Soul Vacation

Now that she's back in the atmosphere
With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey
She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there's time to change, hey, hey
Since the return from her stay on the moon
She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey

Tell me did you sail across the sun
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded
And that heaven is overrated

Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star
One without a permanent scar
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there

Now that she's back from that soul vacation
Tracing her way through the constellation, hey, hey
She checks out Mozart while she does tae-bo
Reminds me that there's room to grow, hey, hey

Now that she's back in the atmosphere
I'm afraid that she might think of me as plain ol' Jane
Told a story about a man who is too afraid to fly so he never did land

Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back to the Milky Way
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind
Was it everything you wanted to find
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there

Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken
Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance five-hour phone conversation
The best soy latte that you ever had . . . and me

Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back toward the Milky Way 

I woke up this morning with the song Drops of Jupiter in my head.  I love love love this song. It makes me think of transformation, growth and change. 

A few years back, this song was my "theme" song.  I played it all the time because I was going through a transformation.  Shifting my way of thinking.  Trying to get my head on.  I love the phrase "soul vacation".  I have no clue what the song writer meant by it, but when I hear the phrase I think of taking a time out to find oneself - to get reacquainted with one's soul.   My second favorite part of the song is the part about the best friend sticking up for you and then he says "even when I know you're wrong", meaning that he's her best friend.  Nice.  We all need someone who has our back.

I think I need a soul vacation.  I want to go some place "away from the things of man" (to quote Joe Versus the Volcano) and be alone and get my shit together.  And by shit, I mean my head and heart.  My head is going in one direction.  My heart another.  I'm burned out, frustrated, and a bit manic depressive.  I either have a really good day or a really bad one.  I haven't had any average days lately.  If I could remove my heart from the equation, I think my head and I would be okay.  We've helped each other out in the past.  Damn you heart, damn you.

It makes me want things I can't have.  I know there's a quote "It's good to want things" because it means that "want" leads to "doing".  "Want" is a huge motivator.  If you want things, you do things to make it happen.  Or, at least that's the logic.

However, I've been sort of shuffling around, not really interested in "doing". I spent a good amount of time -- about 8-9 months -- "doing" things I thought would bring me what I "want".  Now, I don't want to "do" anything anymore.  I'm not a patient person.  If I don't see immediate results, I give up.  I'm surprised I've held on this long.  Glutton for punishment?  Hopeful romantic?  Blind fool?  Pick one.  I'll answer to it.

I saw Train in concert in 2001.  They sang the song.  It was awesome.  I think I cried. 

I haven't written in a week.  I have things bouncing around in my head but I just couldn't make myself sit down and write them.

So, the first thing I want to talk about is underwear.

Most women are either "boxers or briefs".  Meaning that what they like to see on a man is either "boxers" or "briefs".  I'm a boxers woman.  I like the loose "imagine what is inside" look of boxers on a man. 

The other night, I was watching a tv show and one of the characters was walking around in a t-shirt and tidy whitey underpants.  Briefs.  Not attractive.  They always look saggy and unattractive.  I know it's about function.  I'm sure my 100% cotton high-waisted briefs are not attractive, but they are comfortable.  They do their job.  I have more attractive underwear but no one is looking at it and it's not comfortable.  So, granny panties win.  I guess men probably feel the same way.  I'd think boxers would be more comfortable than briefs though.  No point to this debate.  Just putting out there that I prefer boxers to briefs.  However, I'm not going to be picky if some guy wants to drop trou and show me his unmentionables.  I'll try hard to remove the image of my dad and brother walking around the house in their underwear (briefs).  I'll pretend he is some underwear model.  Yeah...   Oh... boxer briefs.  Awesome compromise.  If they even still make them.

The second thing I want to talk about -- signature scent.  I finally found a new "favorite" scent.  I blogged a couple of months ago about trying to find a new scent.  I'd love to say I discovered it on my own, but I have a man to thank for this new scent.  A straight man.   A male friend confessed a fondness for a certain bath and body works scent.  I had other lotions from other makers with the same name of the scent but none of them smelled the same.  You'd think something as common as Japanese Cherry Blossom (or Cherry Blossom) would be universal.  But, nooooooooooo.  Someone gave me a small trial size sampler of lotion, body spray and body wash for Christmas.  I started using it about a month ago.  I had to wait until the previous scent, Nighttime Tea, ran out.  I really like it.  It's not too floral.  Not overpowering.  It is soft and comforting.  So, I guess you can say I stole (or "borrowed") someone's signature scent.  He's a guy.  He'll get over it.  It's not like he's going to step up and say, "That is mines! You can't wear it!"  The clerk at Bath and Body Works told me it's their #1 top seller so there's hope I won't get attached and have it get discontinued like all of my other "favorites".

The third thing I want to talk about is my horoscope.  Or astrology, in general.  A couple of months ago, a woman told me that I needed to be on the lookout for a Taurus. Said that it was my most compatible sign.  I know a few male Tauruses... or is that Tauri? So, I read my horoscope every day and then I read the horoscope for Taurus.  If my horoscope says anything about romance, I check that sign for romance, too.  Then, I get a little giddy and hopeful if both horoscopes seem to be on the same track.  Then, nothing happens.  For me, at least.  I was telling someone about it and she jokingly said, "Well, what if his horoscope is coming true .... just not with you.  It's not like someone went to him and said that Scorpio is his match, right?"  I know she wasn't trying to be mean but it hurt... and it made sense.  We all get what we want out of horoscopes.  Whenever mine said romance was in the air, I immediately got hopeful for a specific person.  I didn't stop and think that if he was reading his horoscope that he might be thinking of someone else altogether. There's no reason why I should be the first to come to mind.  He might read his horoscope and then rush to read the horoscope of a Pisces or a Virgo... or any other sign.  It made me feel foolish to get such high hopes over something that is essentially just words.  I get three horoscopes delivered to my in box each day and all three are different each day.  You'd think they'd all say the same thing, right? (shrug)  So, I'm still keeping my sights open for a compatible Taurus, but I'm not relying too much on astrology to guide us to each other.  It just makes me realize that hope and excitement I feel for someone...  well, they may have the same hope and excitement for someone else.

Next topic... I realized recently that a male friend has this habit of being overly charming when he wants to impress people and he uses me as his "audience" for this charmingness so that the others can see it as a witty byproduct. I felt kind of foolish when it sunk it. I had thought he was doing it for me.  When we're alone, he doesn't really go out of his way to be charming, or witty, or funny, or endearing.  Sometimes it happens.  Mostly, it doesn't. He's your average guy with average things to say, usually about his job, television, the weather, politics, etc. It's not unpleasant.  I like his company.  I thought it showed a comfort level with us that he could just chit chat about general stuff.  Never anything too personal, though.  I've hoped and waited for the personal stuff but unless I ask, he doesn't volunteer. And even if I ask, it doesn't mean I'll get it.  I thought he was just trying to be mysterious... or shy.  I think it's just that he isn't interested in bonding with me that way.

However, every now and then, he'll shine and sparkle.  (No, he's not a vampire or a unicorn.)  He'll be very witty.  Funny.  Charming.  We'll engage in some sort of banter.  Maybe even flirt.  He'll share some random bit of personal information.  I get excited that he's finally opening up to me.  Well...  the egg is on my face.  I don't think it is for me.

Recently, out of nowhere, the man blurted out some talent that he had.  I was doing nothing that had anything to do with this talent.  In fact, I hadn't even been talking to him.  There was another young lady present.  An attractive, single young lady.  I had run into him earlier while he was with the woman, and he was all smiles, in a great mood.  I enjoyed seeing him smile and thought that maybe he was just in a really good mood.  I didn't connect the dots that the woman = his perkiness.  Until later.  So, there I was, minding my own business and he blurts out, "I've been told ...." and then goes on to tell me (in front of her) about a talent he has.  I nodded and asked some question that I can't even remember now that pertained to the talent, and he went on to list all of the different types of this talent that he could do.  I smiled and nodded.  He seemed pretty pleased with himself.  I felt pleased (and confused) that he was sharing something that had nothing to do with anything we were doing or talking about.  I looked at the other woman and she was smiling but she didn't seem particularly interested.  She seemed more interested in hearing the funny story I had been telling.  I felt like I was in  some sort of "who is more interesting?" competition and just walked away.  As I was walking down the hall, all of these "charming moments" came flying through my head and I realized that for the most part, there was always another person around.  And by another person, I mean usually an attractive woman.  I hate to think it, I really do, but I think he was using me to show off for other people.  He couldn't just walk up to the women and start rattling off interesting things, but people know we have a bond, a connection of sorts, and have a history of funny, witty things -- so it wouldn't seem odd for him to try to joke with me, flirt with me, tell me some sort of story.  What he doesn't realize is that I fell for all of it.  Hook, line and sinker.  I thought it was all for me.   

I tried an experiment after I realized what was going on.  The next time he tried to do or say something witty in the presence of someone else, I pretended like I wasn't listening or paying attention to see if he'd stop.  My logic was that if it was for me, as soon as he realized I wasn't paying attention, he'd stop.  If he kept going, then I knew it was for everyone else but I was the "audience" to give him the opportunity he needed.  He kept going.

Now, there have been a few isolated moments of whimsy that only I was audience to, but if I try to share those funny stories with people, he gets mad at me and tells me to stop.  Mostly because they are kind of odd things and probably wouldn't impress an attractive, single woman (other than me.)  Those stories don't draw the reaction he wants.

I don't like being the victim of a drive by charming incident. I don't do it to him.  I don't walk up to him and start acting amusing just to get a reaction out of other people.  It's not fair.  I liked thinking it was for me.  I liked having our funny little stories.  I hope it's just a coincidence that these other women were there.  Maybe he needed them to be there to give him courage to tell me stuff...  but I don't think so.  I think I was the "plant".  This makes me sad.

Which brings me to my next topic.  Hot chicks.  I don't understand why men feel they can tell me what women they think are attractive.  I don't ask them.  I don't walk up to them and tell them what men I think are attractive.  I don't sit with them and track other men with my eyes as they walk around us.  Yet, in the past few months, I've been the unfortunate recipient of that sort of treatment.  I was eating lunch with a male friend a couple of weeks ago and this woman walked into the room.  He tracked her with his eyes as she walked around.  I had been talking to him.  I could tell he wasn't even paying attention to me anymore.  I could have told him that I loved him and wanted to bathe in his dirty bathwater and he wouldn't have heard it.  Hello, am I that f*cking invisible?  So, to try to get even, I sent said male friend an email telling him I thought another male friend was interested in me.  He responded that it was too much information. He can ogle other women, tell me he's going to get laid (using indirect words to that effect) while on vacation, tell me that he "likes" a business associate (whom isn't interested in him.  I went on a fact fishing expedition to see what she thought of him and she said she thought he was perfect for me) but I can't tell him about another man. (Which I really wasn't interested in.  I was just trying to make him jealous.  Backfired.)   

He's not the only one, sadly.  I've had three other male friends ask me about or tell me about other women we know and how "doable" they are or how "hot" they are.  Seriously, guys.  I'm right here.  I'm a woman.  I am not your buddy.  I don't hang out with you and drink beer.  I won't slap you on the ass for doing a good job.  I deserve respect.  What are you going to do when all of these "hot" (and not nearly as funny, smart and personable as me) women disappear and all that is left is little ole me?  Beg? Grovel? Turn gay?  

I don't mean to sound bitter.  I'm just frustrated.  I could understand if I was encouraging it.  But, I am not.  I made up my mind a few months ago that all men were potential romantic interests until they proved otherwise (being in a relationship, etc) and I wasn't going to treat them as "buddies" until I knew for sure that there was no romantic chance.  These guys are doing it right out of the gate.  Hell, one guy only knew me three days and started telling me about hot chicks in his life.  (Sigh)

And, now, I'm going to wrap up with my last topic.  Weight loss surgery.   I mentioned in another blog that I have been thinking about it.  I went to an information session this past week.  I stayed for an hour and then left.  It just didn't feel right for me.  It seems way too risky.  Plus, I'm alone.  I live on the second floor.  I've already used up my sick time for the year. As they rattled off "things to consider", I realized I don't want to have the stomach the size of my thumb.  I don't want to give up alcohol and carbonated drinks.  I don't want to find someone to take care of me while I recuperate. I don't want loose skin.  I can't afford the loss of income while I'm off work.  I don't have a first floor place to stay while I heal.  Hospitals scare me.  It seemed scary and permanent.  It also seemed "last ditch" and I don't think I'm at "last ditch" yet.   

Also, we were asked "why?"  Why do you want to do this?  I pondered it.  To be honest, the only motivator I had is that I wanted to a quick, jumpstart to my diet.  I wanted to lose a large amount of weight in a short period of time.  I wanted to give these hot chicks my male friends are tracking a run for their money.  It's no secret I've had a mammoth sized crush on someone.  What I'm currently doing and who I currently am aren't making him notice me.  So, in my foolishness, I thought that if I had surgery and lost a lot of weight, then I could be the one who sashays in front of him and gets tracked.  Ha!  What was I thinking?  As soon as the "reason" materialized in my mind, I couldn't even bring myself to say the words out loud so I left.  Wrong wrong wrong reason.  Not because I want to be healthy.  Not because of health issues.  Not because of all of the statistical information that someone my age who is as large as I am is a major risk for early death.  Nope.  I wanted to be prettier and sexier.  LOLOL.  Laughing at myself now.  As I drove home, I realized I don't want a man who would only look at me if I lost a mountain of weight. So, now I'm returning back to the gym and returning back to eating right...  and this time, it's for me.  ME. ME. ME.

If it works, it works.  If it doesn't, it doesn't.  But, no more of this doing it for other people.  They aren't going out of their way to impress me.  And if they don't like me as I am --- 300 lbs or 130 lbs -- then I'm better off without them, right?

So, now I'm ready for my soul vacation.  

And to have Venus blow my mind.

And find that best friend who always sticks up for me, even when I'm wrong.