Rounding it up

Can it really be the end of 2007? It's hard to believe that just a year ago I moved to NJ after living in the same apartment in Glenside, PA for 9 years. The change in scenery and surroundings has completely turned my life around.

This calls for a list. The top 5 highlights of 2007 (in no particular order)
Note that technically, I moved to Collingswood in 2006, so the move itself doesn't exactly qualify.

1. Two Fantastic Friends
My newest friend Elizabeth and I were introduced late last winter by a mutual friend, and immediately felt like we had known each other for years. She's the kind of friend you can talk to about anything. Hours go by during our chat-fests, and I treasure every moment. Alison has been a friend for many years, but since my move to Collingswood we have bonded like sisters. 2007 simply wouldn't have been the banner year it was without her loving friendship.

2. Rock Climbing
It was something I had always wanted to try. And watching Bear Grylls do it on Discovery inspired me that much more. I'll never EVER forget my first trip up a rock face, with the circulation in my toes cutting off from the tight shoes, the comforting feeling of resistance in the belay rope, and the unexpected ease I felt nearly three stories up. It was beyond exhilarating. And I'll amend this entry by adding my first whitewater rafting excursion—another thing I always wanted to try, and finally found the motivation to do.

3. Cooper River Walks
I couldn't count the number of times I have visited the path surrounding the Cooper River. It's a mere three blocks from my place, and about a 4-mile loop around. I've used it to sweat, to think, to breathe, and to enjoy the view. I've seen egrets, scullers, sailors and sunsets. I've walked it jogged it, ran it and sat on the banks of it. I've photographed it too. Sometimes I go it alone, and sometimes Alison and her dog Neemo join me. With them it's more about talking—and sometimes swimming for Neemo—than walking ... but no matter the circumstance, it's always good. Beyond good.

4. Gatherings at My Place
In the 9 years I lived in Glenside, I could probably count on one hand the number of times I entertained more than 1-2 people at a time. In the year I've been in Collingswood, there's no doubt I've already surpassed that number, or even doubled it. It started on move-in day. There were at least 6 of us in a caravan from Glenside to Cwood, and after unloading everything, we stood around my new kitchen eating pizza and drinking beer... and suddenly I realized that this group of friends from all walks of my life were meeting for the first time and enjoying each other! Since then I've thrown several parties, had impromptu dinner gatherings, hosted 2 clothes swaps, and even sat 7 for Thanksgiving dinner! It's such a good feeling every time people gather here.

5. I'm Really a Jewelry Designer
Since I was a little kid, jewelry has fascinated me. My first earring designs were made from tape recorder parts when I was about eight years old. I've made lots of jewelry since then, but this year was my most creatively inspired year ever. Not only did I begin to develop a cohesive line of designs, but out of nowhere, a local gallery sought me out and invited me to show my work there. So between the gallery, launching my etsy shop and excellent friend/co-worker sales, I have suddenly found myself in the midst of having my own small business! I'm proud of what I've made, and I can't wait to see what I make next.

Items that almost made the list:
My fabulous porch, visiting the roof of the Kimmel Center, getting my tarot cards read, discovering the Discovery Channel, Perkins Art Center, and turning 40 (and the everlasting party that came with it).

2007 has rocked. So much has changed and improved for me this year. I have a few goals and aspirations for 2008, including lots more of all of the above, plus learning yoga, returning to Greece, canceling my online dating subscription for good, and quitting my 3-cigarette-per-day habit. CHEERS!!!

Put up a parking lot

A friend of mine and I were at the beach last weekend. It was Labor Day, so nearly everyone else in the Philadelphia region was at the beach with us. The weather was glorious, the water perfection. I couldn't wait to get to the boardwalk, though, to savor summer's last taste of my favorite confection: Kohr Brothers frozen peanut butter custard with chocolate sprinkles.

There's a Kohr Brothers on the Ocean City, NJ boardwalk at 10th Street. So we started looking for parking at around 6th. We drove all the way to 13th and back through to 2nd Street more than times than I care to admit, and everywhere we looked, someone else was pulling into a spot. But could we find one? Not on our custard-starved souls.

Finally, I pulled up behind one of the amusement park back entrances at 10th Street, put my flashers on, and we took turns running up to Kohrs while the other stayed with the car. It was surprisingly easy and went off without a hitch. We even got bold and drove up to 13th for Johnson's caramel corn. Again, easy as pie, very satisfying. And though part of me had hoped for a boardwalk stroll, our stealth maneuvers protected us from what could have been a chaotically annoying end to our lovely, serene day. The Ocean City boardwalk (especially on Labor Day weekend) is nothing short of a mob scene.

All of this struck me, several days later, as an apt metaphor for my life. I say I want the full experience -- chaos and all -- and I go about the chase of finding my place from which to launch the adventure, but I'm always one step behind everyone else. I watch the rest of the world secure their spots just before I get there, and there's nothing left over for me. Meanwhile, part of me feels like it's just as well, because somewhere in the back of my mind, all I really want is to grab an illicit, temporary spot from which to get the minimum, immediate satisfaction. Then I'm gone. No commitment to a lengthy stay required.

Dammit! I want to be ready to build a parking lot of my very own. A safe, secure place from which to launch any and all adventures life brings. A home base where my car will always have its spot. My tool belt is loaded with the appropriate stuff, and the bulldozer has leveled the ground. But it's a gravel pit until the right person comes along with the pavers to smooth the way.

Notes from July 10

1. Made it to CT in 3 hours flat. A new record.

2. My friend's husband backed into my car this morning on his way to work, and cracked my rear bumper. It needs to be replaced, but it's really no biggie. They are in a state about it.

3. Am almost definitely going to Greece next June. Woo hoo! My Athenean friend Poly and I have agreed to make a serious plan since she just moved into her own apartment. The last time I was there, the city was a mess. Since then, they cleaned it up for the Olympics.

4. The match.com guy I met just before leaving officially wants to go out again. Trouble is, he has boundary issues. On our first date he revealed that his first wife accused him and his sister of incest and picked fist fights, his former fiance stole his Xanax and then cheated on him, and his most recent girlfriend has money/credit trouble. If I go out with him again, what does it say about me?? Does it show my open-mindedness, my non-judgmentalness? That I can refrain from assuming that this guy is just a bad relationship waiting to happen and that people can change their patterns? Or does it show that I, myself, am moving from one set of bad dating patterns to being open to a whole myriad of new bad dating patterns??

5. Thankfully, I have been corresponding with a new guy on match who seems great. He's a rock climber, so now that I'm about to embark on my first climb, we'll have something cool in common. But it sort of brings to mind that scene from "Singles" where the woman buys a bike and all kinds of gear to impress her cyclist first-date and nearly kills herself riding to meet him. He ends up with her roommate anyway.

6. I taught my friend's eight year old the word crap yesterday. Didn't mean to. Told him not to tell his mom, which he promptly did. Apparently she had previously instructed him to tell her anything anyone ever said to him that included the phrase, "don't tell your mother." That Aunt Ev is such a bad influence.

match firsts

For the first time in my many (embarrassingly many) years off and on match.com, I'm corresponding with someone who turned out to be the friend of a friend. And a one-time fairly good friend. They haven't hung out in years, but still, it's nice to know that someone I love and trust has the skinny on my latest yet-to-be-met romantic prospect.

The other first for me is that I'm not frantically checking my match messages 100 times a day. I can honestly say that for as much as I'm very ready for love, I don't feel desperate! That's an even better first that the first one.

It also helps that my friend Alison keeps reminding me that:

1. I'm interviewing THEM, not the other way around
2. My healthy attitude is going to pay off in spades

These Alison-isms pull me through when the chips are down and I forget that I'm not desperate. Thank goodness!

Let the dating begin

So I bit the bullet and re-upped my match.com membership. I found a few profiles that looked unusually great, so I felt compelled to contact them. I'm excited about feeling excited about it!

I'm still not sure online dating is the best way for me to meet Mr. Right, though two of my closest friends have, so why not me too?!

So here I am, leaning on the one thing the tarot card reader said in April that I treasure most: "it's going to be easy for you from now on ... no more thieves, no more scoundrels, no more struggle."

From her lips...

How should I date?

After a long hiatus, I'm feeling ready to toss my hat back into the dating ring. Actually, I should clarify. I'm interested in a relationship, not just dating. The truth is, I hate dating. At least, I hate those first couple of dates -- when every move each of you makes (including what you decided to wear and what you decided to order for dinner) takes on vastly disproportionate levels of meaning, open to intense scrutiny.

I'd much prefer to jump ahead a month or so to the part where we're just beginning to explore our physical compatibility, and we feel comfortable enough to expose our real selves by wearing sweats and NOT wearing makeup.

It's all easier said than done though... because my biggest problem has always been FINDING someone to date. I'm sort of tempted to go back to the online dating thing (with which I've had off-and-on success, albeit short-lived)... but the recent trial of the guy who was accused of raping his dates freaks me out.

From ABC.com:

"A man who told dates he met online tall tales of being a doctor, an astronaut and a CIA assassin was convicted Wednesday of two counts of sexual assault but acquitted of raping several women who accused him of drugging them. Seven women, six of whom Jeffrey J. Marsalis met through the Match.com dating service, told similar stories of blacking out or becoming unusually intoxicated during dates from 2003 to 2005..."

Ideally I'll meet someone along the way, as I live my normal life. You know, like through mutual friends and such. It's the only true way to have a guy's "papers" so the above is less likely to happen. But that has only ever really worked for me once. I met a guy at a friend's party, and it turned into the longest relationship I've ever had.

And you know what they say -- it only takes ONE. It's true. I only need one! One guy to fall in love with. One husband. One possible father to my kids.

It's definitely incentive to wait it out again and hope to meet someone the old fashioned way rather than going back to the online thing.

I continue to be undecided about it. Any advice??

Cutie in the building

What do you do when you spot a cute guy in your office building?

I've seen this guy off and on for years, but months go by between sightings. The last time, which was probably last fall, we locked eyes on the street, but no words were exchanged. Like a school-girl though, I felt my pulse quicken and my eyes smile after the moment passed.

Since then, I've been convinced he got a new job. Not so much as a glimpse in months! Then today, he was walking back in with a co-worker, coming from what appeared to be an afternoon coffee run. We shared an elevator (he works on a floor above mine), and his co-worker was on a tear complaining about another co-worker. Cute Guy appeared slightly embarrassed to be associated with the rant. When my floor came, he held the door for me, and said, "sorry you had to listen to all the complaining."

I almost audibly gasped. He was making an attempt to engage me in conversation! I quickly replied, "that's ok, we all go through it!" He thanked me with a smile as the doors closed. Of course I wished I had said, "that's ok, here's my number!" instead.

Regardless, my pulse has been quick ever since. (can you tell how sadly starved I am for male interaction?!)

It will likely be months before our next encounter. I have no idea where he works, what he does, let alone his name, relationship status or even gender preference! Oh well. Nice to know there are cuties in my midst. It's been awhile since I had noticed.

Sunday recovery

I think of Sunday as the day of recovery. I do my best not to make specific plans on Sundays so as to be free to do whatever I a) have the energy for; b) needs to be done; and/or c) strikes my fancy. Such things might include anything from the obvious (reading the paper, doing laundry, grocery shopping, vacuuming) to the ambitious (creative projects, exercising, mopping the kitchen floor) to actual recovery from activities the night before (nursing hangovers, recapping with friends, napping, eating lots of chips, writing in my journal).

What am I doing today? A little of each. Currently, for instance, I'm dying my roots while catching up on my blog. I have written in my journal, talked to friends, eaten a fair amount of chips, read the paper and went to Walgreen's for shampoo, t.p. and Propel water (my favorite new recovery beverage).

See, last night's activities require some recovery. I'm not hung over (though I did smoke too much, for which a price must be paid). I'm a little groggy, considering I didn't get home until 3am. That I can handle. It's the disappointment that has me struggling. I had hoped last night would go differently, and I'm bummed. I thought the guy (it's about a guy, as if that wasn't obvious) was going to stay sober and he didn't. He said he quit drinking, and I believed him. He got drunk—so drunk he didn't realize how drunk he was, so tried to deny it. Hence, the fun, light, romantic, sexually-charged romp I was looking forward to didn't happen. The mood was killed. He blew it!

I'm sure it's just as well, and I'm better off, and all that. My heart's not broken or anything. Still, I need a day of recovery ... so thank goodness for Sunday.