January 2006 Archives

Okay, this is going to be mildly confusing for a minute, so bear with me. You may remember that Mikey and I made a bet on Thanksgiving resulting in my winning four "dates." I agreed to blog about them to give him good PR before he goes public. I wrote about the first two dates in December, and then HRS ARK ROYAL became my boyfriend, so continuing to go on fake dates seemed sort of awkward. (You all know that HRS ARK ROYAL and mikey m. are the same person, right? That information should make this entry less confusing. Or maybe it won't. I'm not sure.) But I am bound by contractual agreement to blog about two more dates, so I'm going to cram them both into this one entry and then wash my hands of this whole mess. Phew! In the interest of continuity, I will refer to my date as Mike Merrill here, but will return to pseudonym usage in future posts. Okay. Here we go.

One week ago, Mike and I went on a very traditional "dinner and a movie" date. Mike planned it and kept the restaurant a surprise, which just made me melt. The number one thing I love? Surprises. Amendment: Pleasant Surprises. Mikey bet me dinner that I would not have heard of the restaurant, and he lost the bet. Taqueria Nueva is not a well kept secret- quite the contrary! It is a beloved NE restaurant- great for dinner before a movie at the Laurelhurst. I was surprised Mike would make such a futile bet, but he later admitted he just wanted an excuse to buy me dinner. Isn't that nice?

I had mousse for dessert, Mikey had tequila:

Then we went to the movies. We saw "Goodnight and Good Luck." It was really, really good. George Clooney, I swoon for thee. We shared a kiddie meal.

After that we went to a fancy place for cocktails, then back to Mike's for snuggles, etc. I will venture to say that this was a perfect date.

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A few nights later, we had our fourth and final date. We made dinner together at Mike's, followed by a much hyped viewing of the classic romance, "40 Year Old Virgin." Dinner was wonderful, movie was decent, date was cool. This is what we ate:

I think the moral of the story is this:
Fake dates always turn into real dates, eventually.

Remember that, young lovers.

Today I brought in a recording of Dr King's "I Have a Dream" speech- well, the last five minutes of it anyway. I just wanted to have it on hand in case the other teachers needed it, but I ended up teaching a 40 minute lesson twice, to both 1st grade classes. It went really well. First we met in a circle and shared what we knew about Dr. King- who he was, when he lived, why he is famous. We've been reading books about him, so this was just sort of review (and much needed, as one boy declared that Dr. King had ended slavery!) Then we talked about his famous speech- we looked at a photo of the event and marveled at all of the people in attendance. I told them about how he put down his notes and spoke from his heart, and how even now, many years later, his words continue to touch our hearts. Finally, I had them spread out around the room and lie down and close their eyes. I played them the excerpt, and both groups were enraptured for the full 5 minutes (a long time for 6 year olds!) They were silent and still, and afterwards they all agreed they'd gotten goose-bumps. We met again in our circle and talked about the pictures that grew in our minds as we listened- what we imagined. Then I gave them nice paper and they drew those images. It was like the classroom was bewitched. The kids worked really hard on their illustrations, and I felt so proud of them.

...you know me and how high I can be."

Well, I guess it was inevitable that I would eventually crash after the sort of feverish excitement that permeated the month surrounding the New Year. There was so much to be excited about- killer Colorado trip with toasts and Flobots and Buntports and snowball fights in Silver Plume. And then back in Portland there were fake parties and very resolved resolutions and crushes realized and reciprocated. I was feeling pumped, pumped, pumped on 2006 and all the promise it held. And I still am, truly. But even the purplest balloon heads back to earth with either a pop or a sigh, and now I am that balloon. And I sort of popped.

"You don't know yourself til you're low."
The litany of everyday grievances that I blithely ignored in my elation have become impatient for my attention, seeking it with a shove and a stomp. The usual woes- dismal finances; dearly wanting but being unable to afford a little apartment of my own; feeling let down by/left out of friendships; recognizing the long, unbroken stretch of school and work laid out in front of me; rain; rain; rain. It's not so bad, I know. I have one million blessings stitched together like a second skin around me, and I feel lucky, lucky. But also sad, today.

I have a frustrating combination of acute intuition and extreme sensitivity to other people's impressions of me, which often leaves me feeling punched in the gut. It's hard to know when I'm being perceptive and when I'm being paranoid, but the result is hurt feelings that cannot always be justified or explained. As I've grown up, I've grown out of a lot of my emo-ness. But this particular trait is dogged and mean, and I can't really seem to shake it. It makes me mad at myself for succumbing, and for needing more than my fair share of reassurance from my friends and family. Why can't I let this stuff go? Why, when I hear about or sense bad vibes, do I let them in so deep? Why can't I just let them go by, like that Leonard Cohen song, "If I, if I have been unkind, I hope that you can just let it go by" ? I got overwhelmed by it in the college library today and started crying, and I ichatted to my friend that I felt like an undergrad! I do not want to be emotionally 18!! Blegh.

My plan is to hunker down until this darkness passes. I've taken two naps in two days, and tonight I will go to the movies by myself and eat popcorn. Then later maybe some snuggles and magazine reading in bed, and hopefully I'll be back in ship-shape soon. HRS ARK ROYAL has exhibited a fine combination of teasing and gentleness in the face of my funk, and for that I am thankful. I feel guilty that this side of me is revealing itself so early in our relationship, but what can I do? I'm sort of a messy person.

Sorry this is not as exciting a topic as public urination, though I truly appreciate the flood of responses to that post! HRS ARK ROYAL and I have come to a tentative agreement that public urination is gross, but sometimes necessary. A compromise.

Well, HRS ARK ROYAL and I had our first fight on Saturday night. It's funny, because Saturday morning we idly wondered what our first fight would be about, and then THAT VERY EVENING we found out. Spooky, right? It turns out that when HRS ARK ROYAL is 2 hours late picking me up without checking in, we have a fight. Huh. The awkward part is that when he finally did collect me (in all of my justified haughtiness), our friends Freddy and Josh were in the car also, which meant that they then witnessed our fight. Yikes! Luckily HRS ARK ROYAL charmed me out of my fury relatively quickly, and a festive atmosphere returned. (Lots of whispered "I'm sorry's" and little kisses helped a lot.)

But then, the very next night, we had ANOTHER fight!! And it was AGAIN witnessed by Freddy and Josh! This time I was in the dog house, and HRS ARK ROYAL wasn't as much mad as disgusted. See, it came out that when living in New York, I would (very very) occasionally, uh, pee on the street. Like after a party and a long subway ride! Very justifiable, I think. Very gross, according to the SEA PRINCE, even though he admitted to peeing on the side of the road in Alaska. Apparently there is a difference between publicly urinating in New York City and po-dunk Alaska. Whatever. He asked me if I didn't think it was gross to see a dude peeing downtown late at night. And while I agree that it is gross to see a DUDE peeing, it's FUNNY to see a LADY peeing!

I think we had to call that second fight a draw. But I'd love some input here. Late-night public peeing when you are far from your apartment and there is no bathroom in sight- gross or justified? Come on. I know you've done it too.

I've already blogged my driving resolution to death (and once my driving log template is complete I will add it to my sidebar and it can be blogged into the afterlife) but I also made a few other environmental resolutions this year.
* I'm not allowed to use paper cups anymore. If I don't have an insulated mug with me, I have to either drink my beverage at the coffee shop or go without. Tough titties.

* Ditto for canvas bags when I go shopping. If I don't have one with me I have to carry my groceries in my arms or put them in my purse. This is only when I am shopping by myself. I won't impose my weird rule on my friends. (On a side-note, my favorite Kyoto-oriented law in Ireland was the plastic bag tax. If you needed a bag at ANY store in Ireland, you had to bring your own or pay a 5 cent tax. So simple, and yet EVERYONE used canvas bags, or their purses or hands. I got such a kick out of seeing big tough dudes walking down the street carrying a carton of milk and some grapes.)

* Stop using paper towels in public bathrooms. I am actually shaky on the sterility of this choice, and I'd love to be educated. But I feel like the shake vigorously/wipe hands on pants approach is sufficient and doesn't waste paper. Is this gross? Please let me know. This has, strangely, been the hardest resolution to keep so far.

* Cook at home more. Okay, this isn't exactly an environmental goal as much as a financial one, but it does have a relationship. When I cook myself I use mostly local, organic produce. Most restaurants don't. So eating in has a positive environmental impact. And if I eat out less, I can afford to go to nicer places that DO use local, organic stuff.

That's pretty much it. 2006 is the year for weird/silly environmental goals for me, I guess. I know I'd be making a much bigger impact if I stopped driving altogether, composted regularly, had a vegetable garden, did more activist work, gave more money to sweet non-profits, etc, etc, etc. Maybe that will happen in 2007. Baby steps, you know?

In addition to not being ready to be married, I am also not ready to have babies. I love the children. I am a teacher and I live happily with twin almost-four year old boys. I adore every baby I see, and I have a Seymour Glass-esque obsession with their little feet. But goddamn. I'm glad I don't have any of my own! It is HARD being a parent! You have to get up early, even on weekends, and you have to eat meals at normal times. If you have a hangover, you still have to be a parent anyway. If you have a toddler or a baby you have to put those obnoxious plastic things on every fucking drawer below waist level. And you find cheerios EVERYWHERE! You have very little time to read the New Yorker, and you always have to have quiet sex.

I just don't want that kind of responsibility right now! I don't even want to babysit anymore! A very nice, very wealthy family at my school asked me to come to their daughter's birthday party, and offered to pay me, but I had to say no. Because babysitting sucks! I love my little dudes here at my house, and I try to spend a lot of time with them. But when their parents ask me to watch them for a couple of hours I get a little panicy. I'm not scared at all. I've been babysitting since I was twelve years old. I just don't want to do it! And I LOVE these boys! They are like my own nephews! They call me Aunt Gorgeous! They fall asleep in my bed when I read them stories! But I don't want to be in charge of them. It's weird. I used to babysit them a couple of times a week, but now it's only once or twice a month. I feel really guilty and baffled by my own resistance. I can only attribute it to my stalled biological clock.

I think teaching may be the best form of birth control. You can love and advise and joke your students to death, and then you get to give them back. No making dinner, no bedtime battles. You can head straight to the bar or your friend's house. And if you smell like spit-up, it's almost definitely your own.

On Sunday HRS ARK ROYAL and I went to brunch at Besaw. We walked there, and it was pretty rainy and blowy, and I was dressed pretty grungy anyway, thanks to Adam Forkner and the awesome bright pink shirt he gave me the day before, so by the time we arrived I was sort of a mess. HRS ARK ROYAL is a fancy-pants, so he looked real nice, of course. I think we already made a sort of funny looking couple. We sat at the counter, side by side, and ordered our breakfast. As you know, HRS ARK ROYAL is participating in a dietary challenge, wherein he eats exclusively dainty, pretty foods. Thus he ordered toast, a boiled egg, and a small yogurt. I myself ordered a big ol' plate of pancakes. And coffee. And a mimosa. When the waiter brought out our food, he understandably hesitated before placing the meals in front of their respective devourers. Like he needed to take a few seconds to think the words, "what the fuck?" I think gender stereotypes were effectively blasted when I picked up the check afterwards. Dainty, fancy man; grungy, lumberjack lady. MFEO. Or pretty funny, anyway.

Dinner with Darcy and her friend last night was really nice. We went to Typhoon, which is so delicious, and just got caught up on all our business. Darcy is married, and her friend Amanda is engaged. It seems like all of my friends are headed down that path these days. I know I've written about this many times, but it is still so strange to me that my life is really different from theirs in this one specific way. I still feel like I am 15 when it comes to dating! A 15 year old is too young to get married and buy a house! I guess I don't actually feel that immature, just sort of not ready to be a real grown up. Whatever that means.

Oh, hey, here is the link to my transportation blog entry I wrote. A real live city councilman commented on it! Maybe I'm an adult after all!

HRS ARK ROYAL is in San Fransisco right now. This is what I have to say to that fair city:
STOP STEALING MY FUCKING BOYFRIENDS, YOU FOGGY ASSHOLE!!

That is all.

Last night Freddy had HRS ARK ROYAL and I over for dinner. We got to talking about resolutions and goal-setting, and Freddy brought up the niceness of having your friends sort of hold you accountable to your goals. Not like they nag you about going to the gym or something. More like they pump you up to keep going when you start to feel uncertain. Like, I'm trying to drive less in the New Year. More specifically, I am trying to not drive at all at least one day a week. I wrote a post about this for a transportation blog at Freddy's request, and when it goes up I'll post a link. I set this goal last year as well, and failed miserably. This year I'm feeling more confident, and the main reason is that this year my friends are in on it. They know that it's important to me, and they help with logistics. Steve just got a car over break, and he's doing a lot of the social driving now, which is cool. And HRS ARK ROYAL is very good at helping me consolidate errands and thus driving time. I might not be drive-free yet, but I am definitely driving a lot less. Friends helping you. Nice.

It works other ways too! HRS ARK ROYAL is doing his 3m30lb challenge, and all of his friends are being so rad about it. Last night at dinner Freddy offered to remove the serving dishes from the table, in case they were tempting him to eat more than the meager portion on his plate. And he gets lots of supportive comments on his blog and flickr set. Another friend has started doing fitness walks in this new year. He told me about a rainy day when walking didn't seem like fun at all, but he emailed a friend who responded with love and encouragement, and he went ahead and took the walk and felt real good about it.

It's such a perfect heart ideal. Just being really open about what you are trying to do, no matter what the scale, and letting friends help you. And of course the reverse is true! I want to give so much love to my goal-setting friends. Because you know what they say about many hands. They make light work.

And speaking of friends, in a little less than an hour I am going to meet up with my friend Darcy, who I haven't seen in almost 10 years. We were dear friends in 9th grade, then I switched schools and we grew apart. But I always wondered about her, and I blogged about her a few months ago, hoping she would google herself and find me, and she did! And she's in town and we are getting together and it is going to be rad!

2006 is shaping up to be the best year ever.

My new ERF (Exclusive Relationship Friend, as his brother has titled it) who will heretofore be referred to as HMS ARK ROYAL, is participating in a bizarre food consumption challenge, in which he is racing against a coworker to lose 30 pounds in 3 months. Or rather, HRS ARK ROYAL is losing, coworker is gaining. 30. They are documenting their gains/losses for our viewing pleasure. While I am highly amused by this endeavor, I am also (jokingly) concerned! I have spent the bulk of my adult life dating tall, skinny, boney boys with glasses and too-short sleeves on their frayed western shirts. (These boys are semi-employed, semi-drunk, semi-angsty, but to their credit, generally talented at something.) I am finally ERing a man who is able physically lift me, whose shoulder doesn't hurt my face with it's bones when I lay my cheek there, and what happens? He starts eating celery for dinner!! He literally ATE CELERY FOR DINNER TONIGHT!!! And he is talking about fitness now, too! What am I going to do? It's only a matter of time before he wastes away to nearly nothing and I will be forced to carry him around in my purse.

Egad! Will my Indie Rock past continue to haunt me for all of my days? Hey, Universe! That's not my TYPE anymore! Stop trying to stick me with the skinnies!!

At this rate I'll have to swap HRS ARK ROYAL out for his coworker by March. If I'm lucky he'll keep on gaining. I'm with Rebecca. I want a polar bear boyfriend.

After a very satisfying New Year's kiss (okay, continuing series of kisses), I offer you budding lovers the following advice:

STOP PLAYING IT COOL!!!

Yes, it is good to scout things out, be mellow, get to know a person better, consider obstacles, etc., etc. However. There comes a time when you must be ready. Ready to be rejected, ready to look like an asshole, ready for awkwardness, ready to endure teasing from friends, ready to embrace uncertainties. There comes a time for risk, a time for confession. Friends, after a many monthed preamble, my time came. I will not linger over details here, but I will say that I STOPPED PLAYING IT COOL, and reaped great rewards. Very rewarding rewards. Oh my.

My crush is no longer my crush, but a different something now, and it is very nice. He is currently mulling over a pseudonym, though his identity is probably obvious to even the most casual reader. However, pseudonyms are fun. He has requested a ship name to be printed in all-caps. A sample entry might read: "I had the nicest real date with THE DAWN TREADER last night! We went to see Jaws at the drive-in! Boy, THE DAWN TREADER sure loves shark movies!!"

So that is it. STOP PLAYING IT COOL. And then report the rewards (/consequences).

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! 2006. It got off to a hell of a start.