Normally I'm fairly good at taking an inconspicuous look at some guy I find rather attractive. I might be wearing sunglasses, pretend that I'm looking past him, and take the opportunity to check him out. Sometimes it just works out that he's looking away from me, and I can do a nice scan of admiration before he adjusts his gaze.
Normally. This time, however, it was as if I had donned the personality and smoothness of Basil Fawlty
As my co-worker Smiley and I were heading to lunch, I notice a rather attractive state trooper hanging around the lobby of my building. A state trooper that I hadn't noticed before. In an attempt at nonchalance, as well as chivalry, I switch places with my co-worker, positioning myself to open the door for her. And take a gander at this hot man.
In my haste to gawk, I completely forgot that I'm injured. In the arm about to be used to open the door.
*slam hand into door handle*
*wince in pain*
*exclaim loudly*
Heads turn to look at me. No longer can I pass off my "glance" at the state trooper. Busted? Party of one?
There's a lesson to be learned in almost all that you do. Even the most mundane, common, and routine actions can lead you on a path of learning. Let's take last night as an example.
When, at 3:30am, you decide that you absolutely must go to the store to purchase a "can't live without" item, and you decide to ride your bicycle due to the fact that you've had *way* too much to drink, and while en route on your bicycle, you decide that you absolutely must call a particular person in England...
wear a phone headset.
My office is getting new printers today. As such, a swarm of computer people descended upon us a short time ago, moving in concert, shouting strings of numbers and letters to each other. As I have found is always the case, there is one really handsome man mixed in with the rest of the "depths of the basement IT people."
At first I paid no attention to the commotion around me. I donned my headphones and fell into a Cure coma, only to be brought back to reality by an almost imperceptible tap on my left shoulder. I spun around, anticipating my gaze to fall upon a person who has not seen the light of day, nor a shower, for several days, if not weeks.
I made an uncontrollable doubletake as my eyes fell upon a well-groomed, well-dressed 6'1" man with dark hair and green, piercing eyes. "I need to install something real quick on your computer," he said. I knew it was just code for something else.
"Uhhh.... sure... no problem..." I stammered, and rose from my chair. He maintained eye contact for just a second too long, and suddenly I knew it wasn't just thoughts of peripherals and USB ports running through his mind. Or at least not the ones you buy at Radio Shack.
Within 15 seconds, he'd moved on to my officemate, but I knew he was still thinking of me. As I hear the computer team packing things up, getting ready to move to the next office in the building, I know he'll be back. He's just playing hard to get.
Damn... has it been that long since I've gotten laid?
"It's such a hard decision! The date may even not be fixed yet... [but] wanting to be in Texas is a really strong desire. Now that's a sentence I never thought I'd utter!"
Brit Boy is coming to Texas. The exact dates of the trip are still to be determined, as he has a number of events to schedule around, and he's having to make some decisions about which ones to bypass. Yes, he's doing a bit of arranging for this visit.
To say I'm excited is an understatement. To say I'm scared is an oversimplification. There are a number of thoughts and emotions running through my mind, not the least of which is a slightly bewildered anticipation.
As I've previously stated, I understand the parameters within which we're working. This is an affair. One which may not work. A short time ago I asked a very good friend how to determine what limit I should put on my actions in maintaining a connection. How do I know when these attempts become damaging to me? At what point am I forsaking something more attainable, something more present? How do I know when I need to just accept things as they were and cherish that? She smiled as she touched my arm, her eyes sparkling as she saw the tears threatening to spill forth from mine. She stated that there is no answer to that question. Perhaps I can have a little affair, perhaps such things do not work. But I must move forward, being true to my heart.
And so, I'm moving forward as I always do. Opening myself up to the possibility of something spectacular, albeit with limitations. Or something devastating. The challenge is that one never knows how things will turn out.
Therein lies the adventure. Therein lies the hope.
When I was younger, and I was struggling with a friendship gone sour, while I was dealing with many emotional issues, my mom took me aside. She sat me down and pulled out a bulging, tattered, and torn scrapbook. While it had obviously been meticulously pieced together, the years had not been gentle on it.
She set it on the table in front of her, placing one of her hands gently on its cover, the other on my arm. I must have rolled my eyes or made some similar teenage expression of annoyance for she quietly said, "Just bear with me a moment."
Even though I could tell that it had been a number of years since she had opened the book, she turned directly to the page she was looking for. She undid the fastening, gently removed a yellowed bit of paper, handed it to me, and simply said, "Read this."
On this faded and yellowed piece of paper, paper that had obviously been handled a number of times through the years, probably from her reading and re-reading its contents, was something that has stuck with me over the seventeen years since I first laid eyes on the words. I have paraphrased them to numerous people over the years, for I find them to be profound and essential to anyone and everyone.
“I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.”
I have Kitte Kaat to thank for finding the words for me again. As I read them tonight, fully, for the first time in many years, I can envision that angst-ridden, sad, and troubled child sitting at the kitchen table so many years ago. I can also see each and every friendship and relationship that I have let go because I realized that the particular relationship did not contain even a shred of the ideology contained in the above words. Thanks Kitte.
And mom, thank you.
There are certain words and phrases in the English language that I love. Just the ability to accurately and succinctly convey a thought, an emotion, or present a situation makes me smile. I was recently able to work the phrase, "It's just sweet ambrosia" into a conversation, and I had to giggle. It had taken me a week to do so, but it was an accurate descriptor of the current topic.
Heretofore, my favorite phrase has been, "Who do I need to talk to about buying a pallet of beer?" I get to utter this phrase once a year, as I go and gather the beer for my camp at Burning Man, and it always makes me happy. However, I think I have found a phrase that is giving the current front-runner a serious challenge.
"My ex-boyfriend is a porn star."
LA Boy has started doing porn.
Hrmmm... memories...
I was asleep. During the heat of the day in the desert, I tended to have a quick little lie down, storing up some energy for the long night that was always ahead of me (or just trying to recuperate from the previous night). Additionally, a massive dust storm had just rolled in, and while some ventured off to the playa to explore, the comfort of camp was calling me.
As Mama Kitte was spinning some groovin' tunes, I had flopped down on a futon mattress, next to Jellybean for a nice little rest. How long I slept, what went on around me, I don't know. What I do remember was the sensation of a rough hand up my sarong, cupping my balls.
I jolted awake, actually hitting the arm of the person trespassing on my genitals. He spoke softly in my ear, letting me know that I knew him. I groggily pushed his hand away from my wobbly bits and made motions for us to just curl up together. "Tired... not feeling good..." I said. "It's sleepy time..."
As he repositioned himself, I noted that he moved to ensure that my right hand was in contact with his groin. "Really?" I thought to myself. "Well, it's not like I hadn't kinda thought about this... wanted this... just not right now."
After a brief interlude of sleeping, I heard his voice in my ear again. "Let's go back to your tent." I wearily arose and began to move toward my tent. What made me get up, I'm not sure. I wasn't interested in sleeping with him, at least not then. I had yet to completely recover from the previous night's escapades, and truly was not feeling well. I stopped as we entered the shade structure my tent was under.
"No... I'm not feeling well. We're not going into my tent." I rested my head on his shoulder, and attempted to explain how poorly I felt.
"You're so sexy... Let me show you how sexy I think you are," he said as he caressed my arms, my shoulders, my back. I had always heard Latin men were romantics. This Uruguayan was definitely proving that.
And then he reached down, cupped my ass in his hands, and said "Let's go to your tent. This shouldn't go to waste."
The look on his face as I pushed him away, both hands on his chest and exclaimed "No!!!" was rather priceless. "Cuddling, ok. Sex, not gonna happen. I said I don't feel well, and I don't. Now excuse me..." And with that, I walked away, and he left camp.
