These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

Since my last post was not exactly cheery, I wanted to look on the brighter side of things with this one.  I decided to go with 31 things, since that is how old I am.  So here's the list (not including family and friends, who would all be at the top of course), in no particular order.

My Favorite Things

1. When my dog curls up into a canine nugget.
2. Sleeping in, especially when tucked under a warm blanket when it's raining.
3. Fresh-baked ____________.
4. When a scab is finally ready to be picked off without leaving a mark (gross, I know.)
5.  An empty movie theater.
6. Songs from older Disney musicals (I don't know the new stuff as well.)
7. Getting real cards in the real mail.
8. Bride day Friday, then and now.
9. A good cocktail when you really needed one.
10. The first Mister Softee cone of the summer.
11. Getting met at the airport by a friend or relative.
12. A beach vacation.
13. A vacation to a place I've never been.
14. A vacation to a place I know and love.
15. Singing along with the radio in the car, especially on a sunny day (while driving somewhere; I don't just sit in my parked car to do karaoke.)
16. A hot chocolate, chai latte, or tea when the weather is gross.
17. Winning (board games, pub trivia, sweepstakes, what have you.)
18. The "AHA" moment when a kid finally gets what I've been trying to teach him.
19. Those few weeks in the city where you're able to go outside for hours wearing flip-flops and no jacket, and not sweat through your outfit.
20. Opening the door to the apartment when I get home from work and don't have to be anywhere else.
21. The smell of lilacs in the spring.
22. Finding out I ran faster than I thought I was going.
23. Finishing a tough crossword or KenKen puzzle.
24. Finding a 10+ letter word in Boggle.
25. Getting compliments on the shirt/shoes/dress I wasn't sure about but bought anyway.
26. Reconnecting with an old friend and feeling like you picked up where you left off.
27. Having an hour-long conversation that feels like five minutes because you were just that engrossed.
28. The bittersweet feeling of those first few minutes after having finished a really good book.
29. Getting a hug at just the right time.
30. Having nothing to grade.
31. Coming home to a clean apartment after having been away for awhile.

Motivation

Warning: The following is an exercise in navel-gazing, and is more a letter to myself than anything, which means it probably will not be that interesting to any of you.  Don't feel that if you start reading it, that you have to finish reading it.  And if you do finish reading it, if you feel like you'd like to punch me in the face a bit, then you're in good company.

Sometimes I can just feel the waves of disdain coming off my dog.  He takes a look at me, turns his head away, then wanders into the bedroom as if he can't believe I'm content to just sit in that chair and watch TV/take quizzes on buzzfeed/play Bubble Blaster on my kindle.  Now, if it's been a long day at work, then I don't feel so bad about it.  Or if it's raining.  But then there are other times, when for no good reason, that's all I want to do.  And then I do start to feel bad about not doing more with my time.  And then the guilt sets in.

Guilt seems to be one of the main motivators in my life, at least recently.  I take on responsibilities that I'm not really interested in, or have stopped being interested in, because I feel guilty.  I know I do actually have the time and brain-power to do these things, and so I convince myself that I will do them and should do them because it's the right thing to do.  And if I feel like no one else wants to do them either, then forget about it, I'm done for.  The down side to this is that it doesn't make me very happy.  In fact, it makes me beat myself up for not being a responsible person and better fulfilling these responsibilities that I talked myself into.  I've taken on such responsibilities both at work and in my personal life.  The work ones I'm much better about taking care of (since the school wouldn't run very well if I didn't), it just turns out that I don't enjoy them that much.  The role I've taken on in my personal life is a little more complicated, and is the one that truly bothers me.  I'm a leader in a volunteer organization, but it turns out, that with being in charge of roomfuls of teenagers every day and having to make all the decisions, in my extracurricular life I'd really rather be someone who just shows up and helps, not the one who has to set up and organize everything.  But how do you tell a volunteer group that you want to quit?  Doesn't that by default make you a little bit awful?  This is what I struggle with.

I never thought I was a person who has trouble saying no.  My students certainly hear it all the time ;o).  But I think I need to be better about realizing when I'm doing something purely out of obligation, and when I'm doing it because I actually want to.  I've lost touch with that feeling lately.  I had a bit of a pity party for myself this week, in part because my vacation plans were derailed and I was stuck at home (or did I stick myself there?), and I thought a bit about this relationship between motivation and guilt.  If I am motivated to do something by guilt, that motivation never lasts very long and then I feel guilty about not doing the thing that I set out to do, which eventually motivates me to get going again.  I think I need to tap into a more powerful energy source though, because those periods of guilt seem to be coming more frequently and lasting longer before I do anything about it.  Not a very effective way to get things done.

I do realize that I only have first-world problems, and not even terribly many of those, and thus I should be very grateful for my situation.  I am.  I'm just also trying to figure out how to be happier.  I hate to use the word inspiration, because it seems too naive, but I'm hoping that if I remind myself that my problems are under my control to fix, that I will soon be inspired to tackle them.  Let a sweeter life be my motivation.

I shall return . . .

Obviously, the deadline has come and gone.  My dad has turned 61 in fact, and is coming up on 62 in not very many months.  I have done some dating between my last post and now, though not as much as I might have liked.  I have had dates that I knew were going nowhere, finally got picked up on the subway by someone who was normal and age-appropriate, and thought about moving across the country for someone who it turns out was not all he appeared.  (I didn't hear everything a friend was saying to me, and it cost me, but thankfully the price wasn't her friendship.)

I have also run, more miles than I ever knew I could.  I've run two incredible relays with some great friends.  I've traveled to places I've never been to run half marathons.  I've trained through a humid New York City summer to run my first marathon this past fall.  They weren't very fast miles, but I earned them.

I've seen some friends get married, and maybe lost one because I didn't.  Friends have had babies, which just means more people to welcome into our little fold.  Some have moved, or gotten new jobs.  I've been truly happy for most of them, and truly wanted to be happy for the others.  I've been trying to figure out what will make me happy.  And while that changes from day to day, I've tried to take something away from each place I've visited, and each person in my life.  I'm sometimes better at making plans than I am at executing them, but I'm working on it.

Anyway, I've decided I want to write about things.  Not just dating, since that probably wouldn't provide me with enough material to keep up with a once-a-week post.  I'm starting with that because it seems manageable, and not totally insignificant.  So I invite you to read my rants and observations, but also to ignore them either selectively or altogether, depending on your tastes.  And please, comment when the mood strikes; it's nice to know you're not alone out here.

A Preview of Things to Come

I may try a bit later to write this whole post, but I just have one thought I want to share first. I will grant you that there are some crazy-ass women out there. Women who will move a relationship at warp speed (at least in their own heads), and be stereotypically clingy and hyper-emotive a la "crazy Andy" in "How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days", and then wonder what they did to scare the guy off. I am not one of those women. However, a perfectly sane and normally together woman can be driven a little nutty when a man who has previously called her "the perfect woman", later doesn't call her at all. When he appears to be interested and mature at first, and then disappears without any sort of explanation or notice. So guys, if this sounds like you, don't put the blame for your failure on our "crazy", because it was self-inflicted. You have no one to blame but yourself, and if you can't be mature enough to tell a woman to her face that you don't want to continue seeing her, you probably don't deserve her.

Who caught JR?

Hi there.

I have an eHarmony-related post that's been in "editing" since I started it in November, but that's not what I want to talk about. Honestly, this post isn't exactly what I want to talk about either, but I'm going to take care of it first.

So, about a month and a half ago, JR and I decided to get together. I'm pretty sure it was his idea, since I've pretty much given up initiating contact with him, except on his birthday. We both had Veteran's Day off from work, so we decided to get lunch at a new beer garden on the Upper Upper West Side. I got there first, ordered a pink beer, and then he showed up and we ordered food. We were just talking, catching up on life as it goes, when he mentioned that he is now engaged. He popped the question to his girl Sally on the High Line, just before it closed. I'm sure it was nice. The ring is lovely, as he has money and good taste. I've met Sally twice, really only talked to her on one of those occasions, but she's nice enough, has a good career, and seems grounded and sure of herself. She's pretty, but I like to think I'm prettier. Which is neither here nor there.

Now, some of you may worry that I was extremely upset. Let me try to allay your concerns. One, I had just had a fabulous first date the night before with a guy I was really starting to like (this is part of a post that I want to write, but not sure I'd get it right just yet). This really helped to take the sting out of it, because I was blithely thinking that I might be on the same road, just a bit behind. Two, JR moved in with Sally only a few months after they started going out, I didn't hear anything negative about her from him, and a mutual friend predicted they'd get engaged, thus I was fairly well mentally prepared. Anyway, I wasn't so much upset that he was engaged, as I do want him to be happy, it was more the fact that he got there before me. Karma was at least supposed to give me that nod, no? That he would have to sit there feeling heartsick as he watched me marry the man of my dreams, wishing that it was him. I feel like I deserve at least that small satisfaction. So as I'm already on the handmade cutesy photo-Christmas-card list, and I'm one of the few friends from college JR is in regular touch with, I know I'll be invited to the wedding. All I can say is that if I am not dating anyone at the time of the blessed event (which let's face it, given my track record, is most probable), that Vittoria will have to be my date, and she will have to get drunk with me, because as mature as I am right now, I'm not sure that my resolve will hold in person.

Maybe I'll have more to say on this the closer we get to it.

On the Auction Block

You know, I used to think that the minutes in life that pass the slowest are those between you and your lunch when you're supremely hungry, waiting in a long line for the ladies' room at a rest stop when you've had to pee for an hour, or sitting in traffic that you didn't expect when you just want to be there already! I now know differently. I recently spent the longest two minutes of my life in a crowded bar in Midtown, waiting for someone to raise their hand to indicate their willingness to pay to spend time with me. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I was one of the items up for bid in a charity date auction. If it weren't for the proceeds going to a good cause, I would never have done this in the first place, and I certainly don't have big plans to do it again. There wasn't a stage, just a chair for the auctionees to stand on. This was a mixed blessing. It meant that there was no pressure to dance, strut, or otherwise perform, but it also meant that basically you had to just stand there, wave, smile, wink, etc, and search for your friends to make sure that their bidding arms were ready to go in case you needed rescuing from a potentially creepy date. (I must here give thanks for those friends: Jane and her husband, and my relatively new buddy Amy.) So, I'm tall already, and awkward enough on the ground, but stick me on a chair and both of those traits get amplified. So fun! So for two minutes I stood up there as the auctioneer read off my answers to the questions they asked us in advance, and I was grateful for every sound of recognition that gave me somewhere to look besides at a point just above everyone's heads. Which I'm sure made me look a tad crazy. Ah well. I am pleased to say that more than one person did bid on me, my friends did not have to pay money to spend time with me, and I brought in more than just the minimum bid. Not a lot more, but enough to be respectable. So sometime in the next few weeks I'll be taking a coworker of a friend of mine on a date, and I am hopeful that we will at least have fun, if not fall madly in love ;o).

A Brief Note

Dear eHarmony,

I rejoined your service after your barrage of bargain-filled emails; as a girl that loves a bargain and online shopping, I succumbed. There were some promising early teasers, but like the movie that puts all its best material in the trailer, all that seems to be left are the awkwardly worded jokes and second-rate stars. For another analogy, you are like an electronic version of that salesperson who keeps bringing you things in the wrong size and/or style, insisting that you just try it. I do not want to try on anyone shorter than 5'10", and if that makes me shallow and size-ist, so be it. I'm already self-conscious enough without feeling more manly than the guy I'm standing next to (besides, that happens all the time on the Lower East Side anyway). Also, I would like not to have to take the Metro North, LIRR, or NJ Transit to visit him; are there really no satisfactory available men in the five boroughs? Please keep looking, and be a bit more discerning in your suggestions.

Sincerely,

Me