You Know What I Mean, Right?
You know when you just feel discouraged? And you just sit at your desk and make to-do lists and then shuffle the to-do lists around with the piles of paper that you keep stacking and moving? And then you check your email, and when no messages appear, you start purging the old ones? But then there are still about 12 persistent messages that don’t belong in any folder and can’t quite be deleted because they give you guilt and remind you of non-urgent things you really could be doing but have chosen not to?
And all the while you’re worrying about approximately 18 million upcoming stressors, but not doing anything about them, because they seem far away and actually doing anything about said stressors just highlights their existence? And you feel so discouraged that you go through the "props" folder in your email and read all the nice things people have written to you, and then you remember that in fact you
are a capable and appreciated person, even if you feel bereft at the moment, and that just makes you feel even
more bereft, because it's such a fucking waste to be capable and well-loved and yet unhappy?
Posted by Dori at 11:25 AM
Seven Deadly Sins
I found this on a list of "Memes" which provide fodder for bloggers who have stumbled upon boring patches in their lives. While I don't know how to "tag" other bloggers, I'd love to see some others tackling this sin inventory!
Pride: apparently this is also known as Vanity, is simply the excessive belief in your own abilities.
This is not a big problem for me. I can be vain about my appearance, but this vanity is completely undermined by my hatred of my thighs and my ongoing worries about my complexion. I'd say, overall, that I am
under-confident in my abilities, and too frequently attribute success to luck and failure to my shortcomings, although this is changing as my emotional health improves.
That said, I can behave in a way that could be perceived as (and sometimes is) high-minded, prideful, or snobby. I admit I have disparaging feelings about carnations, action movies, and people who don't spell-check. But I hope these feelings are offset by my love and appreciation for Dunkin’ Donuts,
trashy TV, and Target. I also admit that I find it hot when people have fancy degrees from fancy schools. Perhaps this is classism more than pride.
Envy: Envy is a big one. I make the distinction between jealousy (wanting what others have) and envy (which is wishing ill upon those who have what you want). I
definitely don’t wish ill upon those who are fortunate/successful, but I do experience gut-twisting jealousy, especially in situations where I’m faced with former-models-cum-investment-bankers-with- luxurious-homes-in-East-Longmeadow-and-hot-husbands. (I was in this situation on Sunday. The woman in question was my age, phenomenally beautiful, and a graduate of my college). My desire to be married and own a condo with a large, modern kitchen can be overwhelming, even while I KNOW I am very, very lucky already in so many ways.
Anger: As I’ve discussed, I’m rarely angry. I get upset about some dynamics in my family, but, other than some
occasional outbursts with my landlords, anger isn’t a big part of my life.
Sloth: Umm … it’s 11:51 and … I’m blogging …?
Greed: See envy, above.
Gluttony: A big one. I love almost all food, and I can behave like a real pig if faced with a whole wheel of goat’s milk brie from Whole Foods or good French fries (OK, let’s me honest—I can behave like a pig in MANY other eating situations). When pizza is served, I always politely take one slice and then “babysit” the pizza to determine the exact moment in which it would be appropriate to take another piece.
Lust: Have you read this blog, I mean, at all? Lust is fascinating. While I’m pretty selective about expressing my own lust, I am NOT selective about thinking, writing, and obsessing about it.
So, knowing all this, do you still like me?
Posted by Dori at 12:11 PM
Bowling Together
So do you all know about the much-lauded research by Robert Putnam, author of
Bowling Alone? He posits that "we sign fewer petitions, belong to fewer organizations that meet, know our neighbors less, meet with friends less frequently, and even socialize with our families less often. We're even bowling alone. More Americans are bowling than ever before, but they are not bowling in leagues."
Since the book was published, many critics have argued that citizen participation remains vibrant, but that it's taken new forms--and even Putnam now acknowledges this. But still, there's a lot of talk about the general apathy and cynicism surrounding civic life and the political system.
As you've gathered from my vague and (hopefully) stalker-deterring-non-specific work-related posts, I do a lot of work with small-town politics, and one of the hardest aspects of my job is to get residents to speak up for progressive causes. This is a real departure for me, since I was never politically active until I took a graduate school class on civic engagement, and then got roped into volunteering on several successful, power-to-the-people local political campaigns (my favorite: an openly gay 24-year-old beating out a crotchety, long-term incumbent who'd been in office, doing essentially nothing, for almost a decade). Before that, I'd never voted in a local election, and I didn't know the names of my state reps, much less my alderman.
But I digress. At work, we were crushed in our first advocacy effort (a real travesty, which still makes my blood boil when I think of it), and then soundly defeated on an ill-fated ballot initiative. On Tuesday night, I attended the last of three public hearings about the fate of a vacant city-owned lot--which could be auctioned off for profit, or redeveloped for the greater good. The Aldermen compromised, and decided to auction it off and then use the proceeds for the greater good. But then we had to ask: what percentage of the proceeds? Would anything prevent the construction of a hideous condo complex?
Alas. A group of residents came together. They approached my organization. With our help, they mobilized. They circulated letters, submitted a petition, and contacted their aldermen. And then they attended--and spoke passionately at--three hearings, the last of which had a packed agenda, such that the fate of the lot wasn't discussed until 11:30 p.m.. We all sat through riveting discussions about City Council rules of order and municipal health insurance. Then we enjoyed a scintillating presentation entitled "Tax Assessments: How and Why."
Then, finally we had a chance to say persuasive things, and watch the wheels of democracy churn, and celebrate when the decision was made to auction off the lot and give all of the proceeds for the greater good, while stipulating that any new construction fit with the character of the neighborhood.
The next day, one of the leaders of the efforts sent a thank-you message to everyone involved. He wrote that the City had given a Valentine to all the disadvantaged residents in Town. I started crying happy years, because the power of a small group of amazing people really did make an impact. Some people really do care, and sometimes they can influence the Powers that Be to make good decisions. In the scheme of things, this vacant lot is a tiny drop in the ocean of injustice, but it meant a lot to me.
And it made Valentine's Day suck a lot less.
Posted by Dori at 10:42 AM
So Complicated
Growing up, I loved the Bangles song “Complicated Girl”. And I’m similarly fond of Avril Levigne’s homage to complexity (aptly called “Complicated”). When I was younger (like, in elementary school), I used to assert that I’m not weird, I’m
complex. This seemed, and seems, like a step up.
This weekend, during a wistful discussion of romantic prospects (or, in my case, the lack thereof) I observed that not only am I a challenging, multi-faceted person (OK, I know, angsty and emotionally tangled), but I’m drawn to similarly complicated men. For me, a drug-like euphoria surrounds the discovery of secrets and suffering in a guy’s past. Not only do I feel more secure knowing that he’ll empathize with my own craziness, but I find it exhilarating to be trusted, to hit pay dirt when probing around in his psyche. My favorite social activity is bonding. Whether it’s with a friend or a love-interest, I find it so rewarding to learn about people’s beliefs and experiences. It’s renewing to have meaningful interactions and not just trade updates. I’m drawn to the challenge of understanding people in the context of what they’ve been through.
And I admit I enjoy being an emotional Florence Nightingale. You know those girls who are attracted to gay men because they want to be a pinnacle of womanhood and “convert” them? Or the ones who go for jerks because they think they alone can find and tap into their hidden goodness? Well, I’m a little like that. I’ve loved a lot of very sensitive, very damaged people, and I’m drawn to the idea of being SuperGirlfriend, the One Who Changed Everything. What can happen, though, is that SuperGirlfriend doesn’t get any of
her needs met because she’s constantly dealing with the guy’s neuroses. I’ve been there, and it sucks. But when they're good, complications can be very, very good--involving staying up really, really late; and having long phone conversations; and musing about the other person during boring work situations. Yum.
One of my friends, who is as angsty and anxious as I am, is in love with a very steady guy with no issues. Apparently he
really has no issues (as opposed to just being repressed). I can’t imagine being with someone like that. The Guy I Was Kissing and With Whom I Just Achieved Mutual Closure had a similarly easy demeanor. Even though he referred to a scandalous past (the whole
Scandinavia thing), his behavior was awash in normalcy. I couldn’t get into it. I felt I couldn’t tell him anything very important. He had this wonderful, momentarily sedating effect on me, which would wear off and turn into frustration about our inability to bond. So I think I should add to my online dating profile. I am one complicated girl, seeking a similarly (but not overly) complicated guy.
Posted by Dori at 4:01 PM
California Dreamin'
So I am planning a vacation to California. I hope that I can get on the flights I've painstakingly identified, and that the I'll achieve the delicate balance between the schedules of my friend in LA and my friend in Sacramento. Until I have my e-ticket in my hot little hand, I will not be resting easy. And even then, I will not be resting
too easy, because my luck thus far with vacations? Not so stellar.
Where to begin? Well, there was the ill-fated trip to the Dominican Republic, in which I joined my boyfriend and a huge group of his fellow Spanish Veterinarians on Spring Break. The five days of fun and sun at the all-inclusive resort were pretty much ruined when we broke up on Day 3.
There was the "off season" trip to the Balearic Islands, in which I and one of my study-abroad friends essentially shivered for a long weekend, while stranded at a resort, miles from anything other than groups of German retirees and the beach with its freezing cold wind and water. Oh, and we were bored, since every single tourist attraction shut down for the season. And we had nothing to wear, other than our sarongs and sandals.
In 2001, I went to my friend's wedding in Spain. The wedding was on 9/12. I didn't know how and when I'd get back to the U.S. Mine was one of the first flights to land at Logan airport after the terrorist attacks, but I was prepared for some camping in transit, or a trip home via Newfoundland.
I think I've already reported on my
ill-fated trip to Jamaica, which was so bad that my friend N. and I tried to defect a day early. Then there was the Violent Food Poisoning Incident of Istanbul. And then there was my
last trip to California, which coincided with the tragic death of a friend-of-a-friend.
Of course, I have traveled a lot in my life, so probably statistically, I've had the same proportion of bad vacations as the average person. But I'm still a wary and pessimistic chick, so I'll only be
really, confidently excited about my vacation once it's over, and I've landed happily back in Boston.
Posted by Dori at 9:51 AM
Wonders Never Cease
So I have two amazing things to report.
1) My foster car has gone back to its rightful family. After over a year of taking care of a 1992 Volvo for its absentee owner, I sent that badboy back to NYC, where it belongs, and where it is not eating up $100 of my monthly income to be parked off the street. That car helped me overcome much of my fear of driving. We had some good times, between the parking tickets, the
automotive humiliation, and the
vandalism. Now it's just me and my adorable Honda Civic, a car so cute it should be entered into some kind of pageant.
2) Last night, as I was putting away remnants of dinner, and reinstating all the clothes that have exploded from my so-called closet (I don't actually have a closet in my bedroom--it's a "closet area" defined by a curtain), the phone rang. And who should it be? You guessed it: the Guy I Thought Had Rejected Me. He wanted to come over, but I was preparing for Step N Sculpt class at the gym, and planning to follow that with some time in the steamroom, and then a healthy dose of
Project Runway. So he said he would call me tonight, and perhaps "swing by" if he's not too exhausted. He kept yawning, which he does a lot. This, I cannot stand. You know why? Because
I've had to work the last two Saturdays, and two evenings this week, and two evenings next week,
plus my job has lately thrust an unacceptable amount of pressure upon me. The Guy, however, is all exhausted by his run-of-the-mill 9-5 job, and some apres-work engagements. My heart bleeds.
Alas, I am all conflicted about tonight's potential encounter. Part of me wants to deflect the whole proposition, avoid a full-blown "we're just not compatible" conversation, and move on with my life. The other part of me whines: isn't it better to be hanging and making out with a hot gourmand then being single and celibate?
Posted by Dori at 3:22 PM
... It was nice knowing you ... but ...
Readers, I come to you tonight, fresh from a perfectly polite, smoothly executed, drama-free DISMISSAL from the Guy I
was Kissing. Well, I'm pretty sure. It was
really subtle.
Despite our multiple lovely encounters; our shared passion for travel, dairy products, and independent cinema; and, (at least from my perspective) our fabulous chemistry; I do not believe (nor did I ever
really believe) that we have much of an emotional connection. I was open to the possibility (per all your encouragement) that our emotional bond would develop over time. I was also
very open to the possibility that it wouldn't, but that at least I'd get a couple more weeks to enjoy his good food and good looks, until we mutually decided to part ways.
Alas, I'm pretty sure that time has come. On Friday night, he came over after both of our respective other plans had finished. We watched TV, despite my half-hearted objections (because it felt too whorish to just say, "Let's skip the preliminaries! I hate
The Simpsons! Anyway it's late! Let's get it on!). FINALLY we turned off the TV and then he interrupted some very satisfying kissing to ask me what kind of relationship I am looking for. I tried hard to convey that while I am, ultimately, looking for my soulmate, "there are lots of ways to end up there", meaning,
I'm perfectly happy making out and hanging out with you for as long as it's mutually convenient. His own response to the question was very vague and indirect. We did some more kissing and then he became very tired and went home. It was not a great evening, he even apologized for "being so lame".
Then today we had a wonderful walk and enjoyed some cake from Burdick's on a park bench overlooking the Charles, and then we went to Whole Foods to buy shrimp and lemongrass, which we then made into a delectable stir-fry at his apartment.
After which we watched a DVD in a very cuddly manner, but without kissing. After which he made it very clear that we needed to clean up the mess in the kitchen, and then that he needed to make a phone call, such that there was no protest at all when I put on my sneakers and headed for the door. He gave me a hug and said he'd call me this week.
Which, in extremely-polite-face-saving-drama-averting-boyspeak means:
it's been real.
(This may seem like a leap of logic to you, and it may very well be, but on every other occasion he's made concrete plans to see me again, and also there's been kissing. And one would expect that, over time, the kissing would evolve a little bit, and thus far it has not, which is so fucking
frustrating. So I have no choice but to attribute it to his multi-dimensional disinterest in me.)
And now, just because I'm me, I'd like to torture myself just a bit, and think it might also mean:
You're just not hot enough for me, not even for a few weeks of friendship with benefits;
You have bad taste in music and clothes;
You're strange and un-fun; or
You give off childbearing vibes and therefore frighten me.
I know, know, know I shouldn't care about this, but it still profoundly sucks. Oh, and the kicker? On Friday night he actually commented on my complexion.
Of all things. He nestled into my neck and said,
"you have such beautiful smooth skin."
Posted by Dori at 9:28 PM
"I Don't Know"--The New Theme Song to My Life
In reflecting on the last few weeks, I've noticed that I'm just awash in personal and professional ambiguity. Read on. Send me any answers you may have.
PERSONAL
Does the Guy I'm Kissing have husband potential?
Is it too early to establish whether he does or not?
Do I need to follow up with Bachelor #2, the lovely and smart entrepreneur to whom I sent a non-commital parting email, which left the door open for future contact?
Back to the Guy I'm Kissing: does he like me? A little? Too much?
Does he think I'm attractive? Is he revolted by my not-so-perfect skin, given that his complexion is perfect?
Does he think I'm a gold-digger because he keeps insisting on paying for things, and I've thus far been pretty unsuccessful in chipping in?
When I told him about all the sleepless nights I had in preparing for a recent work event, he said, all surprised, "I didn't realize you were so high-strung." How could one
not realize that? Am I misrepresenting myself? Is he seeing the real me?
PROFESSIONAL
Back to my copier purchasing decision: should I get the refurbished Sharp model or the newer Ricoh one? Is my Excel financial analysis correct in that they'll approach the same cost around year 7? Isn't $5,800 an outrageous price for a copier with an annual $542 service fee?
In a whole batch of emerging City politics--do I suck up or wage war?
Do I agree to take part in a fundraiser which would be a lot of work for a few thousand dollars, but would build connections with a cool colleague? Is a few thousand dollars pretty good in these days of donor fatigue?
Do I take on another annoying but potentially lucrative marketing project?
Do I collaborate with a group with whom I've forged a relationship, when I've just learned they do sucky work?
MISCELLANEOUS
What, exactly, is a hedge fund?
Do I do my own taxes (like last year) or go to H&R Block?
Why is there
another special election for the State Rep in my district?
What's the situation with Alito and what is going to happen now to my reproductive freedom?
Is this scarily warm weather a nice treat or a symptom of global warming?
Posted by Dori at 4:32 PM
