is it really possible that I'm dreaming big again? Everything is changing so fast. And finally, I feel like the time has come for me to go along with it. Starting with a new blog. My new blog can be found here: the talltravels blog on Blogspot.

Thank you all for reading and following my random thoughts, crazy stories, and zany life.
And thank you Live Journal for letting others keep up with me, no matter where and how I could be found.

I last posted. Today I find myself slowly recovering from taking two classes while working and paddling. Oh, and trying to find time to continue seeing the man who became my boyfriend but perhaps is slowly drifting away. Or is it me? Life seems closer to me now as I struggle to find ways to wrap my arms around and hold it tight. Life, that is, not my boyfriend. I'm still trying to figure things out with him. He's another story. This is my story and my life.

Even if it is almost winter. It's cold inside my condo and I don't like it at all. I woke up chilled because one of my blankets had fallen off. You know, the "extra" blanket that I'm refusing to acknowledge that I need every night. But really I do.

The fires are over but sometimes when I walk outside a whiff of smoke drifts past. Subtle enough to make me wonder if it's really there or not. Smoke mind games.

I'm all over the place tonight. I blame it on the multiple workouts today (although if one is yoga I'm not sure how much it ultimately counts) and the fact that I didn't sleep as well last night (see above statement about blankets and winter).

It was a shock to me earlier today that I still have a blog. Oh yeah! I panicked in case it was gone and I haven't finished backing up everything. Everything being the years of writing and random thoughts (like tonight's) logged here for the past...six years or so. Some years were better than others.

Tonight, I'm energized, alert, in love with life and at peace all at the same time. Does that make sense? Probably not but its true. I miss hanging out in cafes with friends over good coffee and fun conversation. Bars work too. I was supposed to head to Denver in a few days but the trip was postponed, leaving me slightly sad about that prospect. I didn't realize how much I was looking forward to seeing everyone again so soon...until I had to cancel it. Oh well, there will be another chance.

It's time I head to bed but I'm oddly excited that I rediscovered (e.g. remembered) this blog is here. Even if my words echo quietly around the Internet, I'm okay with that. Because I know how much energy and passion I'm filled with, even if it doesn't translate here.

Its good to be back.

In looking at my last entry I would have been better off slowing down and continuing to write. The baseball game put a damper on my Friday evening drive home. So instead of it taking 25 minutes, or even 45 minutes with normal rush hour traffic, it took me an hour and a half. On a sunny Friday night. There were a million more things I would have rather been doing than sitting in my car trying to be strategic about how I got home while avoiding the freeway for as long as possible. There are only so many options. Next time I'll just jump in the canoe and paddle home. (If only that was really an option!)

Saturday turned out to be one of the best days in a long time. Perhaps it was coming off of a long crappy week, or maybe it was just one of those days. Even with the morning fog, the crazy wind, challenging water, the championship race turned out to be the best race of the year. Everyone was in a great mood, relaxed and just happy to be surrounded by friends doing something we love and it was the easiest race in a long time for me. I was lucky enough to be in a pretty good crew, one who managed to squeak into a medal position. So now I'm the proud owner of a pretty, shiny fourth place medal. The only damper on the day was that the boy who called and woke me up when I overslept never made it. Apparently his day was as bad as mine was great and he couldn't make it. Oh well. The day was great enough, who needs a boy to come by anyway.

Is it just me or does time need to hold on for a moment. Everytime I turn around it's a new month. Since when is it the end of June? More importantly, since WHEN is it only one month from today that I turn 35??? Wasn't I just 27? Or at least only 30? I guess that's what happens when you shut your eyes and dive right in.

Since I found the time in June to reread all of the six current Harry Potter books (geek!), I decided I have time to take a graduate level writing class as the first step in potentially pursuing my MFA in Creative Writing. And if that weren't enough, I also signed up for a rec swim class since my last one ended. Just in case work, paddling, races, personal/circuit training, and a new boy isn't enough, I'm adding swimming back in along with a writing class.

And in writing class, I'll definitely not be mentioning that I have a stream of conscious blog that I subject the three friends I have to it for random updates on my life. They might just kick me out of the program if they read some of my entries. The first class is about teaching creative writing which I think should be great fun. It seems like a funny first step to start by teaching it rather than taking the classes that make it up, then learning to teach it, but I'm all about starting backwards. Besides, it is my secret hope that it will help ease me in so I won't have to start off by writing 500 page stories. Excited about it? You bet. I've wanted to do degree forever so it's fun that I get to start it finally. I only hope that I do find the time to manage it. If I can take the time to teach a class, taking one should be a breeze, right?

Right?

My fingers are crossed. Even though I taught, I have a terrible feeling that I'm being a little too flippant about starting school again. Most people would find it very daunting. I'm trying to stop myself from taking on anything else.

And of course, there's my countdown to Denver. I can't wait to visit my friends there in a few weeks. It isn't apparent since I'm at a standstill at how to begin letting people know that I'm coming and I know how much I also really want to relax. I found out yesterday that one of my good friends who I thought was mad at me all year long (and wasn't really mad at all) moved to Chicago a few weeks ago so I'll just miss her.

It's that time and timing thing again. Some day I'll get the hang of it. Until then, I'll keep coming up with ways to make it stop. If only so I can step back and enjoy that moment and pack it in my memory bag to remember for later.

I'm supposed to be working (hi work people spying on my computer). Those spying will probably bust me for streaming music at 5:30pm on a friday trying to stall before jumping headfirst into traffic. Oh yeah, and I have to put gas in my car. It's a fun life I lead full of mystery and surprises.

Only that kind of mundaneness (is that a word?) is nothing compared to the week I've had. In a nutshell? We had a very slight threat against me and my team so HR got a roving security guard for us for a few days. It has left my still new boyfriend frustrated with me, my team very stressed and a weird kind of reality where you wake up in the morning thinking "is this really my life?"

One thing to note: if ever there is a security guard and you're trying to chat with him while you show him around, don't ever ask how long he's been doing it. Because if he responds with a slight laugh and says, "well this is my first day" it lends itself to an uncomfortable silence. Even when it's followed up with "I was in the military for a long time". Doesn't matter. Because you know that the person guarding your personal safety may not know what he's doing. Let's talk about the power of prayers, even if only for a psychological balance.

Not that I don't think prayer is great, I do it myself all the time.

Last weekend was spent in a small mountain town in Northern California. One of those casual happy small towns filled with scary mountain lesbians and retired hippies who moved there for the last twenty plus years of their lives. We were there for a wedding of a dear lifelong friend of our family. This means that my brother, sister, sister-in-law, me and parents were all in the same place at the same time. It is a very rare occurence. Not quite like an eclipse or Hailey's Comet but almost.

I'm babbling and just realized that it's time to go. This week is almost over. Tomorrow at least will be very exciting with a fun championship race and a chance to relax with friends. The time for the threat, if there ever was one has passed and now I'm hoping we can all move on.

Everytime something happens that pushes me to some sort of limit, I wonder how does one know when they have enough character? Yesterday as I paddled in the very slow boat that clearly wasn't going anywhere I had plenty of time to contemplate it. The first half of the "race" (for lack of a better word) involved sitting in the middle of the ocean heading towards the rigs and paddling quietly away. The little engine who knew there was no way in hell that it could. Earlier, as our crew found each other at the last minute and grabbed people to help us launch, we timed it just right with the waves, ran the canoe in and away we went. Away that was until they guy sitting behind me said, "hey, the ama's on backwards!"

We all stopped and looked in horror, the entire ama and both yakos had been rigged backwards. As if someone had planned to put them on the other side, or, thought the canoe went the other way. Normally it helps lift the canoe off the water, creating a nice glide all while playing the part of keeping the canoe balanced and stable. Backwards, it created a ton of drag, similar to when we do those resistance practices and our coach would put a tire on the canoe to drag in the water and keep us from going anywhere.

Together we decided that we'd come that far, a little farther isn't going to hurt, and it was too late to turn around. So we paddled to the starting line, took our place and when the flag dropped, so did our paddles. My friend was in the canoe next to us. When I told her we were rigged backwards, she laughed and told her crew that I always have the best stories.

But that wasn't a story I wanted. The day before I had thought I was going to be in the crew with two of my good friends. That morning I had found out that since I had worked late on Thursday, they had filled that seat with a sub (another friend of mine) so I was on the not-so-great crew. Then that crew got split up and I was put on the crew of the people who didn't qualify as masters and/or couldn't help get a medal. My coach was horrified to find out that I qualify as master's this year so I could have sat in the other canoe. But instead I found myself with "the rest" who turned out to be a pretty solid crew, surprisingly. What I found out most about the crew though is the fact that even though we were suddenly not in the race, everyone rallied and wanted to still paddle. So paddle we did - for one hour then we turned around and paddled back for an hour. We never did get to go around the rig which is the best part of the race.

It was the true character building that faced me after that. The character building that comes in when both of those two canoes I could have been in came in first place. While I? I paddled hard in a canoe that someone had rigged incorrectly. Woulda coulda shoulda. I tried to separate myself from my friends for a little while so they could discuss their super-cool first place while I couldn't hear. It didn't take long for me to have to start fighting not to cry. See, being competitive and competing against your friends when you know you all work hard is a tricky thing. M. reminded me last night (even though I didn't want to be reminded right then) that it isn't always about winning or losing but about doing something you enjoy. And if it becomes about winning or losing then make a plan on how to improve.

For me, I think the hardest was that I really am happy for my friends. They work hard, and they absolutely deserve it. The fact that they wanted to stay for the awards ceremony so they could get their awards, well I would have done the same. The problem was that, their decision of wanting to stay over-ruled our previous plans of leaving early so I could get back for a good friend's birthday. So now I have spent the last half of the day feeling like a crappy friend to the people in front of me as well as to the friend I didn't get home in time to see for her birthday. It takes a special kind of day to run into so many challenges.

Character building? You bet. My friend may think its great that I have all of these stories but sometimes, I just wish life could be easier. The nice thing is that nothing bad ever happens to me, just stupid (i.e. preventable) stuff. Character - how do you know when you have enough? Truly?

So they say it's the journey not the destination that matters. However, after about an hour of paddling yesterday I started to wonder if this was really the case. It was our first race of the year - the one that is always fun to get out of the way. It removes the pre-race season jitters, it shows us that we're all strong enough and in good enough shape to make it through (although there were a few places in the race yesterday that I started to wonder if this was true), and we get to see our old friends from other clubs. Did I mention that we get to prove that we can do it? Normally this race is also a little shorter, seeing as its the first and all. Yesterday's race took my crew one hour and 45 minutes. That isn't so short. So despite all of my swimming, weight lifting and paddling, I actually found myself wondering if I could really do it. The wind that we paddled directly into wasn't helping the way one would think that it would. It created choppy water for us to stab our paddles into in hopes that they would help us move the canoe along. It was a slow process and like I said, after about an hour I was ready to b e done, when, in reality we were probably not even at the second turn buoy yet. The one that would let us switch from paddling straight into the wind, too putting it at our backs for that extra push we all needed.

Next week's race is in Santa Barbara - around the oil rigs and back. Six long miles there and six long miles back. It should be fun.

Perhaps one of the highlights of the race yesterday (besides coming in 37 out of 69), was that M. showed up bearing my favorite coffee drink and himself. He stayed for half of the day. Showing up in the morning not long after I did, and not leaving until a while after my race. It really did make my day. I think more so that, besides just the thought of surprising me, but that time is so very precious to him and all that he does. So to take more than a half-day out and spend it with me was good for him. But it was also very good for me, because it meant that he listened to what I had said earlier in the week and put it to great use. (If I do say so myself). My subtle friends kept coming over to be introduced which made me laugh. He probably met more people yesterday just from them coming up and introducing themselves, or coming over to me when I wasn't next to him and asking to meet him. My friends are good like that. Every single one of them has a big personality all of their own. Nothing at all like me...

Anyway, the first race is done. Work is overwhelming and there's far too much to do these days. And overall, life is great.

How do two people make it work when you both want to see each other but neither is used to compromising their existing lives/schedules/plans/etc. to make room for another?

When are you free?
When are you free?
Why can't you fit into my available time?
Why can't you fit into mine?

Why is your XYZ reason more valid than mine? It isn't any more important than my reason for being busy when you're not.

Clearly both of us have hears these comments before and just as clearly, we have each decided in the past for whatever reason that our lives as they stand are more important than whoever was trying to get in. So how do you get past that point without one person doing all of the compromising? And how do you mesh the lives of two people with strong personalities together? Or do you?

Questions, questions, questions. Who on earth decided it was better to become and stay busy than to make room for someone else?

I wish I didn't know more than one answer to that question.

Perhaps it's because I am in dire need of a vacation. Perhaps it's because earlier today when I talked to my boss who leaves on Friday for Italy, about my own situation of being burnt out. Or perhaps I've just been missing my Colorado friends more than usual. Sometimes I think they feel that and call out of the blue. Like my dearest L. who called tonight. For the first time in forever we were able to get the update of each other's lives.
It sounded like this:
- I only get to sleep in four hour increments but he's so cute.
- I'm trying to get used to the thought of depending on someone else in my life. It looks like it will be worth it though if I can do it.
- Did M. really find a wild baby fox in her yard and keep it in her bathroom for a night so she could take it to the wild animal protection place?
- He can do what with his tongue? (kidding, just seeing if anyone is still reading this)
- What kind of energy work do they do?
- How's my littlest boyfriend Sam?
- You can't eat what now? Well did you tell her you don't eat food that has little girl slobber on it?

So much for Sex in the City. That's the beauty of conversations with L. they can go no where and everywhere at the same time in a complete random train of thought manner but by the end we're both quite content, caught up and laughing. We used to be able to curl up on whatever random furniture, our six foot bodies (both of us) draped over the arms of chairs, the length of couches, with tea or wine in hand we'd go to the clouds and back down covering books, men, friends, work, music, art and life. All in one afternoon or evening.

Then one day I moved.

Since these verbal travels are fewer and farther between. This afternoon I had a quick thought about going to Denver for a short vacation to get away and tonight L. called. Did she hear it, as crazy as that sounds? For us sometimes it's possible.

And tonight I lay on my bed tired and frustrated. Should have been in bed a while ago since today is my tired-from-workouts day. It was also my "hey, let's go out to dinner tonight" day. Too bad the phone never rang. Tomorrow? What day is tomorrow? that is the "work all day then go see the sneak peak/premier of the new Spiderman movie" day. Uber-geeks eat your heart out. I don't even know whyh the suit turns black.
I just think it looks cool and like a great story.

Slowly I can feel the wheels start moving. So man projects at work need to be completed in the next few weeks. There's an exciting new one that is looming and I heard my name is on the list of people to work on the upgrade for the University's website which is always fun but will prove more challenging since I'm not the one managing it anymore. It is hard not to stir things up since everything is the same. I need new ideas, new challenges, new scenery.

Too bad that right now what I need most is sleep.

Is good. I suppose there should be more to it than that and yes I have a few complaints (like the fact that I'm still at work) but for the most part, life is good. How can I complain when outside my window and across the street (okay fine, and across the golf course) there is the ocean. When I close my eyes I can see it even though it is different every day, every minute.

Yesterday in practice I was just happy to finish because there was a point when I wasn't sure if the canoe would make it back. For no other reason than the six of us in it couldn't get our act together and act as one. Instead the timing was off so we moved as two halves which failed to make a whole. This morning when I swam, each arm moving into the water in front of me I realized what it is about swimming, about paddling that keeps me wanting more. I've heard it's the same idea as in tennis and golf but since I've never really played either I'll stick with paddling and swimming. And the idea is that there is no accomplishing it. There's no finishing, looking over and saying, "I've learned how to do it now I'm done." I guess in video game talk it would be completing the game. You may get one perfect stroke, or one perfect side/lap but then there's another one coming right behind it so you have to make sure that one's perfect too. All the way to your destination. Each moment is different, the water's different, the reach is different and there's nothing that can take you back to the one before it.

Don't get me wrong, yesterday's practice sucked. But it still had moments of perfection burried deep (very deep) within.

There haven't been any new crazy stories to tell. Things have been quiet in general - as long as you can count a million workouts a week, working, seeing friends, and continuing to date someone new "quiet." Because if you can then life is good. And if you can't then you need to tell me where to find a good seamstress because I need a pair of pants hemmed. A fact which cracks me up. People think my legs are long? There's a website I found where the average pair of pants inseam is 36" and for those who are extra tall, there's the 39" option.

How's that for a sidenote. Hello ADD, welcome back.

I sit here pondering the flashing cursor. This is where my words are supposed to go. Fingers on keyboard. Me, lost in thought. I cleaned up one of my old email addresses today (for some reason I collect my own email addresses like other people collect...pens? music? what DO people collect?) and found a few emails that had to do with my writing. I had asked friends to send me articles and stories I wrote after my computer crashed. Many of them complied - more so than I thought even had my random little stories. It made me think back to when I first moved to California from Colorado. How many hopes and dreams I had. How I knew it was absolutely the right thing and how I've never looked back except to find my friends who I still love and miss on a regular basis. I think I've done an injustice to M. when I look back at my comments about him. Not when it comes to how we met, but ever since. He's proving again and again to be one of the most fascinating people I've met in a long time. Just when I think I've heard it all, there's another story, another layer to find out about. I'm naturally guarded and untrusting when it comes to myself but I also enjoy being pushed in areas that most guys I've dated let me slide. In my thoughts, opinions, actions. In the answers to seemingly simple questions. Like, "where do you see yourself in a year from now?" That answer, encapsulates all of my restlessness and is a dangerous one for me to ponder, let alone articulate. Where do I see myself a year from now? There's so many answers to that question that they crowd each other and I can't get any of them out.

But like my addiction to paddling, swimming, and anything else that takes a while to learn and then once you have it, you have to focus on it all the time. My writing, my poor attempts to draw again, my addiction to new stories and new people. My restlessness and desire for something new and to shake up my world again. It's in the air. Spring fever? No. It's life as I know it. And I feel fine.

There are two things that caught my attention this week (so far anyway). The first was a link from Seth's Blog to an article about the song "This is Why it's Hot". While I have no reason as to why this article is funny to me, it just is. So I'm sharing it (which was actually the topic of Seth's Blog today in the first place). Actually, the entire topic of his blog was about sharing things you like with people and our overall need to talk and share with each other. But the article includes an indepth analysis (complete with graphs and equations as to why that song is so Hot.

Which leads me to the next cool thing found online. Yesterday Slate (aside: the cool article was on Slate and not my beloved Salon.com , this is because over the past few months Slate has been increasing in overall quality and my interest in the quality of Salon has been decreasing) had an article about Twitters, an interesting concept of people essentially blogging in short spurts (limit of 140 characters) about their lives. The article had a link to a website called Twittervision that shows you where in the world people are submitting their twitters from. The map moves all over the world and you can see what people are doing from where. Fascinating. And great for people with ADD, you don't have to pay attention to any one thing for long.

Oh, and if you're interested in an update about the boy (or "man", I guess more correctly), you'll just have to wait a little while, or at least until I'm not at work. Despite my initial fears (of being overwhelmed, not of my safety but I do truly appreciate the concern), things are going well. It's a weird relationship of sorts but it's mine and I'm definitely enjoying it. Far be it from me to expect anything normal. It's way too late for that.

First of all, to my friends who commented on my last few postings, when I said "scared" I didn't mean scared for myself and my well being. I meant scared as in overwhelmed, as in this kind of thing never happens to me so how/why/where/why now? But in that way and in almost every other way life has been great.

And it can only get better now that I'm done teaching. Saturday was my last class and I'm done, done, done. Well I will be as soon as I grade their final presentations. It was crazy. On a beautifully sunny Southern California Saturday afternoon, these students stayed in the class to see their classmates present for the entire afternoon. Many even stayed for the last student who's time went over the time of the class. Two stayed later to talk to me. I was torn between being flattered and thinking I'm such a great professor, and wanting them to get out because they made me even later for the birthday party I was supposed to be attending.

Class turned out to be good though. Hopefully for all involved. I even lined up a few students to talk to the local DJ for the new radio/web/event partnership going on at work. Ahh the joys of being so cool you can line up people to be interviewed by radio DJ's. Probably a lot cooler before the days of MP3 players and satellite radio.

As for the boy, or man rather. Things are mostly really good. I still haven't seen his house or anything about him, but we have had many extremely good conversations even though we face things from two different ways of thinking. I've learned a lot about him and most of it makes me want to learn more, if only just out of fascination. On Friday night he picked me up really late so I was pissy and to my increasing irritation, it amused him. He was smart enough to keep talking to cover up my quiet anger until I calmed down enough to respond and carry on a conversation and communicate. It helped that he had taken me to one of my favorite places in town and as we walked and talked, just the atmosphere of the place alone made me remember how lucky I am. Of course the atmosphere included water and the salty air that rises off of it and surrounds me. The same way his words surrounded me the more we talked.

In all we were there walking and talking, sitting and people watching, and talking some more for almost four hours. It's funny because in many ways I feel like he's only seen one side of me - the tired, introverted side that has sadly emerged lately. The more vicarious outgoing side of me has been in hibernation when I'm not teaching. So once I catch up on everything, we'll have to see what he thinks then. But like I said, it's been a month and he still calls almost every morning to say hello and tell me to have a good day. That simplest of gestures makes me smile, even as some days we start talking and it makes me late. So we'll see where things continue to go with this older African-American Republican man I'm somehow now quite happily dating.

Today I did nothing but hang out at home. Sick. Have been for the past two days. But tonight I went out with M. for a little while. Instead of going anywhere specific we ended up talking in his car.

At one point he looked at me and said, "I told my mom about you."
What?
I told my mom about you.
What did you tell her?
I told her I finally met her. That I finally met the one.
I'm sorry, what?
Yes. I told you, I want to be yours and I want you to be mine. You don't know it yet, but I'm the guy for you.

Holy crap. I want to walk away from him, from his words that just can't be true. There's no way they are. A person can't know that soon who they want to be with. For the rest of your life. No matter how great I am, it doesn't work that way.

But I can't seem to walk away. The worst part is that I actually had a great time with him tonight, doing nothing but sitting in his car talking. It was fun and he has more stories than I do. They're different kinds of stories but stories they are. And it was fun. Really truly fun and sitting in the car with him listening and talking, I was happy. Happy with this crazy stranger who can't be found on google, who is 49 (!!!) years old, and who called to tell his mom that I'm the one.

Is that really so bad? Overwhelming as anything, but...

So Wednesday night rolled around and there I was, wandering the rows of amazing photography at the art museum, wondering if a particular man was going to call and confirm plans. He didn't call so I kept admiring the photos. With an entire Annie Leibovitz collection to walk through, I was certainly fine with how my evening had turned out. Besides, who does he think he is, all the big talk and nothing to prove it.

So when it came time to leave the museum, it was an hour later than I'd told him we could meet. Irritated, I sent a text message to find out the story. He called immediately to see if we were still on.
I was waiting for you.
And I was waiting for you.

It was late, the kitchen was closing soon. He instructed me to drive over to where he was while he looked for an open restaurant. I flipped back and forth between trying to figure out where we were eating and texting my two guardian friends the local of our "date." M. called me back.
I found a Chinese place across the street from the cafe. Come over here and I'll pick us up food. What do you want?
I'm not that hungry, so I'll just steal some of yours. Oh, and I don't eat beef so if you want to share, it has to be chicken.
Okay, see you in a few minutes.

I parked my car and walked over in time to see him paying and leaving the restaurant. We said hello to each other and walked to the 7-11 to grab something to drink. Nothing shouts romance like a brightly lit convenience store. I must have been completely crazy. Crazy or not, we were both there, him singing and me sighing, we walked back out to the street and tried to figure out where to eat. "Let's go this way," and he led me down one of the side streets. Halfway down the street we stopped at a church and sat down on the steps. With a flourish he pulled out two containers and handed me some chopsticks.
What the hell, it could be worse.
"What did you get for us?" I asked as I rubbed my chopsticks against each other.
"Mongolian Beef and rice."
Oh.
I explained as politely as I could that I would just be eating the vegetables since I don't eat beef.
"You don't eat beef?"
"Uh, no."
"You don't eat beef?! Why didn't you say something?"
"I did."
After much shaking of his head he finally said, "Your friends are going to tell you to dump me. I am making you eat beef laden vegetables on the steps of a church."
"You're right, they will tell me to dump you."

Especially if they can't find you on google. I didn't say this last part out loud but somehow he heard it anyway and went on to explain to me how he has had friends try to find him on google but they can't. That was later, after we ate the dinner of rice (for me) and beef (for him) and were walking through random cute neighborhood streets.

The weird thing is, as random as the evening was, I had a good time with him. Despite his republicanness, despite the non-dinner of beef, despite my needing to change my shoes into goofy flip-flops from my heels so we could walk around.

And he called the this morning to say hello and tell me to have a great day.
Things are always in the details and despite everything, the details are turning out to be pretty good.

It's been a while since I've had a new good story to entertain the masses. At work yesterday they informed me that almost an immediate association is made between the Empire State Building and my head getting stuck in it anytime someone mentions New York City.

Dare to dream big. Some people influence others by saving lives, by volunteering, by doing random acts of kindness. Not me. My 15 minutes of fame appears to involve getting my head stuck. I wonder if my mom & dad are as proud of me as they were before this happened.

Well, it's story time again kids. That time of the year (month? week? day?) when something crazy unusual happens to me that doesn't happen to most people.

This time I was working in a cafe (gasp!) getting ready for my next class that started tonight. So there I am, new fancy-ish laptop, ipod, textbook out, all ready to roll. When I notice this guy who keeps looking over at me from across the room. I half smile then go back to work. A little while later I notice that he's moved over to one of the chairs nearby. He is a pretty good looking guy and there's something interesting about him so since he keeps looking over, I take off my ipod wondering if he'll take it as an invitation to speak. He doesn't. Instead after a little while of working, looking over at me and working, he gets up and moves over near the door.

Realizing the time, and how tired I was, I pack up and leave. As I walk at the door, he's looking at me. With a quick smile, I say "goodnight" to the silent guy and walk to my car. He follows me outside and stands on the street corner outside the cafe. As I pull up to the intersection where he's standing to drive home, I see him smile at me. Are you kidding me? Now he smiles? I roll down my window, "Can I help you? Did you forget to use your words tonight?"

He runs over to my car window, and standing in the middle of the street, he introduces himself, "Hi, I'm Max. You looked so busy that I didn't want to bother you but I would really like to get to know you. How do I do that, you just had coffee so I can't ask you that."

Somehow in the middle of all that, I answered him to see what he'd come up with, "you're right, I did just have coffee and now I'm leaving. So what do you suggest?"

"There's a parking spot right there, park and talk to me for a few minutes."

So, I did. I climbed out of my car wondering what I was doing. Unfortunately I said it out loud and had to stop in case he saw me talking to myself. We stood talking on that corner, five feet from the garbage can, next to my car for over an hour. When he asked if I was married or ever had been, and he confirmed the same information, he suddenly dropped down on one knee with my hand in his. "Will you marry me?"

Laughing I had to say no. When he looked crushed, I pointed out that there was no way I was going to be proposed to five feet from a garbage can on a street corner. So he jumped up, with my hand still in his and pulled me away from the can, asking how far away we'd actually need to be. All in all, he proposed twice on that corner. When I asked how afraid he'd be if I actually said yes, he whipped out his phone and told me he'd call his mom to tell her about the angel he just met said yes and he's getting married.

Clearly he just met me if he's calling me an angel. Because last I checked, sarcasm and angels don't mix.

When he started to ask me a second time, I made him wait a while, "at least five minutes." He tracked it on his cell phone. Unfortunately for him, I felt the need to point out that I actually have been proposed to on a street corner before when I lived in Colorado. He made me describe the corner since he used to live there. Once the level of activity of the corner was established, I told him about the homeless man who grabbed my hand and flung himself at my feet with a flourish. He had a rose in one hand that he presented to me and his stereo on a luggage cart. Max had neither of those things so already on the street corner proposals, he was behind.

Still, he insisted on seeing me again and continuing to get to know me. So I gave him my phone number to see if he'd use it. He called the next morning with an offer to stop by the courthouse and pick up a marriage license. Someone is either extremely desperate or madly infatuated. Or a liar. Or a prankster.

He's a lot older than I am and I found out last night that fundamentally we differ (because I think Republicans are essentially evil and he's an uber republican), but tomorrow night we're going out to dinner. So we'll see from there.

He has no idea what a flury of activity he has created with my friends who are intent on my not dating another parolee. Between myself, a few of my employees and a few friends, his name has probably been searched on Google more times than ever. I also have strict instructions as to ensure my safety when I meet the street corner proposer. It's an interesting thing, dating while trying to be safe. Trusting when you're not sure if you can. Knowing who you can trust when you've already been burned by someone who crafted a life out of lies. This guy talks a big game but is it lies or is he trying to impress me. And as for the proposals and his intense interest in me, is it stalking, or is it insanity? Is it desperation as in the article I read last week on Salon.com about older men who have spent their lives busy and trying to make it suddenly realizing that they're almost 50 (or are 50) and are suddenly faced with the realization that they still don't have a family so they look to date women who are younger and can provide them with that.

Or is it love at first sight? Does that even exist?

Either way tomorrow night is the date so only time will tell.

Streetcorner proposals. Sounds like it should be a song.

I had a startling revelation today as I drove home from visiting good friends and my little 3 year-old boyfriend in LA this weekend. The sky was gray, the wind had picked up and as I neared home, I started thinking of the year ahead. Teaching, taking a quick vacation, the super-cool new project at work that will help settle the restlessness I've been feeling in life lately, the trip to HI for the race, when to head up to NorCal to see my family, and... Then I tried to figure out what weddings I need to go to this year to fit them in or vacations in with them.

Only I don't have any weddings. I only know one couple who is engaged and there's no way I'm invited to that wedding. Which leaves me...suddenly overjoyed and startled at the same time. For the first time in how many years - almost ten? I don't have any weddings to go to this year? Really? Am I suddenly so old that no more friends are getting married? Or worse, is it truly that everyone has been married off and there isn't anyone else left?

I'm invited to a birthday dinner on Tuesday night for my fabulous roommate and with her new boyfriend, I'm suddenly the odd number on the invite list again. It's been years since that's been the case and I'm not sure how I feel about suddenly being in this position again four years later. When I mentioned it at coffee to a friend of mine, his intense distaste for marriage and all of his friends who have been brought down by their wives caught me by surprise. Of all of his friends he only knew one happy marriage. Of all of mine I only knew of a few who were unhappy - all of the rest work it out and truly enjoy each other even with all of the work involved. I told him he needs better examples of relationships because that's just sad.

Outside the rain has begun and I wonder what it brings. I used to love it and would sneak outside on my parents patio to dance in the dark under the clouds as the rain fell down my face. It always felt like it was washing away the old me, or whatever things I wanted to change and giving me whatever strength I would need. The smell of rain would drift up from the ground and I felt renewed. Now I sit and watch it from my window, looking out through the trees.

There's a lot to be said for rain in San Diego. It is needed so badly, even as I enjoyed the 70-80 degree weather the last few days, it is dry and like the plants, sometimes I just need a little rain.

Okay, I don't actually have a Valentine (huge shock, I know), but when I woke up this morning, it was still dark. I drove to my swim class where I met my friends and we swam for about an hour. After the post-swim shower, random locker-room conversations and getting into my work clothes, I climbed into my car. Frank Sinatra filled my car as he sang his non-sappy song about his Valentine. It was classy, not sappy and I ate it up. Of course the fact that it was followed by Bjork, the Clash and then Beck made the drive to work effortless. I wish every day could start this way. Since this year my typical dates, Ben and Jerry were denied me (no eating dairy, wheat or soy!) and I'm not feeling that great so I forgo my paddling date (not paddling in the way you may be thinking of "paddling"), I was left to appreciate my funny valentine for the rest of the day.

Someday. Beyond the material aspect, beyond the hallmark crap, beyond all of that is the simple truth of a day that celebrates love.

I actually called up a guy who I had dated last year and then ran into him at New Years so we have been hanging out lately. The actually part was that I called to invite him to a work party thing since it is at a restaurant/bar that I know he really likes. When he answered the phone I launched into, "Hi, okay, I'm calling because I have a question for you. But I don't want you to think that I think that we're dating because I know we're not. There's this party with people from work..." And so on. Poor guy never stood a chance. At least the unspoken truth between us - that we are friends and it will never be more than that don't really need to be spoken. I just laugh at myself for making sure of it.

Or making sure that there are enough walls up so that he never stood a chance, not even a year ago. It helps that he's not the right one but the idea is the same. Those damn walls I built so long ago. Once I thought they were down and then they crumbled. Last summer I thought I'd managed to pull them down again but I'm realizing that they are up almost stronger than ever. They seem to go hand in hand with my self-esteem. Funny that. Last summer when I found a different way to think about words like loyal all the while digging deep inside myself to push myself into new areas, and into the canoe. Things I never thought possible.

Physically I can do it. Mentally I can do it. Why can't I figure out the other parts that involve other people and relationships that go beyond friends. Damn vulnerabilities. Damn men who tell me I'm too tall. The chip on my shoulder also appears to be back in some form or another. Too tall? Really? Okay. I'll take that because I understand the concept of too short. I also understand that it is impossible to speak in absolutes (hee). Like, "I will never take an exercise class that requires me to be there at 6:30am twice a week." Unless it is a swim class and I can take it with several friends, and the class turns out to be Awesome! I didn't know all of that though until I conceeded to getting up early enough to try it. Of course the early mornings aren't any easier, especially with it still dark and cold when we get up. The fact that I can take a swim class that starts in February and is outside is a fabulous miracle in itself. Its reasons like that why I love living in Southern California.

So sing it Frank. And the world with all of my fabulous friends can be my Funny Valentine.

Well, I guess it is the new year more so than in the New Year. As if, now that the year is new, deeper, more meaningful thoughts will creap into my psyche. That's not exactly the case. The case more is along the lines of:
"New Year's eve was fun, had dinner and too much wine. Went to dive bar and ran into old employee made vague plans to get together for drinks, then ran into guy I dated earlier in the year. Made vague plans to get together with him. Apparently the entire world need me as their friend. Talked to a few strangers, celebrated the new year, talked to a few more changes then went home. Alone. Ignored 2:30am call from guy I'd run into earlier."

Last week I ended up sick so the weekend was spent catching up on movies. That seems to be the usual for me after having a week off from work. Come back, get sick, take a few more days (in this case only one) off. The movies watched? An odd assortment that ranges from The Company, to Clerks 2, to AI, to Jet Li's Fearless. At least you can't say I'm predictable. Or at least my movie choices aren't.

Tonight was Bunco. I'd never heard of it before I was invited to play, but apparently bunco is typically played by "affluent suburban women". Well, we are women, and some could be considered affluent. And a few live sort of in the suburbs. Mainly a bunch of women gather, throw some dice, drink a bunch, win a little money (someday I'll be a winner!), drink some more, and if you are really lucky you get to wear the bunny...which is a relatively obscene stuffed animal hanging on a pearl necklace. Sounds like fun? It is when there's 11 friends hanging out with you. The first time we went I may have been getting a little competitive which is so unlike me. One of my paddling friends finally called me on it in her own hilarious way. Something along the lines of the entire world riding on my roll of the dice. Tonights was more low key. I somehow managed not to win, and only missed losing (but still winning money) by one. Oh well, there's more games to be had.

It's a funny thing, this getting older. On one hand, I'm incredibly restless and miss the days of traveling for work. On the other hand, I love being able to plan my life and see my friends without spending more time at the airport than anywhere else. I'm not sure what I miss, or why I'm so restless right now. I'm leaning towards the fact that I haven't been out on the water for a few months now and am feeling a little land-locked. Or, I'm just restless and need to change things up a little. A year and a half in the same condo, the same job for almost three years now - these little things are almost records for me. At work, one of my team made a comment about how these women sat down at her and her friend's table on her cruise. And she was concerned that these women would ruin their chances to meet guys, but also for fun since the women were old, at least 35...

Then I look at her and her lifetime goal of getting married and staying home with kids and I wonder. Because if you'd asked me at 26 what I want out of life, my answer would be totally different than what it is today. Things have changed, life has changed. I can't imagine thinking 35, or 34 for that matter is old, except when I was in my teens. But now... it doesn't feel so old. Especially when I see all that she doesn't know, and the experiences that have made me, and continue to make me who I am. I loved my 20's, but I think that the 30's have definitely grown on me. It's easier to be confident and some things come easier.

And that's my ADD for the new year.

It's time for me to resurface again. It's been a while. Since I've resurfaced from everything that I let pull me under. Waves come crashing up in the form of "just one more thing" or "wouldn't this be fun" and so I dive back under until lately I've found it easier to just stay under.

Waves in the form of work. Of a trip to Baja with friends for one last race of the season. Waves in the form of a conference in San Francisco, of an employee who quit leaving us with additional work needing to be completed. Of the offer to teach a one-month long undergraduate marketing class at a local university. When the students said, "professor..." sometimes I forgot they were talking to me.

But now I'm up for air. Trying to make time for friends, for family, for working out, for myself. Getting things back into the order they once knew - albeit briefly. I love having a week off of work so I can try to make everything right again, only this time at a slower pace. A slow pace is something I'm not familiar with, it goes against my all or nothing philosophy I've sadly created for myself.

So many things to work on. But first is the filing stacked next to my desk and the movies sitting on top of my tv. No one said it all has to be done today.

Live the life exciting.
And enjoy.

I hate letting go of people I like. And what I've learned is that I hate it even more when people I like decide to let go of me. The funny thing is that I should feel more sad but instead I'm frustrated. An email here and there doesn't equal "dating" even more than it equals "getting to know each other better." Instead it becomes "dragging things out."

Slowly.
And yet I can't seem to stop. Neither can he.

For the first time I find myself wondering "who on earth is crazy enough to let me go?". A ridiculous question filled with more ego than I truly have. But in this case I just shake my head. I can't know everything (even though I like to) and I can't control everything (and we know I have no interest in this). So instead I am left trying to forget. Sailing. Sunsets. Laughter. Hiking. Exploring, new destinations and each other. Good conversations. More laughter. A love of the water and adventure. Zany unpredictability. In my head I put all of these things into a bottle and throw it out to sea. To see. To forget. To look towards the future instead of the past. Perhaps whoever finds it will understand more than I. I know the past, I can still feel its touch on me. But that no longer matters as much as what is to come.

Last week I thought it would be a great idea to see if I could start teaching classes every now and then at the university where I work. So tonight I was invited to sit in on a class on a military base in order to get an idea of classroom life. First of all, it was amazingly easy to get onto the military base. A quick smile at the guy as I explained I was there for a class. One hand was searching for my ID while I was talking. My ID was never needed though and I was waved through. Later my friend pointed out that all you do is be a cute girl and you can get right onto the base. It struck me as odd that I can drive right onto a base and yet we can barely get onto an airplane these days without donating DNA and full-body searches.

Anyway, sitting in the class watching the interactions going on around me I became excited. It may not have appeared that way given my need to draw while I'm listening (especially when it's stuff I already know). This could be really fun. It's going to suck up my free time during the month that I'm teaching, but I'm getting excited about it. Let's hope that this excitement holds up as I dive through the textbook. Now, the bigger concern is - who on earth is crazy enough to give me the power to teach others? Are they kidding? The potential to make up information is definitely more tempting than it should be.

Perhaps I can manage to be good - even if just for a month...