Hiding out at Cafe Express

Here I hide. Just tonight. Typically courageous enough to tackle my life. But tonight I hide. I can't really handle it tonight. The misery that my life has become. And I think and wonder what I did to deserve this life of mine as I light one cigar off of the next. I'll probably sit here all night wondering. I see my friend OT, and think of calling his name, but then again, I'm hiding.

Here is the list of things I've done wrong in my life- frank and honest:

1. Sex before marriage- yep, it's my vice. Still is. It's easy for me to give my body away to anyone who seemingly wants to take it.

2. I cheated on Person A with Double B's for months while he was MIA. He never forgave me, although I think he forgives me now. I was, however, completely faithful to a fault when we were married. I can say that with conviction.

3. I don't pray anymore, or serve my Faith. I was burned in my divorce by the people who claimed to be followers of my Prophet and I think it damaged my relationship with God.

4. I started drinking, but only liquor and only Luxardo Sambuca. I'm serious about it. I just like the way it tastes. It actually sucks that it has alcohol, because I really dislike drinking altogether, and the things it does to people.

5. I threw my old boss under the bus because someone point blank asked if I thought she was doing a good job and I said "no" I was just being honest.

6. I don't talk to my parents as often as I should because I feel like they'll just worry about me.

7. I keep running away hoping to find something better- shocker I know.

I'm looking for a job. In another part of the country, only I don't know where to go. Do I want the big city again- I can certainly navigate it. Although I dream of living in Terre du Lac again, on the lake and working a part-time job, driving my old car and being quiet. I think of by childhood friend Julie who's mom went and lived on an island off the coast of Washington for 3 years and water colored everyday in order to re-group. But how many times am I going to re-group? Can't I just get it together? Maybe I should start writing the book. Or maybe my grandmother would give me the money to live for a while. I keep praying for someone to sweep me up and give me some aid- not monetarily, but in life in general.

Please don't let them destroy my house

That's a direct quote from my aunt whom with I live. She has gone away for the weekend to Martha's Vineyard and my 25 year-old cousin was granted permission to throw a party here at the house. This house is a beautiful house, please keep that in mind. A 100 year-old carriage house in a little village just north of NYC. It is very quaint and very cute. After an entire day of thirty 25 year-olds descending on it here is the scene:

- ping pong table in the front yard with a thick coating of beer from numerous rounds of beer pong
- slip and slide with hose made for 6 year-olds
- 4,000 empty beer cans
- every dish, cup and utensil from my aunt's kitchen strewn all over the front porch
- food particles laying all over her wrought iron table
- loud music blasting from the front porch
- hooping and hollering from yet another intense game of Beer Ruth

I tried my best to keep everything clean as we went, fulling cleaning after round one of eating. Round two ensued when I was taking a nap at 8pm and now the task of picking up is way too daunting. Tomorrow morning is not going to be fun.

Rain rain go away

I'm sure you'll be back some other day (sooner than I would like)

So it has literally rained every-single-day since I moved here three months ago. The only time it does not rain is when I am in Houston or DC. Even if the day starts off sunny you can be assured that it will end with a shower.

There are two things I should have purchased the minute I got into this crazy rainy city: 1. a rain coat and 2. UGGs.

I think everyone in the city is suffering from that syndrome where you get depressed from not enough exposure to the sun (Gold Reeves could you please chime in and give me the name). A lot of people in Alaska have it apparently, but now it has caught on in NY- like a trend.

I'm depressed especially now because the poor US Open is getting rained and flooded out. It's insane. I don't think this has ever happened in the history of golf. It's madness!

If your name is Courtney or Mazza and you are coming to visit this weekend- bring you waist high rain suit, galoshes and an umbrella!

I am looking for

A bright green comforter. Grass green to be specific. Please send in your submissions. I kind of like this one from Crate & Barrel...

I need one of these

for my golf bag of course.

Best closers

____________________________________________
Message Typed by Old Thumbs, So Forgive Misspellings

This was the signature line on an email I received from an old guy. I love it!

Rootless Tree

I've been formulating this blog entry in my head for weeks now. Unsure how to capture just what it is that I'm going through in this phase of my life.

Then the other day KK sent me this video.


And I realized that maybe I'm just a rootless tree.

So the gist of my entire being right now is that I woke up the other day wondering if this is it. As in...is all I have to look forward to everyday in this world getting up and going to work? Climbing the corporate ladder? I mean what if life deals me nothing more? Can I get ok with this? I just don't know.

The last time I was in Houston and spending an evening with The OZ, I realized that I don't really have the feelings for him that I once thought I would or could. On this night I felt sad that I didn't want anything more to do with him than maybe hanging out here and there. There was no pain in my stomach, no sorrow to leave on a plane the next day, nothing really. But the overwhelming feeling that I did have was that I might never feel love again. Here I've been hung up on this person for nearly a year and I wasn't feeling it. My stomach may never jump after anyone. And there may not be another person that I actually desire to spend every moment with. On the other side of the coin...no one may ever love me, adore me, or think I'm really great. Then this sadness lead to other realities, like I will wake up in an empty house every morning. I'll never have the pitter patter of little feet throughout my days. And my poor poor brother will be the only one who will be around.

It may just be a short period that this goes on for, but for the last month I've been dealing with it, hoping something will pull me out. But I may just be a rootless tree forever.

Dear Most Favorite Person

Today is probably my favorite person on the Earth's birthday. Every year on my birthday I get a card from you that reads something like this:

puzzles.israeli coffee.goodonya.zereshk.shoes.you can sleep when you're dead.tea.dido.bahai dictionary.passionate.lemon almonds.kathy grammer.salt & vinegar chips.bbq stains on my white t-shirt.lime.lime.lime.turkey plucking.haifa.hour glasses.birds.cameras.pomegranate.laugh 'til you can't breath.articulate.lovely day.pumpkin pie.blogging.gazza.dance parties while mazza sleeps.self worth.hatzionut.sour lollies.intuitive.seeds.lemonana.strong woman.

And I wish I could find the words to express how lovely, wonderful, amazing and strong this woman is, but it will never add up to the whole and entirety of who you really are! I love you and hope you had a fabulous day!

Trust

A couple of weeks ago I was told my a pshycic that I have major trust issues. I found it interesting that this was like the first thing out of his mouth after getting my date and time of birth.

My initial response was to deny it of course. And so I did verbally. But as soon as it came out of my mouth I knew I was lying. And I thought about trust on a much deeper level- and realized that I trust very few people to the core of my being. I have, thus far, identified three people who I feel I could completely lay my life in their hands and I feel confident in my safety and well-being. These individuals would actually put my life before theirs. Complete and unconditional love actually exist between me and these people. I rarely put myself in situations, and in fact hate to put myself there, where I actually have to rely on someone else for anything. But on every occassion they have come through for me. If they say they will be there, they are there. If they say they will do something, it's done. I don't have to bat an eye, it doesn't have to stay on my brain for one more second. They don't cancel plans and they aren't late. And the only thanks I can give is to extend the courtesy right back to you.

Eternally Grateful

Thank you Julie Dee Smith for the gift of this song, which is so fitting for my life right now. I am currently listening to it no less than 12 times a day.

A crowning moment in my life

Observations

1. New Yorkers need to start using salt- everything would taste much better
2. I didn't realize, until today, how dirty your feet can actually get when traipsing around the city in flip flops
3. Whether I'm sleeping on the train or engrossed in a newspaper, I am always alert and looking out the window when crossing over the Hudson River
4. It has rained nearly everyday since I have lived here, that's about 8 weeks folks
5. Life is much better now that I have an IPOD again
6. This city has made me become the incredible shrinking woman- everyday there is a new pair of pants or skirt that just doesn't fit anymore
7. I think New Yorkers are meddlers in general- like someone is always in your business when they shouldn't be
8. I actually miss Houston- yes I said it
9. I woke up the other morning and realized that once again, I have no where to thwart my love
10. I'm going to post about 12 entries today, thus making me the ultimate slacker at work

I needed that

Dear B.J.,

Thank you for the non stop stream of entertainment today. Our New York Office sucks a bit, and I'm really down about being here right now. But the joy that I received from the initial email, then the follow up story and the final comment of the day kept me going.

Thank you!

Jen

Excuses, excuses- Part 2

"You will beat me! I have accidentally loked me out of my bedroom. My neighbor is trying to help me unlock it, but so far not successful." -this an exact quote from our good friend Ms. Rita, the excuse giver.

I, of course, promptly forwarded this to Gold Reeves, who in turn sent me this reply email:

"dddddyyyyyyying of laughter.
holymolycakes."

So between the material that B.J. and I have compiled and Gold Reeves' new business contact, we believe that the long awaited coffee table book entitled (but only after numerous revisions) "My dog ate a raw and a half potato, and other Great Excuses to be Late to the Office" should be arriving in book stores by the end of the year.

And just in case you were wondering what the whole story of above mentioned "locking out of the bedroom" was, well...it's better than anyone could have imagined:

She was about to get into the shower when sweet pea took her knee-high out of her shoe on the floor and started running away with it. She had to chase the dog down, afraid she would choke on said stocking, and closed her bedroom door on the way out so the dog wouldn't go back in there and get into anything else. Naked in her living room, she realized the door was locked and couldn't be opened. Luckily, there was a box of garage sale clothes in the garage that she rummaged through in order to get to the neighbor's house to ask for assistance. Neighbor came over and saved the day by removing the hinges, not jam, and let her back in her room where the shower had been running for two hours. --Narrative by B.J.

My weekend in Washington

Last weekend I accomplished the following:

1. Hung out with a great friend
2. Ate some really good food- Lemongrass fish, with a side of man sauce
3. The shopping victory of the year
4. Bought a great antique watch- it's a wind up, but it's the best watch I've ever had, with a price tag of $9.95
5. Made a beaded bracelet with fourteen 8 year-olds
6. Caught up on much needed sleep
7. Filled myself with love from the Bahaiim
8. Saw a great concert
9. Did a drive by on the big white house
10. Decided that I really liked DC

Vocabulary Entry #2

Please keep in mind that this is a direct quote in reference to a partner's son:

"He is the splitting image of his father."

A victory like none other

The last 8 months of my life have been filled with crazy dating scenarios which I have refrained from disclosing completely to protect myself while in the midst of my divorce. Now that everything is final, I might start sharing some of them, as they are highly entertaining. The few people that I do share these vignettes with laugh out loud because, as unbelievable as it is, yes, the world is filled with men like the one I am about to write about.

I'll call him Oz...that is his name, even though it seems very made up. Oz and I met last summer at a bar/lounge in Houston that I was frequenting. I was actually interested in his friend, who was very good looking, and not so much into Oz himself. But somehow Oz wound up with my number and came to the house that night to hang out with Julia and I and whoever else showed up at the Beverly Hill Hotel, as it is now called. It was 4am and the next day I probably had the biggest gig of my life, the 500 person wedding with 8 performances. And yet I stayed up talking and making out with Oz all night. I think I slept 3hours that night (shocker). At 9am I woke up Oz because I had to go- he begged me to stay for 10 minutes more, but I refused. The reality was that I had a big day ahead of me and you, whom I just met, are very insignificant.

Two days and many text messages and phone calls later, Oz spent the night at my house and then proceeded to fall off the face of the planet. I will spare you most of the details but a typical week would go like this:

Receive text message from Oz
Respond
Get NO response from Oz
See him out at a club that night
Make plans to hook up at 3am after clubbing and late night eating was over
Oz passes out in his car somewhere and never shows up- supposedly
Oz calls the next day to apologize, Jen sets the record straight
The whole cycle starts all over again

Then things get really strange... I start seeing him everywhere that I go. I can't go to a bar, a club, a lounge, an eatery, anywhere on any given night of the week without him showing up. And I'm just minding my own business- not even looking for him. Then, at some point when I see him out, he starts completely ignoring me. Acting as if he has no idea who I am and yet, every time I whip around on the dance floor at a club he's staring right at me. I can't get away from him and I can't get close to him. It begins to drive me mad. So I go into extreme combat mode- I too begin to completely ignore him while out.

Then I move.

Then I go home for a visit last weekend. I'm not in Houston for an hour and see his car at the CVS when Julia and I stop to pick up some asprin or something. There was no actual spotting of his face, since we avoided him and got in and out as quickly as possible, but nonetheless...he was around. That night at VanBuuren we look below our stunning VIP Booth and see he and his best friend standing and looking up at us. Then Saturday night I drive past the late night eatery and there is his car, again. I had to seize the opportunity. I went in to find him alone sitting at the bar eating. With no hesitation, I just plopped down next to him and started talking. We walked out and I said "well, I guess I'll see you in 6 weeks." He looked puzzled and asked why I would see him in 6 weeks. I said, well I don't live here anymore but will be back for a visit in 6 weeks, and in case you haven't noticed, we have the same social schedule and I am sure that I will run into you. I also made a couple of other references about his incessant going out and "misbehaving", comments which he was highly offended by. Comments which prompted him to walk around to my side of the car, put his hands on either side of my face and stick his tongue down my throat. I WIN! Finally victory is mine. At some point, I pulled away and said "I have to go now" and got in my car and drove off as quickly as I could, shaking after the whole scene. I didn't care what happened after that. I just know that I won. About 5 minutes later I get the first text message, summoning me to him to continue what we had started in the parking lot. I, of course, oblige because I just couldn't resist. The next morning I woke up, informed him that I had to go, kissed him and left him standing in his apartment alone and am still feeling the pangs of the victory.

Tales from the Train

Every morning I wake up at 6:30, shower, get dressed, make my coffee and rush out the door with my Aunt and Cousin to head into the city. My Aunt and I find seats on the train and nestle in for the 50 minute commute to Grand Central Station.

I've gotten to be a real commuter over the last four weeks. There is a whole strategy involved in mastering the public transportation system in NYC. You know you are accomplished when you can identify the exact spot on the platform where the doors for the train will open, and select which end of the train you will take your seat on according to where you will be heading once you arrive, and when you get the point where you don't even look at the conductor when he's asking you for your ticket, but instead flash the inside of your wallet at him-- you've arrived. You must always read something on the train. If you aren't reading, you are clearly an amateur. Also, there is no talking. If my Aunt and I are on the train sipping our coffee and reading the Times and two women get on who are talking, we look at each other and mouth the words "talkers" to each other, snicker and look back down at the paper. There is also a whole strategy in choosing the right seat and maintaining some personal space around you. We have it down. We sit in the seating areas right by the doors with seats facing each other and place our bags on the seat beside us- then we honker down and read. We have figured out that if you create an invisible force field of attitude around you, you get to retain your space. It's an art form at this point.

Then there is the crisis and victory which goes along with professional commuting. The other night I was hanging out with a co-worker watching basketball until late. Now I don't have a car so once I get off the train at home, either my aunt has to pick me up or I take a cab from the station to her house. Well I didn't realize the cabs stop running so early from my normal train stop, so I reserved a cab from a larger station in the next town over for 1:00am. I had to catch the 12:06 to make it in time. It was a Friday night and I was about 18 blocks away. I left the bar with plenty of time to catch a cab and make it to Grand Central for the train. But every cab was already taken, so I started walking in the direction of G.C. thinking that at some point I'll grab a cab the rest of the way. Well I didn't and the next thing I know it's 11:59 and I am 6 blocks away. So I start running with a huge bag that contains any earthly possession you might need when commuting - an umbrella, a change of shoes, copious amounts of reading materials. And I run into Grand Central glance at the board see that my train is on the first track inside the doors and make a B-line for the gate. I run onto the train just as the beeping sound started going off and the doors started to close. I MADE IT! Victory!

The next night I went into the city to shop and hang out and caught the 9:22 back out to Chappequa. Well... I wasn't in a hurry this night because I had a rental car at the lot and didn't have to pay for a cab or ask my aunt to go out of her way to get me late. And then, I fell asleep on the train. I've never done that before. And as I wake up, we are pulling away from my stop where I have a car and am only 10 minutes from my bed. So I had to get off at the next stop- the stop with all of the cabs, pay to take a cab back to the other train station and delay my sleeping time by 35 minutes. Crisis.

The thing about public transportation is that there is always something crazy to experience.

An article I read today

Today I was reading on the train- par usual. I read an article about how this 17 year old in the UK painted a gigantic penis on the roof of his house hoping that it would show up on Google Earth. A helicopter pilot happened to spot it from the sky and reported the art to the owner of the house, the boy's father. When the father asked "son, did you paint a penis on our roof?" the boy responded "oh, you found it?"

I have yet to stop laughing.

A weekend to remember

There are so many details to share about this last weekend in Houston. Needless to say I was in rare form, outdoing myself every second- and a bit out of control. Here are my stats:

Dancing- 9 hours total
Making out with my boyfriends- 6 hours total (don't judge me)
Sleeping- 5 hours total
Getting my house together- 6 hours total
Just hanging out- 20 hours
Flying time- 7.5 hours total

It made for a great 48 hour period of my life.