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Absence satisfactorily explained.

And now feel embarrassed and silly for airing my crisis of faith on the internets.

[oh well...  what else is a blog for but for public humiliation and shame?  kidding!  kind of...]

I’m sick.  And pissed off.

Not very surprising really – this often happens to me if I am really stressed, overtired, and then RELAX.  Happened almost every time I had exams in law school – week afterward, we were out of school and I could relax and sleep and WHAM – I would get sick.   Fun times.

Oh well – could be worse.  In about a zillion ways.  I’m not feeling horrible – actually feel pretty OK during the days… just too much coughing at night to sleep well.

But.  I am also sick in the head, a little.

Will spare the details, but I am having a hell of a time letting go of some expectations I let myself get really, really, very attached to.  Have been battling back and forth between accepting the reality of the present state and trying to control something I can’t control.  For WEEKS now I’ve been spending so much emotional time and energy on this ridiculousness.   And it is making me really unhappy.  But that unhappiness doesn’t seem to be motivating me to LET GO of the battle.

Because I really don’t want to – it feels like giving up on something that will make me so so sad to give up on.   Perhaps more miserable than the white-knuckle-desperately-hanging-on-miserable that I’m feeling now.

Argh.

I feel so frustrated and defeated at the same time.

Oh, and also sick.

The thing about communication is that context really is key.

flattery-pick-up-lines-tmA certain word or phrase, coming from a friend, sounds completely different coming from a boss, or from someone you don’t know, or from the guy making your latte at Starbucks.

Today I ran into RB during a lunchtime Costco dash (yeah, we were down to the last 4 diapers at Casa Habesha Child… not pretty).

Anyway, it was nice to see him (he’s relatively hot), so I stopped to chat, which I soon regretted.

Because he kind of not-so-subtlety told me I was afraid of intimacy and that was the real reason why I didn’t want to date him.  In a I-know-you-and-I’m-calling-you-on-your-stuff way, which I find REALLY annoying, because he doesn’t actually know me.  At all.

He was also giving me the once-over in a weird way – which perplexed me until I realized that he is used to seeing me down at the boathouse and in my workout gear and sweaty and not so glam.  But today I was in my nice work duds, and kind of somewhat, you know, groomed.

Anyway, I drove away and 5 minutes later, got the following text:

you clean up good

Which would be a really nice thing to hear from most people. I mean, jeez, it’s a compliment, and that is lovely.

But, from him, after that, it just totally gave me the willies.

Why can’t the right guys send me texts like that, and the wrong guys just buzz off?!?!

Going out tonight, with grown-ups.  Woot!

2009 RRH inviteFirst up is an artists reception & preview of the “Ranches and Rolling Hills” event, which is a big annual art sale and fundraiser for the Marin Agricultural Land Trust, or MALT.

I am a supporter of MALT – believe strongly in the importance of open space and the value of preserving family farming and ranching, both for their intrinsic value and for what they mean to our food supply.  And also, as you know, I have a soft spot for cowboys and ranchers.

But I am not a big fancy supporter (as in, big $$).  Tonight’s très exclusif event is for the big fancy supporters.

So, you may ask, how is it that I scored an invitation?   Well, as best as I can tell, it’s because I’m going with the Cowboy.   (But, just so we are all clear, it is not a date.)

Anyhoodle, I will go, have a glass or three or wine, and gawk at art I can’t afford to buy, even if for a good cause.

Then, after the cultural part of the program, we will be dining with a group of MALT folks at the local steakhouse (on hormone-free, grass-fed, free-range beef, and organic local slow-food biodynamic sustainable green vegetables, no doubt).   Yummy.

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burning question - Danielle LaPorte

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