brilliant

i can't sleep.

my mind races when i try.

perhaps it is the close of the new year.

currently i feel lost.

but strangely hopeful. i know that it will get brighter.

next year will be brilliant and lovely.

like this:



i just know it.

wrinkle

should i be offended that my mother is sending me questionable asian beauty products?

aka, "eye click" sticky tabs, for me to create the illusion of eyelids.

you hear about parents who unconditionally love their kids and think they are beautiful regardless of flaws. i often wonder what that would be like.

over the years, my mom has also given me undereye circle patches, eyelash curlers, anti-wrinkle creams. and oh yes, once my dad bought me cellulite cream*.

hmmph.

*i was 13. and apalled. today i would be thankful.

glance

when you were looking at her, and she was looking at you,

did you know that her boyfriend was checking me out?

because he was.

but i didn't look back.

because i didn't care.

wicked

whenever i am on vacation, i like to get a manicure.

it is relaxing and indulgent at the same time.

this time, i got essie::wicked.

and i love it.

cackle.

boston

okay, so here is my deal.

the bf and i have a fabulous time together. i don't think i have ever met anyone so great, so compatible, and so...it for me.

and yet.

we have communication disconnects. usually it is because of a bigger problem and we are transferring emotions, but sometimes it makes me question how we get along at all.

my belief in his devotion doesn't waver frequently, but there are times when i wonder if he wants something else. or if i do.

don't get me wrong, we had a wonderful time in boston. we slept on the plane. we had coffee. we had a delicious seafood dinner at atlantic fish. loud sex. a fantastic sushi dinner at fugakyu. we laughed and rolled around in bed.

it was freezing in boston, a damp, windy cold that was hard to breathe in.

being together somehow made it more bearable.

this morning when he was figuring out flight times for our way home, he told me that my flight was at 6.....and his was at 7.

and for some reason, my heart sank.

not because he needed to get away, but because i thought that getting away meant getting away, not necessarily from me.

i was wrong, and that's okay, but it still kind of smarts.

flight

we are going to boston this morning.

holiday with the bf.

i have been down lately.

i hope just due to growing older against my wishes. not very graceful.

tomorrow will be brighter, but today i feel dark, dark, dark.

but i grin anyway, hoping to fool my soul into smiling.

it is kind of working, but only because i am looking forward to doing it with the bf tomorrow.

aftermas

i keep thinking that in the holiday spirit, someone will call my office with a found wallet.

but two days later i realize i am not going to see it again.

i am, surprisingly, keeping it together. with a sigh.

and today the bf didn't make his flight to amsterdam. he was in dire need of a getaway, without me. i don't think it was to get away from me, but who knows. i think he goes because he can, even if it means he has to go solo.

he didn't get his mini-vaca, and i am up at 3:26am wandering.

this morning was fun. we woke up, had lunch, and proceeded with our hour-long tradition of opening presents (usually accompanied by a picture before you open a present and a picture taken immediately after you open it). think you're going to rip something open without the moment captured? think again, chump.

xmas at our house means dressing up slightly for pictures on xmas day. it means starting out with one member of the family who stars as video and camera are both aimed and ready.

giving. [click] opening. [click] joy [click click]. next!

i was happy with my presents, but overjoyed with giving mine.

we played poker. we played mah-jong.

and the bf kept squeezing me and whispering "i love you."

a very lovely christmas, indeed.

grace on xmas eve

um, yesterday my wallet was stolen.

but today, today i turn 29.

and i am spending it in rochester with the bf and the fam.

i got my butterfly necklace, i called to cancel all my cards, and life is merry.

hope you and yours feel peace this holiday.

make me

warning::the following post might be too much information, even for those who know me.

don't say i didn't warn you.

one of the best things about the bf is that he likes to do it almost as much as i do. clearly, not as much (that would be stupid).

a long time without it is about 2.3 days for us, which is coincidentally the same length of time that we can go without getting into a fight. i wonder if those two things are related.

anyway, last night the bf played hockey. i watched. i use the term "watch" loosely because i had brought along reading material and finished it during the hour and a half long game. i looked up and tried to catch the bf in action and even spotted a couple of scores. of course when he asked how many goals he had, i enthustiatically said, "seven!"

when we got back to his house, we had tea and cinnamon rolls.

then i said, maybe we should go to bed.

the bf said, maybe we should do it.

you don't have to ask me twice.

i ran upstairs. let the sexing begin!

we were having the usual fantastic time (read: i was having an out-of-control o*) when he whispered, 'baby, you're going to make me..."

afterwards, i giggled.

he groggily lifted his head up.

"huh?"

i giggled again.

"what?"

"i just love the way you always announce yourself when you're nearing the end."

and he does. every single time. giggle.

*ooco = i just made that up.

a.m.

one of my favorite things is brunch.

not so much breakfast. that's too early. the bf and i are both not early risers unless we have to be.

but this morning i am craving eggs benedict, with a side of fruit.

that's all i want.

gifts

I don’t know if these are joke presents, but on Friday the bf gave me:

a pair of black lounge pants (supposedly so I won’t run around pantless in front of his roommates anymore)

a pair of dumbbells (because I am a dumb...bell)

a girlfriend’s tarot book

a pair of sneakers

a good luck pig figurine

...and a bag of chips.

seriously.

i love the bf. i don't always get him, but i love him.

spring

the scene: easter brainstorm, at work.

cast of characters: all the vips of the agency, designers, project managers, account service, and me.

brainstorm ringleader: is there anything that hates easter like the grinch hates christmas?

silence.

[crickets]

me: (in a loud, yet childlike voice believing she has stumbled upon a golden nugget) beavers!

cast: pure uproar::howling, giggling, snickering, guffawing::wild and unrestrained.

me: (indignant yet amused) what? i'll prove it!

narrator: but the damage had already been done. aside from learning that not every idea can be a good idea in a brainstorm, sophie has reluctantly earned the title of angry beaver. this was not the professional mark she had been intending to make.

me: (blink, blink)

and today this arrived:



i will never, ever live this down. sigh.

armniversary

one year ago today i broke my arm.

i thought i would post the email i sent out four days later:

-----Original Message-----
From: Sophie
Sent: Monday, December 19, 2005 7:29 PM
Subject: my arm

hi all,

okay. i'm sorry i wasn't clear in my previous email. i fell on ice and broke my humorous bone (i know, i know, it isn't funny) last thursday. and yes, i was wearing heels, and yes, i just did the running man for the poker girls in the window of the sunny-side up cafe.

that's what i get for showing off!

anyway, i've been wearing a slint (?) that weighs more than i do and trying to keep my food down. percocet makes me naseous and sleepy and slightly more cranky than usual.

thank you to the bf, m, s, m, and p for coming to the er with me. thanks e and k for stopping by. thank you j for the fresca and paperbacks offer. thanks s for the biscotti -- now my mom wants me to learn how to make them. :)

thank you everyone for the calls and emails and thoughts. smooch.

i'm going to the doctor on wednesday am to see if maybe i can get this person off my arm -- i'll let you know what happens.

feel free to stop by with dirty movies and twizzlers! hee-hee.

xoxo,
sophie

------------------------

it is wonderful to have full of use of both arms, even though one is slightly shorter than the other.

here's to the brace, the bandages, the blisters, the bf, and my black cardigan sweater.

classic bf

the bf was in pain.

i asked what was wrong.

back pain.

flashback to the last time he threw his back out: i drove to his house, picked him up, and brought him back to my apartment to work his back and nurse him. [if by "nurse" you mean...] in the morning i drove him to his house before work.

and we weren't even dating.

now:

me: baby, what happened? how did you throw your back out?

the bf: i sneezed.

it's hard to know what to say.

unfiltered

i know, i know.

my post last night was lazy. but i was working and working and i thought, you know what? i am going to get my eyebrows waxed, and then i am going to get my drink on with e. so there.

i said, screw the public! all ten of you!

but now i'm back (to let you know, i can really shake 'em down).

please love me again.

love me like the bf did this morning, okay? oh what, like two healthy adults can't have consenting (fiery, albeit fleeting) sex first thing in the morning? breakfast of champions, that's what i say.

victory lap!

i could be sustained purely on my sexual appetite.

and sweet potato fries.

omg -- did i just say all that?

no!

dear all,

you wanna piece of me?

YOU WANNA PIECE OF ME?

stupid chickens

per my sensitivity with the bf as of late, i am tempted to read books to gain insight:

*

i don't know what's wrong with me. i jump all over everything he says, and i know it's not his fault. it is, as it usually is, mine.

maybe it is slightly more difficult to date asian women because we are slightly crazier than the average female. but i doubt it.

flash: last night the bf held me down and tickled me for a good twenty minutes. i laughed so hard i cried. he was trying to get me to say that his chickens (legs) were strong. in between breaths, i gasped, "your.....chickens......are.....st........upid!"

perhaps we are both crazy, and that is why we work.

*the bf is not, has not been, and will never be, an asian. he just wishes.

all i want

i know that a gift registry for oneself is not a socially acceptable practice yet, but since i am light years ahead of everyone else on so many other fronts, i thought i would blast my wish list out there today. you'll get to know me a bit better. and isn't that what everyone wants?

plus, the only big news i have for today is that i have already had 11 gourmet chocolated malted milk balls.

in addition to the yoga bag, planner, hat, ring, and car scraper i have already requested (read: i assume those are already wrapped):

the color is fantastic:


my flick of the year:


tiffany. tiffany. tiffany:


filthy and gorgeous, just like me:


a photo printer. all i know is that i want it to be small and cute:



black bangle:



drool. happy holidays.

beat

some advice i received:

"never be with someone and think you're going to (1) love him right or (2) change him in any way."

it's true.

and we learn it the hard way.

in light of recent conversations with gfs, i feel like many are trapped in relationships. trying to love him until he responds or waiting until he grows out of who he is now into something better.

and darlings, sometimes love isn't enough.

know when to stay. but more importantly, know when to leave.

always easier said. especially this coming from someone who stayed two years too long in a relationship with the wrong guy that was going nowhere (both the guy and the relationship). we all have our illusions, and i held on to mine.

and when you do let go, you will be free and hopeful. a day will come when you will love and just love. your heart will thank you.

please note: the above is a general statement and is not specifically applicable to the bf and our relationship. any resemblances to actual persons, ex-boyfriends and otherwise, or places are overt and intentional.

bah

in an effort to dispel the belief that i need the bf in any way, i decided that because of this, i would be doing holiday cards solo this year.

and so, i spent a saturday night writing out 50 cards.

lessons:
1. smaller card = less writing = less b.s. for everyone
2. writing on a bed = cramped legs = sleepy legs = pain [ow. ow. ow. adjust]
3. writing out 50 cards alone = being stubborn = unnecessary stupidity (now who feels stupid?)

so there. now who feels stupid.

me. just me.

sometimes i wonder when i'll grow out of making a point without anyone caring.

fine.

one day

four years ago, the bf and i met on december 6, 2002.

he walked into banana republic with his "friend", b.

my first thought was, how cute. an adorable gay couple shopping for holiday presents together.

as conversation progressed, i found myself matching every comment with a comeback.

i went to the back room to check on a size, and asked one of my uncloseted friends if he would do me a favor: 'there are two guys out there, and i'm fairly positive they do not play on my team. if i didn't know better, i would think they were hitting on me!'

he went out and came back quickly. the verdict? 'one of them might be, but the other definitely is.'

at the cashwrap, the bf asked if they could take me out for coffee on my break. i told him that wasn't necessary. he asked for my number. i told him that i don't give out my number. he asked me to wait outside the shop for them.

i sat on a bench just outside banana republic.

b came outside and, after a moment, asked me for my phone number. don't these guys talk to each other? i gave him the same line.

they bought me a hot tea. and kept asking for my phone number. i kept politely declining, insisting that i take their phone numbers.

finally i scored their numbers, never intending to use them. i gave them my business card. later i found out that they had not intended to use those, either.

a week later, i decided to call. both of them. i called definitely first.

who would've thought that four years later definitely would be the bf?

kissing

on the anniversary of the day the bf and i met at the banana republic at the mall of america, i thought it would be appropriate to tally the top all-time kisses with the bf:

1. january 03. our first kiss. nervous and exciting. illicit and dangerous. wrong and right colliding. shivers and goosebumps. it was the kind that ended in a backbend.

2. december 05. after he said, 'if you are going to break up with me, do it now. it's too late for me, soph.' my head spun. when he asked, 'are you going to let me love you?' i completely lost it.

3. valentine's day, 06. we had been fighting for quite a while. i had been crying, bawling, screaming at my friends to help me understand who he was and how we got here. just wanted to stop everything because everything i knew was upside down. he talked me into talking things over at his house. when i got there i sat in my car for a long time with my eyes closed. i walked up the path and saw him sitting on his front steps. we talked a bit. hoarse whispers. we went up to his room. we talked more. we tried to discuss, to make things better, to somehow get past the mess we had not intended to make. we looked at each other, our raw eyes pleading.

...i leaned over and kissed him. and that was it.

three

my lucky number is::3::nice things that happened to me:

1. j poked my side this morning and said, 'i think you are losing weight!' i laughed and said it was because i am too busy to eat.

2. k said that i would look very pretty with some bright red lipstick. i said i have some bright red lipstick. m, a guy, said, 'she already is pretty.'

3. a friend of mine who i was convinced was boycotting me stopped by today, and we went out for lunch. during, he said, 'it's always your show.'

grin.

just the way, uh huh uh huh, i like it.

puppy

we were on our way to a party, and it was snowing.

lightly, whitely...

we had been spending time together, mainly because of our advanced placement english class. we had taken the role of the monk in canterbury tales, acting it out and somehow ending it with my tap dancing moves.

one night laid head-to-head and talked. really talked.

i liked to bug him about liking a taken girl. he had followed her around like a puppy for a whole semester, seemingly oblivious to the whispers and her boyfriend's tolerance.

you love her, i would tease.

except one day when he changed.

he said he liked someone else.

oh?

...and on our way to the party, after we climbed out of his mother's blue honda civic hatchback, we paused and looked at each other. he saw me with a combination of the awe and innocence and youth that comes with first love. he didn't even touch me. he could hardly speak.

softly i heard: "you're glowing."

and every year when the snow comes, i remember that someone once told me that i glowed.

catch

the bf has a speck by the green pupil on his right eye.

it is small and brown.

it is not obvious or unattractive.

it is not a flaw or imperfection or a mistake.

it is one of his unique spots, one not everyone gets close enough to see.

and it is one of the parts about him that i love the most.

not the face!

the green bullet might be trying to off me.

i ran out to my car on tuesday night, rushing, as usual, to get to the bf's house. i was late. i am always late. i have good intentions to be early but i know i can't survive off those forever.

in my arms i had the following items:
1. purse
2. holiday hostess gift of chocolate truffle almonds
3. change of clothes
4. car keys

i inhaled sharply, preparing for the sprint to my car on lyndale. it is always a sprint. lyndale avenue is a very busy street, and given the two lanes of traffic plus one lane for parking, most mornings i end up sliding in through the passenger door.

this evening, however, i spotted my opening. i ran out to the driver's side and pulled the door open a wee, keenly aware of the impending green light and release of traffic flowing my way shortly thereafter. i almost dropped the fragile hostess gift, and as i struggled to kept it in my grasp, a push of wind from cars streaming by me forced my car door to close on my hunched body, slamming my forehead into the frame of the car. a metal sophie sandwich. i closed my eyes for a moment. the world turned black. and bright stars danced in my head.

i slumped into the driver's seat, willing the stars to fade.

as soon as i could, (what time was it? what year was it?) i pulled down the mirror to assess the damage.

...a fine looking dent in the forehead. wonderful. now my own car is out to get me.

squeeze

the bf and i talked about our relationship fears last night.

whispered, in the dark.

i asked him what he was afraid of. he told me. we discussed. i never know if talking about us is easy for him.

he asked me what i was afraid of.

i couldn't answer for a while.

i tossed and wiggled my feet around. i exhaled and shut my eyes tightly.

i found the words this time.

he answered, "i wouldn't worry about that."

and my tense heart relaxed.

how was i?

and then i found two hickeys on my neck.

mango

dried mangoes from manila are the best.

the bf, in an effort to bring me back something from his travels and get me to eat, brought me dried mango slices. phillipine carabao mangoes.

i am in love with them.

my mom and i both love dried fruit. she is a big fan of mango and plums, and i like mangoes and pineapples.

but i have never tasted any dried fruit as fantastic as these. they actually melt in my mouth. mmm. it's like i am having my own mango tasting party of one. where's the music? let's dance!

i have a 32 ounce bag of it, and i am already scheming ways to get more.

i am insanely meticulous about preserving the freshness of these mangoes, squeezing the excess air out of the bag before resealing.

are you kidding me? how did these get to be so delightful?

he's back!

the angels said it best:

he went away and you hung around
and bothered me every night
and when i wouldn't go out with you
you said things that weren't very nice.

my boyfriend's back and you're gonna be in trouble
(hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)
when you see him comin' you better cut out on the double
(hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)
you've been spreadin' lies that i was untrue
(hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)
so look out now 'cause he's comin' after you
(hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)

hey he knows what you've been tryin'
and he knows that you've been lyin'

he's been gone for such a long time
(hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)
now he's back and things will be fine
(hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)
you're gonna be sorry you were ever born
(hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)
'cause he's kinda big and he's awful strong
(hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)

hey, he knows i wasn't cheatin'
now you're gonna get a beatin'

what made you think he'd believe all your lies
(wah-ooo, wah-ooo)
you're a big man now but he'll cut you down to size
(wah-ooo)
wait and see

my boyfriend's back, he's gonna save my reputation
(hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)
if i were you, i'd take a permanent vacation
(hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back)

hey i can see him comin'
now you better start a-runnin'

(wah-ooo, wah-oo)
wait and see!

my boyfriend's back he's gonna save my reputation
(hey la, hey la my boyfriend's back)
yeah my boyfriend's back, well he's back now
my boyfriend's back
well I can see he's comin', so you better get a runnin' alright now

do over

here is an email to e:

"hope your day is going well!

mine sure is. :) except, well, i’ll tell you later. i think i might be going slightly crazy.

strike that! i am not crazy. not today.

how are you?

talk to me!!! i am going crazy.

blink blink."

yikes.

ack!

okay. i am not going to get crazy.

scene: lunch, firelake grill, downtown. four working gals.

me: the bf is in manila.
s: really? manila? you must trust your bf a lot!
me: why?
s: i heard it's crazy over there!
me: like, how crazy?
s: like, prostitution and stuff!
me: what are suggesting? my bf is a...patron?!

and no, i am not suggesting. i am not even entertaining the thought. but...i haven't heard from him in two days.

what am i supposed to think?!

thoughts

i read the modern love column late saturday night.

in the grip of nature's own form of birth control, in turn, gripped me.

as i read about a 38 year-old struggling to have a child, my emotions took over.

fright shook me, to the deepest part of me, until i realized i was holding my breath.

the tears came naturally.

it was little, actually, a mini-weep.

i am not 38, but circumstances have forced me to think about the fragility of my own clock, the one that i assumed ticked on my command.

when i am ready.

except my biggest fear is that i will not be able to have what i want, when i want, because i will not be able.

machine

so...i completely have sex on the brain.

all i wanna do...is do the bf.

i can't stop thinking about it. doesn't help that i can't tell him. i haven't heard from him in a good 24 hours now. ouch.

but you know what else is great? morning after breakfast. strike that. morning of breakfast. and guess what i stumbled across while internet shopping?

this:



oh happy day! i love breakfast sandwiches. i realize i don't need a machine to make one, but it sure seems like it would be easier with than without. i am fully convinced that i will be happier and more satisfied armed with this machine while poaching an egg, toasting an english muffin, and warming meat. at the same time. minor exertion and waiting five minutes for a perfect mc...sophie.

breakfast or me? both, thank you very much.

dream

the bf called today to tell me about a dream that he woke up with:

"we were at a pretty nice place having dinner...

[like arby's? or fuddruckers?]

and stranded was playing...

[awww]

and there were people around us...

[and then we did it?]

but we kept dancing...

[so we didn't do it?]

and the song never ended. we just kept dancing."

(not) me

tried to go xmas shopping today.

not in the mood for crowds, but since s was in uptown i decided to join her.

i ended up buying a pair of light grey and cream polka dotted gloves for a present.

another one down.

i passed on a hat for me and a pair of shoes for...me. i'm trying to focus on being the gift giver.

later, online, i found this:


and fell in love.

what do you say? one for you. one for me.

day after

happy day!

i don't know why, but i feel new.

i think the grog of the past week has lifted.

that, and hearing the bf's voice.

he keeps telling me he misses me.

and it feels wonderful.

even from far, far away, his voice reminds me of home.

waver?!

this past weekend we spent a lot of time at the chambers hotel.

i love it.

on friday night, we took our guests from nyc there for drinks after dinner.

and guess who i saw?

yes even! totally unexpected.

we talked, he asked how i was doing. blah blah small talk yada yada.

he asked me what i was doing for thanksgiving.

i gave him the same drill i gave everyone else: my parents are in asia. my bros will be with girlfriends. in short, i am a lonely orphan this thanksgiving. wah.

"so you're not doing anything for thanksgiving?"

i laughed, told him that i would be okay.

"you could always come to my sister's house."

screeeeech.

excuse me? bold move for someone i haven't talked to for more than five minutes. also bold move considering he gave me his phone number and i have never used it. triply bold for bringing me an iced tea and expecting me to spend thanksgiving with him. are you serious?

eep. i politely thanked him and proceeded to write him off, making a mental note not to recognize him if there ever was a next time.

except...he came back.

this time, with friend in tow, he asked me again if i would like to join him for thanksgiving. again, i said no thank you. firm, but gentle. don't. make. me. be. mean. to. you.

seriously.

gobble

happy thanksgiving.

i am deeply grateful for my friends and family.

okay. my mom bought me a box of chocolates because i broke down and told her about my flawed uterus and ovaries.

to my mom, food will remedy all problems, emotional and physical.

so i have a box of my favorite chocolates, which e and i enjoyed last night. along with a bottle of white wine. and lots of girltime. cherished girltime with one of my favorite girls.

baci chocolates. mmm. there is a love wish on every wrapper.

three times now, i have gotten the same one: "love lies hidden all around. all you need to do is find it."

written in several languages on parchment paper, my favorite is always the italian version: "la felicita e nascosta dappertutto, basta scovarla."

and as a believer in signs, i really think there is something to it.

love is everywhere. sometimes not so hidden. sometimes already found.

dammi tanti baci

sigh

if i could type out an exhale, that is what the title of this blog would be.

i need a breather. from everything.

sluggish indifference.

it's just. i think i want something different.

the bf went on holiday today.

where is he going? manila.

with whom? his friend, t.

when is he coming back? ____________

i don't know. i didn't ask the right question that would have led to the right answer for me to know.

i am so tired of pretending not to care with someone who doesn't care to tell me things.

just go. and when you return maybe i'll come back.

p.s.

sometimes i feel like we know little about each other.

other times, i feel like we've come a long way.

most of the time, we do not know more than we care to, and care too much about what we do know.

i feel at home with the kind of love we have, strangely content, my restless heart is rarely at peace.

because you know what? if this isn't it, at least i got here.

and if i have to start over? i will be okay.

you're old!

the bf turns 30 today.

reasons why dating a 30 year-old isn't so bad:

1. he has been out of college way longer than i have.
2. i can make fun of the hairs coming out of his ears.
3. his chicken legs certainly won't get any skinner.
4. people will think he is a creep for going out with someone 10 years younger
5. he still has the stamina of a 29 year-old.
6. soon his frail body will be powerless over my strong, young limbs.
7. he will be an inspiration to younger guys on how to get a hot gf.
8. i can still run my fingers through his unruly, un-30-like hair.
9. any massages and foot rubs i give will be more beneficial and probably include better rewards.
10. he will always be older and wiser, but inversely less fun, than me.

the bf wrote me an email today. his staff gave him a bottle of wine, a singing card, a box of crayons (64 with built in sharpener).

how could i possibly top that? hey! there are boxes with even more crayons than 64.

i am on it.

happy birthday, princess.

gotcha

the bf and i never went out of town.

for months, i have been planning a surprise dinner for his birthday.

we showed up at lucia's with minor hoopla.

the bf was supposed to run in and pick up a cake for s.

he went in the bakery door. no cake and no party.

he went in the main door. no cake and no party.

e had to send the host over to fetch him.

fifteen minutes later, i walked in and took a breath.

the restaurant is gorgeous, and the lighting is fantastic. the little kraft boxes, topped with an old b&w photo of the bf, filled with silver kisses and blue doves, wrapped in navy blue rafia, a little present on each guest's plate, made my evening. the food was fabulous, the conversation was lively, and the triple layer devil's food cake was the finale. sigh.

he said he was not surprised. but he was surprised at who came to celebrate. his family and some really good friends.

the toast i wanted to make:
"may you always be blessed with walls for the wind. a roof for the rain. a warm cup of tea by the fire. laughter to cheer you. those you love near you. and all that your heart might desire."

an appropriate blessing for the appropriately blessed.

bam

aargh. i have been putting up a good fight against this cold that has been creeping up on me for the past week and a half.

i am a fighter. at the first sign of shut down i take airborne. i am addicted to the stuff, and i believe in its magical 17 herbs and nutrients power. i try to go to bed early. i take it easy. feed a cold = i eat. drinking fluids, or as the bf would tell me, 'drink your juice.'

so. i will not let this take me down.

not today.

this weekend i am taking the bf out of town for a special you-are-getting-old birthday celebration. woo-hoo!

i.e. a festival of us doing it. or as i like to say, boinkfest.

but its hard to get in the mood when you're feeling under the weather.

never fear, my darlings. i will find a way to get laid this weekend. i knew you were worried.

murder attempt I

the bf and i like to try new places.

we get dressed up. we sit down and have a lovely dinner. we talk. we laugh. we hold hands.

and other times, we go to the drive-through at wendy's.

one time we were driving separately and decided to go through. don't ask.

he went first. ordered. paid.

then i went. ordered. paid.

when we got back to his house we found that we had both ordered the chicken tenders. click.

he also decided to surprise me.

sidebar: i am violently, violently lactose intolerant. how do i put this without coming off as hyperbolical? um, i will die if i so much as taste one infinitesimal drop of cream, ice cream, cream cheese, or milk.

so what did the bf surprise me with?

a chocolate frosty, of course.

blueberry

i chose me.

er, i mean, the bf.

i have decided to skip the holiday parties and go with my birthday on 12.15 and the bf's family xmas on 12.16.

here is my latest obsession:



is it not the most spectacular thing ever? except it is large. in charge large. the image doesn't even do it justice. the color of the patent (yes, patent leather) is blueberry, in the truest, most delicious color to hit my palate since lemongrass of spring 06.

all of this mouthwater for $49.99.

not sure if i can pull off the size [insert gratuitous bf comment here]. also not sure if i can get over the patent leather.

otherwise though, this bag will be mine.

scoop

here's the skinny:

12.15: my birthday party at jitters martini bar (it's a lovely basement joint full of gay boys and happy waitstaff and cute bartenders and yummy key lime martinis). plus, i have had my birthday party there for the past six years (since i was 19). it's a fricking tradition.

12.16: to duluth for the bf's family christmas celebration.

up until yesterday, the weekend seemed like it was going to be a fabulous one. why not? i love celebrating my birthday almost one month in advance, and i love parties, especially when they are in my honor!

yesterday at work they told us that the agency holiday party would also be on 12.16. on top of that, the shop is going to have a holiday celebration on (wait for it...) 12.16.

so now i have to choose?

whatever shall i do? wherever shall i go?

classic bf

when the bf and i were still only reaping the benefits of our non-friendship, we had a date.

after years* of living out "why booty calls should never date," after countless stand-ups and reschedules and general call me only when you want to make out!s, we finally had a date set.

i asked him where we were going. he said, tejas.

ooh. somewhat impressed.

the bf said, "i had them hold a table for us. there are a couple of places in town i can just call up and have them save a table for me."

eye roll. hey tough guy, isn't that true for any place in town?

and there you have it, certainly not the last line the bf has fed me.

*you wish that was a typo. we're talking 2002 to 2005, honey.

the hunt

ahhhhhhhhhh.

sums up exactly how i feel. three days of doing absolutely nothing, letting my mind drift to neutral.

thursday morning we spent getting me ready for hunting. groooowwwwwl.

a tank top, a long sleeved t-shirt, a vest with a hood, a black coat with a fur-trimmed hood, a blaze orange sweatshirt with a hood, two pairs of socks, heavy boots, a scarf, a wool hat and mittens later, i was finally ready (read: really nervous).

50% of the material wasn't mine.

we drove and parked. got out of the car. trees everywhere. we started walking.

the bf motioned for me to come along, but i stayed about 10 paces behind him, just in case.

the hardest part about hunting isn't braving the cold. it is the hours and hours of forced silence.

i started to enjoy our "hunt." it seemed to me more like a leisurely amble along railroad tracks. i stopped and played with some rocks. i tried hard to look for deer, but neither my short attention span nor my fear of actually seeing the bf shoot something let up enough to try that hard.

the bf would turn around every couple of minutes and wave his arm in a "let's go" motion, and i would do something dumb like mimic godzilla trampling everything in my wake. arrrrrrgh.

then the bf stopped.

he whispered, "we're going to wait here until it gets dark."

"no!" i whispered loudly.

i hate nature in the dark. the trees are menacing and my mighty imagination drives me crazy.

but the bf would have none of it. so we waited.

it turned dark quickly, to my relief.

we started the walk back to the car. once inside, i said, "that was fun!"

because, surprisingly, it was.

i yapped happily the whole way home.

stress

so, i am leaving for duluth tonight.

i had to get up early and haul ass home to pack and get ready for work.

i noticed the 'no parking' signs on lyndale and realized that i would not be able to park outside the house.

perfect.

i had to park perpendicular to our garage door, blocking all cars parked in the garage.

i ran inside and told k that i would need to move my car before she could leave for work.

she said, "i usually leave around 7:30"

when she got out of the bathroom i asked her if i had time to shower, or if we should move the cars then.

she said i had twenty minutes.

i ran to the bathroom, jumped in the shower, and didn't spend my usual 20+ minutes dallying and counting backwards from a predetermined number to prolong my shower (tangent: i love showers).

when i towelled off, i ran to my room for my car keys. i looked at the clock: a couple minutes past 7:30. shoot.

i couldn't find my car keys. panic started to set in.

and then i heard m coming up the stairs: "soph, here are your car keys."

excuse me?

"k leaves at 7:30."

i glance at the clock: "what?"

"soph, it's 7:32!"

and that has pretty much set the tone for my day. grimace.

bu(n)ck.

here is the skinny:

the bf is taking me hunting in duluth this weekend.

i am a little frightened by the idea.

last night he asked me if i had long johns or thermal underwear. i noticeably widened my eyes.

he told me that my mission for tonight would be to put together a warm outfit for hunting.

and my eyes. got a little. larger.

how warm?

i do not have mittens or long johns. i do not have a jeans that i can wear thermal underwear with. i do not have warm boots. i do not have clothing that is conducive to multiple layerings.

he told me that i will need to dress as if i was going skiing.

um? this is me skiing: white puffer vest with turtleneck. tights under jeans. cute little gloves. a pink hat. fun scarf.

the same outfit just doesn't seem to cut it as hunting gear.

sigh. i will definitely keep you posted on whether or not the bf shoots anything, as he will not give me a firearm even though we are going hunting together.

dress like a hunter. freeze like a hunter. stand by and cheer your bf on like a chump masquerading as a hunter. can't wait.

moon

full moon in taurus last night.

i had to work at the shop. the bf didn't get back until 6pm.

i went over to his house with abnormally high expectations, given the full moon and how tired we both were.

we tried to watch march of the penguins. got sleepy.

i wanted to stay up and joke around and laugh.

he wanted to sleep.

after several attempts, i pouted, which lead to: "sometimes i don't think you care about what i want."

gasp. ouch.

it hurts mostly because i think he really believes it is so.

how much i care is in my head, looking for a way out, and i assume he just knows. but like most things between us, it lies under the surface and isn't easily said. we think we're both on the same page, but because we don't say it we don't really know. i try to find the words but i lose them.

sometimes, the only thing that matters to me is what he wants.

our city

my reader told me: "he will always smell good to you."

the he she was referring to was the bf.

and she was right.

the bf leaves for vegas this morning. he is visiting his uncle in the hospital, and his cousin who is newly separated.

this morning when he got up to get ready, i didn't want him to go.

i cried when he left.

and i cried myself back to sleep while my face was on his pillow, breathing him in.

he does always smell good to me, and when i see him, i bury my face in the soft spot on his collarbone, right above his chest, and inhale. past the layers of soap and cologne, his real scent is there, and it is natural to me. it is a combination of his home, his fabrics, his soft, easy-going ways.

he just smells like home.

snickers

before halloween, we had snickers at work.

fun size.

i took one for the bf.

i gave it to him last thursday, right before hockey. with an appreciative glance and cursory thanks, he said he would have it after the game.

except we forgot.

the next day, to my delight, i found the snickers in my purse. I ate it.

i sent him a text message: i ate your snickers.

last night, i gave the bf a make-up snickers.

fun size.

he put it on the kitchen counter, saved for an after dinner treat.

n walked into the kitchen. spied the snickers. "is this yours?" i said, "you want it?" he said, "yes."

i let him take it.

i told the bf what happened, how i didn't think it was a big deal. ouch. sorry, didn't know it meant so much to you. told him i would get him another snickers. so. not. the point.

i looked at my watch. 830p. i said i had to go to my car to grab something. as soon as i cleared the side door i ran my little yellow jacket up to the gas station. huffing and puffing, i grabbed a snickers. "you sound like you've been running!" from the attendant.

as i ran back, i saw the bf's silhouette in the window. arms crossed. i entered the house, proudly presented the snickers, full-size, thank you very much.

"that's not going to make up for it," says the bf.

fun size, indeed.

huh

the results are in:

cyst on my right ovary.
polyp or fibroid on my lower uterus

in doctor speak, that is not too worrisome.

perfect.

well buck up, plucky duck. you've got some positive thinking to do.

30

whatever the f.

per my previous post, i couldn't bear to have the last post of the month end with 29, so i had to think of something else to write about.

i got it!

how about, when you get an ultrasound on wednesday, 10.25, and your doctor calls you on 10.27 eod and leaves a vm that your results are in: not too worrisome, but we should talk about it, and have a nice weekend! of course you worry all weekend about it. you call back at 8am on the dot on 10.30 and leave a message. at 10.30 eod you give it one last try and when you hang up to no answer you see that a vm has just popped on your screen. and that message is from the doctor so you just crossed signals and missed her call because you were busy trying to reach your doctor as she was inconveniently trying to reach you. so you wait with bated breath until 10.31 and again call your doctor at 8am and leave yet another message to call you back at the end of the day. and it is 10.31, way past eod, and you realize she will not be calling today and tomorrow you get to start this unhappy cycle all over again.

my life is sweet, isn't it? it's just the tops!

ert

i am not in the mood today.

some days, i write two posts. today, i can barely eke out one.

here is my rant of the day:

i have the last week in december off. completely off. if you knew me, you would know that this is a rare, wonderfully rare, event.

i am ecstatic about it.

i constantly think about how great it will be: no work for one whole week. zero. none. nada. zilch. i will be chumpless for one week at the end of a very. long. year.

i will be turning the ripe age of 29 this year. i will not grow old gracefully. i will kick and scream into the last year of my twenties.

i love the holiday season. i love the christmas spirit. i love holiday cards. i love giving presents. i love fireplaces. i love the smell of cinammon in the wintertime.

and when i ask the bf if we will be spending the last week of the year together? hold your breath.

i get the feeling that there are plans. great plans. fabulous, magical plans. why wouldn't there be? it is a fantastic time of year! hang out with loved ones! laugh and spend time together! love and cuddle!

except i really don't think the bf's plans include me.

deal or no deal

the value of my dowry has increased.

my parents took me to a bmw dealership on saturday afternoon.

we sat with dylan the car dealer, and talked shop.

when dylan stepped away for a moment, i turned to my mom and asked, 'why are we still here?'

my mom said, 'we want to get you a car.'

wha...

and then she said (wait for it...):'actually, we were thinking that when you get married we will give you a car as a wedding gift.'

what?!

did that just happen? have my parents finally given me an ultimatum? get married or no car?! how is this possible? what planet are we on?

do my parents think that a car is the only thing that will get me to the altar? how well do they know their only daughter? who do they think they are? i cannot be bought! i do not have a price!

er.... i think i'll hold out for a house.

boo

i decided to forgo the conceptual costume and go simple this year.

last year i was fergie from the black-eyed peas, during her scandalous "wet crotch" stage performance. special was going to be tara reid and her infamous strap dropping boob debacle, and e was going to be janet jackson and the mother of all wardrobe malfunctions. together we would be a rocking trio of celebrity embarassments.

except.

2005 halloween quote: "nobody gets what i am! my crotch is wet and i am uncomfortable! next year i am going to be a f*cking bee!"

and so, this year, i am a bee. damn it.

well, was a bee. on saturday night britney spears and i trolled the downtown streets in search of a gorilla and three mouseketeers. we found them at harvey's and danced until a troupe of slutty baseball players threatened our spot on the floor and one of the mouseketeers "accidentally" spilled beer on them. the night pretty much ended when the same mouseketeer wound up and punched the gorilla in the balls.

britney and i departed and headed over to bootleggers, waited in line for 15 minutes. danced the night away.

good times. i like being a bee.

bnw

s told me another theory of two kinds: more flexible and less spontaneous or more spontaneous and less flexible.

spontaneous: adj., having an open, natural, and uninhibited manner
flexible: adj., ready and able to change so as to adapt to different circumstances

ooh! me! me!

definitely, without a doubt, less flexible.

the bf? as laid back as can be.

spontaneity? bring it on!

the bf? not so impulsive.

however, the bf hates being pigeonholed without consent, and therefore, had a surprise evening for us on friday night. :) adorable, planned, spontaneity.

we ended up at the brave new workshop, guaranteed laughs. i love him for taking me there. and i love him for him.

whim

i like shopping.

i like shopping a lot.

and this is just about the coolest clock i have ever seen.



what? it is totally a clock! and i love it!

hearty

on most days, i buy a croissant.

when you become a regular at certain places, the people learn to know you.

there is a flaming redheaded girl (or purpleheaded, depending on the color of the dye that changes with the color of her mood) and a lightly carrotheaded boy.

they are both lovely to talk to in the mornings.

one day, the boy said to me, "i saw you walking by this morning, and you were carrying boxes. if i were that guy i would have carried them for you."

sigh. just like soup on a cold day.

ultrasound

is a scary word. when you are not pregnant and there is no cute baby to see.

when doctors cannot figure out what is wrong with you, and you have to have an ultrasound because they have run tests and supposedly everything is fine.

so you lie on that table, and when they touch you it feels uncomfortable, but when they touch that spot it feels unbearable.

and you know that you have to be there, because throwing up because of the pain is not okay.

you do what they ask of you, nicely, politely, and you tell them that you haven't felt pain like that before.

you pee in that cup, you whimper and feel humbled because you have done it so many times.

and now the ultrasound. because they don't know what's going on. this morning, 7:15am.

you strip down and wear a gown. you bite your lip to keep from crying.

you lay down on the table and keep your heels on while they put jelly on your abdomen and tell you that your uterus is tipped.

they have to use the probe to get different pictures, and this feels like a violation so you try to breathe and think of something else.

it lasts longer than it should. one more minute and you think you might scream. you think of your boyfriend sitting in the waiting room and want him to be near you, to have someone familiar close by.

and afterwards, the radiologist tells you that he spotted something on your right ovary. you freeze.

nest

the bf and i are going to check out international market square on saturday, to prep for its upcoming sample sale.

he always has some home project going on.

when we spotted the bathrooms at the walker art center, he had to have it. the next day i went over to his house. the shower was ripped out and he was already tearing down the sheetrock behind it. now his bathroom has black walls and black and white checkered tile. it is beautiful. and he did it all himself. sigh. i love the blue-collar in him.

i always try to make helpful suggestions like, "why don't you take your shirt off while you work?"

the bf, i believe, is nesting.

ahem.

these days he has moved on. he is obsessing about his kitchen now; his home dreams are filled with slate flooring and cherry cabinets. expensive. to create the illusion of space he will probably eliminate some cabinets and put up easy shelving. i love that idea: pare down your dishes because everything is on display. simple and elegant.

i cannot wait to see his new nest.

nostril love

in humans the nasal cycle is the normal ultradian cycle of each nostril's blood vessels becoming engorged in swelling, then shrinking. during the course of a day they will switch over approximately every four hours or so. [wikipedia]

in addition to being entertaining, this blog is also educational!

the bf and i have a new love litmus.

i told him the aforementioned fact and then placed a finger under each nostril to figure out which one was being used. lefty. i did the same to me. righty. we were so broken up.

some time later, he placed a finder under my nostrils. righty. he was also utilizing righty. i claimed, "baby, we are in love again!"

i'm glad we can figure out if we love each other via our anatomical cues. how else would we know?

exhale

sometimes, i think, i don't know anything about you.

but then i think that i know everything that is important for me to know about you.

and i rest easier.

daddy

today is my dad's birthday.

my parents are both libras.

my dad is the balance i relate to.

and despite his short temper, limited patience, workaholicism, obsessive compulsion, and dirty jokes*...

i still think my dad hung the moon.

so tonight, the bf and i will trek down to rochester to celebrate his charm, pride, wit, impishness, and dirty jokes.

*classic dad story: @ target, my dad held up a box of contraceptives and asked, "do you need these?! you better not!"
my retort, after grabbing a pack of pregnancy tests: "no, but i might need these!"

gotta love it. happy birthday, d.

remember that episode of friends when ross told mona he didn't think they were ready to do holiday cards together?

hello. flash to reality. welcome to my life.

i approached the idea with trepidation, even though in reality i love the idea of holiday cards and asking someone to share that with me is kind of a big deal.

the answer was not so much "we're not ready" as it was "i don't think people should do cheesy photo cards unless they are married."

no means no.

the silver lining? if there are holiday cards that we need to send to mutual acquaintances, friends, or family, that would be okay. how fabulous. i take that to mean that i will be writing out said cards and he would be happy to sign his name, but just as happy to have me sign his name.

and so, in the truest sense of the holiday spirit, i sighed, "okay."

what's next? something more than a mixed tape but less than a key to his house?

grease

babies, mama can bake after all!

i made "easy" apple crisp last night.

the bf's mom sent over a basket of apples. the boys have been going at 'em fast and furious, but there was a small gift bag full for me. what to do, what to do? i don't eat apples to the core, the acid plays with my mouth and makes me itchy and uncomfortable.

so i decided to make apple crisp.

pretty simple: white cake mix, brown sugar, butter, cinnamon. crumble over sliced apples.

bake for 50 minutes.

as soon as the i shut the oven door, before my silent gasp of delight, the bf asks, "you got everything? you didn't need to grease the pan?"

stifled gasp.

"it didn't say that i needed to": the words were out of my mouth as i quickly scanned the recipe and there it was in step 1: lightly grease a 9 x 13 baking dish.

SQUEAL

why didn't i see it? is there some kind left brain/right brain issue when it comes to reading recipes? there is just. too. effing. much. per step.

anyway. it's a damn good apple crisp. ungreased pan notwithstanding.

lasers

after we send out creative to the client, we always have to send a set of lasers.

lasers, a fancy, technical term for color copies.

ooh.

i had four sets of lasers to be couriered to the client. four envelopes ready to go. four slick mailing labels named and addressed.

ready. to. go.

i went back to my desk after being sidetracked. spotted the envelopes. sealed each one. stacked with satisfaction.

marched up to the front desk to have them delivered.

and that, was that. hmph. with a contented smirk on my face, i walked back to my office, a fancy, technical term for cube.

on my desk? four sets of lasers stared back at me.

counting

i didn't have it in me to write anything yesterday.

oh, just one of those days.

today is a new day.

i went over to see s last night. she was baking for a friend. he was diagnosed with cancer. she saw him that day and wanted to do something for him. so she baked him cookies: lovely, cakey cookies with orange juice frosting. she put her heart into them, and then said he probably wouldn't be able to taste them because of the metallic effects of chemotherapy.

i told her they will probably be the best cookies he has tasted in a while.

because sometimes, it's not the what, but the why, that counts.

classic bf

we made tacos last night.

with tomatoes, lettuce, salsa, and avocados.

in true us fashion, we forgot the cheese.

still, i delighted in the preparation and our teamwork. and by preparation i mean mine and by teamwork i mean my work.

the best part came after dinner when we were relaxing on the sofa, drinking in the ridiculousness of desperate housewives and brothers and sisters. the bf doesn't have a television at his house, and thus is rarely addicted to such escapist dramas.

during the latter show, the bf looked at me and quite seriously asked, "is this even realistic?"

gloves

the bf brought me a present from london.

they are black, suede, with a tiny bling detail.

i love them.

not because he bought them for me, but because i recall telling him that this year, i was going to treat myself to a pair of nice gloves. this year, i was going to replace the cashmere banana republic gloves that i lost in new mexico with a nice, grown-up pair of gloves. this year, i was going to protect my hands from the bitter dryness of winter and cracked knuckles. this year would be an ode to sophie's hands with love from new gloves.

i love them because he remembered.

friday

the 13th.

i hate scary movies. when i watched the others i had nightmares for months. i do not like the supernatural freaky stuff either. everyone in my family loves scary movies, but i can't stand them. they wanted to see texas chainsaw massacre: the beginning this weekend and i almost peed my pants just thinking about it.

when we were little my parents told us that we couldn't watch a particular movie. said movie was conveniently placed on top of their vcr. 'rents left to run an errand, leaving my bro and me on our own...to watch the movie. we giggled and popped it in, eyes riveted. 2 minutes of some mask-wearing chainsaw-bearing madperson chasing someone around a kitchen table and it was over for me, my heart beating so fast i couldn't figure out what was happening. that movie? texas chainsaw massacre.

so have your happy friday the 13th and watch your scary movies. me? i want to watch cartoons and drink bubbly and eat cake.

i figure that since everything else has been backwards for the bf and me, today will be especially lucky for us.

famous....last.....words.

about

me.

1. whenever i see a purple bachmans truck, i almost always assume that someone is sending me flowers. even if that truck is nowhere near me nor even remotely headed in my direction.

2. i am afraid of stepping onto escalators, as my sense of balance is not the greatest. i don't know what is wrong with my equilibrium, but escalators are like this shifting precipice that i am unable to conquer. i find myself looking down and trying to catch the rhythm of the steps before i allow myself to take one shaky step.

3. "dining obsession" is an understatement for me. i love knowing about the new it restaurant in town and will not rest until i've been there, done that, told my friends about it. i read dara moskowitz religiously even though i am emphatically against critics. places on my list: 112eatery, la belle vie, chambers kitchen.

snow! happy flipping october.

boo

in an email to the bf, i wrote:

"for halloween, i would like to be a bee. i would like you to consider being a flower."

he wrote back: "i'm actually not entirely against the flower idea. it depends on how it's executed. let me see what you have in mind."

execute this:

happy birthday mama

it is my mother's birthday today.

i woke up this morning with a note under my door that said, "don't forget about mom's birthday!"

because we have a tradition regarding birthdays.

we all race to call the night before, preferably as close to midnight as possible.

sometimes, i am first. sometimes, we call someone else in the hopes of distracting them so they are unable to call the birthday person. sometimes, we call ten minutes before and stay on the phone with each other until midnight.

last night, i dropped the ball. i went to bed at 11:30p, exhausted. i called my mother this morning, at 7:30am. i woke her up. happy birthday wishes. and she told me that i was the last one.

sad. i really, really hate losing.

secret

"you can talk to me about anything."

except, when i can't.

i know that i want to be with you. i know that you are my best friend. i know you.

and yet.

i don't know that we can talk to each other about everything.

i know it's because i am scared. i feel like i can be myself with you. and be open. and let you in.

you asked me once if i was going to let you love me. i am trying. it is dizzying. and terrifying. and amazing. in one moment.

but really, when i told you i miss you today, my heart jumped. when i tell you i love you, my heart swells. loving you is the easy part. it is the rest that scares me.

all i need to do is ask. sometimes, the right question can be difficult to shape. before i know it, the moment has passed, and there is nothing left for me to mull over, and i am left with empty questions and absent answers. my mouth a silent 'o'.

"there is a part of you that i can't touch."

maybe so. but i can tell you that i want you to touch every part of me, and i want you to know me. i feel like i've given you everything i can, and i want to give you everything.

because i am yours. and i wonder if you are mine.

hot air

albuquerque. new mexico. international hot air balloon fiesta.

in a word: serendipitous.

in a couple more: amazing. awesome.

and i'm not just describing sex with the bf.

we arrived at midnight on friday. we had a car rental reserved for $69/day. we upgraded to a chrysler 300c. hot.

we drove to our hotel, exhausted and ready to sneak in a bit of sleep before we had to get up for mass ascension at the fiesta. alas, the hotel was overbooked: get thee back in the car to another hotel, with no guarantee of availability for saturday night. slim to none.

sleep. 5.5 hours later, my hateful phone alarm rings. 6:30am. miracles happen. we are on the road by 7am. we park. we walk a mile to the balloon fiesta park.

we stop. and look. and wonder. i am amazed at how huge the balloons are, how everyone suddenly turns into a kid again, and how i can't stop smiling. the bf and i walk among them and try to drink it all in. there are not nearly the 700 i dreamed of, but enough to woo me.

we have a breakfast burrito. cherry lemonade. turkey leg. cinna cup.

we head back to the hotel. no rooms for us. we somehow get our friday night room comped. another hotel. an executive suite. we drive to new hotel. look around. the bf asks if i want to stay or go home. i look at him and will him to be less tired, for things to work out, to just be together and have fun. i tell him i want to stay.

we go to old town and walk around galleries, san felipe neri church.

i walk with the bf and bask in the serendipity. my dream? check.

out

thank you for the visit.

if you are reading this, i am en route to new mexico, on my way to a hotel just secured last night and a rental car reserved this morning. i will probably be tipping back major drinks on el plane to drown the memories of today's daily grind. i will be having lots of sex this weekend and too busy appropriately feeling like a woman to care about anything other than me, the bf, and 700 fricking hot air balloons.

love,
sophie

maltesers

the bf came back yesterday.

he surprised me at the shop and guess what? he got me 6 bags of maltesers! best. boyfriend. ever.

my favorite treat from england. they have these cooled vending machines in london, and by goodness, if i didn't get myself at least 3 packs a week. addicting. cold chocolate. mmm.

i'm not a huge chocolate fan, but at certain times of the month (see 10.03.06 post) i need it. but more importantly, i have already eaten two bags of maltesers. i will have to carefully ration the last four to last for a while. other chocolate favourites include: chocolate hazelnut truffle cake @ zeno, sixlets, whatchamacallits, chocolate flourless cake @ tejas, chocolate chocolate cupcake @ turtle bread, and mini chips ahoys.

it is certainly a cold chocolate day.

red

omg.

all i can tell you about this morning is that i was in the bathroom for twenty minutes alternating between frantically dabbing my light grey pants with water and patting them dry, hoping for the love of everything that there will be no telltale signs that i, of all people, am a frigging woman who is currently not pregnant.

get it before it sets! get it before it sets!

i mean, what the f? i come to work all innocent-like, all the while my body is planning to play this cruel joke on me. and on a day that i have a client meeting. of course. cripes almighty, control yourself.

wild scenarios raced across my mind as i contemplated a) running to my car to drive home and change b) running to the gap to buy new pants and c) staying in the bathroom and calling in sick. i closed my eyes. i thought of better places, better avenues of escape, better anything.

then, a light came down and cleared my head. blink blink. everything happened in slow motion as the spots gave way to light grey. exhale.

and all was right with the world.

sweetheart

wow! the bf loves me so much that he had cup lids printed with his special nickname for me!

it is sooo sweet that he is letting me know that he loves me all the way from the uk!

sweetest gesture ever. giggle.

classic bf

once upon a time, the bf told me to download a song.

i did. i listened to it.

it was a girl like you by pete yorn.

i called him instantly.

"baby! i got it! does it make you think of me?"

"no, you don't have green eyes."

"so you told me to download a song that doesn't make you think of me?"

perfect.

vows

every sunday, i read the vows column in the new york times.

it's one of my girlie pleasures.

every week, i read about two people finding each other, falling in love, and beginning a life together.

the column gives me hope, makes me believe in happily ever after. despite my baggage, i have vivid dreams that my heart will feel whole.

my baggage. it hurts me to think about. i yearn for the days when i looked love in the eye and wasn't afraid. i wanted it. i wanted more than anything to love someone with my whole heart. with all of myself. and i did. and then a part of my heart broke and i thought i would never feel that way again.

today, i know that what i had was not a good love, but my heart's fabricated version of happiness. i knew better, i knew that nights crying myself to sleep and not wanting that life was not a good thing. but still my heart pressed on. and what i got out of it i didn't recognize until now.

i get to start over. i have been granted a second wish. a chance. another shot at a great love, one that is filled with everything i have ever wanted, everything i never even knew i needed. i could be that girl in the vows column, i could be the girl smiling as if that day will last forever.

and the bf, he makes me believe it could happen to me.

low

would it be lame to talk about how gorgeous the weather is in minnesota?

i love it. fall is here. low humidity. low seventies.

the bf didn't leave yesterday. (does that make yesterday's post a lie?)

checked out the chambers hotel last night. nyc by way of hennepin and ninth. it was gorgeous and modern. my element. slick, white, and sparkly. the view on the patio is amazing. two lovely glasses of pinot noir and i imagined i was somewhere else.

this morning we went to the edina grill for breakfast. horrible, undercooked eggs. my stomach is still reeling.

we kicked back in his backyard and took a twenty minute nap. it was perfect.

currently, the bf is en route to london. i wonder if he misses me yet.

london

the bf leaves for london today.

i am envious. and wistful. and light blue.

he stopped by the shop last night, "to tell you how beautiful you are."

this morning as he slipped out of bed, i rolled over to feel the warmth of his imprint. i willed his impression to linger, to stay with me and hold my heart until he comes home, to take care of me until he finds his way back.

no one else makes me feel like he does.

how does the saying go? the heart makes the distance grow smaller.

missing

yesterday was a long day.

when i left the office, i walked to my parking ramp on fifth street in downtown minneapolis.

i was talking to s at the time, we were going to meet for a quick dinner at the edina grill.

after walking a reasonable distance to my car, i discovered that my car was not there.

s, i said, i don't know where my car is!

following is the sequence of events:

1. i walked around the corner of A6
2. door to stairwell was locked, i cursed the video monitor
3. i got on the elevator and pushed A4
4. the elevator doors opened and i got out
5. i screamed when i got out on A8 (aka the roof)
6. i looked pointedly at the video camera in the elevator
7. i got off the elevator on A4
8. i walked around the corner of A4
9. i walked down to A2 and resolved to walk up the ramp until i found my car
10. bingo. car found on A2.

fifteen minutes later. losing my car happens so often i just throw up my hands and give in.

i'm sure the security guys got a great laugh out of it all. jerks. what, can't help a girl out?!

a wish

i know most of you reading are my dear, dear friends.

today there is one in particular on my mind.

when i met s, i did not think there was a pure sweetheart left on the planet. i was wrong.

she was mixed up about her boyfriend, struggling with emotions.

but today, she has renewed, and she is brilliantly in love.

"i love him so much sophs. i didn't know you could feel like this."

and what a perfect time of year to be in love. it's crisp outside; the perfect temperature for cuddling.

when you're in love like s is, it is infectious, and makes everyone's heart smile.

the feeling behind her words, the passion she feels for her bf, it's enough to make you lose your breath.

because i know what she feels like, to feel like you've finally found it. on so many levels.

invisible

i made dinner for the bf last night.

he was working late, and i thought we could relax with some good food and great conversation.

except:

lesson 1: grilled tuna means you need an actual grill.

lesson 2: grilling does not mean the same as frying.

who knew?

lemon juice, honey, oregano, salt, pepper, olive oil, capers in a tomato salad. no cooking required -- it turned out beautifully.

and we somehow skipped conversation. we watched curb your enthusiasm instead.

not quite the same. still, i resolved to be content sitting next to the bf. recognize his need to unwind.

but the bf saw right through me. sigh. it's that darn connection we have. or because my feelings are transparent.

whatever

the bf and i are engaged in a battle of wills.

i am pretty sure i will win.

last night, the bf made fun of my snappy retort (suitable for all occasions): whatever.

something about wit, yada yada, great comeback, something something.

usually, i am a sassbox. sometimes, a whatever is called for.

however, per the parameters of our verbal scrap, i am no longer allowed to use it when responding to his barbs.

we will count how many times i say whatever* and how many times he says, "you're something else."

variations on elements contained in "you're something else" include:

* you're
* you are
* you
* are
* something
* somethin
* else

i don't know how i will do it, but i will. it's just that, whatever speaks volumes. it is applicable to a whole range of emotions. how will i live without it? oh dear valley girl, what have i done?

*written whatevers do not count towards total.

shh

i pretend to be annoyed,

but secretly:

i love when i catch the bf looking at me.

50

the bf's mom turns fifty today.

we are suprising her at dinner in duluth.

the bf and i put together a photoshow for the event, with family photos and music.

i went over to his house last night to help put it together.

i walked in the door. we kissed.

the bf said, 'what did you have for dinner?'

i said, quite proudly, 'veggie tamale pie from gigi's.'

he said, 'it's really strong."

huh? what does that mean? how can i take care of it? what is the degree of offensiveness here? do i need to brush my teeth or stand outside to aerate?

after several minutes of trying to pinpoint the exact ingredient that resulted in my strong fragrance, i became more perplexed.

exasperation = 'do you want me to leave?'

SNAP.

and there you have it, boys and girls. our first fight regarding an affront to the olfactory senses.

grey's

i am so excited for grey's anatomy tonight.

the season premiere.

waiting with bated breath.

here's my one gripe, aside from generally resisting the preference for medical dramas (really?! is the hospital a sexy place? does the smell of cheerios and band-aids turn you on?):

i hate meredith grey.

she represents everything i dislike: the whine, the need, the weakness.

"pick me, love me, choose me."

my ass.

i want to shake her. most of all, i want to give her some advice. sure, mcdreamy is adorable. he has crinkley eyes, and he is, for all television intents and purposes, a smart doctor. but to actually fall all over yourself to win back someone who wants to reconcile with his wife? to get over someone lying to you about said wife? to kid yourself about being over someone and then giving him your dog? what is this? am i supposed to fall for this kind of sh*t?

how can someone be so smart and so dumb at the same time? and don't get me started about how she always looks like she's half-asleep. eye roll.

good until 9/20/06

i have to admit, sometimes i cannot get enough of the bf.

as in, i am always pestering him, and i need his full attention at all times. as in, i am always getting in his way or trying to get to where he is. as in, i am always underfoot.

last night was no different.

we went to his brother's house in st.bonafacius, which usually means that i sit quietly on the couch while his nephew clamors for his attention. it's a nice, soft evening.

on the way back to his house, the bf says, "can we stop so i can get you a treat?', which usually means that he wants a treat. if he is anything like me, that is. he buys me a popsicle.

nothing like frozen sugar water to get my brain moving again. not to mention my libido. when we get to his house, the bf parks on the sofa. we watch some garbage on the internet. we go up to his room.

the bf tells me to get ready for bed. i bounce around some more and ignore him. the bf tells me to get ready for bed. i pout. the bf tells me to get ready for bed. i start picking up his socks and throwing them angrily on his floor. the bf tells me to get ready for bed. i jump into his arms and wrap my legs around him. the bf tells me to get ready for bed. i look at him in defiance while he climbs into bed.

i go downstairs to get ready for bed.

when i am ready, i come back upstairs. we cuddle. sigh.

i whisper, "baby, wanna do it?"

the bf moans, "i wanted to do it an hour ago!"

and in the silence that followed, i get it: my time for sex has expired.