The Economist has it right.
I don't know how to feel - it's been so long since I was able to be genuinely proud of my country. Will this change things? I hope so.
Check this out - What if the World Could Vote?
Showing posts with label crushes I have. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crushes I have. Show all posts
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Hooray!
The Economist has it right.
I don't know how to feel - it's been so long since I was able to be genuinely proud of my country. Will this change things? I hope so.
Check this out - What if the World Could Vote?
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Romantic or Creepy?
Lex says romantic.
I say creepy.
http://www.subwaycrush.com/
Discuss.
P.S. My blog idol, SO@24, left a comment on my blog today. I feel loved. (And slightly damp.)
I say creepy.
http://www.subwaycrush.com/
Discuss.
P.S. My blog idol, SO@24, left a comment on my blog today. I feel loved. (And slightly damp.)
Monday, October 20, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
538
Are you a hopeless political addict like me? Don't understand a word they say but still want to talk statistical smack? Then this website is for you.
http://www.fivethirtyeight.com/
Let me know what you think!
http://www.fivethirtyeight.com/
Let me know what you think!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Return of the Slack
Astonishment of the day:
Anderson Cooper is gay? And a member of the Vanderbilt family? I'm seriously behind on my facts. Whatever, I still have a massive crush on the guy. Lex has this theory that I like old men (as opposed to my theory that I like oldER) men. But seriously, AC is only 40-ish and besides, how sexy is his snow fox look? Purr....
On with today's REAL post....
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Is it possible that when life savagely thwarts one relationship, it sometimes compensates by allowing you glorious vindication in another? Kind of like an emotional diet, where you substitute giving up points in one arena with indulgences in a separate one? Today it feels like both of those things are true.
When we are hurt by those we love and the relationship breaks beyond repair, most of us secretly hope for the day when the person who wronged us will come crawling back, begging for a second chance. This desire is, more often than not, motivated mainly by an almost undeniable need both for closure and also for the knowledge that we made our best effort possible to keep the relationship in a working state. If the person who wounded us comes back for another chance, it displaces much of the blame for the relationship's demise from our shoulders onto some deficiency in the other party, in timing, or in life as it was then. It is, in effect, a final chapter in a very necessary catharsis that will otherwise take months of self-analysis, self-abasement, and regret to overcome.
I was never lucky in this regard - exes never came crawling back, begging for another go at it. I either had massive blowouts with the needy/emotionally abusive basket cases I unfortunately attracted (Ryan), or else I hurt the guy so badly by breaking up with him that he never wanted to talk to me again. And of course then there's Raf....well.....there's Raf. The only middle ground was the men I flirted with but with whom I was never in a relationship - these men tended to return time and time again for their fix of borderline romance, although most of them have since evolved into very platonic male friends.
[On a separate note, why is it so hard for me to make proper friends with women? I am somehow deficient in this arena and try very hard not to be, but to no avail. As a result I'm usually the woman who blossoms into a socialite when surrounded by men at a party but clutches her drink awkwardly as her foot repeatedly finds its way into her mouth when amongst a group of women. Argh!]
But now, as my birthday approaches (eek!) it seems that relationship karma is finally making its overdue house call - its delay probably exacerbated by the distance it had to travel from Raf's corner of the globe all the way to mine. In a weird twist of fate, I am being sent overseas for work and will be staying in the same city as a childhood friend with whom I have a complicated history (Ah, you thought perhaps there was only one? You were wrong, my dears. Very wrong).
Flashback:
Hayden is just your run-of-the-mill gorgeous, European, dark-haired/light-eyed, six foot six kind of guy. He's also single at the moment. We've known each other since we built tree forts in our yards way back in the day. Our parents were good friends, so we spent a lot of time being bored at dinner parties and coming up with way to entertain ourselves at the kids' table. (Wet napkin throwing contest? Noodle fight? So many options...)
Eventually my family moved away from our old stomping grounds and I would only see Hayden once every couple of years. When we were 14, our families went on a joint trip along the East Coast and explored all the seafood and ocean-side mansions it had to offer. Hayden was chubby and had large, round glasses just like his father, and I was a skinny 2x4 who desperately wanted to have boobs like every other girl in my grade. We held hands under the tables at restaurants that summer, and it was the first time a boy had ever held my hand like that. But alas, our families parted ways after our vacation and he headed back to his side of the pond.
Many years later (but before I met Marco) I was about to embark on a backpacking trip with my brother when my parents suggested we stop by and see Hayden's family. I balked immediately. His mother had died a few years previously when he was 16, and he had (quite understandably) become a very dark, brooding, weird guy. I never felt comfortable talking to him after the fact, as he seemed to resent me both for still having a mom and also for not being able to attend the overseas funeral. At the time I wasn't equipped to deal with this irrationality, and so our friendship gradually faded.
This time, however, my parents weren't giving me a choice. Like it or not, we were going out to dinner with Hayden, his father, and his sister. Suddenly I felt nervous. Now equipped with the body measurements I sought after at 14, I felt almost too self-aware of my own sexuality. What would it be like to see him again? Would he still resent me? Would we be able to be playful and upbeat like we used to be? Would he want to be my friend again? I fretted over 15 different shirts and finally picked an olive green wrap-around that showed just enough but was still demure. As I stood on the cobble-stone street, unstable in my stilettos, in front of the incredible 5-story city residence his mother had decorated before she died, I silently hoped for them not to be home.
As soon as the brass clinker had hit the door, it swung open. Hayden's father welcomed us with his infectious laughter and his familiar warmth before we headed out to the latest über-trendy eatery the city had to offer. Hayden was running late and would be joining us shortly. His sister Alicia was already present. As we noshed on bits of over-stylized cuisine, I decided to dash to the washroom before Hayden got there. Hurriedly eyeing the front door, I tip-toed across the slippery slate floor (which, for any of you who regularly wear stilettos, is no mean feat in 4-inchers) and almost mowed down our waiter. As I was coming out of the bathroom, a cute guy in a tight black shirt gave me a wry smile. I returned his glance, my confidence buoyed by his attention, but he wouldn't stop looking at me. In fact, he was following me to my table. Hayden had surely grown into his own. As we said our hellos by means of kisses on the cheek, I felt my face flush with embarrassment. All this time I had been worrying about seeing him, and then I hadn't even recognized him!
As the evening drew to a close, I felt relieved. We had spent most of dinner talking about Hayden's recent trip to Thailand, and when I tentatively teased him about the quite feminine silver arm cuff he sported as a souvenir, he batted at me about my "American-looking" clothes in return. I felt comfortable again, and since we had a few days left before our trip, my brother and I decided to stay with Hayden and Alicia in the city when our parents returned to the United States.
After a few rowdy nights of clubbing, my brother and Alicia decided to go see their respective friends for an evening. Hayden and I walked to a laid back bar and sat down for a beer. After laughing and drinking for about an hour I confessed my initial apprehensions, and he told me that he regretted being such a jerk over the last few years. Suddenly all of my own regrets came pouring out of me, and I teared up when I apologized for not being able to attend his mother's funeral. He looked at me with the most tenderness I'd ever seen in his face and said: "Babe, I love you. I've loved you since we were 4. You're my best girl - you know that. My mother loved you. We all do. Don't worry so much."
Later, as we walked home a little tipsy, he slung his arm around my neck and nuzzled the top of my head. As I climbed the steps to the 5th floor guest bedroom and brushed my teeth that night I felt like I had found my old friend again. Heady from the alcohol and filled with nostalgia, I tiptoed back down the stairs and knocked on Hayden's door. "I just want you to know I'm glad that mfhhfhhdddghgh" .... my words faded into nothing as he pulled me in and kissed me.
During the subsequent backpacking trip with my brother, I kept getting text messages from Hayden: "I miss you.....my sweatshirt still smells like you.....let me know when you're back in the country....I love you.....I'm so glad we're friends again......etc."
Since I was about to embark on my year and a half studying abroad, I wouldn't have the chance to be back in the country until halfway through my first semester. Shortly after my 20th birthday I sent him a text message: "I'm back for a few days. Let me know if you want to get a cup of coffee." No reply - which was weird, since I was staying with his dad for duration of my visit. I never heard from him. As I was leaving for the airport I told Alicia I felt sad that he hadn't written back.
SaN: *sigh* Half the time I seriously don't understand what's going on in his twisted brain.
Alicia: It's too hard for him to see you. He misses you all the time and can't handle the idea that you're so far away. I think he has a girlfriend now and didn't want to upset you.
SaN: Seriously? When did this happen?
Alicia: I don't know, he probably met her at some party. Look, she'll last maybe 2 months. We both know you'll be my sister-in-law in 10 years' time. That's what mom would have wanted, and that's what we all want, including him. Just let him be a stupid boy. He'll grow out of it.
I felt confused. What was the point of re-establishing emotional intimacy if he was afraid to be without me? He should have just kept it superficial in that case. It began to dawn on me that Hayden and I still weren't on the same emotional plane. Oh well. It had been 2 years since Ryan and I exploded into oblivion and I'd had my share of ups and downs. I wasn't going to let anyone ruin my time abroad. With this in mind, I headed to the Mediterranean for 6 months, then Northern Europe for another 6. When I finally returned to the US, Marco and I had been dating for almost 8 months.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
So, that's the last I had heard of Hayden. When I found out that I would be going to Europe for work for a week or so and would be in his city, I called his dad to see if I could stay at their place. No luck (he doesn't check voicemail or email - weird, I know). Apparently he had been super busy at work and hadn't seen my note that I was coming by in about a week. With no resource left except for Hayden's cell number, I dialed hesitantly but tried to sound confident.
Hayden: Hello? Hello?
SaN: Hayden? You there?
Hayden: Hello? Yeah, hey.
SaN: Hey, it's SaN - you got a minute real quick?
Hayden: Not really, but go ahead.
SaN: I'm in the city for a couple of days in about a week. Think I could crash at your dad's place?
Hayden: Shouldn't be a problem. Try him on his work number.
SaN: Ok will do, sorry to disturb
Hayden: Yeah, talk to you then. Bye.
I hung up feeling like crap. Why did he have to be so grouchy? He hadn't talked to me in well over 3 years - couldn't he at least take a minute to catch up? Now he was just being a regular old narky asshat.
While I was at Marco's this weekend I got a text message:
Dear SaN
Sorry for my kind of weird and short and not fun conversation, but I was right in the middle of moving into my new apartment. I live alone now, so if it doesn't work out with my dad's place you can always sleep here. Either way we're going to go do something fun. I do hope to see you/talk to you like we used to soon.
Now I have a question, readers: WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT LAST LINE MEAN? Please, somebody de-mystify the male mind for me. Is he gunning for a hookup? Is he being platonic? Is he just a bad grammarian? What does "see you like I used to" mean? Tipsy and in heat? Unnghhh.
Other than the aforementioned confusion, I feel a little spot of weirdness blooming in my stomach. Obviously nothing will happen because my love life already has an incumbent, but I'm not quite sure how to act around Hayden now.
The only thing I can assert with confidence is that his ship has most definitely sailed. He had his chance and blew it. We may have been great for each other, but in the end the timing didn't work out. You may think it's trivial, but I think it's a big part of whether or not people should get together. You can't sit around your whole life waiting for another person to grow into the person you want them to be. Then you end up with someone like, well, you know...
And thus sweet vindication makes its world tour stop in my backyard. I may never get the chance to see Raf come back, but I sure as hell feel good knowing that Hayden has regrets. Does that make me evil?
I think it makes me human.
Anderson Cooper is gay? And a member of the Vanderbilt family? I'm seriously behind on my facts. Whatever, I still have a massive crush on the guy. Lex has this theory that I like old men (as opposed to my theory that I like oldER) men. But seriously, AC is only 40-ish and besides, how sexy is his snow fox look? Purr....
On with today's REAL post....
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Is it possible that when life savagely thwarts one relationship, it sometimes compensates by allowing you glorious vindication in another? Kind of like an emotional diet, where you substitute giving up points in one arena with indulgences in a separate one? Today it feels like both of those things are true.
When we are hurt by those we love and the relationship breaks beyond repair, most of us secretly hope for the day when the person who wronged us will come crawling back, begging for a second chance. This desire is, more often than not, motivated mainly by an almost undeniable need both for closure and also for the knowledge that we made our best effort possible to keep the relationship in a working state. If the person who wounded us comes back for another chance, it displaces much of the blame for the relationship's demise from our shoulders onto some deficiency in the other party, in timing, or in life as it was then. It is, in effect, a final chapter in a very necessary catharsis that will otherwise take months of self-analysis, self-abasement, and regret to overcome.
I was never lucky in this regard - exes never came crawling back, begging for another go at it. I either had massive blowouts with the needy/emotionally abusive basket cases I unfortunately attracted (Ryan), or else I hurt the guy so badly by breaking up with him that he never wanted to talk to me again. And of course then there's Raf....well.....there's Raf. The only middle ground was the men I flirted with but with whom I was never in a relationship - these men tended to return time and time again for their fix of borderline romance, although most of them have since evolved into very platonic male friends.
[On a separate note, why is it so hard for me to make proper friends with women? I am somehow deficient in this arena and try very hard not to be, but to no avail. As a result I'm usually the woman who blossoms into a socialite when surrounded by men at a party but clutches her drink awkwardly as her foot repeatedly finds its way into her mouth when amongst a group of women. Argh!]
But now, as my birthday approaches (eek!) it seems that relationship karma is finally making its overdue house call - its delay probably exacerbated by the distance it had to travel from Raf's corner of the globe all the way to mine. In a weird twist of fate, I am being sent overseas for work and will be staying in the same city as a childhood friend with whom I have a complicated history (Ah, you thought perhaps there was only one? You were wrong, my dears. Very wrong).
Flashback:
Hayden is just your run-of-the-mill gorgeous, European, dark-haired/light-eyed, six foot six kind of guy. He's also single at the moment. We've known each other since we built tree forts in our yards way back in the day. Our parents were good friends, so we spent a lot of time being bored at dinner parties and coming up with way to entertain ourselves at the kids' table. (Wet napkin throwing contest? Noodle fight? So many options...)
Eventually my family moved away from our old stomping grounds and I would only see Hayden once every couple of years. When we were 14, our families went on a joint trip along the East Coast and explored all the seafood and ocean-side mansions it had to offer. Hayden was chubby and had large, round glasses just like his father, and I was a skinny 2x4 who desperately wanted to have boobs like every other girl in my grade. We held hands under the tables at restaurants that summer, and it was the first time a boy had ever held my hand like that. But alas, our families parted ways after our vacation and he headed back to his side of the pond.
Many years later (but before I met Marco) I was about to embark on a backpacking trip with my brother when my parents suggested we stop by and see Hayden's family. I balked immediately. His mother had died a few years previously when he was 16, and he had (quite understandably) become a very dark, brooding, weird guy. I never felt comfortable talking to him after the fact, as he seemed to resent me both for still having a mom and also for not being able to attend the overseas funeral. At the time I wasn't equipped to deal with this irrationality, and so our friendship gradually faded.
This time, however, my parents weren't giving me a choice. Like it or not, we were going out to dinner with Hayden, his father, and his sister. Suddenly I felt nervous. Now equipped with the body measurements I sought after at 14, I felt almost too self-aware of my own sexuality. What would it be like to see him again? Would he still resent me? Would we be able to be playful and upbeat like we used to be? Would he want to be my friend again? I fretted over 15 different shirts and finally picked an olive green wrap-around that showed just enough but was still demure. As I stood on the cobble-stone street, unstable in my stilettos, in front of the incredible 5-story city residence his mother had decorated before she died, I silently hoped for them not to be home.
As soon as the brass clinker had hit the door, it swung open. Hayden's father welcomed us with his infectious laughter and his familiar warmth before we headed out to the latest über-trendy eatery the city had to offer. Hayden was running late and would be joining us shortly. His sister Alicia was already present. As we noshed on bits of over-stylized cuisine, I decided to dash to the washroom before Hayden got there. Hurriedly eyeing the front door, I tip-toed across the slippery slate floor (which, for any of you who regularly wear stilettos, is no mean feat in 4-inchers) and almost mowed down our waiter. As I was coming out of the bathroom, a cute guy in a tight black shirt gave me a wry smile. I returned his glance, my confidence buoyed by his attention, but he wouldn't stop looking at me. In fact, he was following me to my table. Hayden had surely grown into his own. As we said our hellos by means of kisses on the cheek, I felt my face flush with embarrassment. All this time I had been worrying about seeing him, and then I hadn't even recognized him!
As the evening drew to a close, I felt relieved. We had spent most of dinner talking about Hayden's recent trip to Thailand, and when I tentatively teased him about the quite feminine silver arm cuff he sported as a souvenir, he batted at me about my "American-looking" clothes in return. I felt comfortable again, and since we had a few days left before our trip, my brother and I decided to stay with Hayden and Alicia in the city when our parents returned to the United States.
After a few rowdy nights of clubbing, my brother and Alicia decided to go see their respective friends for an evening. Hayden and I walked to a laid back bar and sat down for a beer. After laughing and drinking for about an hour I confessed my initial apprehensions, and he told me that he regretted being such a jerk over the last few years. Suddenly all of my own regrets came pouring out of me, and I teared up when I apologized for not being able to attend his mother's funeral. He looked at me with the most tenderness I'd ever seen in his face and said: "Babe, I love you. I've loved you since we were 4. You're my best girl - you know that. My mother loved you. We all do. Don't worry so much."
Later, as we walked home a little tipsy, he slung his arm around my neck and nuzzled the top of my head. As I climbed the steps to the 5th floor guest bedroom and brushed my teeth that night I felt like I had found my old friend again. Heady from the alcohol and filled with nostalgia, I tiptoed back down the stairs and knocked on Hayden's door. "I just want you to know I'm glad that mfhhfhhdddghgh" .... my words faded into nothing as he pulled me in and kissed me.
During the subsequent backpacking trip with my brother, I kept getting text messages from Hayden: "I miss you.....my sweatshirt still smells like you.....let me know when you're back in the country....I love you.....I'm so glad we're friends again......etc."
Since I was about to embark on my year and a half studying abroad, I wouldn't have the chance to be back in the country until halfway through my first semester. Shortly after my 20th birthday I sent him a text message: "I'm back for a few days. Let me know if you want to get a cup of coffee." No reply - which was weird, since I was staying with his dad for duration of my visit. I never heard from him. As I was leaving for the airport I told Alicia I felt sad that he hadn't written back.
SaN: *sigh* Half the time I seriously don't understand what's going on in his twisted brain.
Alicia: It's too hard for him to see you. He misses you all the time and can't handle the idea that you're so far away. I think he has a girlfriend now and didn't want to upset you.
SaN: Seriously? When did this happen?
Alicia: I don't know, he probably met her at some party. Look, she'll last maybe 2 months. We both know you'll be my sister-in-law in 10 years' time. That's what mom would have wanted, and that's what we all want, including him. Just let him be a stupid boy. He'll grow out of it.
I felt confused. What was the point of re-establishing emotional intimacy if he was afraid to be without me? He should have just kept it superficial in that case. It began to dawn on me that Hayden and I still weren't on the same emotional plane. Oh well. It had been 2 years since Ryan and I exploded into oblivion and I'd had my share of ups and downs. I wasn't going to let anyone ruin my time abroad. With this in mind, I headed to the Mediterranean for 6 months, then Northern Europe for another 6. When I finally returned to the US, Marco and I had been dating for almost 8 months.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
So, that's the last I had heard of Hayden. When I found out that I would be going to Europe for work for a week or so and would be in his city, I called his dad to see if I could stay at their place. No luck (he doesn't check voicemail or email - weird, I know). Apparently he had been super busy at work and hadn't seen my note that I was coming by in about a week. With no resource left except for Hayden's cell number, I dialed hesitantly but tried to sound confident.
Hayden: Hello? Hello?
SaN: Hayden? You there?
Hayden: Hello? Yeah, hey.
SaN: Hey, it's SaN - you got a minute real quick?
Hayden: Not really, but go ahead.
SaN: I'm in the city for a couple of days in about a week. Think I could crash at your dad's place?
Hayden: Shouldn't be a problem. Try him on his work number.
SaN: Ok will do, sorry to disturb
Hayden: Yeah, talk to you then. Bye.
I hung up feeling like crap. Why did he have to be so grouchy? He hadn't talked to me in well over 3 years - couldn't he at least take a minute to catch up? Now he was just being a regular old narky asshat.
While I was at Marco's this weekend I got a text message:
Dear SaN
Sorry for my kind of weird and short and not fun conversation, but I was right in the middle of moving into my new apartment. I live alone now, so if it doesn't work out with my dad's place you can always sleep here. Either way we're going to go do something fun. I do hope to see you/talk to you like we used to soon.
Now I have a question, readers: WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT LAST LINE MEAN? Please, somebody de-mystify the male mind for me. Is he gunning for a hookup? Is he being platonic? Is he just a bad grammarian? What does "see you like I used to" mean? Tipsy and in heat? Unnghhh.
Other than the aforementioned confusion, I feel a little spot of weirdness blooming in my stomach. Obviously nothing will happen because my love life already has an incumbent, but I'm not quite sure how to act around Hayden now.
The only thing I can assert with confidence is that his ship has most definitely sailed. He had his chance and blew it. We may have been great for each other, but in the end the timing didn't work out. You may think it's trivial, but I think it's a big part of whether or not people should get together. You can't sit around your whole life waiting for another person to grow into the person you want them to be. Then you end up with someone like, well, you know...
And thus sweet vindication makes its world tour stop in my backyard. I may never get the chance to see Raf come back, but I sure as hell feel good knowing that Hayden has regrets. Does that make me evil?
I think it makes me human.
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