There will be no walk of shame

Walking to dinner I told Andy I can't be in a relationship at all and I took my hand and made a fist and held it to his chest. It's like that inside, no tentacles to even reach out with. The mere act of expressing this bubble-headed thought unleashed a great rusty shift, leaving me with the urge to crawl up in bed with someone and feel his breath smooth my forehead, lips graze my neck. Madly, inexcusably, against all odds at the mercy of my capricious heart. But alack alas, at every opportunity I run. My heart is not frozen, it is in fact far too open. I don't trust my own judgment. Rather than make a mistake...I'm getting a dog. Love me love me love me.

Divorce Song

So this morning, inspired by my downstairs neighbor of the never-ending sound machine, I plugged into the random shuffle on my iPod. Never done that before. Just as I've retooled chapter 1, wondering if I've lost the thread, on comes Liz Phair's "Divorce Song." God has a funny sense of humor.
The new chapter one starts with a quote: "And the license said you had to stick around until I was dead. But if you're tired of looking at my face, I guess I already am." I'm noting this so that when I tell the story on Oprah, an episode on harmonic convergences, I'll have the proof of which came first.
And so, up with the white flag. I'm calling a truce with Chapter One. For now.

Que Ser-ra, Ser-ra

It's been a long time since going to an exhibition gave me chills.

The Richard Serra show at the MoMA just did, and I didn't even get to see what was on 6. The interior installations, the ones I could not photograph, were dizzyingly gorgeous, and I do mean dizzying. The curving steel landscapes caused my relationship to the floor to shift. These outdoor installations, simpler, made me want to climb trees.

Orange alert-SAVE ME FROM MYSELF

Internet dating has taken all the fun out of dating. Under the guise of, I don't know, preparedness, we now must "know" everything about our date before meeting. Want kids? Believe in God? Favorite color?

I pine for the pedestal. The blind crush. That teen-age feeling.

At a show the other night I happened to be sitting with a couple clearly on a match.com kinda date. "So, you have, what, two kids?" "That's right." Talk about showing and not telling. Last night I met up with a match. Oy. He actually said, "It's sad, but I've just become really very judgmental, I mean, there are so many single people out there." As if Internet dating has changed the number of single people, or even a single person's nature. I'm gonna guess this dude was judgmental long before he ever hopped online for love. I know I was.

That's why I want to suspend disbelief, and not just at the movies but in my own reality TV show known as right now. Where are thou, SPONTANEITY?

Facebook, take me AWAY!

A friend of mine said, "Hey, you should go on Facebook, it's a way to meet men." Naturally my first thought was, "Yeah, right, if I want to meet undergrads."

Sadly, I've become that...willing. Does that sound better than desperate?

So I started an account and suddenly I'm hearing from all these people. And, you know, "face" book, loads of pictures. I'm enjoying it. I am emphatically not meeting men, but so what?

Like all networking sites, it asks you to invite you contacts to join your network. Apparently I checked (or failed to uncheck) an agent to whom I'd sent my book proposal. Last night she wrote me to ask, uh, do I know you? I started to write back an apology, then I though, fuck that, and I pitched the book again. She responded by ASKING FOR THE PROPOSAL. Then, already this morning wrote a nice note (meaning not an auto response thing) to say she'd received it.

A very very very fine...room

But my successes with NYC men may not be looking so good if the phone call I just had is any indication...



This guy who asked me out months ago then never called, out of the blue he calls a week or so ago. It wasn't as if I'd been wronged, the guy said he'd come to my yoga class and when he didn't well, whatever. Frankly, he was a hot, fit, young guy. It was just what I needed when he expressed interest. God, do I WANT to find out the ways in which it's not going to work?




So, when he called and asked me out again, I said, "Sure!" Maybe Thursday. Then he didn't call again till Tuesday. Besides the fact that I had made other plans at that point, I must mention he'd sown a seed of doubt himself. As we were getting off the phone he said, hey, I bet ya think I won't call ya. I replied, quite honestly, that the thought hadn't crossed my mind. Well, not hearing from him, the thought definitely crossed my mind. Lodged might be a better verb for that.

I was on the other line when he called, and I told him I'd call back but it slipped my mind. Just now, today, almost a week later, he calls to say, "I just wanted to let you know I noticed you didn't call me back, so obviously you're not interested." OK, I'm not getting on the couch with this one, clearly, self sabotage/self esteem issues. But, hi, can you say cheeky monkey! I told him not to call me back. Ever. Can't a girl just have some fun?

A wonderfully misspent summer break...

Wrong number

I don't know what's worse, that I leapt for the phone at the wrong number I just got, or that I remembered wistfully getting wrong numbers in Qatar and India. The caller was almost always someone who wanted to talk to you, someone who thought you sounded pretty/nice/sexy.

That guy who just called? He hung up fast. Back to scanning my inbox for my match(.com).

I just turned down a chance to work in France for a month for this?

O F*CK IT

The internet has made heartbreak so much less of a burden.

Feeling scorned by that guy you've been working SO HARD to get to flirt back with you? Get over to match.com and feel instantly better at the proliferation of choice. Just don't do it with a buddy in case, god forbid, that becomes another contest to fail. Not that any of this applies to me. I'm just saying.