Da mi basia mille...

Can you take a bra off with one hand?
No, I mean I kind of can, but I think my boobs are too big to do that. ...Or maybe I'm just not good at it. However, I'm a pro at the two handed method!

Last furry thing you touched?
My extremely soft blanket that I got from my mom for Christmas. She has one just like it on her bed. When I went to visit for Thanksgiving I almost stole it! Good thing I have my own now. It's soooo soft!

What do you check out first when you check someone out?
Their brain.

Do you wanna get married anytime soon?
Not anytime soon, but I know I would like to in the next 10 years. It would be nice to have someone with which I could build a life.

Have you ever kissed someone in a band?
My boyfriend used to have a little band in high school. So I guess I have! Haha.

When you looked in the mirror today, what was your first thought?
I can't remember what I thought. Yesterday I didn't even look out the window! Was it raining? It's a good thing I got out of the house today. Lol..

Where is Amish paradise?
Wherever Weird Al is?

Would you raise your children like your parents raised you?
Um, well this is quite a complicated answer. My parents divorced when I was young, and due to circumstances beyond my control we struggled quite a lot. However, my mother is an extremely strong person. I would raise my children to dream, to reach for every possibility and every goal they want to achieve. I would give them unconditional love, and teach them right from wrong. I would want them to value hard work, and the success that comes from that, as well as the value of education. I would call them beautiful every day, and show them how much I love them no matter what. Naturally I would make some changes, because I am a very different person, but yes, overall, I would raise my children like my parents raised me.

What made you happy today?
Michael Apted's 28 Up, seeing Rosie (I love her), watching It's Complicated and realizing I must attend culinary school and get my Master's for writing, drinking hard cider, laughing, seeing my love, him whispering I love yous in between kisses, chatting with Mike's awesome mom, hanging out with the guys while they played Halo, getting doughnuts and milk, listening to Owl City's 'Fireflies' while writing this.

Have you ever been caught dancing like a fool?
Ohhhh yes. I adore dancing, and if i can make as foolish as possible, it is so much better.

Why do guys act jerks around the person they have a crush on?
This is a funny question. Ummm, I think because they want to show that they are confident, and that they can "be a man". Or they're in denial. I think the guys that act like a nice guy are the ones who end up with a damn good life, or at least I'm rooting for them to have one.

If you woke up to a shark in your bath tub, what would you do?
Okay, question, why am i asleep in my bathtub? Well, I would freak out. That is one of my worst fears. Things attacking me in the shower/bathtub in general is a terrible fear of mine. Uggghhhh!

If women ruled the world would there be more peace?
Hmmm, I'm not sure, but I think things would be a hell of a lot better.

What's your favorite zoo animal?
I like the seals at the zoo. At the LA zoo they used to have this seal exhibit and there was a cave near it with a waterfall, and you could go under the awning to see the back of the waterfall, and the exhibit from a different angle. ... I loved it when I was younger. I probably still would if I went back. I usually like the more aquatic exhibits, oh and the reptile house.

Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear?
NO! I have always wanted one. ...Some day...

Do you have a significant other?
=) Yes I do. He is wonderful.

Are you donating your organs?
Of course. If I can help save a life I'll do it.

Have you ever been dared to do something you totally regretted?
I think so... I can't really think of anything right now.

Did your mom or dad ever put soap in your mouth?
YES! I think I said "shit" one time, and I remember having a bar of soap shoved in my mouth. Then I saw "A Chritmas Story" and realized that my mother had learned it from there! EVIL!

Have you ever told a girl/boyfriend you loved them but didn't mean it?
No. I always mean it.

Name someone from your past that you wish was still there:
I wish my Aunt Katherine was still sane. She used to be a really cool person, and I miss that person.

When is the last time you wanted to punch someone in their face?
Ummm, probably on Sunday when recalling all of the terrible things Ron has done to my mother. Yea, he deserves a giant monster punch in the face.

Do you feel you have a purpose or calling in life?
Absolutely. I need to see the world, and love.

Have you ever had an online relationship?
Um, NO.

What does your middle name mean?
Well my middle name is Ellen. It's been in my family for many MANY years. My mother is Leslie Ellen, my grandmother is Mary Ellen, and my first daughter will have Ellen as her middle name. It comes from the Greek 'Helen' which means "sun, ray, or shining light".

What was the last fruit you ate?
A banana.

Are you currently wearing socks?
Nope.

Who was the last person to make you laugh?
Noam and Mike. We were discussing these characters from a certain video game that I can't remember right now. Anyways, I kept pronouncing the word wrong. It's spelled dragoon, but you say it 'dru-goon'. I kept saying drAgoon. Like a dragon. Ha. Mike was in the car, and there were many nerdy and funny moments. We even fogged up the windows because of how hard we were laughing. Oh and Noam's voice might have squeaked a few times whilst expressing anger and laughter. Ohh it was fabulous.

What shocked you last?
My lack of activity over the past two days, but I went out today! Yay!

Can you do a handstand?
I can do one for like two seconds with out a wall, but then I fall over into a bridge. I rock at doing a handstand against a wall though. Lol.

Will you be over 21 in 3 years?
I'm 22...

Who ended your last relationship?
A 16 year-old me.

Have you ever dated someone with more piercings than you?
Nope.

How much did you spend the last item you bought something?
$2.90. I bought two doughnuts and some milk. The guys and I went to the Doughnut Wheel!

Were you in a relationship this time 2 years ago?
Nope.

If you could know one thing about your future, what would it be?
This is a cool question! Um, but a hard one. I think ... hmmm... I think I would want to know if I will be happy.

Who was the last person you spent more than 15 minutes on the phone
with?
Bill.

How do you like your eggs?
Scrambled! Mmmmmmmmmmm.

Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
YES. I'll be kissing him tomorrow, and again, and again, and again, and again, and-... well you get the point. =)

Have you been swimming in the last six months?
I don't think so! ...Weird.

How often do you read the newspaper?
I read the news online every day.

Have you ever known someone who died on your birthday?
I didn't know him, but Augustus Caesar died on August 19th. Hence the month AUGUST. Therefore, I WIN!

Dear Marion Cotillard,

I have just seen your new film Nine, and ... I have a confession to make.

I have fallen beyond hopelessly in love with you. To call you beautiful is a monstrous understatement. Your performance in this film was awe-inspiring, and you are a glittering gem amongst your sullied peers.

You have me forever.

I love you, most ardently.

...

-Christina

Two days of nothing...

I have spent a third of my day in my pajamas, a third of it in warm water, and a third third of it in my underwear. Being that this is two-thirds of my day, I wonder what I will do for the rest of it.

Today I have:

Gone on Facebook more than any human being should

Cut my hair. It came out quite cute, and i gave myself bangs to boot!

Finished Toi et Moi. It was fantastic. That Marion Cotillard. I tell you, I am obsessed.

Finished my bag of lethal Wheat-honey pretzel sticks from Trader Joes.

Right now I made myself a plate of cheese and crackers. Mild cheddar cheese, and light feta accompanied with Stone Wheat crackers from Trader Joe's. They're my favorite. I arranged the mild cheddar cheese like a fan, cut a rectangle of salty feta and placed it next to the fan. Then I squirted some dark Agave nectar in front of them, and stacked the stone wheat crackers to the side. I love cheese and crackers so very much, but right now I can't stop sliding my finger along the dark agave nectar and raising it to my lips to taste its sweetness. I cannot get over how flavorful it is. It's both floral, but spiced in taste. It's dark, and reminds me of the holidays. It has the same kind of flavor. It's as if cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, are all deep within the syrup. I really can't get enough of it.

I truly love food. It makes me feel amazing, and I'm not talking about a love for fast food, or greasy artery and heart stopping over processed crap food. (Don't get me wrong, I love some of that too) I love deep flavors, fresh flavors, light, dark, hot cold, I adore cooking and food. This blog was originally supposed to be about food, but it soon became me writing about my life. I have and am considering attending culinary school, or becoming a culinary writer. I do love the art of food so much.

I watched Paris, Je T'aime
I watched Notting Hill


Now I am playing dress up. I went shopping with my grandma, and got a whole bunch of new clothes for interviews and work. So I am trying on outfits for the New Year.

Try out new makeup styles for New Years
Straighten my hair and perfect my cut

I did all of these things, and now it is Wednesday. ...I should probably post this now. ...And get out of bed. =)

Update Part 1 of 1 million...

I want my own apartment. I want a job. I will be tutoring starting next week, but I want a real full blown job. I know I am just starting out in the professional world, but I want to be paid 15$ an hour to answer phones, file, greet, impress, multi-task, and make money. So much has happened since my last post. So much so that I really cannot write it all down in this one post. I have to break it up or my brain will silently explode. So here are my categories I'll eventually write about, in no particular order.

Apartment
Job
Money
Dad
Mom
Roommate
Boyfriend

Maybe I'll be able to mix them up into one mega post, but I don't really want to do that. These are the things that have been swirling around in my life for the past few months. The things that have consumed my life, my time, my brain. So much so that I didn't even know where to begin in writing about them. I have tried to write for the past few months, but my own lack of will or motivation has kept me from doing so. Like I mentioned in my first post. I want to be a writer, but I don't know what to write. I find this happening a lot lately. I want to do so many things, but I don't know how to do it. No, I know how to do it, I just don't. Everything seems so big to me right now, so impossible to complete. I have opened all of these doors, I just haven't found my way back to close them.

Right now I'm supposed to call my best friend Bill and talk to him about how he got sick over the Christmas Holiday. I miss Bill a lot. We were joined at the hip for four years, and lived together for two years. Now I barely see him once a week. I know things change, but I really miss him. He is very busy, and I know he always thinks about me, but I also know that things tend to become distant when you're away from each other.

I was so used to knowing everything that happened in his day, and now I get little snippets here and there. He has become closer to one of his housemates, and while I think this is fantastic, I sometimes cannot help but feel shoved slightly to the side while he has someone new to always be there for him.

I have no doubt that I will know Bill forever. He is my family now. It's as if someone pulled a string through both of our hearts and tied them together for eternity. I have no doubt that we will never stop being friends. No matter how far the string is pulled. However I am still sitting here typing away, and like so many things I do, I haven't called him yet. I haven't been doing anything. My boyfriend Noam, the Ron Weasley to this trio situation, talked with him earlier today.

Yes, I have a boyfriend now. I suppose this will be the topic of this post considering it's been a pretty huge topic in my life right now. I still can't really fathom how it happened. It's been a little over two months with him, and I sometimes have to step back and wonder how this all came to be.

You see I was the girl who was lost in a world of unrequited love. Like Bill, Noam is my best friend. I've known him for four years, and lived with him for two. When I first met Noam I felt an instant attraction for him, and as embarrassing as it has been over the years, this attraction has never faded. Not for one second. On the contrary it has grown exponentially. It was there when we met and became good friends Freshman year. It watched over me when I slept in his bed for the first time, when we would watch Hockey, cuddle, or play games like "Nervous"- A game where we would move our hands up each others legs and say "Are you nervous yet?"-

My attraction just watched and laughed when we would get into tickling matches that would end with him tickling my neck with his lips, or us making up a ridiculous game called "eye sex" just so we could rub ourselves against each other. Sometimes it held its breath in anticipation. One night when we were watching Gladiator, I was laying on a table behind the couch in the student lounge. Noam came over and made a joke about how I needed CPR. He bent down and briefly brushed his lips over mine. It wasn't a kiss, but I remember thinking he had the softest lips I had ever felt. In those moments my attraction was matched by his, but then somewhere along the line his brain told him to stop, and we simply became friends. My attraction became disappointed and embarrassed, then tried to hide itself quickly.

When freshman year ended we both went home for the summer. We talked every other day, and I remember I had to come back to Santa Cruz early for RA training. Noam had to be back as well. He received a job with one of the coffee stands on campus, and they needed him for training. I remember the day I got a call from him Sophomore year to come over and say hello. I had told myself all summer that I would not repeat my mistake of being so attracted to him. I said it would go away. However, the moment he opened the door it flooded back. I remember there was a bit of awkwardness of getting back into the groove where we would talk openly with one another. Although, twenty minutes later we were back in his bed cuddling. Just lying next to each other, talking, and being us.

When I think of my entire relationship with Noam, it has always revolved around a bed. It always centers around us touching, staying in contact through feeling each other. Not in a sexual way, but by just being next to someone. When Noam became close with another girl that year, and began to date her, I almost felt free of it. I felt like I could move on, and prove everyone wrong. I could tell them I did not have feelings for this man, and I could have a normal relationship with him. no bed included. ... That was until they broke up, and two weeks later we were back to cuddling. One night we were talking, and Noam decided to reenact the scene from the Godfather when Michael kisses Fredo and says "I knew it was you all along". Well he grabbed my face, said the line, and planted one on me. Only, I wasn't so impressed, and I said "That's not a real kiss" so I bent my head up and kissed him softly. Then there was the oh so awkward talk of "Are we friends?" "Are we more?" "Are we friends who kiss?" I didn't want to reveal my feelings for him because all of his responses stated that he simply wanted to be friends. So I agreed, and we went back to being friends. ...That cuddle all the time.

When we started living together the year after that, the space between our rooms shrunk to six feet. Noam would often sleep in my bed. If he had a nightmare I could count on my door cracking open, and having him slip right next to me. It was comforting. I would make pouty faces if he didn't want to stay in my room for a night. Eventually during out dumb arguments I would tell him I didn't care where he slept. An hour later, I would hear my door crack open, the bed would shake slightly, and his warm arm would wrap around me. Guys are weird.

However, I had to hide my feelings because I had to be his friend. His best friend. His best friend that would give him advice about the women he was interested in. His best friend that would encourage him to be brave, ask her out, yes go dance with her, no it's fine we can cancel plans, go make your move. I had to be the best friend that heard the phrase "Can I ask you a question?" With that phrase, every time, it was as if a little spark flew up from my stomach to my heart in the hopes that I would hear the question I wanted. Unfortunately, the question was always about someone else.

We became intimate my senior year. He was interested in other women, and I became crazy. I will not lie about that. I went through his phone to see who he talked to, I watched as he spoke with other women, I cried and screamed and told myself that I was not enough. I became miserable. This was not healthy, and I have already made a promise to myself that I will never, ever do that again. I am not that person anymore, and that part of our relationship was appalling. When I couldn't take it anymore, I broke down. I had some drinks, and began to cry. I fell into the bathtub and Noam came in asking me to not do this to myself. He asked me what was going on and all I could say was "You broke my heart".

After that I wrote him a letter telling him that I had fallen in love with him, and how I felt about certain situations we had been in. I truly tried to heal myself. We stopped being intimate, and we told each other that we never wanted to lose each other as friends. We had a final party in our apartment before the three of us moved out. I got very dolled up in the hopes that like our other parties, Noam would look at me and want to be with me. However, a woman Noam had been heavily infatuated with attended. This woman was someone I could not stop comparing myself to for months, and even now it's sometimes hard for me to stop. She is a radiant beauty, and intelligent to boot. Eight years our senior her grace fills a room, and yet, I always wondered why she went on dates with him. I always wondered why she felt so at ease in a room full of people eight years her junior. She is a wonderful person, but I do feel that at the time, (she might still be, I haven't seen her in some time) she was holding onto a part of her youth that made her feel beautiful and worthy. Having someone look at her like that I assume, made her feel special, and like she was not alone, like she had numerous options and great power.

He walked to her car and I saw him give her a passionate kiss good-bye right outside my room. As he came to get me to return to the party I lashed out at him in a fit of mascara-stained tears. Screaming, and telling him to get out. I had felt betrayed. I left the next morning for a day to myself. We did not speak for a few days. I constantly felt sick, and I can say that was a terrible time. Finally, I talked to him and I told him that I all I wanted was his happiness. That kiss was just simply the last thing I ever wanted to see. I told him I wanted him to be happy, and we went back to being us again. We stayed distant, and simply focused on our friendship. Because Noam is my best friend, and that will always remain true.

When it came time for us to move out I was extremely sad, but also ready to focus on myself. I needed to find time for me. I needed to see the beauty within myself and see that I am indeed a beautiful and amazing woman. Noam was still my best friend, I just needed my life to not revolve around what he was thinking, or who he was being romantic with. I needed to be free. When I moved into my new place I felt very free. I saw Noam every week, and we hung out like we used to, and things were great.

Then he slept over one night, and the room pulsed with the electricity between us. Then it did that again, and a couple other times. We said we would stop, and we did for a while. Until one day he told me that he was attracted to me. This simply knocked me off of my feet. I was extremely confused. It had always been that he liked being intimate, never that he liked being intimate with me. ...

As we were apart, more and more strange occurrences kept popping up. I'd see certain looks, when I went over to his house, he would make me food, he'd pour my drink for me, he would give me little compliments. It was all very strange.

One night we ended up kissing in my car, and he looked at me and said
"Are you going to get a boyfriend in New York?"
"I don't know...", I said.
"Well you deserve it", he said.
"...I know I do."
He chuckled.
"What? It's taken me a long time to get to a place where I can say that. I deserve it!"
Then he smiled, nodded, and kissed me.

Yes I know this is totally weird and fucked up, but love is weird and fucked up like that.

Later that night we both sat in my car in front of his house. We talked about relationships, and other things I don't remember. Then he said something I had not heard in some time

"Can I ask you a question?"

Pause.

"You can say no if you think it's a bad idea."

Pause.

"... Do you want to go out?"

PAUSE.

... "Yea, I'd really like that."

I didn't really know what to do after that. I texted my girlfriends telling them the shocking and really, truly, unexpected news. Noam and I were going on a ... date


I have loved Noam for a long time. Only realizing it this past year, and fully processing what this means. I don't know why I kept going back and forth with him. No wait. I do. It's because I still had that small shard of hope inside of me. The hope that he felt something for me as well. Which is why I constantly felt crushed when that piece of hope was constantly being chipped away to a smaller, and smaller shard. In my opinion, I think Noam has had feelings for me for quite some time. I think that his mind needed to process what was going on, and why he kept coming back. Why he wanted to be near me in not just a friendly way.

So, we went on our first date.

I was completely nervous. Was I putting myself out there to be hurt again? What if he asked me on a pity date? Will we be ok?

So I just had to pray to God and Beyonce for strength. The entire way there I just said to myself "You are Sasha Fierce. You can do this."

We sat in a nice Italian restaurant. We talked about late night talk shows, politics, held hands, saw a funny movie, and went back to his place. We watched Conan O'Brien, and cuddled on his couch. I remember he kept looking up at the screen and then down towards me, then up and down, up and down, up and down. I finally met his gaze and there was a pause, and then he kissed me. It feels funny saying that we had a first date, but we did and it was really magical.

Then we had a second where he was unsure about his feelings for me, but we agreed on a third. Then a fourth, then a fifth. Then we finally agreed that we should just be in a relationship together.

I don't know how it happened. I guess he finally woke up and saw how goddamn great I am for him, and I stopped caring about what he thought all the time. I don't know what caused it, but I can say that I am so so so so grateful for this change.


I prayed a lot during the time in which we were beginning to date, and channeled Sasha Fierce too. I guess I didn't want this to not work out. I just wanted it to finally happen. I just wanted to be happy with him, well, because I knew I could be.


Guess what? I so am.

I am so completely in love. He really is an amazing person, and a wonderful partner. I think he had to work on some things himself, and while I do get insecure because I know him so well, I usually get proven wrong by his actions and affection towards me.

I feel so lucky. I feel so lucky that I have remained strong, and independent, and I need to have my own sense of security to even muster a shred of security with him.

He came home with me for Christmas, and we said I love you to each other on Christmas Day.

I cannot even express how blessed I feel right now. How much I watch for what I do or say to others for fear that Karma might take away this beautiful gift.


All of this may sound very cheesy, but there is nothing more torturous than when you're in a situation where you cannot say or express how you feel to someone you are so deeply in love with.

To be able to have that freedom is something words cannot accurately describe. To have no more malice towards myself is something I will treasure forever. To not be freaking crazy over another person, and learn to be me, puts everything at ease.

Also, to know what I want, tell him what is not going to work, tell him how I feel about everything good and bad, is freeing beyond all measure.

I'll be honest, I would be really nervous if he were to read this post because it is extremely intimate. However, this is something I have needed to write for a long, long time. This is something that I have been wanting to say. We have had a rocky year, but it ended really really well. I'm letting go of the bad to embrace the world of good rushing into my life right now.

I am in love with my best friend, and he loves me back. La vie est bonne.

Last night...

Was my first date ever.

As we walked goodbye to my car in the early morning hours, I held a soft warm hand.
And kissed soft kisses on even softer lips.
Received kisses on my cheek, neck, and fingers.
Rain sprinkled so lightly it felt like fairies were scattering little shining smooches all over our faces.
Winter wind pushed us closer.
And that was just the good bye kiss.
The ones before that were even better.

We're going out again on Saturday.

The beginning of the night...

...Was much better than the end....

A few nights ago I went out with some co-workers for three-dollar Guinness night at a local bar. The prospect of Guinness being 3 dollars a pint was just heaven, and I kept talking about it throughout our shift. My co-workers and I started off the night by going to one seedy bar at the end of the downtown stretch. At the seedy bar they purchased two pitchers of cheap beer. I, having the pitcher in front of me, proceeded to constantly fill my cup back up when it got to the halfway mark. Ergo not really knowing how much beer I had consumed by the time we went to the second bar.

Amongst my co-workers I am the youngest. One co-worker in particular had caught my fancy since I had started to work there. We invited him out, and I was more than excited when he came with us. This man is well beyond taken, so the prospect of me even thinking about flirting with him was off limits, but I still really wanted to get to know him in general. He has been my first crush since an on and off very complicated and emotional situation with someone I gave my heart to fully. The fact that I had even had a crush was more amazing and precious to me than he’ll ever know.

My friend Nick met up with us at the 2nd bar. All of us were talking and having a great time, then one co-worker left. So it was just Nick, myself, and let’s call him Frank because he has some baby blue eyes. The three of us began chatting, but Nick had to leave because he had class early that morning. So after that it was just Frank and me. I was a bit worried things would get a little awkward. I always worried about whether he caught me looking at him from across the store, or about my awkward beginnings to our short conversations in between customers. Despite these concerns, and to my surprise, we talked with ease. We discussed movies, books, music, but we also talked about our families. He spoke about his girlfriend, and how their move back to Santa Cruz was hard on him. We agreed that we loved the city life, and how the city remained alive and vibrant no matter what the time was.

Then he bought me another beer. This gesture made me feel really special because in a college town this is a rare act. Plus, I am not used to having male attention in general. Having a drink purchased for me was just so nice even in a purely platonic conversation. We continued to talk. We talked about our families and told each other personal information, but it didn’t seem like it was too much, it just seemed like we understood. It took us by surprise when the lights turned on in the bar to tell everyone to go home. So Frank and I got up and walked outside. I told him which direction I was walking, and then he just said “Ok” and started walking with me. Yes, Frank walked me home. Another gesture that is just so beyond nice. As we walked we kept on talking, and everything just felt so perfect. I thanked him twice for walking me home, I gave him a big hug and we both said how nice it was to hang out. When I got upstairs, my roommate was in bed reading and I told her all about my night, and what a gentleman Frank had been. I was on this kind of high because of how nice the night was. So I got online to check my Facebook of course.

Well I was looking online to see if there was anyone to chat with, and I had noticed that a new friend of mine was on. He is much older than I am and an ex-boyfriend of my good friend Amanda who is 10 years my senior. Let’s call him Joel, after Billy Joel, who is an avid fan of younger gals.

Well being a new friend of mine I initiated a chat with him because on Facebook there’s always that awkward “who’s going to comment first” phase. I said to him how I was happy we were friends, and I told him about my night of drinking. He said he had just been to a concert. Then he asked me if my best friend Bill was my boyfriend on my profile picture. … Interesting. I said no, and then he did something quite unexpected. He told me I was cute. Like I said, I am not used to male attention. I mean when a guy calls me cute or gives me a compliment it takes me off guard. So I got all flustered and said a big thank you to him, not expecting anything else. Then he said, “Well cute isn’t the right word” and I said, “Well what is?” and he replied “Beautiful”. Well that had done it. I was completely in flirtation mode. After that he had talked about getting a beer some time, and I, who had never been on a date said, “Sure that could be fun”. I told him how I didn’t live too far from the bars, and he asked where I lived. I wrote my address, and then he said he’d be right over.

I don’t know where he got the idea that I was inviting him out, or telling him that I wanted to date him, but he suddenly started talking about going out that night. I told him that it was a bit late, but then he suddenly became very persuasive. I’m not really sure why I said what I said next, but I told him, “Well if you come over, all you’ll get is a make-out session” I don’t know why I typed those words, but I can honestly say that I was not serious about them. I was simply flirting, and it was fun to play around with a guy, and have him want me. So we talked about him coming over, and I told him the info, NOT expecting him to actually do it. I was certain we were joking. I even told him it was creepy that he wanted to come over, but then he had persuaded me that it was just funny. So we were chatting about the thought and he said "Be right over", I said “OK haha”, then he left the chat. I was really confused. ... Until I heard my front door crack open.

Everything was all fun and games until he walked through my door. The minute this man cracked open my door, everything became too real, and I discerned that he had taken all of my words seriously. At the time and a couple days after, the situation felt very strange and invasive. However, now that I view the situation it has become quite funny to me. My experience just makes this guy seem like a yoga loving, spiritual new age, trying to cling onto the last bit of his youth, piece of scum. When he walked through that door our age gap told the story.

Let me paint a picture of this glorious scenario in your mind.

I was sitting at a table that rests right behind my couch typing away on my computer. Then I heard my door crack. I didn’t even know my door was unlocked. I looked up and saw the face of 42 year-old Joel. My eyes became wide, and I said, “Oh my god Joel, I can’t even believe you’re here!” Keep in mind I was still pretty drunk. Then I said, “This is hilarious, I can’t believe you’re here.” Me laughing, and Joel looking confused. Joel responded “I know it’s so silly” Then there was this awkward pause, and I said, “Um well do you want to sit and talk on the couch?” He said a bit shamefully but with a glimmer of hope in his voice “Sure that sounds nice.”

FYI, I live in a two-bedroom apartment that houses three 22 year-old girls. I have one roommate and one housemate. For us it’s home, but this is not a place where I would bring someone for a late night rendezvous.

We don’t have much money, so things don’t coordinate that well. Four cinder blocks and a piece of wood hold up our TV, most of our artwork it tacked up on the walls, our lamps don’t match, nothing matches really. So, this is not the sexy seductress lair Joel might have been expecting. As I pointed him over to our $90 couch we got off of Craig’s List half covered by a bed sheet my mom gave me, I asked him if he wanted some water. He said sure. So I went to the kitchen to get him some. Looking at all of our mismatched dishes, Disney mugs we use for bowls, and our uneven cups, I chose the classiest cup we had, a Budweiser pint glass, and filled it with water from the sink. “I hope you don’t mind that it’s tap.” He didn’t seem to care. So I moved over to the couch, wearing my over-sized, full of holes, Fraggle Rock t-shirt I’ve had since high school, and my pair of blue shorts I sleep in every night. Perfect “seduction” clothing of course….

Joel and I sat on the couch, and I said, “Um, so well, where are you from?” Then he said “New York”. I got excited. “Oh no way! I’m going to move over there next year when I get more money! I mean I’m working right now so I can save up.” I was obviously the kind of career woman he was looking for with that statement. He asked me where I was from, and I told him southern California. I explained that I had moved to the desert my freshman year before high school…. 8 years ago. I told him how I loved Santa Cruz, and how graduating felt really great. I think it should have been apparent from that moment that I was just starting out on my life, and that he was trying to save his.

Then he said, "So where is your roommate?" and I replied, "In our room." "Oh wow so you really do have a roommate." he said as if he couldn't believe I was telling the truth. It seemed like he was disappointed we could not have a room to ourselves and a bed to share. He mentioned how he practiced massage, giving hints about being physical. Bored, I got lost in thought while he talked. I thought about how unappealing this man in front of me was. I mean he has a kid! Where was his child? Did he just drop everything and leave him alone, to come here? Pathetic. I thought about how nice Frank had been before, and then I thought about the man I love. I remembered him and how I felt with him. I thought about his eyes, his kiss, and how I miss his touch. How he lingers in my dreams, and how I would much rather have him on my couch than this tired shade of a man.

Joel noticed I had become quiet and exclaimed how the situation we were in was kind of awkward. At that I said, “No just kind of funny right now.” Then he asked why I flirted with him that night, and I said "I don't know. I'm not used to male attention, so it was just nice being complimented." I don’t know how, but apparently that was a cue for him to make a move, “So it would be bad if we made out huh?” he said. I, not even thinking about making out with this wrinkled, lonely, insect said, “Yes, Amanda is my good friend, and … I think you’re a bit too old for me.” He said, “How old do you think I am?” In a way that suggested that he thought I would guess much lower than his real age, and that he would go with it. I replied dauntlessly “Well, I saw the year you were born on Facebook, so I know how old you are.” Defeated, he just said “oh” and there was a pause, and he replied, “I should probably go huh?” I said a fast “Yes”.

So I walked him past my “Bad Kitties” calendar, took his Budweiser cup, and turned to say good-bye. He went in for a hug, and it felt like he was going to try and kiss me so I turned my cheek away enough for him to get the message. As he walked out of my apartment he turned back with this sort of pained expression. The only way I can describe it is a little deer that hadn’t gotten his way. A little, annoying, sexually frustrated, stupid deer. Well as he gave me this look I slowly closed the door, saying in a singsong voice, “Bye Joel.” The little deer looked lost, and afraid.


The next day I had to tell my friend. Even after he left I was already contemplating the email I would send to her, and remembered I needed to pick up some food she had made for me. I took a mental note to tell her then. The next day, I woke up with the realization of what had happened, and with whom I had been flirting. A wave of embarrassment, betrayal, and just plain confusion hit me as I lay in bed that morning. I had to tell her. I could not let this be a secret. I was not that kind of friend. I thought about calling her, but I decided I needed her to hear my story in person. I was thinking about the right words to describe my situation as I walked to her door. I let myself in just like she had requested, and she came bounding down the hall greeting me with her beautiful presence and love. She told me my food was in her car, and she was meeting with someone quickly. So I came back as they were finishing up.

As she was getting some food she said ”So tell me about this beer buying guy last night!” I replied, “I need to talk to you about something.” Then I proceeded to tell her about how Joel and I had flirted online, how I gave him my info, how he had come over unexpectedly, how I was completely not ready for anything like that, how I told him I would not betray my friend, and how our ages were too far apart for me to be interested. I’m not gong to lie I was worried that I would be to blame. When I told her what happened her face scrambled up and she went “Oh my god, that is just disgusting. I am never speaking to him again!! Oh my god. I am so sorry you had to go through that. What a creep!” A wave of relief washed over me. She understood!

See Amanda knows me. She knows how shy I am with men. She knows how I have been intimate with only one man. She knows that I have no idea what to do when it comes to male attention. She completely got it. She also knows Joel. She dated him for six months, and when I told her the story with every detail, she would often say “That is so him. I know that look. I totally know what you’re talking about.” So I was just so relieved that I was not to blame. I told her that I did flirt with him, and gave him my information, but I was not expecting him to actually come over.

Flash-forward to the next day, I get a message from Joel on Facebook saying how sorry he was, and how he was embarrassed for his actions. He asked me whether he should speak to Amanda about the situation or whether it was between us. I wrote him back saying that I had no hard feelings about the situation. I mentioned that he was awesome but our ages were too far apart. I also mentioned that I had already spoken to Amanda about what had happened. I think I hit a nerve when I mentioned his age because in his response he replied that "For the record" (this phrase was used in every response of his from then on) I was not honest or taking responsibility for my “flirting and teasing” him.

Then I found out he had sent Amanda a message too. Stating that I had initiated a chat with him last night giving him my address and telling him to come over. Uh, what? He also mentioned to her that he was stupid, and that I flirted and teased him. Amanda sent it to me. When I read it just felt like I knew who this guy was. Yes, I initiated a chat with him, but the chat started with “Hey hey hey! We’re friends on Facebook now!” I did not initiate the chat with my address and specific instructions for him to come over. No. I don’t think I even mentioned anything good about him during our conversation. So that night of the chat when I heard a crack in the door five minutes later. I was shocked. And when I heard that I was being blamed for “teasing” him and "making" him come over, I was disgusted.

I am not the kind of woman that seduces a man in the middle of the night to come over and hook up. Especially a man 20 years my senior. I was completely taken aback when Joel walked through my door. I mean, if really was trying to "tease" him over to my place, you'd think I would have put something a little different on than my Fraggle rock t-shirt. The thought is just laughable for those who know me. I am extremely shy when it comes to the opposite sex. I was in love with the first and only person I’ve slept with, and I didn’t do anything with said person until four years after we had met. I am not the one-nightstand kind of woman. The thought of even sleeping with anyone but said first time man, is not even in a realm of possibility. I had no intention of kissing Joel, and I think he just got hurt over how strong I was in the situation. He was not expecting a drunk 22 year old to tell him he was too old for her, and walk him out. He was also not expecting her to tell him that he shouldn’t have even come over in the first place, and I’m sure he was not expecting her to tell him that "For the record" she wishes him the best in life. But I do. I wish him the best in whatever he does, and I hope one day he can see that I was not the one who needed to be reminded to act their age and be the responsible adult.

This entire situation made me realize one thing; I am so much stronger than I thought. I had the courage to say no when someone was trying to take advantage of me. I had the power to turn someone away, and confront them when they accused me of lying. I had the efficacy to be twice the person they were. I admitted my faults within the situation, and I told him his as well. In this degree, I am truly proud of myself for knowing that I deserve much better than Joel. I deserve someone my age who will cherish and love me because I am that wonderful. So now I realize I have always had the strength to choose what I want, and not just say yes hoping that my actions will make me more desirable or loved in another's eyes. I already know I can be desired and loved, and that someone, someday will think the world of me, and not just make me a late night assignation.

I smelled it last night.

My favorite smell. It blew into work like a scarf flying in the wind, and took me by surprise. The sharp, cool winter air. The air that makes me think of home. The air I’ve loved since a small child. The air that tells me I’ll need my coat. the smell that says any day now I’ll be drinking hot chocolate, lighting candles, covering myself in blankets, and smelling sweet smells of cinnamon, vanilla, and nutmeg. The smell that taps me on the shoulder and reminds me to buy gifts for my loved ones.

Some of my fondest memories have been from smelling that air. I remember smelling it one year when I was in middle school. I don’t remember what grade I was in, but we were living in an apartment in a town called Sunland. Our apartment was the biggest one in the little complex, but that really isn’t saying much. The complex was at the dead end of the street and it was composed of seven apartments. It was blue with chipped paint and clouded paneled windows that were slowly inching their way out of their individual frames. We had an apartment on the first floor. My brother and I would often forget our keys so we would break in through the windows. First we would climb the fence, and then came the tricky task of popping those little panels of glass out of their individual frames so we could slide through the window and go open the door. I think we broke about four throughout our entire time of living there.

I spent many nights staring through that same window, longing to break free from my little town. My bed was right next to it. I loved to lean against the wall and feel the cool air on my face as I slept. I remember one night I wondered why my favorite smell hadn’t arrived yet. It was early Fall and it had rained a lot before so I was expecting it to come. An after rain smell and the smell of winter are very different. My smell is crisp and cool. The scent in the air after the rain smells earthy. I love it, but it’s the winter air that welcomes the rain and really makes me dream.

That night I climbed in bed and stretched out my arm to turn the little knob to the right of the window. I cracked it open and that's when it hit me. The smell of the most beautiful air in the world. It was crisp and so full of welcome. I breathed it in and got chills. I furiously turned the knob until the window was completely open. Covering myself in my blankets I laid in bed looking at the night sky and smelling the air. I remember feeling so happy and so in love. This air was like my mom’s hugs, or my brother’s smile, it was like the warmth of my grandmother’s house, or the laugh of my father. This air made me feel alive. I looked out my window and thought about my dreams. When my air comes back into the night I dream. I dream about my future, and all of the things I want to do in life. I think about possibility, and take any struggles or walls blocking me out of the way. Nothing can defeat me.

When my air comes home I smile, and think about how much I love life. How much it didn’t matter that I was living in circumstances where we lived on Tap Ramen for a year, or we had to have court ordered visitation rights with my father in the back of his truck, or the fact that my aunt was slowly becoming a darker shade of her old self. None of that mattered when my air came back. He is my first love. All that mattered was how much I had yet to do in the world, how much I was going to accomplish, and how my big dreams could fill up the night sky. My air and I fell asleep and we danced with each other in my dreams all night.

So you can imagine how I wasn’t expecting him to arrive so soon. I was at work cashiering at the register next to our juice bar, so not too close to the door. There was a period when no customers were at my register, and I caught a sharp wiff. Shocked I spun around and my eyes grew large as I looked outside, excited at the thought that my air was finally back. “Oh my God” I said. My manager walked by, and I said “It’s winter soon! It smells like my favorite smell!” By this time I was already at the door trying to find it again. And my manager was with me trying to sniff him out too. But alas, just as fast as he had snuck up on me he was gone. I smelled him a couple more times before we went upstairs to close, and was confused as to why he didn’t stay longer. When I walked outside after work, I caught a faint smell of him lingering, but the downtown streets covered it up with dingy sidewalks and loud cars.

I just figure that he’s not ready to come back yet. Maybe this was just a token of affection. He was sending a message to tell me that he hasn’t forgotten me, and will be back soon. He does travel quite a long way, and I’m sure there are many other young girls who love his smell too. I’m willing to share. However, when he returns he will be mine and I will be so happy. Oh, I can’t wait to dream again with him swirling around me.

Woe is me ...

I want a better job. I'm lucky to have one, but I really want to stop scraping by all the freaking time.

Things I want to buy right now:

Movie Tickets

Food

Plane tickets to Greece, Italy, France, Spain, England, and India.

Magazines

A vegan ginger cookie from my work

Toilet paper

Beer

New dresses

New Jeans

New blouses

Earrings

New shoes

Makeup

Movies

Season 5 and 6 of Dawson’s Creek

A stand mixer

A juicer

New workout clothes

Books

Gas

Places I am currently looking for new housing and jobs:

New York

London

Things I need to pay off:

Parking Tickets …4 of them

My credit card

My overdrawn account which should be overdrawn in about .... a day.

My car

My school loans

My roommate for lending me money for our security deposit.

Things I can buy/pay off:

None of the above

The day I have paid everything off in my life will be a beautiful day.

My life is great, I am great, and I am so lucky to be alive. I mean that.

A Beautiful Moment...

I remember a moment in Middle School when I was in 8th grade and I was walking down the hall near the art classes. I don’t remember why I was there, but I had Mrs. Smith for art that year. My 6th grade year I had Mrs. Buchanan and out of the two Mrs. Smith was always preferred amongst students. Mrs. Buchanan was a very strange woman. She was very tall and had a large structured face, a chin that reminded me of Jay Leno with the build of Julia Child. She had shoulder length hair that was black but had become overrun with gray hairs fighting their way to claim their rightful place. Like they had been waiting for so many years to finally revolt and conquer her head. She had short bangs that were usually crumpled at the top, small eyes, and large lips. She talked very loudly and abruptly, and once you were in her class it was apparent that if you were not a true artist you were not favored. I worked very hard in Mrs. Buchanan’s class. I sat and listened while she taught us how to draw faces, while we built felt puppets, and when she gave my assignment a C because my self-portrait was not my best. However, I never connected with her. Before class I waited in the hall and peered into the other classroom right across from hers longing to be in there instead of the tan boring room I was about to go into.

Mrs. Smith’s room was alive with color. She was a short African American woman with a round face, a huge smile, and personality that was full of life. I remember looking into her classroom and wishing I could be singing and listening to her laugh. Well two years later I was in her class. It was great too. Everything I had hoped for and more. She sang to people on their birthday. She would have the birthday student sit on a stool and she would try to out do her last larger than life production of “Happy Birthday to ya!” My birthday was over the summer so I never got to sit on the stool.

Mrs. Smith was kind. You didn’t need to be an artist to be in her class because once you stepped foot in her door you automatically became one. She respected every student, and let their own abilities shine through their work. It did not matter whether your drawings were just like the model, it was yours and unique, and beautiful. She made me feel special. However, Mrs. Smith was not the teacher between my two art classes that made me feel the most worthy. This surprisingly came from Mrs. Buchanan.

Jr. High was not a time in my life when I felt beautiful. The people at my middle school had already begun to have sexual relations with each other by the time I was in 8th grade, and I had only had my first open-mouthed kiss with a boy the year before. I was not popular or unpopular, I was just me. I was not skinny, I was in the middle. I had friends, but I didn’t stand out from what I could tell. My after school activities consisted of walking to my brother’s elementary school to hang out with all of the kids there. I played handball with them, I talked with his teachers, and I helped out. Then my brother and I would walk home and we would hang out and watch TV. We usually went outside and rode our bikes or roller bladed.

I was a big bike rider I had two friends, Marlon and Michelle that I would always go out with to bike ride. I remember having so much fun with them. I was not like my other friends who were drinking on the weekend, going to parties, or engaging in underage sexual activity. I was me, I was sheltered, and I was sure as hell not going to get in trouble with my mom. If she ever found out that I did anything like that it would have been bad to say the least. So I really credit my mom’s strictness to me turning out normal and actually going to college. I however, am digressing.

Well it was 8th grade, and I was walking down the hall going somewhere. Graduation was about to happen, and I was moving away from all of my friends. Both sad because I was leaving everything I knew, and excited to have a fresh start. I had known these people since kindergarten, and they knew all of my embarrassing moments.

Feeling pretty to me was not something that came naturally. As I walked down the hall Mrs. Buchanan stepped out of her classroom. She had this kind of lost look as if she were going somewhere but didn’t particularly care about the situation, and I, remembering her class, looked down at the floor. Then I suddenly wanted her to remember me. I didn’t think she would have, and so I just looked up maybe hoping to get a small smile. Well as she passed me she slowed down and looked at me gingerly, her eyes became not small, but kind and full of warmth. She smiled down and while shaking her head she said in a weak voice “So beautiful” and then kept walking down the hall.

I was shocked I tried to smile at her, and looked at her back as she walked past me, but I think the moment just made me unaware of what to do. I thought she had hated me. I thought she didn’t remember me at all, and yet she had just given me the greatest moment of Middle School. I would have never considered myself to be beautiful then. My mother said I was all the time. She called me beautiful every day calling me her “beautiful brown berry”. I would have never thought anyone would consider me to be beautiful apart from my family. I never thought that people even noticed me.

However, I can say that Mrs. Buchanan was the first person that ever made me feel beautiful. So thank you Mrs. Buchanan. Thank you for that gift, and it’s only now that I realize how much I needed it at the time, and how much I cherish it now.

On tension ...

You know those classical Hollywood romances where there’s that one climactic kissing scene with that sweet violin music in the background? You know the one. Two lovers are looking at each other with passion, and they’re spewing out lines that are direct but growing in heat with each vowel. The woman’s voice becomes weak as she tilts her head up, the man’s voice starts to form broken sentences as he tilts his head down. The violin becomes choppier and then smooth and then strikes each moment they get closer. The lovers keep throwing one-liners back at each other until the heat and their strangely tilted faces can’t take it anymore that they have to move into a soft kiss.

Have you ever noticed those kisses?

How the actors heads are tilted so much, how their lips barely brush each other, and then suddenly the kiss becomes more intense by more tiltage of the head. And just when you thought that a head couldn’t tilt up or down any more than that, they deepen the kiss and the woman brings her face down for even more tilting. Oh and then there’s the face rubbing. So it’s not really like kissing. It’s like they kind of rub their faces back and forth like the woman’s lip is a shoe brush or something. “Oh hold on, let me clean your lips with mine dear. It’s romantic.” Oh and then it’s as if the woman will fall on her face if she is not being held by him right there. His lips are literally keeping her standing.

Let me show you what I mean:



See as much as I like those kisses and those movies, they can never beat the British. For me British romances and PBS book to miniseries specials hold a dear place in my heart. I think I get this from my mother, who watches them religiously. If I were watching a random British PBS romantic miniseries and wasn’t familiar with it, my mom would fill me in with the history, telling me all about it whilst expressing how shocked she is that I didn’t know anything about this particular series. She would give me an “Oh Chrissy, no no no, you must watch it”.
I was actually named after a character in one of these adaptations. So, we’re meant to be. I suppose I love them because they’re so heated. No one ever gets along easily. There’s always tension between the two main characters, and it makes for a very interesting encounter. They butt heads, but are equal. I freaking love it. It’s addicting. Here’s what I mean. This scene is one of the hottest scenes ever. In the history of scenes:



I mean come on! Just look at them! They’re all wet, and he’s all confess-y. Plus the way he says that he loves her, “I love you. Most ardently” What’s even better is that she jumps down his neck. Angry and confused because she loves him too. Then when he steps closer to her, and she rejects him, but then just as he’s about to leave it looks like he’s going to kiss her and then forms a pained expression. Oh and then she has to fall back on the pillar to take it all in. Yea take that all in Elizabeth Bennet. It’s just perfection. It’s so British, and it’s so good. I mean this is a heated battle, just think about the sex they must have when they finally do get together. Yes I am laughing at myself while I type this. However, it’s what I find to be way better than the violins and the constant head tilting. I think because it’s honest, and it shows how scary love can be. It shows how scary realizing how much you can care for someone is, and how much you have to look inside of yourself to find the answers after someone screams them to your face. Oh and then there’s this one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqidX_5ZsLg

He’s so hot. Mr. Darcy might be the perfect man because of how flawed he is. I love flaws. He’s attractive because he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s vulnerable yet stubborn. Oh and it helps that she’s so fucking gorgeous too. Oh god and the sun in between them. Perfection. And the walking, and the piano, and the walking, and her face as he approaches, and the walking. It’s glorious.

So see, I love classic Hollywood. I love the soft glow of the women, the cocky men, and the grand scale of it all, but give me the English countryside, conflicts of class, and broody men who finally realize what they want and I am there. I’m a sucker for it, and proud.

So for the Elizabeth Bennett’s, the Jo March’s, the Beatrice’s, the Joey Potter’s, and Hermione Granger’s of the world, I can so relate to you, and your stories are the ones I choose to love the most.

Finally starting and...

I don't really know where to start.

I'm sure a lot of people say that when they first write things like this, but I mean it. I want to be a writer, but I never know how to start my writing. As a young girl I would try to keep journals and diaries, and it would never work. I would be too afraid that someone would find it, tear out the pages, and recite them aloud to all of the people I wrote about. Like a play where all of the characters are of your creation, and the critic you're assigned is the girl you fought most with in high school.

I remember when Harriet The Spy came out in theaters. I definitely went through a "Harriet" phase. I wore a jacket all the time, I had all of my "spy-gear", I made tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches, and I kept a diary. I remember writing about all of the people on the playground, both friends and not very friendly. When it comes to popularity, I have always been in the middle. Never too popular, but never quite unpopular. I got along with everyone really. There were those people who wouldn't really associate with me for their own insecurities, but for the most part I knew everyone and just had my little group of friends. It has been that way since kindergarten. Therefore, anyone in my "spy book" was at liberty to be discussed.

I don't remember much about what I wrote, but I do remember that my words were found. Just like Harriet, my journal was taken, and read amongst my friends, causing them to shun me for a short period of time until I apologized enough and until they forgot about it all. Just like Harriet I remember being hurt, and angry, and for the most part sad. However, I remember learning that sometimes people may not like what others have to say about them, I sure didn't when my friends found my journal, but once I knew what people were thinking I learned an immense lesson right away. This is not to say that by me writing openly about people I know on here will teach them a lesson I'm saying it will help ME look at how I interact with everyone. I'm saying that this little experiment will help me try and find myself.

I'm pretty secure in my being, more about that will come in later posts, but I'm working out some kinks, kinks that everyone has. I just want to try and grab those swirling thoughts from the back of my mind, you know the ones that keep trying to elbow their way to the front? Well I want to take those and comb through the knots. However, I think the reason I have never been able to fully commit to a diary, a journal, a story, or a true path for myself is because I am afraid of the consequences. So I suppose I shall see what happens with this endeavor, and I suppose I shall learn a lot in the process.

My spy phase eventually faded. However, like Harriet I have never let go of the desire to see what makes people who they are, what they find most beautiful in this world, and how wonderful this life can be. I'm ready to slow down and see where I go from here.

It can really only be up.