Resa's Rules for Dating (An Ongoing Process)

I'm learning a lot about myself through the men I'm around.
About my needs and my personality.
I am learning how I'm perceived by my sexy male counterparts.

Last week, laying next to my latest, our heads rested on separate pillows as we looked at one another.
Without saying anything we just stared into each others eyes.
What does that look mean? he asked.
Nothing, I responded.
You are a weird girl.
And I laughed.

This isn't the first time a lover has told me this.
Though I think crazy is usually more prevalent.
Though it's only been a couple weeks.
Give him time and surely that adjective will be added with all the rest.

One thing I have definitely resolved in the last few gents?
Physical Intimacy is a Requirement of Dating The Resa.
This may sound like a redundancy redundant statement, but I frequently find myself dating the unamorous guy whose got issues when it comes to canoodling.

I can't keep up with you.
You're like the guy in the relationship.
I am not healthy for you. You should not want to kiss me.

And all the while I'm wondering why we have to talk at all when we could shut up and let our bodies speak for us.

The longest, most intense, serious relationship I've had was with a guy who, from the beginning, couldn't keep his hands off me.
We made it two whole dates before sharing a kiss and to this day, he is the only person I ever "watched" a movie with three times in a row without stopping.
That would be Coffee and Cigarettes which I never actually saw until years later.

The last guy I spent four unblissful months with only spent a few weeks of that time sharing his mad whore skills with me.
I spent the rest of those months trying to hide my needs and urges for physical intimacy and accepted that our dates instead consisted of watching youtube videos of writers speaking on the importance of vulnerability.

How sexy.

Why, you ask the obvious, did I then stick around all those months?

Because precisely when I'd hit the wall of frigid indifference he'd toss me a tiny nectar of affection and I'd think maybe I'd FINALLY get my sexy whore's mad skills back.
Alas.
He was merely a 6'4" tease.

He doesn't deserve a penis.

Somewhere along the 8th circle of Dante's Dating Inferno I forgot what it was like when there was actually passion in my relationship.

Latest Guy has reminded me how crucial it is for me to be with a guy who wants my clothes off as much as I want him to take them off.
On our first date? He grabbed my ass.
On our second date? We made out in a park.
On our third date? Well......it was even hotter.

And did he need to talk about his feelings afterwards?
Or need to text me incessantly the next day?
Or take to instantly calling me Dear and Love so it felt like we were already in a relationship?
No.
Just good old fashioned hot dirty fun.

I have been a deprived woman for years.
I feel like I should send him a fruit basket or something.

And I know everyone has their opinions on dating.
And Mother tells me there are certain qualities I need to look for.
And books tell me the do's and don'ts of how to land prince charming.
And that's swell and I'm open to all of it but I have my own disclaimer that I am hereby never compromising again.

If a guy's appetite doesn't match mine?
I'm not gonna stick around hoping he gets hungry.
This woman will have her desserts.
Somebody somewhere shares my affinity for whipped cream.

A Christmas Wish

Christmas stirs an overwhelming desire in me to connect with the people I am estranged from.
Even the people who've hurt me, the ones who no longer wish to talk to me, I have a heart that wants to tell them I'm thinking of them.

And I hope they are happy.

And I hope when they think of me they still smile.
I hope they will show up at my work someday out of the blue just because.
Just to give me a hug.
And to say they missed me too.

I hope that their anger has ceased and turned into a calm understanding.
I hope they realize that while in some ways I am very much a woman, in others I am still merely a girl.

I hope when they look up and notice the stars they remember the ones they saw in my eyes.

I hope they are loved.
And as joyful as I am.

So many wonderful things have happened I wish I could share every detail with them.
And we'd pour out our stories over coffee and eggs and laugh at all our foolishness and our unfortunate misunderstandings.

And marvel over the resilience of love.

And while I embrace the truth that I am crazy and weird and emotional I also bask in the glow that I am beautiful.
And for a moment, they thought that too.

And I am thankful for that.
And I am thankful for them.

Wherever they are, I know they already understand all I've written.
And all we'll never say.

Merry Christmas, Darling

 

 

tough, lover

There's this moment in the movie Burlesque when the Talented overcome the Bitchy.
Nikki, pissed that Ali, Miss Christina Aguilera, is going to dance her part tries to sabotage her performance by messing with the sound.
Only instead of making her look like an idiot, Ali is finally able to show them all her mad vocal pipes and get her dream fulfilled of starring in a show.

Watching this movie tonight, I couldn't help but feel akin to the fabulous Christina.

See, I not only had bitches trying to tear me down and feel without, I also had a guy try and tear me apart.

Only as Fate would have it, in spite of all their vile efforts, I am soaring higher than I have all year.

The drama that the haters at work tried to stir up has been upstaged by the fact I made Pacesetter, which is basically a fancy way of saying I was one of the years top sellers and as such, am recognized with an award that increases my pay, along with other benefits and is considered to be one of the companies highest honors.
And as a new employee, and working for a lower end brand it is not only next to impossible to make the cut it is also undeniably impressive.
I've got heads turning my way from all directions and they're noticing me.
"Wow. You made it? I didn't know that."
I work hard.
And I am good at my job.
And regardless of the lies some have tried to spread my performance outshined their hate.

Stars shine even brighter when darkness envelopes them.

And then there's the guy.
The brooding, calculated, deceptive DB.
He tried to make me feel wretched for caring with the heart that I have, for wanting to be restored when he wanted to be cruel.
I was so terribly wretched he even banned me from being in his life at all.

And then two short weeks after he cut the chord, I am being pursued by three different men.

Guess the jokes on you, asshole.

I found this sweet guy who can't keep his hands off me and another whose taking me out for the first time next week.
And just yesterday a handsome customer asked for my phone number.
"I don't really have an aunt I need to buy perfume for. I just thought you were cute and wanted to talk to you."

And while DB must imagine I sit here mooning over him, I'm already enticing complete strangers who make up stories just for a chance to talk to me.
And I'm already longing for another kiss from Guy's new lips who know exactly what I desire them to do.

And somewhere between the depressed fever that began my birthday and the warm glow I'm basking in now before Christmas, I am greedily anticipating the fireworks around the corner leading into New Year's.

The hateful can hurl their cruelty my way and bruise my heart continually.
And always, with a stubborness greater than they know, I will overcome.
And find ways to shine brighter, to gain new fans and open the eyes of strangers passing by.

You, doubters and cynics, the unloving and judgemental, have got nothing on me.

I shine.
And there is no denying the truth of that.

Saturn Return

Six years ago, around this same time of year, I learned that sometimes the guy you're crazy about totally sucks in comparison to the guy whose about to sweep you off your feet.

I was totally into my boss.
Clearly there really is nothing else to think about while working at Starbucks. Which is why it's very good I don't work there anymore.
And for a few months we had a playful, casual thing going.
I say playful but really that's a polite way of saying the kid wasn't all that into me but we still had sleepovers and occasionally drank alcoholic beverages.
He'd even brush his teeth after he smoked before he'd kiss me.
A modern day Jimmy Stewart.

So surprise surprise when on opening night of the show I was in he called off our tryst.
"I told you I didn't want a girlfriend."
'I didn't want a boyfriend.'
"You lied!"
And thus another mediocre relationship ended and I was heartbroken just days before my birthday.

My life is repeating itself.

BUT......Because Timing is not always so very cruel, I not only started dating several other guys but Narccissus came and swept me off my feet.
He still to this day, despite our tragic ending, was the most romantic beau I ever had.
The Most Beautiful Woman in the World, he called me for years.
He'd introduce me to his friends and family and say, Isn't she beautiful? I am so proud to be with her.

Now THAT was how a real man made me feel.
And how many months did I put up with texts reading, "Door's Open" as my suitors only efforts?

But see when it's been so long since a true gentleman has pursued you, you forget.
You forget how different it feels.
So in the mean time, you settle.
Because some attention feels better than no attention.
And maybe you'll win him over.
I mean, if he gets naked with you, he must like you at least a little?
Right??

Cut to now and I'm 30 and I've heard this is the time in my life for my saturn return.
My life pieces are supposed to fall into place.
And things from my past are supposed to circle back.

So for months I was totally into DB.
We had a playful, casual thing going and he even tried to make me one of his platonic paperdolls.
Though I was miscast in the role since he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself.
I am so very enticing, after all.
Have you looked into my eyes?
"They're tractor beams for me to kiss you," DB once said.
How terribly romantic.

So surprise surprise when the day before my party he called off our tryst.
There are some very obviously strong emotions, and I just don't need drama between my friendships right now.
And thus another mediocre relationship ended and I was heartbroken just days before my birthday.

BUT......Because Timing is not always so very cruel, I started dating other guys.
And this new kid, Guy, seems to be on the verge of sweeping me off my feet.
Or at the very least, off my feet and onto his bed.
And really, what more does a woman need?

He looks at me like I'm a hot fudge sundae.
And I can't think of a more lovely Christmas present than that.

Oh, Hey DB?
Now that I'm getting horizontal with a new, tall lanky guy you think we could be friends again?
Clearly those "strong emotions" you claimed I felt were easily transferable.
I think you meant "strong hormones" but you never seemed to rock the stamina to keep up with me in that department.

Oh, that I were a man.....

It seems the "unhealthy" one wasn't me.
I got a promotion at work this week and was asked on a date by another new suitor.
Just nine short days after my tears spilled for the heartless rogue I'm giggling in the park with someone else's dreamy face inches from mine.

He was not so very special.
I. WAS.
And lucky for me, I carry myself everywhere I go.

How fortunate for the princes strong enough to kiss me.
Some Returns are definitely worth the wait.

come what may

When I'm not upset, I often struggle with what to write about.
I just have so much to say when I'm hurt.
But when I've healed it's all rainbows and unicorns.
Life is beautiful. Love. Embrace what comes your way.

B-O-R-I-N-G.
What am I, a Hallmark card?
Surely I have more to say than all that.

I sent Mr. Volcano a Christmas card.
Yes.
I am one strange little girl.
"I don't think I would ever send a Christmas card to an ex boyfriend, Resa. We are so different."

I guess when some conversations never get to be had Christmas feels like the time to send a little love.
And why not?
When someone's not in your life what more harm can one card bring?

But because life is so very curious the card was sent back to me.
It seems the time for forwarding his mail to his new address had expired so they placed the sticker with his forwarding address on it but sent it all the way back to me.
Surely it cost them more to mail it back the thousands of miles rather than forward it in the same town.
But life does not follow the laws of reason.

So I mused for a week over whether or not to resend the card.
Was I to interpret the cards return to me as a sign I shouldn't have sent it in the first place?
The card also came to me on my 30th birthday.
Timing, you perverse bitch, what makes you do the things you do?

And then one morning I woke up.
And I don't know what changed, but I had.
And without a word I grabbed another envelope and carefully penned the new address and marched across the street and dropped it in the mailbox.
I got that card for him.
Of course I should send it.

And because Timing is having her dirty fun with me she also delayed sending me the book I ordered for DB by an excessive amount of weeks.
So I was faced with another dilemma; whether or not to still mail it to him anyway.
In case you're just tuning in, DB would be the "Gentleman" who after months of close companionship decided he wanted nothing more to do with me days before my birthday.
Nothing says Happy Birthday like your crush telling you to Fuck Off.

And obviously the logical answer would be NO give the book to ANYONE ON THE PLANET but him.
And then I thought about Grace and Mercy and Love and about the kind of woman I aspire to be and I thought how much more of a gift it might mean if after everything he came home to find it.

When people you love give you presents doesn't it feel special?
And when people you've used and treated with cruelty give you presents doesn't it feel overwhelmingly special?
Or has anyone you've ever hated bothered to bless you with something?


.............................

Life surprises with choices and new possibilities every day.
I forget how much power I actually have in who I'm going to be.
No matter what they choose to never do.
My heart does not decrease in spite of their efforts to crush it.

And what a gift to remember that.
To remember all that I already have, all that I am,
in their absence.

Only, I'm the dude in this instance

Martini straight up, not with a twist

Dating is such a peculiar sort of creature.

I go out of my way to get extra dolled up to wear my best dress and make sure my makeup and my hair are just perfect to try and win favor with someone I don't even know.
And each prospect is so exciting.
It's something new and I don't know what's gonna happen.
And that's magical.

But it's also unlike what I'm used to.
And in spite of myself, in spite of how undesirable my former crush was, there was a moment in the middle of my date when I thought of him and I missed him.
Because I'd grown accustomed to his face and his mannerisms, his habits, the way he looked at me when I talked and the way he always smiled.
I didn't have that familiar vibe with this guy because it was the first two hours of my life ever spending with him.
And the first date I had with former crush was also quasi awkward and uncertain and I know that.

But stepping out of your comfort zone is hard.
And you don't know what the other person is thinking and you don't know if they even like you.
I mean he grabbed my ass in the elevator on the way out of the restaurant so I would think that means he at least thinks I'm kind of cute.

But I don't want to think about DoucheBag anymore.
I don't wanna wonder if he's missing me or if he thinks about me at all.
Or if he's already replaced me with Her.
I don't wanna care.
How do I not care??
Other people are so good at not caring.
They just turn it off.
And I've tried.
I've done everything I physically can.
I blocked him on my Facebook and I deleted all contact information and I didn't respond when he contacted me on my birthday.
The shock of actually hearing from him on my birthday.

But he's not actually blocked from my mind.

And this guy, this new, handsome, charming guy who held open my car door and helped me into my coat, he didn't even wish me a happy birthday.
And DB, in spite of himself, wished me a happy birthday.

It's like everyone will always be without in some way and you just have to decide which way you can accept the most with not having what you want.

I don't even think my date told me I looked beautiful.
And I really felt so. beautiful.
I was wearing my new Grace Kelly dress and birthday hat and everything.

I thought if DB had seen me in that dress with my hat and my hair he would have appreciated it.
But I'm sure I'm mistaken.
He didn't appreciate anything about me.
That was kind of the whole point.

I just hope it doesn't take me long to forget him.
Because chances are high that he's already forgotten me.

You have it bad for him, huh? Mother said.
Yeah. I do.
I really have horrible taste in men.

But here's to dating.
And my wretched taste surprising me with something great.

A Magical Day

I wake up and wish myself a happy birthday.

Then I stay snuggled up under the covers because I never want to get up when I awake.

I reach for my phone and see Mother texted me.
I smile, tickled over her new use of technology.
I open my favorite book and mull over verses in Ephesians.

Finally I crawl out of bed and tiptoe into the living room to pet the kitties.
 Good morning, Emily. It's my birthday, Henry.

I get on my computer and read my Facebook love.

My 8th grade best friend sent a picture of Ryan Gosling.

A very happy day indeed.

My old dancing friend sent an ecard.

Singing cards make me giggle.

I smell the roses I bought myself and then take a long, hot shower.

Hair pinned. Face painted. Red lace under my new pink party dress.

On to my old neighborhood where I grew up, my favorite muffin for the best bagel breakfast sandwich in town and the Starbucks I once frequented for the warm delicious holiday gingerbread white chocolate mocha.

Mmm. Heaven in a cup.

Over to my favorite park to share my breakfast with the ducks.

I breathe in the brisk winter air and recall the great loves who once sat with me on these benches.

Circling the pond I glance at the swings and indulge in how simple it is to laugh.

Leaving my old neighborhood, I head downtown, past my old college and the park blocks.

Down to the waterfront, waiting at a stop light, where the guy who once told me I could do so much better than Mr. Volcano walked right in front of my car.

Over the Ross Island bridge, past the exit I would have gone to go to my old roommates house.

Driving by the hot cake house and the grind, where great conversation was always had.

Arriving at the store I go for exquisite hats I find a mink collared coat, delicate velvet bows to adorn my head and a pink crystal brooch to match the birthday ring from my king and queen.

Back over the river to my other favorite shop and wonder of wonders I find a Grace Kelly dress sleek enough to fit over my double d's.
Adorned with velvet appliques, surely made for the hat I just bought.

The owner likes me so much he gives me the red slip I wanted as a free birthday gift.

Over to my favorite nail salon and I find a parking spot right in front of the building.

Birthday parking karma lasts all. day.

My manicurist tells me it's her husbands birthday too.
She makes my nails perfect enough to make Elle Woods proud and I indulge in the heated massage chair.

Over to Little Bird to meet my Sex and the City cast for a little french cuisine.
I admire the tables on the second floor that look out over the restaurant and we are ushered to a table there when we are seated.
My Samantha gives me a new little black lace.

We heart you, Victoria's Secret.

The handsome guy who looks like an extra from Newsies comes over to interject, Excuse me is it your birthday today?  It's my birthday too.  I hope it's simply wonderful.

The gorgeous stallion serving water makes my heart stop, leans towards me to ask, Do you have another cocktail on the way?

I muster up all self control to not say something inappropriate and just drool a little while I shake my head no.

I want HIM for my birthday.
Oh doo dah day.
He refills my water an incessant amount the rest of the evening.

Hope sweet hope and a soothing bubble bath.
My phone blinks with a text from my mystery date.
I postpone it till tomorrow.




Some days are so magical it's best to save a little for another day.

The Birthday Girl

A friend of mine asked me what my birthday words of wisdom were, what I'd learned over the past year, and I had to think awhile before I was sure what to say.
Sometimes there is so much to say the words stick together and coat my throat.
So I listened to what others had to say.
What they had to say about me.

Have you ever had several people sit around and tell you what they love most about you?

It's like being hugged by rainbows.

I love that I can call her and no matter what we talk about she is always honest.

I love that I'm always included.

I love that she always laughs. It is very validating.

I love that no matter how my day is going I can always count on Resa Sparkle to make things better.

I love that she just is who she is and she loves herself and is like, This is me! This is who I am!
I love that she's always been there, that she's been my friend for so long.
I love that she always holds me accountable and tells me what I need to hear even when I don't wanna hear it.

Love.
Overwhelming, comforting love.

I want to love.
I live to love.

And I am determined to pour my heart into every relationship I have.

No matter the fools who toss me aside.

So here is my birthday wisdom.

Tell your story.

Truthfully.

Seek out the people you need to have conversations with.
In spite of your trepidation.

Forget the things that got away.
Hope for the moon.

Always believe the best in people.
Even when they give you every reason not to.

Send Christmas cards.
Send any kind of card.

Wear red lipstick.

And smile sincerely.

Look at the stars more.
Remember you are beautiful.

Say a prayer for the ones who broke your heart.
And a prayer for the ones you know never could.

Believe you are worthy to receive superabundantly far over and above all that you could ever dare ask or hope for.

Buy yourself flowers.
And at least one amazing piece of jewelry.

Write.
Sing.
Laugh.
Persevere.

Love everyone.
Don't bother with worrying about how they feel.

There will always be someone to love you.
Your mom and dad, your brother, your best friend, the guy you have a really really big crush on.
And if someone somewhere along the way doesn't, it doesn't diminish your sparkle.
They merely miss the amazing beauty of being a part of it.

                        And what a magical sparkle it is.
                                      xoxoxoxoxo

The bitch is back

I distrust men who are weepers.
It's like, dishonest or something.
What, are you crying?
That's your gut reaction, your initial instinct?
There is something seriously distrubing about a man who cries more than me.
It makes my stomach turn.

He told me I threw off his mack because I was standing behind him, along with half of Portlandia, at a concert.
I felt like I couldn't be myself on my date with you there and that really bugged me.

Whaaaaa?
How exactly do I hinder his true self?
I mean I am merely a F-R-I-E-N-D, aren't I?
What, do I possess some mad distracting power in my curly hair that shrinks his manhood?

Doesn't the fact he was stoned and sharing his date with a stadium hinder his level of intimacy more than lil' ol' me?
Hot damn! I must be more important than I thought!
I made him n-e-r-v-o-u-s.
What's the matter, player?
Confused over which girl you wanna dry hump?

Can you imagine the intensity of their conversation in between songs had I not been there?
Nietzche and existentialism and the theory of relativity.
Or rather his affinity for the color orange and getting his ear sucked on.

Why does he care if I'm near anyway?
My Capital F-ing Friend presence should have had no effect on him.
Why not just try grabbing her tits before even kissing her and see if she's into it?
That move works SO well.

Geez, I hate lame excuses.
Be creative, for crying out loud!

He could have at least screamed, WHY ARE YOU STALKING ME!! and then stormed off with her dumbfounded expression lagging behind.

I didn't follow you, you self righteous cry baby.

God has a most perverse sense of humor and had you move so you were standing RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME after I'd been standing in the same damn place for two hours.

The real kicker?
There was a moment of clarity when I had no intention of tapping him on the shoulder.
But then I thought, nah, it's too fucking crazy not to say hi.

And you know?
I'm so damn delighted I did cuz I discovered what an oversized manchild he really is.

Man, it feels good to be writing again.

Oh, Warner.
Remember that time I came over wearing nothing but a little black lace and you whispered, I feel like I don't deserve this! and then we went into your room and I surprised you with that thing I do so well?
THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN THAT!!!


The only thing he was good at was making me moist and since he was too much of a pansy to follow through with that I have literally lost nothing.
He actually got to pushing my buttons intentionally one night then pulled away and announced, I am stopping. I am stopping to save our friendship.
Imagine the disgusted look on my face in the dark as I choked out the lie, How. terribly. sweet. of. you.

I know, I know, I was the little test subject.
Look at me, look at how much I can control myself!
Look at me exerting my will and being disciplined.
You know, since I used to have a problem lacking self control.

Well every girl does dream of being a transitory guinea pig.
At least he learned from the best.

You're welcome, you sanctimonious deceitful manipulative cretin.

Oh sweet Jesus, are you gonna cry again?
I hope the roommates are stocking kleenex.

Is that all there is?

The good thing about falling for so many douchebags is that you start to get the hang of the whole bouncing back quickly thing.
You cry and you feel so stupid and you wonder why god why??
And then you remember they weren't that good at bringing you to climax anyway and surely there's some other well endowed asshole out there who actually knows what to do with his hands.

I've so already sung this tune before.

I have to say though, this must be like, a new record for me being devasted and then angry and finally complacent all in a matter of three days.
Yay me!
We shall call this GROWTH.

See, I think I mistakenly fell into that oh so cliched category of You don't love him but merely love what you believe he could be.
I certainly loved the idea of his shirt off.
I think I never moved past the tongue down my throat part.
Is there any other part??

Only since I'm a man (in a Joan a la Mad Men's body) I always date men that are secretly women who'd rather "just talk" than get naked and shut up.

It is my inevitable fate of doom that I will forever be attracted to narcissistic melancholic men who are more interested in themselves that in my naked body.
Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha.
Good one, Big G!
Joke's on me!

Here's a Reese tip on dating: If a guy starts wooing you when he's still married, don't meet him for drinks.
I only had to learn that lesson twice before I finally picked up on the shortcomings.
Literally, in one instance.

I think what's so richly liberating in this particular instance is that he really made it so easy for me.
He is just a heartless jellyfish.
You know when you've really loved someone and they truly care for you, there are parts of them that are awful, sure, but then there are those lovable qualities, those moments where they were there for you and considerate and affectionate.
And wonderful.

But when I look back over the last few months at our interactions I can see the times I was really considerate and affectionate.....and waiting for him to return the favor.
No. Seriously.
Was there ever one instance between us where the interaction was not entirely self serving on his part?
None.

I'm just such a damn Pollyanna when it comes to the schmucks I dig I ignore all the tell tale signs.
You can say hello.
You can come lay with me.
You can buy me a drink.
What a privilege! I live to serve!

Wait......am I his fucking slave??

Gah! But it's all just too easy.
He's totally screwing up the story.
See, he's supposed to do one quasi decent thing to try and redeem himself so we all think MAYBE he's not the villain he appears to be.
And then the story is full of unpredictable ebbs and flows.
What will he do next? Will he get closer or withdraw further away?
Stay tuned next week!

But no, he just writes some half hearted reason for why his panties are in a twist and gives me the final send off that he can't be bothered to deal with me?
LEARN YOUR LINES, JACKASS!! WHAT KIND OF LEADING MAN ARE YOU?!
No wonder his favorite movie is Anchorman.
He IS Anchorman only less charming.
God I hate that stupid movie.

I don't like being a part of boring stories!
My pride is squirming.
At least Mr. Volcano made me mixed cds and followed me to a concert in Bend after he was an asshole.
At least he made things interesting.
But noooooo.
This guy's all, durrrr, I can't kiss you because I might feel something and I can't be your friend because that, huh, takes like, work and stuff.

L-A-M-E.

I'm already going to be done writing about it after this because there isn't even anything left worth talking about.
I'm so disappointed.

Thankfully, there is juicy scandalousness on the horizon.....
I have a date on my birthday....
And I don't even know if he's straight.

Now THAT'S a real fucking blog.

et al

"You know, Reese, you really shouldn't write about him. That's like, even more of a statement."
'Are you insane? That's like asking me to not have an amazing rack. Of COURSE I have to write about him.'
"Well alright, it was just a thought."
'Besides you think he's actually reading this? He'd have to CARE to read this. Why would he waste his time reading my words when I'm soooo unhealthy for him?'

Wait.
ARE you actually reading this??
No way.
Really?
Hiiiiiiiiii.
(I'm waving vigorously at you).
Ppssst. Hey. 
Hey-remember that time you cried when I read you the nice letter I wrote?
Or that other time you didn't wanna read what I wrote cuz you were afraid it'd make you cry?
Good times, eh?
But I know, I know, I'M too fucking emotional.

Good thing this heartless bitch is out of your life.
Fucking encouraging you and shit.
Psssh.
Such a whore.

But the thing is, I totally hadn't been writing at all lately.
I mean, I don't even know what happened, but it's like, I forgot myself or something.
I guess parasites can do that to you.

And the really incredible part?
Is that I actually made myself laugh out loud writing today.
That is like, WORTH the tears.

Life happens and people turn out to not be who they led us to believe and we hurt and we mourn and we feel like the biggest fucking losers Portlandia possesses.
And then something clicks, and we realize the planes are still arriving and departing and we're still the same people we were before we listened to the lies that made us doubt ourselves.
And we smile and we laugh and we're stronger for making it through the night.
Our fever broke, along with our hearts, but there is always someone new making our phones blink.

And the new faces stir hope that others past had tried to destroy.
And once again I am convinced, I am stubbornly determined, that I will never go wrong believing the best in people.
No matter how many times they prove me wrong.
I'll still always believe.
I'll always believe in them.
Even when I'll never hear from them again.

But that's just me.
The person too daring to be worth any effort.

See, I always thought we'd met to make each others lives better.
That's just how it was between us.

But some things are transient.
Like random thoughts in a blog.
Seen. Consumed. Forgotten.

just another laid back fellow

This guy who thought he wanted to get to know me said to me once, "You are hilarious. I need to find you a man."
And I responded with, "I know right?! Few can handle this. Just. So. You. Know."
He, in turn, "I am sure that It. Can. Be. Handled."

Cut to him months later cutting me out of his life because I'm "too much drama."
As if anyone with any fraction of a brain can't figure that out the second  they hear me speak.
I AM DRAMA!!
And he was fully aware of this fact, as they all are.

Men just think they want what intrigues them without realizing getting too close to such fascination will challenge them and scare them and thus overwhelm them.
Nah, they don't want someone i-n-t-e-r-e-s-t-i-n-g they want someone they can control.
Someone who says "yes massuh" and "no massuh" when they want a warm body in their bed and then subsequently don't want them actually making a sound.
Ohmygoodness! Was I breathing too loudly? Shame on me for being so noisy, I know you already came and now that's my cue to shut the fuck up.

Honestly, the nerve of some women.
Selfish bitches.

But alas, I am not a mere beige puppet, molded at the hands of some man.
I have a great big mouth of my own and a savvy way with words.
And anyone unable to handle The Resa Prose needs to be purged from my friends list.
No sexy photos or witty status updates for you, sir! HaHA!

But what was I supposed to say?
I'm sorry for having needs?
I'm sorry for accidentally stumbling upon your scrawny ass in a crowd of hundreds?
I'm sorry for imagining there is some unwritten code of conduct that prevents persons laying claim under the "Friend" label --when they're through laying under The Resa--that warrants I am treated with at least a minimal fragment of decency and respect?

If I am not worth your consistency can I at least be worth your kindness?
All I want is what I have coming to me.
All I want is my fair share.

The uproariously laughable insanely comical laughing my curvacious ass out loud fact of this debacle?

It would take VERY LITTLE to make me VERY HAPPY.

They act as though I asked for their penis to be extracted and dipped in gold for my insatiable needs to be met.
But all I want is a gesture!
Not THAT gesture, you arrogant fucktard.
Just some small attempt of affection, some teensy tiny ripple of effort to show that why yes, I do, biggest heart of anyone that they know, most unique and beautiful personality that I embody MATTER TO THEM!!!

Jesus.
It's fucking exhausting.
It's exhausting screaming before deaf ears.

Earth to Reese!!
They're not listening.
They're only interested in getting their own rocks off.

God, this would have been so much easier if we'd just remained fuck buddies.
THAT I never get complaints about.
He certainly enjoyed my big mouth in that arena.

But you know what?
I AM one clever woman.
And he is gonna miss my fantabulous self the second it all hits him.

Because I'm fucking brilliant.

And he threw it all away.

Kudos, love, my hats off to you.
My clothes, on the other hand, ain't ever gonna be on your bedroom floor again.

a smack in the face

I am worse than a fool
for a fool knows not of his follies.
I, however, am well aware.
And take each misguided leap of faith anyway.

Silly little girl.
You don't matter to him.

Everyone told me what would happen.
E.v.e.r.y.o.n.e.
It must be quite a boring existence knowing that your every move has already been calculated and predicted with perfect accuracy.
And by complete strangers.

He will never come through.
He will never be there for you.
You will be disappointed if you expect anything from him.

No one saw the good that I saw.
N.O. O.N.E.
But I was determined to believe with all severity of hope that the glimmers of light I saw were an indication of the overwhelming warmth just below the surface.

See the thing I never realized?
The light I saw was merely a reflection of my own eyes.
There never was any light sitting before me.
Only emptiness.
Cold. Methodical. Self serving indifference.

People fear hate but I much prefer it.
I'll take vapid disdain over lukewarm indifference any day.
At least if they hate me they FEEL something towards me.
And all I ever want is the truth.

Why wasn't I cast aside months ago?
Just keep me around to exploit my affections?

Look at the crazy red head now!
She thinks he cares!
Mwahahahahaha!
Will you look at that?
She actually sees herself mattering to him!
Why can't she see what's so obviously before her?

Hey. Sugartits.
He doesn't care.
You are not wanted.
Not in any.way.

Wake up and find someone new to believe the best in.
Because once again-
SMACK-
you were dead wrong.

Buh byyyeee.

that's all that matters

and he may think I'm like every girl
but I know the difference
I know the songs I'm waiting to sing
and that's all that matters
that's all that matters to me

people know when they've let you down
they don't need my rage to cut them down
they have their broken mirrors
and pairs of eyes
such mournful, regretful eyes


and I will move on
I will knock down their doll houses
and they will miss the stars
I poured so carefully
no longer twinkling in their eyes
such hope amidst dark shadows
each honeyed word
soothing the storm swirling in their minds

and he may think I'm like every girl
but I know the difference
I know the songs I'm waiting to sing
and that's all that matters
that's all that matters to me

I went searching and found fury flames
and I realized I was the only one
the only one who only wanted to love

no matter what they do
I never let me down
no matter each silent lie
I'll sing my song loud

and he may think I'm like every girl
but I know the difference
I know the songs I'm waiting to sing
and that's all that matters
that's all that matters to me

and everyone expects nothing
so does it really hurt anything if I hope for the moon
and hope for more than this
for more than now
for someone who will make things right

because I'm not like every girl
I'm unlike anyone he knows
and that's all that matters
that's all that matters to him

turning tides

I'm fairly certain the most painful thing someone I care about could ever do to me
would be to ignore me when I need them most
And to ignore me when they know they've hurt me
is possibly worse than the offense itself

I hate being ignored
I just want to communicate
I want to be restored
I don't understand how people can be indifferent
how they can not care

All I do is care

I care how they're feeling
and what they're thinking
I care
and instead of reaching out
they close me out

It's fitting really

I mean, life follows patterns, does it not?
And I am Anna Karenina to every lover
Beloved before I am despised
Only they try and push me in front of the train before I've time to jump

It always surprises me
but it shouldn't
each and every character in my story told me how it would be
how the story would play out
and I, ever always, failed to listen
Because I believe
I believe in people
in their good hearts and the hopeful glances and the moments where faith is born

And that is why I sit here, a feverish, dizzy heap,
A-L-O-N-E
with my misguided hopes and delusions of reconciliation keeping me company
while my phone remains silent

Silence
I heard each unspoken word shrill and clear
I. am. not. worthy.
but to some
          some time
                 I will be

And I'll remain a hopeful silly girl until then
in spite of each and every them

another blank page

It's amazing to me how something I can't even see possesses the power to drain all energy from my body.
I can't even eat.
And I never lose my appetite.
Ever.
I didn't eat anything for two days and then when I tried swallowing some vegetable broth it felt like lead was being dropped into my stomach.

I must be really sick.

And of course being sad and sick is just this side of being dead.
I have hope I will get well and my heart will heal as it has so many times before.

But for now, in this moment, I am so very wretched.
I'd sleep for days if my body allowed it.
Just to avoid being present for this chapter.

I can't seem to do anything mildly.
I'm either fine or I'm bombarded with illness.
Men either crave me in their beds or they ignore me entirely.
There is no half way, no compromise, no middle ground.
I am one wave of extreme.
And I'd give anything to feel something other than what I feel now.

Is there power purely in wishing?
Because right now, I wish so badly for the moon.

I forgot about the blue heron

People always talk about good years.
About the good times and the good memories.
And they try and forget about the bad.
Or at least, they won't tell you about them.
They'll simply think about them when they're alone.
Most people like to do their crying in private.

My parents and I were talking about Christmas this year.
About the things we wanted to do, the things we loved.
I asked if my brother and I would still get stockings because that's my favorite.
And my mom said yes and that we did them last year.
And my dad said, no, we didn't.
And I agreed with mom and argued that we had.
But dad, remembering accurately, said no, that was another year.
Last year we didn't.
Last year was different.

I'd forgotten.
I guess I'd forgotten some other things too.
I'd forgotten that tomorrow marks a year.
A year since I've heard from the kid who still manages to haunt my memories.
And at the most inopportune times.
I wonder if I still ever creep into his mind.
Like some canadian penny unwanted amidst all his change.

Last year was a bad year.
A wretched, frightful, god awful year.
And I survived.

And now this year is nearly over and in some small way, in my own tiny little world, I feel like I've caught the moon.
I walked through those floods and still managed to see the planes flying overhead, guiding me forward.
And I still hold my breath when I glance up and see one unexpectedly.
Little things catch me off guard.

I met someone.
He's not mine in anyway.
Not my lover or my soul mate or my beau.
He just is someone who took the time to see me.
And listen.
And stay after my story was over.

And I feel like a girl again.
I feel like I remembered the person I was before last year tried to make me disappear.

And I love how I feel.

I love that I no longer have a desire to look back to a past that did nothing to nurture my future.
And I hope it stays there.
I hope my past lets my new memories replace the old.

Because I deserve that.

We all do.

And it's impossible to see the twinkle lights sparkling before you when your mind is somewhere else.
You simply miss it.
And this year, this time,
this is a good one.

At least I sure hope so.

It can't be bad if my heart is smiling with such hope.
Can it?

Crumbles

I told this kid once that I was a tough cookie.
And he laughed.
I haven't seen it, he said, mocking me.
And I felt like I was being challenged.
And I almost didn't believe him because I've been told that a lot; that I'm strong, that I'm a tough cookie, that I can handle a lot.

But I guess people that weren't there to see me handle all that other stuff don't know the difference.

It was interesting because it totally made me feel like I needed to prove myself.
Which is funny because I think most of the time when people question me I just think, whatever, believe what you want to believe.

In a lot of my relationships I'm the one that's strong.
I'm the one that's ok, that's happy, that's believing the best and encouraging the people around me.
And that's my role and I love it.

I mean I've never been one of those people that's battled depression or anxiety and felt bombarded by life.
I might have a bad day here and there but overall I'm a pretty happy person.
But lately some things have happened that have kind of knocked me down and I am having a hard time staying strong.
I am having a hard time believing the best and being ok and being happy.

And it's peculiar because I feel like so many people in my life are so often that way and they come to me when they need to remember the truth of all that's within them and the good things in their life and then when I'm the one falling to pieces people look at me like I'm crazy and like, what's wrong with you?

And it's a pretty disconcerting feeling.
It makes me feel really alone.
And I hate being alone.
And all I want is to have someone to talk to and have someone keep me company so that I don't have to feel so crazy.



I went to church late and I was late to the noon service.
How much of a slacker can I be.
And maybe it's stupid but I felt guilty about being so late.
As I began to sit down I realized there was this kid behind me who was also late and also looking for a seat so I moved down one and he sat next to me.
He looked young and I mean, I know I look young and people always think I'm younger than I am but I would have guessed that he was in his early twenties.

I've been feeling weighed down by things and the service was really moving.
At the end of the sermon we broke up into small groups to pray and we were to pray for an enemy of ours, for somebody who had done us wrong.
And I didn't know what to say and I didn't really feel like I had the strength to lead or to even speak.
There was this adult couple with us and this kid.
And it was this kid, this guy next to me that led prayer.
When we were finished and they were playing worship songs I felt so moved by everything, I started crying. I felt like I had turned into my mom.
I was crying during a song in church.
I cried these big fat tears and my mascara and my eyeliner were running down my face.
It got so bad I couldn't see and I had to leave.
That kid sitting next to me was on the end and he stepped out of the way so I could exit and as I walked past him he lightly, lovingly patted me on the shoulder, as if to say, it's ok.

And I thought how desperately I wanted to have a man like that in my life, someone who could lead when I didn't feel strong enough to speak and someone who would reassure me when I felt overwhelmed about things being ok.
And he just seemed like this really young kid, you know?
But he was so strong.
And that was so nice.
It was so nice being around somebody that was strong.
For once.
And to feel like it was ok that I wasn't, in that moment.
That it was ok that I was sad.



I think I kind of fell in love with that kid.

hauntings

You were in my head last night.
I don't know what you were doing there.
It had been a really long time.
And I really thought it'd be someone else I'd be thinking about.
But it was you.
You invading my thoughts, your face appearing in my mind when the lyrics were sung.

My mind had to be playing tricks on me

Why else would you be there?
What purpose could you possibly serve?
And are you ever going to leave me alone?
Ever?

I've loved others, you know.
I've wanted other men and other dreams and other kisses that resulted in shooting stars.

And yet these moments exist, these dark little corners of my mind where light suddenly shines, and you are always there.
And my heart twists with this sharp pain and causes water to spill from the corners of my eyes.
And I wonder about you.
How you are, if you're ok, if you're happy.
If you'll ever write me.

At the end of the song the lights were flashing around the ballroom and they stopped on the disco ball overhead.
And it looked like a million stars were everywhere.
I realized how long its been since I looked at the stars.
And I thought wherever you are, you're watching them.
Because that's how you are.
At least, that's how I remember you to be...

I'm certain I'll never know the difference.

I'm leaving a star

I used to work with this theatre director who would never consider me for any role other than chorus.
No matter how much I sang my heart out in my auditions he would still only ever cast me as little Susie Q, chorus girl number three.
It was maddening to say the least.
Because it's not like I didn't have the vocal chops to outsing any of the other leading ladies.
He just never let me read for those parts.
He never saw me as his leading lady.
He saw me as his reliable chorus girl, shining brightly in the background.

It took me a long time to realize that I didn't need to try and win over that director.
I needed to find a new director.
Because I did work with some directors who only saw me as their leading ladies, directors who precast me in leading roles before they even held their general auditions.
Because they simply wanted me that badly.

But I can't expect every director to see all that is within me.
I can't expect most people to either.

I worked my curvacious behind off today.
I felt like I was channeling my old school barista self who only cared about brightening each customers day.
I even managed to soothe a disgruntled customer who nearly walked out of the store.
But she let me do her makeup and before she left she gave me a hug.
That's pretty incredible to see somebody's intense rage and loving gratitude all within the same hour.

But with each pair of appreciative eyes there are always more staring me down with scowls on their faces.
And their accusations accosted my ears and I countered their words with sincere truth.
And they looked back at me with cold, blank stares.
And I felt my shoulders grow heavy with that familiar weight of disdain and I could no longer stand up straight.

My seventh grade math teacher told me once I was bad news.
I don't remember what I must have done to set her off but I do remember getting after school detention and some guy asking me, "What are YOU doing here?"
Goody goodies didn't usually frequent detention.
"I don't know," I had answered. "My teacher thinks I'm a bad egg."

And that was that.
From then on out, that teacher believed she had me all figured out and she never saw me as anything but a poor, unruly student.
I was merely a chorus girl to her, fading in the background, being shoved to the last back row of chairs.

But thankfully, I had lots of other teachers.
Teachers who nurtured me and valued me and saw all the potential stirring inside me.
And they lifted me up and they allowed me to soar.
They appreciated my sass and my opinions and my propensity for always going left or right.
I left an impression.
And that was actually a good thing.

And I remembered tonight how important it was to not drink from the well.
And I marvelled over the truth that maybe my casting director was elsewhere.

Maybe my time as a chorus girl was merely preparation.
Maybe I had other stages to conqueor.
And maybe I'd actually be satisfied when my current role was recast.

my looking glass

I have a love affair with a store in Portland.
It's a little boutique next to a bar that has the most eclectic appetizers Clinton street has to offer.
And whenever I walk in, the store is filled with so many carefully displayed items I'm almost afraid to reach out and pick anything up for fear of destroying the picture they've created.
Everything is vintage.
Everything is equisite.
Everything is totally Resafied.

It must have been an especially magical day because when I walked into the store they were having a sale.
In all the years I've shopped there, I've never once been there when they had a sale.
Magic.
I was the only one in the store so the lady working there visited with me while I shopped.
She complimented my hat.
And pointed out different items she thought I might like.
It was like shopping with a best friend only I'd never met this woman before in my life.

I told her I was looking for a new hat to wear to my birthday party.
And when I found several that I was trying to decide between she gave me a reduced price so I could get all of them.
I found a beautiful, black fur coat from the 50's that was a fourth as expensive as every other fur coat in the store.
Why is this on sale? I asked. There's nothing wrong with it.
She just laughed and shook her head.
I don't know. I wasn't here when the items were selected for reduction. I don't think a whole lot of thought went into which items were on sale. It probably shouldn't be.

I slipped my hands into the pockets and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
My hand pulled out a coin that had been left in the pocket.
My lucky penny.

She wrapped up my purchases in pink tissue paper and asked me where I worked.
I work in cosmetics, I said.
Awe, that explains it. Your makeup is flawless. I used to want to do that, you know. Before I got into all this, now I'm obsessed.
Yeah, I can see why. I used to want to have my own vintage shop. But then I thought I wouldn't want to sell anything because I'd want to keep it all.

I looked up at a shelf that was higher than the rest in the store.
What's that? Is that a hat?
She pulled down a small magenta hat with feathers and netting.
It was unlike anything I'd ever seen.
Yeah, it's falling apart though. But it's still beautiful. It'd be worth a lot if it wasn't so worn.
I held the hat in my hands, turning it over.
I placed it on my unkempt curls and smiled at my reflection.
It was perfect.
I'd found my hat. 
My thirty, flirty and thriving hat.

I just stood there, smiling, remembering how great it felt to look at myself and see all my eyes reflected.
I'd forgotten.
I'd forgotten how simple it was to ignore the stares others eyes projected.
And simply open my own eyes long enough to see what I already knew was there.
And how beautiful, how beautiful I remained, even when I was falling apart.

Tomorrowland

My ex said goodbye to me again.
I can't even tell you how many times he's said goodbye because it's kind of ridiculous.
I don't even like calling him my ex because it was so much more than that.
It was a relationship that wasn't like anything I've had before so it seems weird to just put an X on it,
like it's the same as everything else in my past.

He said that I was good, that I didn't need him anymore.
And it's funny because depending on who you are, depending on who might say that, you might think that it was mean.
But it was the opposite.
It was incredibly loving and what I needed.

Sometimes I don't know what I need.

But even though I knew that it was a good thing it's still hard.
Because I don't know that I'm ready to not need him anymore.
Then who would I need?
Or would I need anybody?
And is that ok?
Is that a bad thing?

It's an overwhelming thing.

I love change.
I love things that are new and different, meeting new people trying new things.
But I also always wanna have some people, some things that I can count on, that I can rely on.
Like, them being there and how they'll feel about me.
People are so fickle and they're always changing their minds.
They're always running with what their emotions tell them to do.
And it's sometimes hard to count on much of anything.

The reason ending relationships is hard is because that person saw something in us that we wanted to believe.
Or that we needed to believe.
And letting go of that person is like letting go of that idea, that that person no longer believes what they once did.
And so we fear that it must not be true.
Because if they no longer believe it then maybe it was never real in the first place.
And we mourn the loss of the person but we also mourn the loss of the idea.
We fear letting go of that person, even if it's somebody we already lost, because it's like admitting that they were right and that it's not true.
It's not real.

So we revel in our mourning.
We delight in our sadness because while we're thinking about them it still exists.
The idea can still be real in our memories.

But what we don't realize is that we have to let go of them.
We have to let go of their perceptions of us, their ideas because there are so many people waiting to share what they see and what they believe.
And we can't embrace these new ideas until we really let go of the past and say goodbye.
And admit that we don't need them anymore and that that's ok.

And the hope is that sometime we'll realize that it doesn't matter what other people see or believe because we'll know.
We'll know the truth.
And we'll finally believe it and see all that is within us and that'll be enough.

And everything else and everyone else can be these wonderful little extras, these surprising delights, that make our smiles that already exist on our faces even brighter.
Because they see what we see.
And those moments are what it's all about.
They are why we sparkle the world.

I would like you to know I was right. You're welcome.

I have an overwhelming capacity to believe the best in people.
I've been told it's one of my worst qualities.
Simply because some assholes should warrant enough common sense to leave well enough alone.
But this asshole wants to believe they'll come around.
I'm a schmuck that way.

But the truth is, I think my perception of someone does have a great influence on how they'll behave towards me.
Like those times when someone's done something shitty.
Say, they said something untrue.
Now I could act awkward and indifferent around them, I could no longer talk to them the way I used to, or I could continue being my bubbly, happy self in spite of the colors they have revealed.
If I'm weird towards someone they in turn will be weird towards me.
And if I'm loving to someone....
it is my hope they'll return such sentiments.

Oh sure, dicks will be dicks.
And maybe my pearls will continue to be mistakenly cast aside.
But maybe they'll open up and make time for me when I desperately need them to.
Maybe they'll show support instead of hostility.
Maybe the enemies I loved will need me someday.
Anything is a possibility.

But to my delight and awe filled wonder, I watched someone's presumed indifference fall away.
And I'd like to believe I played a small role in that.
I believed in all they failed to see.
And how lovely to watch as they finally see it too, see all that is before them,
even see me.

Hello again and possibly even goodbye

I deactivated my Facebook account for a week.
Some very unpleasant drama went down and all I wanted to do was hide from the world.
It was like some theme on a variation of last year and while you'd think an attention whore like myself would be thrilled to be watched by so many judging eyes I wanted to disappear completely.
Some perceptions are just too exhausting to try and deflect.

The thing I found amusing was I didn't miss it.
In fact I think it helped not having it.
Suddenly my days were focused on who I saw and talked to and not obsessing over what everyone was doing without me.
Curious, that social networking nonsense.

I reactivated my account because I realized I can't live my life afraid of what everyone's gonna think.
I could turn myself into a docile, stepford robot and still somehow manage to ruffle someone's petticoats.
It's a gift.
Some of us are so very blessed.

And while I'm not so foolish as to claim I. Don't. Care.
I can no longer care to the point I'm afraid to be anything other than I am.
I am a bold person.
I will most assuredly leave an impression.
And if those in the audience are so clouded with misconceptions to see who dances before them?
Well, then I bid them adieu.
Each and every one.

I cannot feign.
I simply am.
And goodbyes are far less painful than lies.
Ciao.

Batman's my boyfriend

Do you know what's so great about Batman?
How he can simultaneously be unpredictable and reliable at the same time.
You never know what he might do or when he'll do it, but you know when you really need him, he'll always be there.
I love that about Batman.

He is my boyfriend, after all.
Well.....
as much as anyone can be Batman's girlfriend.
He has so many other people to protect, you know.

Life has turned upside down once again and it's hard to see anything clearly.
It seems I fail as a woman in more ways than one.
And it's hard looking anyone in the eye when apparently they are the gateway to my villianous ways.

But no matter how many people yell I am bad as I am there is a small flicker of fire within me that fights to believe they are all wrong.
ALL. Of. Them.

And whenever I need a dose of faith, Batman appears.
He exists to remind me I am not bad as I am.
But that I am lovely.

I need men like that in my life.

Mother says I keep having this effect on men, this overwhelming need to have me, powerless to resist my irresistibility.
And yet they continue to run away with their hands in the air as though I were trying to place a hex on them.
And I stand there blinking my eyes in the distance.
I merely wanted to love you.

How vile of me.

But for a moment, a much needed moment, I was reminded my heart does show through my eyes.
And I should keep my head up.
And simply walk forward.

I have nowhere else to go.
I have no reason to stay.

Play Me

when I go-Slow Club
first day of my life-Bright Eyes
midnight coward-Stars
rocks and daggers-Noah and the Whale
high and dry-Radiohead
if i wrote you-Dar Williams
i was made for you-She&Him
love and some verses-Iron&Wine
slow show-The National
i will follow you into the dark-Death Cab for Cutie
sol solis-Moving Mountains
i go to the barn because-Band of Horses
wait-Alexi Murdoch
thistle and weeds-Mumford&Sons

A Bad Situation

You are bad for me.

The words kept echoing in my head for days.
I couldn't believe they had really been spoken.
And by someone I really cared for.
Surely, there had been a mistake.
He must have thought he was talking to a different person.
Another Resa.
Someone who didn't care about anyone but herself.

It's frightening how people can really perceive you.

I not only thought this person liked me, I thought they got me.
You know, one of those people who knows what you're thinking before you say it, who guesses you're still in bed and craving kisses rather than being productive on your day off.
That kind of understanding.

But instead my desire for friendship had created a bad situation.
I was becoming a bad situation in every area of my life.

And here I thought we were supposed to just be ourselves.
Apparently not when yourself is so extreme.
Because I'm too much and need to be toned down.
Take it down a notch, the only acting note I got from my first film class.

I'm too much.
Too much for men.
Too much for my coworkers.
Too too much.

But I don't know how to flip the off switch.
How does one refrain from being who they are?
And which version of myself should I be?
Which parts of me are tolerable enough to remain?
My loud laugh?
My propensity to tell stories?
My insatiable appetite?
My desire to communicate love?

Somebody please tell me so I can adjust accordingly.

Contrary to popular belief I do actually aim to please.
How very foolish of me.

And then maybe when I become fully the little stepford robot they've created me to be they'll stop trying to drive me away because I'm too extreme and let me stay put for awhile.

Or maybe they'd be bored with me and forget I even exist.

I don't know which is worse.
I think I'd rather be hated than forgotten.
At least I'd make an impression.
At least I could have that.

no responsibility

I am a girl
I act hostile
I am selfish and tempramental
I throw things when I'm not in the room
I am untrustworthy
I am unprofessional
I scream at you when my lips are still shut
I am too flirty
I am a persistent vixen
I lure in new prey when I blink
I am a bad situation
I am always on the left or right
I claw at your eyes and spit on your tongue
I am everything you say I am
I am all you believe me to be
I am not real
I am not me

My new friend, Tim

I started going to a church I really like.
It has been years since I did that.
And two of my closest friends go to the same church.
I forgot how wonderful that is to fellowship together.

This particular church is really big, a lot like the one I grew up in.
And there are a lot of young people who go there.
There's unlimited free coffee with french vanilla creamer and muffins and orange juice after the service.
It's like the Disneyland of churches.

And even though I've only been going for a month I think it'd be really cool to meet a guy there.
Not like, The One, just a guy, any old guy.
Someone who doesn't run away when he learns how wonderful I am.
You know, someone like that.

So on this particular Sunday me and my friend, Giselle, took our sleepy rears to the 8am service and silently sipped on coffee while trying to wake up.
A few minutes passed and a gentleman came and sat down next to us.
Now, he was no Cary Grant, but he could definitely pass for Cary Grant's cousin.
Twice removed, but whatever.

We exchanged names and pleasantries during the meet and greet and as the service ended he smiled at me and said, It was really nice to meet you, Teresa.
Then he turned to Giselle and said, I'm sorry, what was your name again?
Nothing makes you feel quite so pretty so early in the morning as a man who remembers your name.
Fortunately Giselle was already spoken for so it was no skin off her nose.

We sat together, Giselle and I, munching away on treats and I glanced around the room.
There, talking with two other gentlemen was my new friend, Tim.
He saw me and smiled.

I met a boy, I thought. I met a boy at church.

All things really are possible.
And it's nice sometimes to drag myself out of bed and remember that.

...The Spotless Mind...

I had my own Eternal Sunshine moment on Halloween.
Which I've decided is either really freaky or really rad.

I was meeting some friends at a bar I've never been to and I arrived first.
I sat at the bar next to a Storm Trooper and took in the room.
There was a live band playing and the place was pretty packed.
There were a lot of attractive men there.
I mean, a LOT.
Gotta love Halloween.

There were a couple of guys who I was immediately drawn to and to my surprise they were nearly twins.
Tall, lanky bearded guys who smiled a lot.
It seems my ex has cursed me with a type.
Damn PC.

It was nice being out, the energy of new people, the anticipation of what the night might bring.
I felt really beautiful that night and it seemed reflected in each gentlemen's eyes.
When Maggie got to the bar she asked me to go to the powder room with her which was on the opposite side of the bar.
We passed one of the guys I'd been scamming on earlier and I noticed from behind how much hotter he was up close.
Men aren't the only ones who appreciate a nice ass.

The ladies room had a long line so Maggie and I piled into the mens washroom and left the gentleman waiting his turn giggling as we stumbled out together.
Still laughing we passed the same group of people again and the tall drink of water who had grabbed my attention was now sitting at the table facing us.
I glanced his way and continued walking.
Then stopped.
I looked at him again.
No, I thought. It couldn't be. Could it?

Maggie, I think that guy is Richie.
What? she asked. Really?
Yeah. Unless I'm delusional.

I walked over to the stranger and tapped him on the shoulder.
He turned around and a smile lit his face when he saw me.
He gave me a hug and my mind reeled over the fact that I'd been drawn to a guy I'd already dated.

Are we really so predictable and tedious as to repeat our same actions?
Over and over and over again?

Not only was my attraction amusing, the fact I was running into him at all was mildly alarming.
I'd asked a dozen friends last minute what they were up to that evening and the only one going out was my friend, Maggie.
And the place she was headed to happened to be the place Richie was, a guy I hadn't seen in at least a month.

Life does crazy things sometimes.

I ended up meeting another attractive stranger I enjoyed talking to that night.
And I don't know if I'll ever see him again.
That's the tragic beauty of nights, I guess.

I talked to a lot of people I didn't know and was so buzzed and distracted by everything I lacked the social graces to simply say It was nice meeting you and instead would finish a sentence and then abruptly walk away without saying anything.  It was like my body physicalized the expression, Ooh look! Something shiny!
I didn't even say goodbye to the new stranger I'd delighted in.
And I liked him.

But I did say goodbye to Richie.
And maybe that moment, that night, was simply existing for that.
Sometimes I think things are far less complicated than we realize.
And the few times we pause and take a second glance are usually the times we finally see what all is there.
And sometimes, what all isn't.