So ya know how like when you skip lunch then you get so hungry that you want to eat your face so you blow up GrubHub ordering a poo-poo platter of nine separate delivery options then gorge for 6 minutes until you realize that you should have JUST eaten lunch and avoided this overload of emptiness , well that’s how I feel about not blogging since February.

I have a billion things I want to share with you about my break from internet dating, my hunt to buy an apartment, my  (x) co-worker putting a hit out on my ass, and my surprise super nice guy ‘thing’ that grew out of that Autumnal drunken hook up, but unfortunately it’s all so overwhelming and I’ll never get through it all sooooo… let’s just do bullet points.

• Red told me to STOP internet dating – so I did. Boom. Red like Swason is always right, do not ignore their advice.
• Faced with my imminent doom of dying alone and broke without savings or family my Mother offered financial help towards an apartment purchase. It was either that or have me sob inessentially on her foyer rug as I downward spiraled into a black funk bucket of realities that I did not want to face. Even though it was a cold harsh winter my mother realized that she would need to exit the house at some point and my limp sobbing body curled up in fetal position on her threshold would really harsh her lifestyle.  HOUSE HUNT ON!
• Mafia Wife Co-Worker’s crazy ratio hit 100 parts per 100 and was fired, wait there’s more – somehow I am a liar and a fraud (yep fraud) so I must pay for her dismissal. Google search term “Harassment”.
• Friday, my drunken one nighter has become my drunken 220 nighter. It’s fun and easy, the communication is open, we eat and drink yummy things, and we laugh. Now if I can make it through August without him dumping my ass I will break the curse that has hounded me the past TWO Augusts. I do have my doubts that I will make it to Labor Day with Friday still listed as a “favorite” in my contacts only for the fact that he JUST began his full time gig last week and ya know how the guys get with me – once they get that job – they are OUT!

Now that we are all caught up you can look forward to posts about bathroom tile, random financially motivated anxiety attacks, paint colors and cheese. In a perfect world there is always cheese. 

Redemption Run

I’ve borrowed my title from Swason’s running blog, recently she found redemption in a glorious run following a spirit breaking unsuccessful workout and I this morning was redeemed by my run after being bogged down in un-dating gunk.

I fell in love this morning with my city, my spirit and my body. The moon was electric before dawn; its startling white light pierced my heavy drapes welcoming me to the day at 4:45am. I stretched and prepped and hoped that 56 degrees would not feel SO shockingly awful.

When I pranced down my bock in the cover of early morning darkness I felt like an authentic competitor, a true athlete and I filled with pride at the strength of my legs and lungs. I headed west a few blocks as the black sky morphed into deep purple and the moon turned a creamy ecru. Once again I switched direction and now facing east I could see the dawn breaking ever so softly as my muscles warmed and my feet sprang forward.

  

Mid run I circle around two ‘garden’ blocks flanked with tidy post war brick homes. The streets are desolate in the early hours allowing me the opportunity to run on the forgiving asphalt through a tunnel of giant leafy trees. I circle 4 times in my private urban forest glen until the sky bursts with color and I take off due west.

My city was decked out for me this morning; she glistened in golds and pinks. Her skyline was shimmering as the moon, my moon, posed like a giant pink grapefruit directly behind the Empire State Building’s spire and the silvery elevated train slide by reflecting the amber of the warming sun setting it aglow like a mechanical comet across my most beautiful city scape.

I ran fast, faster than I ever had at this distance, it was all good, everything was fitting.

My final push is up a hill, an arduous task that covers ½ mile and reduces my pace to a fast

walk, but T-bone said it's good to run hills so I do it. I thought of my first run just weeks ago when the Greek Yaya cheered me on as I melted into the sidewalk and the LL Cool J celebrity double who flashed me the brightest smile, tossed me a thumbs up and shouted “YES”, the super in the building next door who after every run welcomes me to my block like I was a victorious Olympian, and then I thought of you, all of you. All of you who have cheered, supported, and offered up most wonderful advice. I thought of all the emails and texts I’ve received with words of encouragement and confessions of wanting to get back to doing ‘something’ and feeling inspired by my enthusiasm. I thought of all that good stuff and I choked up, as I’m doing now as I type this. My throat tightened and my lunges seized as the happy tears filled my eyes and gratitude filled my soul. From my dearest friends to strangers on the street you ALL want me to succeed and I thought….. why the HELL do I care about these idiotic strangers on these maddening dating sites? I have so many wonderful people in my life who can make my heart burst with happiness just by the mere thought of them. Red was right, I need to pause the internet man search.  I do not deserve to feel dejected and heartsick because of these mysterious non-existent men, I have to get off the dating sites and just live for a moment. I do feel that if I’m not looking for my datee then the parade will pass me by but the alternative is too destructive, I’m too strong and powerful for this nonsense – I'M A RUNNER!

At mile 5.5 with my new non-dating plan tucked into my silky running shorts I swallowed back my tears and thought WWSD (what would Swason do) well she would say, “G if you die of a happy tears induced asthma attack I will kick you in the face.” BTW -Swason has repeatedly threatened me with this remedy over the years regarding a diverse set of problems and it’s always worked. So I did it, 6.3 miles at my best pace ever and you all were there with me – redemption is MINE!

Facebook Friend or Foe

Immediately after posting my last blog I stumbled upon Sweet’s Facebook page. And by “stumbled upon” I mean easily discovered after engaged in an active search. At 42 years of age you would THINK I would be able to temper my emotions and rein in my downward spiral of doom after snooping into places I have not been invited. But NOPE, I still have enough of my tragically insecure 16 year old girly pink matter crammed up there in my scull along with the gray which tends to take over in cases such as these to drive me absolutely batty.

As I flipped through multiple photos of wine bars and jazz clubs featuring various women I began to doubt my strengthening position in our burgeoning dating scheme. It wasn’t that I was disturbed by the dates (I would be a hypocrite to cry Scoundrel! - considering what went down with one of NYs bravest) no, what made my heart ache was that I was missing from the lineup. Seriously THIS is what made me sad, the fact that a guy that I’m dating did not have OUR dates posted publically for all to comment. All my insecurity came rushing in, flooding my head and my heart with thoughts and emotions all skewed to destroy my warm fuzzy feelings of excitement and new romantic opportunities and replace them with thoughts of “You’re not attractive”, “He’s embarrassed of you”, “He’s using you”, “Sure you are fun BUT he would rather be seen in public with these other women.”…. Blah blah blah…

Yes in reality there could be TONS of reasons why I’m vacant on his Facebook and as an adult I shouldn’t care. But how the heck do you un-SEE things you shouldn’t have been looking at in the first place? Meanwhile while I was drowning in the minutia of each comment and photo tag, Sweets inadvertently drove me further into my box of crazy by going completely MIA – yep no contact, full on radio silence. My sadness quickly moved to anger then by Saturday morning (after evaluating three days of carousing posted publically on Facebook) shifted gears directly into disinterest.

By Saturday afternoon Sweets rang my phone and low key plans were made for that evening. I was not optimistic or overly enthusiastic BUT I promised myself I would arrive in full Gee Happy Puppy form and give it my best shot, even if my head was a jumble of images and comments that were not intentioned for my eyes.

Sweets arrived at my local speakeasy and I can’t be certain if it was the spicy bourbon or his tenderness or a scrumptious combo of both but in moments my angst melted away and I didn’t snap back to the real world until I entered my office Monday morning.

In the end I’m glad I know what I think I know, or at least I’m glad that I saw what I saw. The photos on Facebook tempered my expectations but have not destroyed them. Additionally I will follow Red’s demand that she laid down while talking me off the cliff of self-sabotage Saturday morning, Keep that lid TIGHTLY on your box of crazy, no guy needs to see that….. yet.