warfare from growing.


Maybe it is just some kind of subliminal thing that I get when I forget to pay a credit card bill. But still...

Hmmm. Things change so quickly here.

1. got a new haircut. look even more like jane fonda. love it.

2. went out with farmer boy last week. one beer turned into three hours of talking. he is very, very pretty and does not know it (the only time i can think of when the complete absence of arrogance is actually sexy). he is a fucking farmer and therefore both ripped and poor and i think this is hot. he is very, very geeky but terribly interesting to talk to - intelligent in a way that is challenging, not intimidating. perfect. i've been trying to get his attention since late last fall and i'm trying not to scare him off (he probably has NO idea that I'm even interested). oh, oh how i do want to sleep with him. and give him a makeover. more on R later.

3. therapist shopping ensues! might have found one who is comfortable in calling me out on my bullshit. looking into why i have "problems adjusting" and "intimacy issues." yeah.

4. still not completely out of sexually challenged land: things still unclear with A who is probably the most fantastic person on the planet. she is smart, funny, single, tomboyish, passionate about the environment, sane, and seems to really care about me, faults and all, and is willing to accept me unconditionally. she is cute and yet i can't run away fast enough. why wouldn't i want to be with her you ask? probably because it might actually be a healthy relationship and that terrifies me. i'd rather have to work hard to trick farmer R into liking me. true thing. oh that and the baby obsessiveness. refer to #3 about said therapist.

5. C called me to apologize about our fall out. shocking. we are playing confessional voice mail tag (you know, you don't want to talk to someone directly in these uncomfortable situations, so you just leave forgiveness-exchanging voice mails for each other?). i don't know if we are going to be friends again, but after the blowout with J, i totally understand how someone can push one's buttons and make one fly off the proverbial handle in anger and not want to speak to someone for months, yes? it would be nearly as childish for me not to forgive C as it is for me to continue the silent treatment to J. but i can't think about J without getting WHITE HOT about the whole thing. refer to #3 about said therapist.

6. mark this one in the history books: S just called me, voluntarily on the phone, to ask what i was doing tonight. the more i ignore him, the more he seems to pay attention to me. fuck. i'm trying to get people off of my crush list in order to simplify my life.

blah, blah i'm fat. blah, blah.
fuck
s
ikea!

I know I don't write in my Livejournal much. J should know that I miss her tons and that I realize how much I get caught up in my own life and my own head and ignore other people. Your life is changing so much and you're going through a lot and I'm with you in spirit. M, you and I really should do lunch sometime...

So. Quick updates.

1. I ran into a certain someone recently (http://heartofbold.livejournal.com/4704.html). I KNEW it! I KNEW that he was totally lying about being from Chicago and having a nice job. I was at the terrace, drinking beer with some friends. We'd been drinking all day and enjoying the sunny, mild spring. At one point I got up and walked around the patio to go inside and hit the girls' room and I saw him sitting there with a small crowd of other students who were drinking their way through finals. I blushed and walked faster. In the bathroom I got my game plan together. So, with all the half-drunken courage I could muster, I walked out, found him, sat right down on his lap and kissed him all over his face while explaining to all of his friends that this young man was the biggest liar in the world! "Oh, I'm from CHICAGO and I make SO MUCH MONEY and that's why you should SLEEP WITH ME," he says. After hopefully embarrassing him sufficiently, I shook his hand and told him that he had good game. He still whipped out his phone and tried to get me to give him my number but I said no way. Vindication has such a sweet aftertaste that is best savored alone.

2. Saw Morrissey in Milwaukee with my friend R from MN. I was good. I only cried once when he sang "Let Me Kiss You." I stopped crying abruptly when he ripped his shirt off. I think he's still got it. Good show.

3. The losing streak did have a nice end in April, but the whole situation could probably have been better. It was one of the many, many times that I've laid in bed, next to someone I've just shagged, and cried for the lonliness or maybe the fear of the lonliness that would doubtlessly be hours away. The last night, he went out and partied with friends and came back too drunk to fuck. I took it personally. Because that's what I do. The next morning, I got up early to pack for a trip and I had to get ready to drive to MKE to catch a plane. There was this whole dreamy part about my walking back from hitting the farmers market early to find a huge crow attacking a baby bunny in the grassy area outside of my apartment building. I shooed the crow away and didn't know what to do with the tiny bunny who was bleeding from its mouth and one of its eyes. I picked it up and looked for a wooded area to put it down with some shelter from the birds but I couldn't find anything that seemed right. I finally squeezed through a fence around a nearby condo and put it down among some of the bushes in the neatly manicured backyard. I went back home, washed the bunny blood off of my hands, said goodbye to the boy and left. I stopped crying by the edge of town.

4. Despite end of previous losing streak, another has begun. I can't concentrate much.

5. There's other stuff, but this blog is about bitching about my petty things. It's not about work, it's not about my mother's brain tumor. It's not about the Bush administration. It's not about the new stickers on my bike or the fact that my muffler is about to drop off of my seven year old car despite just putting a bunch of money in my exhaust system a few months ago. It's not about the cloudless sky or the fact that I'm wasting work time. It's about my low self esteem. It's about how I think I do need a therapist, regardless of how much I want to punch someone in the mouth for suggesting so. Stay tuned.

Weight status: 202 (up from 196 two weeks ago(=)
Dress size: 16 (bought a bunch of clothes from the non-fat girl store last month!)

Food yesterday:
Breakfast: fruit smoothie, coffee

Lunch: pizza from Cosi, lemonade

Dinner: bipimbop easy style, beer

Food today:
Breakfast: two pcs toast with EB spread, some cheese and crackers, OJ, coffee

Music playing while writing:
"Olympian" - Gene
"The Brides Have Hit Glass" - Guided by Voices
"Day That Bella Abzug Died" - Sarah Dougher
"Everyday is Like Sunday" - Morrissey
"Double Dare Ya" - Bikini Kill
"007" - Desmond Dekker
"Pardon Me" - The Blow
"Palmcorder Yajna" - The Mountain Goats
"Batheration" - Duke Reid

After an approximately nine month drought, my not getting laid trend is officially over. My fantastic friend-with-benefits is in town for a visit this week and he's staying with me. I promised J I'd dish the dirt, so here it is.

The original plans involved M coming into town on Sunday night. Needless to say, I spent the entire weekend cleaning the apartment (even places he'd probably never even look like the floor of the closet), doing body hair management, clipping toenails, and generally doing all of the detail work to hopefully remove some of the self-doubt that always seems to come up when naked with others. You wouldn't think that the cleanliness of my closet would worry me at such a time, but it does.

However plans kept changing (he's a bit of a free spirit) and I was starting to tire of the maintenance effort to keep the apartment and the body fuckable-perfect. By the time plans changed on Tuesday, I wondered if it was going to happen at all.

But we texted back and forth a bith on Tuesday and made plans for him to come over. My memory of the previous times that we had gotten together, I had the impression that he sort of liked sex to be his idea, that he liked to make the first move and I appreciated this. And we girls sometimes like to let the boys think that. But it had been over nine months since I'd gotten laid. I didn't have time to play hard to get, yes? I boldly sent him a text message that pretty much spelled out the fact that I wanted him to get over to my place as soon as possible and that I promised to buy him dinner after. I'm a gentleman like that.

I am such a cheeseball too. With said perfect apartment, I lit candles everywhere and put on my Aretha Franklin album. He came in. We hugged. I took his clothes off. We had very happy, very good monkey sex on my new duvet from Ikea.

While I am pretty well known for NOT being a penis enthusiast, I have to say that his is quite special. What a friendly reunion. I don't know if his dick is really big or if he is just skinny and it looks huge in proportion, but whew. It has certainly been at least a decade since I've given such a celebratory blow job. He says that I'm talented. But all boys say that, right?

We went out for dinner and then to a bar to watch a cover band and play pool. We got to catch up on all of the things we've been up to. We seem to think that the other person leads a pretty fabulous life, even if in our own shoes we feel that life can be a little mundane. I told him a little about my previous relationship and the subsequent break up (relevant as the last time M was in town for a visit, I declined to sleep with him because things were just getting interesting with the other - something I regret).

I have a real strong urge to corner M and ask him for feedback from the boy's perspective. He probably won't cooperate. He never did before when I tried to figure out why we had hooked up in the first place. It was such a saga of ubercrush + avoidance on my part and I had been so surprised when we finally did get together. Always needing verbal affirmation, I wanted him to be very specific on why he saw fit to fuck me. My personality? My boobs? Was I just an easy lay that he could also respect politically? I think I'd still like to get that affirmation.

But more importantly, I would like to know how it all happened. Mostly because I would like to recreate our relationship with someone else when M decides to blow town again. I cannot rely on his periodic visits to have happy, non-committal sex. In lieu of the perfect life partner with whom to buy the house and have the baby, etc. a friend-with-benefits is crucial for my well-being. It is a noticible change today. I am relaxed. I'm not interested in food. I smile for no apparent reason. He's so super cute.

So I hope to ask him about what I'm doing right, what I could do better, maybe if I need to be more clear with boys. Maybe you do need to spell things out a little more with them. Especially with these political boys who were raised by feminists and who don't want to make any assumptions. I don't want assumptions, I just want to have sex on a regular basis.

That's the update. Hopefully I'll stop bitching so much now. Thanks to everyone who put up with me. Can't wait until tonight. Must have more monkey sex.

Other things:
Job is going fine.

I'm still at 201, but getting closer to my first weight goal.

Thinking of seeing a counselor about food issues. Probably under the category of binge eating, even though I'm really just an "emotional eater" rather than a whole-bag-of-Oreos eater.

The Ikea shelves look fantastic in my apartment. But they are kind of like the ship in the bottle: it came in in pieces and now that it is put together, I have no idea how I'm going to get it out of my apartment. It's huge and weighs... well it weighs more than I do.

I got invited to another baby shower. Do I still have to keep going to these things?

xoxo
s

okay. i just spent the past few minutes searching though MySpace for boys who graduated with me from high school. if i had met my one true love when i was 18, i now have a better idea of whom i'd be married to. a composite sketch would reveal someone who is overweight, has a goatee, enjoys wearing mirrored wrap-around sunglasses, is a fan of Korn, aspires to own a camero, supports some sort of baseball team (evidenced by the wall paper of said team as the background of the MySpace page), plays guitar in a band that specializes in 80's rock covers, and has at least one child named after a professional athlete. oh, and is also serving time in Iraq.

while this does not negate my previous post, i do somehow feel a tiny bit better.

while being alone is what underlies my personal struggle, i need also to remind myself that when i make the choice to settle down, i will refuse to settle.

yep. that boy never, ever called. i cry about this often.

and today i got an email from theonewhogotaway from college. he wrote to me about a new girlfriend (and we have this unspoken policy to NEVER talk about the people we date. we've just never done it. so i'm thinking that this may mean that it's not a casual dating situation). he told me that she reminds him of me. i cry about this too. he's not going to be with me... but he his happy to have found someone who reminds him of me. ten years obsessing over this boy. am i somehow waiting for him?

this is why i cry. this is why i feel like shit all the time. don't you ever feel like you want to drive off a cliff because it seems like it's never going to happen? this is never going to happen and i am going to be alone for the rest of my life. this is why i cry. i want it to be my fucking turn. i don't know what happened or where things got unhinged, but i haven't had a relationship that lasted more than four months since i was 19 and the only thing that i've learned is that you can never get what you really want. i'm sick of being alone.

today, i hate everything.

(down to 201, last week. haven't smoked in a month)

he still hasn't called. why do they ask for your phone number if they aren't going to call. this is a total waste of my time.

jh - i am going to be going to IN for the easter holiday weekend! i am planning on going through chi-town on friday (early) and monday (whenever). i realize that you will probably be poking people's eyeballs during the day, but maybe i can plan it jaaaaaast right to meet up with you on monday? the ikea calls me with temptations of bookcases and duvet covers...

i may have found one. if he actually calls, i might say that with more confidence. someone please remind me to WRITE OUT that list of the things i'm looking for in the perfect person so that when the perfect person is found i can point to the list and say, "see? i TOLD you so."

and since jh is probably the only person who actually reads this blog, i have a snippet to share. i finally, finally got my record player fixed and it came back from the shop yesterday. i spent most of the evening drinking cheap wine and listening to the records i missed. probably made my neighbors mad when i sang all the backup parts to Young American. miss you girl! april will be an excellent month all around, i promise.

Anyone seen Avril Lavigne's new video for "Girlfriend"? Anyone notice how it's the redhead who gets dumped on (literally)? The haircolor war in that video is not lost on me.

Ask yourself who made that decision anyway?

What a weekend. My band played a show for, I hear, around 600 people. I was so nervous. I had a sugar crash somewhere in the afternoon (I’ve been forgetting to eat lately and once you feel a crash coming on, it’s already too late) and it took some pasta, juice and four beers to get my nerve up.

But we played and I only made a couple of mistakes. I didn’t get down about it either. I just played really hard and rocked it. All the work we did really paid off. Then it was off to afterparty.

I was standing outside having a smoke and trying to figure out what to do next. Two boys (both terribly cute) were talking to me. Not particularly invested in the outcome, I invited them to the afterparty. Blah, blah, blah I didn’t have the address on me and I had to go back to my apartment anyway to pick up food, blah, blah, blah. They suggested they come back with me and then get a ride. The blond one, D, started flirting with me first but he was well on his way to drunk so I sort of blew him off. His friend, P, however, seemed much more interested in talking to me like a real person.

So we hit the road and walked back to my place. P stepped up and was working very hard to get me to notice him. He grabbed my hand (did I ever mention that I really hate holding hands?) and when I resisted that, he took my arm (which I do love and always miss when I’m walking down the street and feeling lonely). At my apartment, the boys suggested that we didn’t go to the party at all (ahem). I couldn’t believe any of this and laughed it off. P continued the touchy feely in the car.

At the party I sort of abandoned the boys and instead talked to my bandmates. I figured that if they were both just out to get laid that there were way more drunk girls at the party for them to pick off. I figured they’d forget about me right away. But P tracked me down and we chatted. He said he had gone to school here and was now an investment banker in Chicago. He talked about throwing around money which didn’t impress me. But it was nice to get the attention of such a cute boy. These kinds of boys never look at me. It’s like I’m invisible to them. He didn’t ask about what I do for a living and I deeply, deeply enjoyed the anonymity. It was nice to just be the girl in the band.

I left him again and went to consort with bandmates. I couldn’t believe the situation. I needed a reality check. I needed to brag and have a witness to this. They were impressed and encouraged me to get laid. This was clearly the situation that I’d been waiting for and have been bitching about for months. I don’t really know where the hesitation came from. But the attention was delicious.

P was not mingling and seemed to be bored. D was chatting around but could see we wanted to leave. I was standing there and shuffling the pros and cons of the evening’s events like a deck of cards.

Pros: the kind of boy who would never talk to me otherwise was clearly hell bent on getting in my pants; I could have had both boys if I wanted to; extra slut points gained by bragging to bandmates; could possibly put an end to my relentless bitching about not getting laid; could get ego points by having slept with this guy; (wishful thinking) would possibly have someone to date in Chicago if I were to visit…

Cons: felt frumpy in my performance clothes; had all that stage makeup on and just wanted to take a shower; hadn’t shaved my armpits; due to a blip in my insurance coverage, I’m not on the pill; this situation was too easy and I’d probably wind up with some STD; despite my attempts to shake them and be hard to get, I still felt like low lying fruit; I didn’t actually believe that P would be authentically interested in me, I didn’t believe that they were from out of town, I didn’t believe any of their story…

We left the party, I dropped them off at the hotel where they said they were staying and I went home.

I think that despite my bitching, the thing that is fucking me is my crappy self-esteem. I didn’t take advantage of this situation because I didn’t believe them. My trust level with men is probably at an all time low right now (thanks J, you fuckhead). Despite truly enjoying the attention, I couldn’t choose to indulge in this particular fantasy (two boys: I could have had two of them.) because right now I need something more. I need someone to see me for who I am. I need someone to be specific about what it is about me that is special and attractive. Because often I have a very difficult time seeing that for myself. I know how I feel when I am attracted to someone. I know that those people are special and as poetically nauseating as it sounds, I know that I can honor their bodies as the vessels of their souls. I want someone I can honor. I want to be honored and adored. I want to be admired and respected. And I want someone whom I can admire and respect.

Maybe this makes me idealistic. Maybe it makes me Victorian. But ultimately it felt very good to turn down such a cute guy. I mean preppy cute.

On a side note, it was actually very difficult to get P out of my car. He wouldn’t be convinced that I wasn’t going to sleep with him (I could hardly be convinced myself). I needed to employ a foolproof strategy to end the evening. I then suggested that he come back to Madison from Chicago sometime and that we go on a real date “and see where it goes.” That did the trick. He asked me one more time, gave me a kiss and left. What is the takeaway lesson ladies? If you want a guy to like you, resist him. If you want a boy to want to stay, suggest he doesn’t. But if you want a guy to leave, suggest he stays. And if you really want boys to like you, join a band.

Weight status: 203
Dress size: 16W

Food yesterday:
Breakfast: breakfast sandwich, potatoes and coffee at Cleveland’s

Lunch: slept through lunch

Dinner: pad thai tofu and water

Food today:
Breakfast: cigarette and water

Lunch: rice, ground turkey and bipimbop sauce with a coke zero

Music while writing: Laptop music shuffle
“I’m a Cukoo” – Belle and Sebastian
“Black Sky” – Hepcat (introduced to my shuffle due to recent nostalgia for the antifa skinhead days – I’m getting my haircut soon)
“Books Written For Girls” – Camera Obscura
“Phoenix City” – the Skatalites
“The Real Janelle” – Bratmobile
“Left with a Broken Heart” – The Paragons
“They want us to make a symphony out of the sound of women swallowing their words” – Le Tigre
“Someday” – The Strokes
“On Danse Sur ma Maison” – Edith Piaf
“John James” – Toots and the Maytals (anyone taking me to that show at the Barrymore?)
“Well I Wonder” – The Smiths

Whew. Glad this weekend is over. The weekend starting of course with Thursday. It’s been several days of poopiness. I think it started with blowing off WW to pig out at McDonalds. Pizza delivery for Friday dinner. Saturday I had a fit going to Milwaukee for work and wound up having to pull over to cry somewhere near Miller Park. Sunday I spent the day in bed.

Monday looked to be about the same – I dragged my butt to the gym and worked out (I’m trying to convince myself that exercise is a good replacement for sex) and finished my morning routine. But about the time when I was just about ready to head out the door, I just felt like it was too cold and I was too unhappy to leave the house. I sat down and squeezed out eight fat tears and decided to curl up in bed. Why all of the emotional crap all of a sudden? Why all of the downyface?

I think that the really short answer is that I’ve been trying to lose weight and figure out why I’m not dating (not without trying – I skipped a few LJ posts about my past couple of failed attempts at asking my crushes out and not over email this time either – in person!). I dropped the first ten pounds and felt really good. But I think I’m stuck and I’m frustrated and I’m tired of thinking about every little thing that I put in my face. That and all of this emotional stuff has come up about why I eat so much when I’m unhappy and why I feel the way I do about myself. I think I need a therapist instead of a diet plan.

So Monday was mostly spent in bed, but even if you dream of spending a cold day in bed the truth is that it’s really boring. I got up and had some soup for lunch and then curled up to finish this chick lit book I’ve been reading. It started out with this heroine that was this curvy, ballsy chick who I really identified with. It ended with this totally sentimental twist where she nearly loses a baby and… well I kept crying and crying over this stupid book.

When I finished that, I turned on the TV and there was Oprah. She had a special about women who were over 50 and fighting age. Lots of stuff about getting makeovers, etc. But all of the women she talked to talked about how they overcame challenges to their self-esteem. Muriel Hemmingway talked about how if the self-critical voice in her head was a person, a friend who said she was fat or not pretty enough or not good enough and no wonder why no one wants to be with you and so on that she wouldn’t keep being friends with her. So why not dump that self-critical voice?

So I took that advice, got up and shaved my legs. First time I did that since J dumped me (aka since early July). Wore some non-baggy clothes to band practice for once. I think that my own internal monologue of criticism and self-pity might finally be boring me enough that I can get out of this crappy rut.

Here is a non-whiny post for a change.

I’m exploring some of the strategies for the whole “getting out there” thing and due to some recent, um, discussions with friends on proper etiquette when trolling for boys, I’m interested in researching “wingman” rules. After a little googling online today between meetings, I’ve found that there are two basic takeaway points on websites touting wingman strategies: 1.) communication between trollers is essential, and 2.) the “other” girl is always fat, ugly and bitchy.

Now I don’t know why all of these websites naturally assume that if two boys are out to find girls and one boy takes the lead or the “shooter” position and the second boy takes the secondary or “wing” position that the shooter will always pick the most conventionally attractive woman of a target pair, and that the secondary woman is always conventionally unattractive. And fat. Did I mention fat? There is certainly a preoccupation with the fatness of the wingman’s girl. Much more than her bitchiness.

But overall, I do think that some of the communication strategies that are shared contribute to a larger, very important point. If you aren’t out alone and you are looking for a date, you do need to have some kind of way to signal to your companions that you either need support or you need to be left alone when pursuing someone you find attractive. This is fundamental.

So in the spirit of sharing, below are a few nuggets of wisdom that I pulled with a plugged nose and latex-gloved hands from the smelly heaps of misogyny that I’ve read through today. Enjoy.

Wingmen are to:
1 Introduce each other's stories. (eg "Hey dude - that reminds me - tell them about that time when you beat up those muggers" or whatever)
2 Boast on each other's behalf - (eg "you better not mess with this guy - he got a first at University/has a Black Belt in Karate" - then your wing acts all nonchalant or whatever.)
3 Laugh at each other's fucking jokes.(duh. this is pivotal. so simple, so important. Never have a joke fall flat on the group.)
http://www.fastseduction.com/cgi-bin/ib/topic.cgi?forum=11&topic=5

Some of the top 10 traits of the wingman:
He understands your language - You've been in the trenches together. You know your wingman well, and he knows you well. You don't have to talk to communicate about every situation. He can read your body language, signs and codes, and act accordingly to help your cause.
He reads the terrain - The good wingman knows whether to enter the conversation to keep things moving forward or to just back off and let you do your stuff. He can also sense whether you're barking up the right tree or just wasting time. More importantly, he's not afraid to tell you so, potentially saving you from a night wasted on a girl who isn't interested. Your backup will adapt to every situation. He'll know when he needs to be talkative and when he needs to keep it shut. He'll change his colors in an instant, getting involved when appropriate and blending seamlessly into the background when not.
http://www.askmen.com/dating/dating_top_ten_100/119_dating_list.html

“The Eagle Flies at Midnight” tip:
Rule Number 8: Coordinate and agree on a few (not too many) signals for things which help relay to your wing things like: "This one is my target", "Help me disable the obstacle", "I don't need help right now", or "Should I merge with your set?" As an example, one that's been floating around is "Have you seen Michelle around?" - if the lead says "Yes", you should try to join the set, if he says "no" that means "I'm doing fine on my own."
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=6122990

I love the idea of mutual support (even if I don’t always feel like playing games with strangers) and I love the idea of indirect communication with your companions. I am a horrible liar and I have a terrible time keeping secrets, so sending signals to friends would be difficult for me to do without obvious “tells,” but these ideas are worth exploring. Yes?

Weight status: 206
Dress size: 16W

Food yesterday:
Breakfast: nada

Lunch: double cheeseburger at McDonalds. I’m addicted.

Dinner: chorizo burrito at La Hacienda.

Late night: three pieces of Tombstone cheese, coffee, water.

Yesterday was a very bad day for my health, in general.

Food today:
Breakfast: two eggs over easy, one piece of dry wheat toast.

Lunch: coffee, turkey sandwich with pesto mayo, lettuce and red peppers, about a tablespoon of three pepper hummus and a small handful of pita chips from Trader Joe’s. Piece of chocolate and another coffee.

I miss my life from ten years ago. Maybe it’s just sentimentalism, maybe the grass is always greener. Even though I was so young and poor (Stacy? Remember how you got your current credit rating?), but I miss the lack of responsibility. Life is just full of drama. Mostly drama that directly impacts other people and not myself, but it affects me anyway. I just want to get through whatever is happening.

Okay. Good list, Bad list. Hit it.

Bad list:
1. My mother may have a brain tumor. After falling and breaking her wrist in two places right before Thanksgiving, she got a catscan when she hit her head in the process. The results showed something that the doctors want to look into. That’s all we know at this point. But mom is freaking out and making funeral plans. She’s probably more upset about needing to shave her head for an operation she doesn’t even know if she needs or not.
2. My grandfather is in the hospital again for pneumonia. Today is his 93rd birthday. This I also forgot because I don’t keep track of birthdays at all.
3. Slept on my neck wrong on Friday night. Can’t make sudden movements.
4. May be fighting off a cold. Feel like crap. Have to run an event tonight and I have no idea how I’m going to pull it off.
5. Overscheduled myself this week. Now I have too much planned. I may have to cancel something to drive to see grandpa.
6. Forgot to pay my student loan payment this month. Now it is about a week late. This is the only payment that I’m making that is improving my credit rating. Oh, I didn’t pay my Lane Bryant card bill too. That’s about three days late. I am irresponsible.
7. I hate my hair. I haven’t shaved anything since Jay dumped me.
8. Haven’t been to the gym in two weeks.

Good list:
1. I have about a week off for the holidays. I want to spend a couple of them just puttering around the house. I might just rent movies and do nothing.
2. I had a great night with Carmen on Saturday. We went to a really bougie restaurant for dinner. Then went to another really bougie place for drinks and dessert. I got a bit tanked. Spent forty bucks, but it was worth getting dressed up and feeling very big city. However, see number 6 above for my residual feelings of guilt.
3. Baked cookies yesterday and got my shit together for the meeting tonight (food wise only) by slicing cheese and sausage ahead of time. I took some of the cookies to drum practice and everyone loved them. Cooking things for people that makes them happy makes me happy. I am turning into the woman my inner feminist always hated.
4. Drum practice was pretty great. New crush du jour didn’t show up. He didn’t email me back after I e-stalked him on myspace. His fingers are clearly broken. Or he is dumb/shy/afraid/likeallboys. But I’m getting more confident about my playing and I’m getting very excited about our performance. I think this is my new thing.
5. Canned chunk pineapples in juice. Cheap. Sweet. Good for you.

Good list/Bad list isn’t working. I still feel like going home and going back to bed. I can’t things today and tonight are too important.

I have to go call the hospital and check in on grandpa.

Weight status: 206
Dress size: 16W

Food yesterday:
Breakfast: crazy pigout. I had a dual craving for both chorizo (see previous post) and that nacho dip that you make with salsa and Velveeta.

Lunch: dip leftovers, some cookies

Dinner: two oranges and some pineapple. More dip.

Food today:
Breakfast: yogurt with blueberries, a bowl of honey and nut cheerios.

Lunch: Ian’s slice, coke. I am so off the diet.

Music while writing: Laptop music shuffle
”B-Boy Makin with the FreakFreak” – Beastie Boys
“Hold the Bar” – Sarah Dougher (major college flashback song)
“Homeward” – The Sundays (my media player is trying to kill me)

I haven’t whined here in a very long time. May whining commence now.

It was very hard to get to work today. It felt like quite the case of the Mondays despite the fact that it is Thursday. I would really rather have worked from home in my pajamas today. I got up early and went to the gym which I haven’t done in a long time, but I went back home and went back to bed. Sad day. Lonely day. But I did the funniest thing this morning. Very cute boy working out on one of those pully machines. I noticed him and ran smack into a treadmill. Dumbass.

Feeling that I need some more changes. There is a major trend in my life of attracting friends who are incredibly intelligent, intense, charismatic, creative. And batshit crazy. It’s not that I don’t love batshit crazy. I do. I just think that I need to expand my social horizons a little. Maybe I need to make friends with people who are a little boring. Maybe they have datable friends.

Went home for the holidays and mom noticed that I had lost some weight. That was important to me even though it is just the other side of the cringe pendulum. She could notice that I gain weight and her comments make me feel like shit but if she notices that I lose weight, it’s like some ultimate validation. But I’m still just fighting everyday to try to shake off all of the self-pity bullshit. No matter what other really good things are happening, I just think about not being in a relationship and not getting any loving attention from someone and I just want to fucking eat all the time. I’m writing this with an uncomfortably full stomach after visiting my favorite Thai restaurant. I should never eat out when I’m feeling shitty. Can I go back to bed now?

Weight status: 206
Dress size: 16W

Food yesterday:
Breakfast: blueberry bagel and light cream cheese with coffee from Einstein’s. Light cream cheese doesn’t taste any different from regular! It’s the fat free stuff that is worthless. The coffee there was really good too. Also had two pieces of sausage and crackers at work.

Lunch: sushi at the farmer’s market place in Milwaukee

Dinner: chorizo burrito from La Hacienda pig out. Why is chorizo like pork candy?

Food today:
Breakfast: yummie breakfast bowl with veggies and an egg. Tea and water. I can do a good, healthy breakfast when I put my mind to it.

Lunch: I ate the entire helping of pad thai and an egg roll from V. Palace. I am a pig.

Music while writing: Laptop music shuffle
”Sweet Jane” – Velvet Underground
“I Don’t Want to See You” – Camera Obscura
“Say It Loud (I’m Black and I’m Proud)” – James Brown
“Bull in the Heather” – Sonic Youth

It is snowing.

I want to have a party, but I don’t know when I’ll have both time and money concurrently for party purposes. I owe my need to party to reading Amy Sedaris’ new book which is fabulous.

Really looking forward to the retreat. I’m going to spend some time with myself and try to set some new goals. Maybe I’ll post the goals here when I get back (they will probably include things like “Eat More Vegetables,” “Spend More Time Reading Than Watching Television,” and “Set Reasonable Goals for Work.” I might even have something in there about “Envision Your Success” in work and social life.)

But I need a cat sitter. I’ll call Anna. This I’ll do and feel a bit sentimental or something because I’ll realize that it is the life of the single girl to call friends and ask them to feed her cat, but it is the duty of a parent to find other people with children to call-in babysitting favors. Anna is getting very pregnant and her life will soon have a dramatic change.

I don’t think I have anything to complain about today. I’ll stop blogging immediately.

Weight status: 207
Dress size: 16W

Food yesterday:
Lunch: soup (minestrone) and salad (Caesar) combo from Uno Chicago Grill along with two and a half glasses of Mountain Dew. Too much pop! But I’m worried about my afternoon energy slumps. They are getting bad.

Dinner: yummy roasted potatoes and some leftover coconut curry squash soup.

Food today:
Breakfast: Cleveland’s pigout. Sausage, egg and cheese breakfast sandwich with potatoes, coffee and water. I didn’t think I’d be getting a real lunch today, so I bulked upon breakfast.

Music while writing: Laptop music shuffle
”Outta Me” – Bikini Kill
“Well I Wonder” – The Smiths (one of my very favorite)
“Gone Daddy Gone” – Violent Femmes
”911 is a Joke” – Public Enemy
“Last Days of Disco” – Yo La Tengo

Cute boy didn’t show up at the coffee shop yesterday. Figures.

But I will not let that discourage me.

I was talking to someone about civil rights today. He said that civil rights are like muscles: everybody has them, but if you don’t exercise them, they are pretty useless.

Maybe I need to get back to the mindset that my social life is like this. I need to flex. I sent an out-of-the-blue email to someone somebody tried to set me up with ages ago. I’m going to try to get him to take me out. I need attention, dammit. I need to have an intelligent conversation with a boy.

So I’m not giving up. But I do feel the election-nearing stress. I had my little panic attack this morning, realizing that the elections are a week away. I’ll be in the office late tonight – mostly because I keep stopping getting my work done to do things like blog stupid things and check my email. Send your volunteer update! Update your webpage! Return those phone calls!

Weight status: 207
Dress size: 16W

Food yesterday:
Dinner: McDonald’s pig out. I’ll admit it: I love the double cheeseburgers. They are my kryptonite.

Food today:
Breakfast: Crossandwich meal with coffee (why do I do this to my body?) because I was in a hurry to get to a workshop that I just bailed on due to the freakout that Election Day is one week away.

Lunch: Ian’s two-slice pigout with a Coke (that’s a regular coke). I’m struggling to not go back and buy a second Coke. It tasted fucking good and it’s 2p and I haven’t gotten my usual mid-afternoon slump. I credit the caffeine to this. I’ve gotta have a Coke! Clearly I'm stress eating. Clearly.

Music while writing: Laptop music shuffle
”Catherine Says” – the Aisler Set
“Panty Lines” – Sonic Youth
“Suspended From Class” – Camera Obscura
“Hairdresser on Fire” – Morrissey – which reminded me of listening to that tape on a rainy day at the old house when I was fifteen. Could I even imagine that I would be here half a life away? How did I get here? How the fuck did I become the person I am?

Ah, the ongoing drama that is my life.

Tonight I’ll go to knit at the coffee shop only because I told a cute boy at a party last weekend that that’s where I’d be. He says he wants to “re-learn” how to knit and wants me to teach him. Will he remember to show up after two weeks have passed since he talked to me? We’ll see.

I was going to ask another crush du jour out for lunch too. He has a similar political job and a positive attitude that I respect and I’d talked with him casually for a while now. Didn’t know the status though. The last time I tried to be clever in asking someone out, I wound up on a date with a married guy who wasn’t too forthcoming about his relationship issues. So I was very calm when talking to the du jour crush. I reminded myself to treat him like a person, not a project. A human, not a game. Although it is really a discipline to do this. It’s easy to get caught up in strategy when you’re stuck in this silliness of how boys want to chase and don’t want to be chased and yet you are supposed to let them know that you’re interested without being threatening (I’m very, very good at scaring them off – when it comes to dating, I’m like a five year old with arms flailing, screaming at a full run into a crowd of geese. It’s just not the way to make them stay).

So anyway, I remained very balanced when speaking to him, all the time making conversation to try to poke around at what the status might be. No “we” talk (single?). No wedding ring (gay?). Said something about “our” pet (coupled?). Got the clarification that he was talking about a childhood dog (phew!). Casual dresser (straight?). Abercrombie jeans (gay?). Too much! Too much second guessing! When conversation turned to our respective living situations, he mentioned moving in with a boyfriend. Ah yes. The boyfriend. But the point is that I made nice, semi-personal conversation before I made a total ass of myself in asking him out. Right? Aye.

This weekend was interesting. Fun party with the girls on Friday. Was designated driver, mostly due to diet reasons rather than a charitable effort for my friends. Regardless, there were four other drunken girls in my car on Friday night. Fun. Watched the first season of Lost all weekend long in order to hide from Halloween craziness. Finally went out into the world on Sunday afternoon and fresh air and sunlight seemed weird. That’s a good weekend right there: when Sunday afternoon sunlight seems weird.

Scheduled my retreat for two days after the elections. I’m looking forward to going to a tiny cabin out in the woods to reboot. I’m taking a couple of non-political books, a tablet of paper and a couple of good pens, and my knitting. We’ll see if a 48 hour silent retreat will help with some transformation. How much transformation can some silence and $80 get you? I need to figure out what I’m going to do for food. It would be nice to eat something simple, like cereal, for the two days. But I’d just hit the McDonald’s as soon as the retreat was over. Hmmmm.

Weight status: 207motherfuckeryeah
Dress size: 16Wmotherfuckeryeah

Food yesterday:
Breakfast: two pieces of cinnamon toast with a cup of coffee eaten in bed while watching the rest of the first season of Lost

Lunch: three chicken tenders tossed with Shake n’ Bake (now that is a particular flavor of my youth), some spaghetti with sauce and some fresh parmesan, water

Dinner: spaghetti leftovers, water

Food today:
Breakfast: protein shake

Lunch: coconut curry squash soup leftovers from this weekend, a couple of Wasa multigrain crackers, Hunt’s snack pack pudding!, Coke zero

Music while writing:
Changed from Christmas oldies to some classic oldies Latin station on-line,
http://www.live365.com/stations/augustus

Not much to report today. I’m having a pretty good hair day and that makes me happy. I broke another nail. This makes me sad. I’m wondering if I’ll have the patience to grow out both my hair and my nails this year. These are the things I think about when I’m on the toilet.

I can’t figure out why I can’t make a good cup of coffee in the morning. I can’t figure out why my daily routine isn’t satisfying. I wish I could have one of those days that just sail by without hiccups. Easy flow. No running late in the mornings and dragging my ass into work at 10a. Working out in the evenings and not trying to pack it into the day. Eating regular, real meals rather than having two glorified snacks and one pig out during the day. No dinners that start at 8:30 p.m. I’m taking a few days off next month and I’m hoping to do some kind of a retreat or something. I need to reboot.

Weight status: 208.4
Dress size: 18W

Food yesterday:
Breakfast: bowl of Special K and tea with cream. Tried to eat some yogurt with the new granola from Trader Joe’s, but couldn’t stand the yogurt.

Lunch: two slice pizza pig out at Ian’s.

Dinner: had some roasted potatoes and a small salad. I’m becoming the roast vegetable master. Still had the munchies (I credit this to the fact that I have neither cigarettes in the house and the smell of the roasted potatoes totally lingered and smelled great – I just wanted to keep snacking!) so I ate some cheese and crackers and hummus later.

Food today:
Breakfast: drank a little orange juice and had some water after spending 30 min on the elliptical at the gym. I ate some more cheese and crackers and hummus as it is my current addiction.

Lunch: another major pig out. I’ve been craving a burger, so I ate a cheeseburger and beer batter dipped fries from the bar downstairs. I will be fat forever.

Music while writing: none today. Don’t need the distraction.