To The Future

So, for various reasons, as of this afternoon, I have come to the conclusion that Handsome really didn’t care all that much about me at all.  I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that he did feel something, but… those feelings will likely go to waste in my life at least.  He never crossed the line where things start to really count and you can hold on to them…   I doubt he ever will.

I do want to love a man someday though who truly loves me in return…  And so I think I’ll stop calling Handsome Handsome now…  He is good looking, but that name doesn’t belong to him henceforth on this blog.  If I have to refer to him at any point I’ll call him…  something I have yet to invent.  I don’t know.  I’ll think of a name when I need to…

No…  I want to find the man I thought Handsome was (and maybe is to some degree?) and I want to fall in love with him and marry him.   And maybe that will never happen, but at least it’s fun to think he might…  So to the real Handsome out there (provided he exists) I address the following hopeful message:


I thank God for you, wherever you are…  I can’t imagine why God allowed our lives to go as long as they have without letting us meet each other.  Hopefully we won’t be that old when we meet…  But, I don’t understand the point of making us wait.  Perhaps I will someday.

I wonder what you would say about my life right now – what criticisms or suggestions you might make.  I wish you could tell me.  I have a suspicion you might offer some wonderful advice.  But as it stands I will have to navigate these waters almost entirely on my own…  I fear.


…My in laws want us to visit them for Thanksgiving.  No way.  I would love for my son to see his great-grandparents, his uncle and his grandfather but my step-mother-in-law is…  not someone I want him to ever meet…  I worry about what will happen if I divorce Mark.  Hopefully, I’ll find some way to protect him.  I’ll have to.

Miserable day.  Miserable weekend.  Terrible year really…   And I keep having this sinking suspicion we could have Trump as our next president, but I’m hopeful that Hillary can make it work…

I wonder what life would be like under a President Trump.  I have a feeling it wouldn’t be scary in the way we suspect.   I bet one of two things will happen: he’ll be the weakest and most disorganized leader in American history (or near the top of that list) and things will be a mess but not because he’s the next Hitler.  I don’t think he’s that “thoughtful.”  I think it could be a “post presidential” presidency…   A big nothing.  And that’s where things could become truly frightening I think…   We’ll be a very vulnerable country with no real leader.  I doubt he’ll anger heads of state that much because I don’t think anyone will take him that seriously.  Ironically, people voting for him because he seems like a strong man will be the ones who will find themselves the most unhappily surprised.

Or…  he’ll seemingly shock his critics and America will have an odd upswing of sorts.  And it will make everyone question so much…  That is, until his presidency ends and we find out the way he made things “work” for our country and then we’ll totally fall apart and sink to a low that we’ve never seen since the Great Depression.

Anyway, I hope Hillary wins.   In a landslide election…

A Walk In The Park

I’ve decided to allow myself to write about Handsome today.  I’m realizing that I need to trust myself more and I don’t think I’m finished talking about him just yet…  Sorry if it annoys anyone.

And as a side-note, I feel I should also say that I’m quite sure that nothing I write will be understood by everybody I’d like it to be understood by, or sadly maybe even that many people at all…   I do need to work on improving my writing and I’m fully aware of that…  But I utterly refuse to stop trying to be open, honest and authentic.  Disciplining myself to sort through criticism to find the pieces that are useful versus the ones just stemming from misunderstanding is what I know I need to do.

I wrote a blog back in college and into the first year or so after I had to leave…  It was entitled, A Walk In The Park.  I’m sharing this today because I just…  I don’t care anymore.  The more I share about who I am on this blog, my blog, where I allow myself to say what I want, the easier it is and the more I want to do it…

I’ve been trying to figure out what Handsome was doing or is doing, whether that be something lovely and sincere or just a bunch of forgettable rubbish. But, the more I analyze it all over and over in my mind, trying to make sense of it all I’ve come to one conclusion: given there was something beautiful, if he never ever contacts me in person in some way at this point (and so far he hasn’t), then there must have been someone or something that meant more to him than I ever could (and did)…  And if that’s the case then I think that’s wonderful…

I’m not trying to “win” him.  I never was.  I don’t believe in catching people…  I’ve said that before and I really do think it’s true.  People have to make up their own minds about you, and if they choose someone else or something else then it was never going to be great to start with…   In a way it’s not really “personal” per se…  You know?  This was something I learned by dating and marrying Mark.  I used long for him to pick me and there were so many times when I should have just walked away and stopped caring about him, because when he did finally kind of choose me, it wasn’t worth it.  I mean aside from having my son, it wasn’t worth it…  Well, except I did learn a lot, but…  I think overall, aside from my son, it was something I wish I had avoided.  Maybe I’m placing too much value on happiness over a good lesson here though.  I don’t know…

But anyway…  I’m quite sure Mark and I are getting divorced.  Last night we drove around trying to put our son to sleep and it hit me what my life might be like when I leave him.  It is disconcerting, but I can’t go on the way I was.  I was just letting my body and get older day by day, waiting for death.  Seriously.  I know that sounds terrible and dramatic, but it’s true.  I had given up on ever being genuinely happy ever again.  Have I written this before?  Maybe I have…  Sorry, if that’s true.  I think I was just…  floating…  like I’ve written.  I didn’t want to ruin my son’s life.  I didn’t want to bother upsetting people…  And that’s a sin.  Isn’t it?  Suicide is a sin, even if you’re still technically living?  And if pursuing someone when you’re still technically married is a sin then it all makes sense to me…  Sin begets sin.

My blog that I linked to is filled with my thoughts on Mark…  Gosh, I loved him.  He’s lovable.  Too bad I didn’t listen to the knowledge inside myself that I think I already knew back then…  but I didn’t want to: that he was never going to love me the way I needed or wanted and may not have loved me much at all.  It was I who was in deeply love…  Me.  Just me…  But I kept hoping and trying to be optimistic about every damn little thing – believing him when he said he loved me instead of letting his actions really inform me.   I should have been entirely letting go…

I’ll never do that again




In The Ocean

I have a peculiar relationship with money.  There were the woes I experienced as a youth, growing up in the lower middle class (or perhaps even slightly less fortunate) in a well off community – my peers all having expensive things that I often felt ashamed not to also possess.  And then later when my parent’s deeply troubled marriage went totally sour, that summer when I told my father I planned to go to college where I really wanted, my mother and I lived in a battered women’s shelter for six months…  in a dangerous neighborhood.

Going from west Bloomington, Minnesota during the late 1990’s and early 2000’s, to a neighborhood where stabbings and shootings at night were common was… an experience.  But that was the last place my father would have looked for us and as long we were brave and minded our own business we were relatively safe.   I had always wanted to spend a semester abroad in college…  but those six months in that ghetto feeling on the outside of so many things were an equally eye opening contrast to where I was from.

Then it was back to being surrounded by relative affluence for four years at a respectable private Christian college…  It was safe.  You could take walks at night in the beauty of the Pennsylvania countryside, under the stars.  But I always felt out of place as I did in high school if I didn’t “look the part.”

When I met Mark I was living with my mom, who was doing well considering what she had recently lived through with my father, and I was clinging to my last strands of willpower to try to “make it” and succeed.   But we lived tastefully.  My mother was raised well…  and she knew how to enjoy beauty without having to pay an exorbitant amount.

And then, as things became more serious with Mark I met his family. Previous to that I had always been very well liked by my boyfriends’ parents, but that was when I was still on the “right” life path…   Before I had been in college and was trying to become something at least a bit prestigious…  When I met Mark’s family I was a college drop-out who worked at a coffee shop.  And they were kind enough to my face, but in reality, they thought I was entirely unacceptable.

I remember being accused of being lazy and I’m quite sure they thought I was just a gold digger.  Some likely even thought I was very stupid…  But, of course, Mark was an alcoholic womanizer and when I tried to confront that, especially in light of their views on me, all hell broke loose…   There was no way a pathetic little bimbo barista could possibly be telling the truth about such a nice young man.

Mark loved it.  :)  All the anger and frustration he had ever felt towards anyone in his life was channeled through my many angsty and scathing emails and other communications.  All he had to do was watch and when the dust settled he could take choice pieces of my rage and claim them without too much of a reaction from anyone.  I had cleared the path. “Yeah, she was right about that dad.  I have been an alcoholic.”  “Yes, our relationship has been bad, dad.”

Then there was the issue of the engagement ring…  I won’t go into all of it, but suffice to say, even though we got married he never proposed.

We visited Ireland with the intent of becoming engaged.  Then Switzerland.  And finally we traveled to the UK…  after we were already married.  And on all those occasions I was promised a vacation where Mark would make up for the pain and at least give a beautiful proposal.  But, alas, he never really did except for once or twice when he managed to mouth a few words  when we had a pretty ring and I begged him to…  For example, in London we went out to a beautiful dinner that he had planned, we had a lovely ring and he brought me to a spot outdoors at night where he was going to do it, but instead he suddenly “felt cold” and asked to go back to the hotel…   I begged him to just propose and get it over with – we were already married and were going home soon.

Aside from the beauty of all those places and how much I adore travel, they were actually quite hellish experiences.  And on more than just one occasion I threw my ring away…

Once I threw an engagement ring in the ocean (as I’ve previously written about).  And then once I dropped one randomly in the street in London when Mark wasn’t looking.  There were a couple I flushed down toilets.  I threw one out the window of a moving car into a ditch.  When Mark pulled over and went to look for it the police stopped and interrogated him to see if he was drunk…   He wasn’t and when they found out what had happened and what he was looking for they used their flashlights to help him.  Well, to be honest that happened twice…

And each time I did it, it was because I was jealous, but not in some useful way.  I was angry because Mark had always given money the love and respect I wanted him to give me.   The rings weren’t tokens of his affection and if they had been I would have been loathe to lose them, even by chance.  They were ugly reminders of all of the heartache in our relationship.  Throwing rings down toilets, in the ocean, and in ditches was my way of saying “fuck you” when my words weren’t being listened to.   And as embarrassed as I am by all that money being wasted when it could have helped someone, it felt good to finally be heard.

…Still no call or text from Handsome…  And maybe I won’t even write about it if he does, just for my own privacy…  At any rate, I have a suspicion I know what’s been going on.  But I refuse to write about it…

And I’ll write a review of a fragrance later today.  I’m looking forward to that.




More Sadness

I feel better today, oddly.  I am a little sad, but that’s largely because I’m realizing just how really rare the kind of man I’m looking for actually is.

Most straight or bi men (men who date women) I’ve met are either: total actual assholes (which contrary to popular belief is not attractive beyond first glance if at all), sorta-jerks who aren’t completely terrible but who you also don’t really want to be romantically involved with for lots of common sense reasons, the variety who lack at least some imagination and can really appear like genuine losers on occasion but are not, men who seem lovely and caring when you meet them but are actually fairly emotionally caustic after a while, men who are lovely in some real way but are also truly taken or if not with someone then are mostly uninterested, and those who are quite frankly too old to date (beyond ten to fifteen years is too many in my opinion).  And that’s most men I’ve met…   Sounds cliché?  Probably.   But it’s the truth of my experience…

The precious few who haven’t been in one of the categories above I always have very unfortunately let slip through my fingers…  There was a guy I met on a train, a friend of Mark’s…  and a young man who approached me at a concert…  just to name a few of the few.  But I was always so stupidly distracted by some other man when they showed up (or in the case of the man on the train he just scared me off) that I missed my chance at happiness.

Some of the situations really make me mad when I consider them…  Once when Mark and I were at an Arcade Fire concert I felt so hurt by what Mark was doing and saying that I walked out of the concert and just stood outside the doors in misery.  I had given so much effort to look pretty that night but it was just a complete waste, in part because Mark made me walk outside in heavy rain without an umbrella for a long distance.  And then, as I stood there waiting silently, a man came up to me with this sweet silliness and lots of confidence and said, “Hey hun.  Are you ready to go home now?”  tilting his head to the side for added emphasis.  We giggled together after he said it and then we just stood there…  and he looked at me with this gentle smile waiting for a response.  I don’t remember entirely what happened next but I told him I couldn’t exchange numbers (I was on a date with someone else) and he came up with this rather magical way we could find each other before having to leave with his friends.  It involved agreeing to meet somewhere…  and he was so excited as he invented it.   I worry passionately that I might have even partially agreed to it…  He seemed so genuinely excited (and yes I can tell if people are being serious in person) and he kept saying we should really try to find each other…    And, at any rate, I remember telling Mark about it all later, expecting him to be jealous, upset or at least to reward my loyalty but he didn’t seem to care that much.  And yet, I still went home with Mark…  I still married Mark.

What the fuck?!

…I mean, I’m sitting here crying as I think about that guy…  Mark has never made me cry in this way once.  Again, I admire and respect my husband as a person but if he ever wants me as a permanent partner he’ll have to learn how to make me cry in this wonderful way…

And then there was one of his friends…  That guy always seemed so attentive and genuinely kind when Mark wasn’t.  Perhaps he was just a nice person and was embarrassed by Mark but I often wondered if he secretly liked me…   I wish I’d found out.  I did find him quite good-looking…  But I think he found someone.  I hope they’re happy.

No, I partially deserve this mess I think.  Partially

And just for those interested: if Handsome was just a weird clown then God bless him, or if he was at all sincere then…  I guess what happens next is up to him (as I’ve said before).  But this is the last time I’ll discuss him for a long while if I don’t hear from him.  There’s no good reason to…  I have a lot other things to discuss.

More later…





To Death

It’s funny.  There’s all these wise sayings out there about how when you get older you’ll allow less crap to just continue.  I have found that to be true, but I’m not sure if it’s because of growing older or if I’ve just heard the idea so many times that I’m starting to implement it.

Today it appeared like Handsome might have been trying to encourage me to text him.  Yet, perhaps that was just wishful thinking on my part…   I did text the number it seemed that he had called me from a while ago (assuming that was actually him who called me) but he hasn’t responded.

Assuming he might read this, I would like to tell him that I’m done flirting with him in the same place where I’ve been doing so for a while now.   I feel like I can’t be real or vulnerable with him there to any degree that allows for things to go further (if they even can to begin with).  For me flirting beyond the first sparks can’t be a pastime.  I have to be able to fully give myself over to it sooner or later or it feels dull to me or at least I become inhibited and lost…  I’m sure for some people such activities or anything similar can be just for fun, but I’m just not made that way…  I suppose there could be benefits to being less innately intense than I am, but…  that doesn’t make me a different person.

Whether he was trying to just make a joke out of me, was developing real feelings for me, or something in between, I am done with attempting to decipher the confusion. Now, don’t get me wrong, I still find him incredibly attractive and my feelings haven’t changed, but I refuse to keep sorting through all of the shit to discover the tiny grains of meaning that may or may not even be from legitimate affection.

When I said I found some things repulsive the other day what I meant was that…   It had little to do with the other women.  At least not really (although heaven knows I did not enjoy that)…  It was just that it had become crass and harassing with little certain reward.  He wasn’t harassing me.  No…   Not at all.  I felt that he was trying to even be somewhat warm and a bit endearing on occasion (although maybe that perception was just wishful thinking on my part too).   It was the tone of the whole situation that was deeply unpleasant and hostile.  At times he did seem to take my words the wrong way and miss their intent (as did others), but perhaps that’s my fault as a communicator.  Anyway, none of this is meant to be a negative reflection on any one particular person in general at all – just the circumstances.

So, if he felt some connection…  If things were sincere on his part…  he’ll have to find me now.  He’ll have to figure me out.  He’ll have to untangle things to “get me.”   I wonder if he wants to…   Maybe not?

It’s possible I never meant that much to him.  Maybe not.  And that’s ok if that was the case because we all like what we like and want what we want.   But, for the last time, I wasn’t a joke…  Nobody’s authentic attempt at closeness should be treated like a joke.

I’ll be ok though, whether he cares or not.  I always am, whether that’s a good thing entirely or not.  I suppose for my son’s sake it is…  And no, that isn’t written to sound scary, I’m just being honest.  Sometimes it gets frustrating to always pick up and move on…  and then do it again, and again and again and never seem to find what you’re really looking for in almost any way.

Now, for those of you who read this and are Christians, yes, I do believe in God still.  Of course.  But God can’t totally keep us from experiencing grief.  He doesn’t sugar coat life.



Enough Already

I truly have no idea what sort of person Handsome is at this point.  Or what he wanted/wants from me.  I’m really baffled…

One minute I have the impression that he seems to be trying to say that he might have sincerely felt something but then, after that, I am a just a total joke, but then…  Maybe not?   Then after that I might just have been a potential notch on his belt and nothing more?  But then??

And all this has happened while nothing that much has actually happened…   He’s never once actually touched me.

I was trying to be a little quiet about him because it gave me space.  But I had to post this.

Whatever he wanted I do hope he’s ok.  And I’m not sure what to say next because…  I’m not sure which universe my words will arrive in.   Is it one where a sinister and very immature jerk has been manipulating me for some sad reason or one where there’s been something genuinely lovely but it’s been all mixed up here and there.  I just can’t say for certain, and unless he decides to just tell me in some real way I’ll likely never know.   Although, I guess, if he’s just been mean then it’s not worth hearing anymore more from him anyway…

At any rate, I hope he knows that all anger and criticism I’ve showed him has not been intended to be a judgement against him.  If he’s not a monster of some sort I hope he realizes that…  no matter how much someone might potentially mean to you some things do get tiring after awhile, especially when they were serious annoyances at the start.  And even more so when so much is so confused and so damn complicated.

I guess, to summarize, if he’s not just a malicious person he knows my number…  As always.   And, in that world, he may even understand me to some meaningful degree.  On the other hand, if he is just an unrepentant and sincere jerk, well, that’s that.  However, regardless of what’s true or not, I am honestly repulsed by many things.  I say that, again, without judgement but I don’t apologize for saying it either.  …Handsome may even partially agree with me.  But, I don’t know…  I don’t know…  

At some point, I will get totally tired of all of it though.  Empathetic or not, joke or serious, getting tossed around is truly sickening after a while even if you love the ocean and all its waves.




Herba Fresca



A sweet clover and fresh, vibrant lemon open Herba Fresca (Guerlain 1999) leading the way to an aromatic mint note of great exuberance and an earthy herbal green tea.  Into the drydown the florals become more noticeable with a delicate and perfectly mint infused lily-of-the-valley.  Herba Fresca is effortlessly lovely, crisp, and unisex.  And although it is perhaps a mostly warm weather scent, it adds a certain elegant and fresh cheerfulness that can be quite nice all year round.

Top notes: clover, and lemon.  Middle notes: mint and green tea.  Base notes: cyclamen and lily-of-the-valley.

The Truth Is…

The truth is that right now, as I sit here writing this, I feel fairly overwhelmed.  It’s not in a bad way though.  I even enjoy feeling overwhelmed once and while.  It’s kind of pleasant when there’s a feast of emotions laid out before you waiting to be experienced and sorted through.

I know I said I wasn’t going to talk about Handsome, but…  I also added “I think” at the end of the paragraph where I wrote that for a reason.  Well, anyway, I was moved by him today…  It scares me how much he can “get to me” because I still don’t know what he’s really thinking about so many things and it’s such an amazingly complex situation.  But, I’ll just keep listening…   To a large degree what happens next is up to him because he knows more than I do about the overall state of things…   I think.  If this is a dance then he’s the one leading right now, as far as I can tell…  I’ll just keep my eyes open, I suppose…

Thank goodness it’s earlier tonight as I’m writing these thoughts.  I often post these journal entries much too late in the day.  Tonight hopefully I’ll actually get somewhere on Instagram…   I miss a lot of people on there.  I’ll also post a review (finally) for Herba Fresca…




I think I’m going to have to stop talking about Handsome for a while…   He’s become kind of a conundrum.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean that as an insult to him at all.  Sincerely.  Quite the opposite actually…   The moment I think he might just be kind of a mostly heartless ass in regard to me, he surprises me and then I get confused about who it is I’m dealing with exactly.  It mixes me up…   So, for the sake of trying to give myself room to breath and ponder things, I’m going to go silent about him on this blog for at least a little while.  I think.

I will say that while I have felt the need to stand up to Handsome lately I hope he realizes that I’m not trying to genuinely disrespect him in any way in the process…  I just can’t let him attack my family…  I just can’t.  No matter how alluring his blue eyes really are.  Nope.  Can’t do it…

Overall today was odd and yet kind of lovely…  in a peculiar way.

On the lovely side, one of my friends on Instagram sent me a very generous bottle of perfume she found in Germany recently on a visit there and it arrived in the mail today.  It is divine!  I’ve never smelled a jasmine in my life that I like better…  I can hardly wait to review it.  If she reads this post: thank you Amanda!  You’re amazing!

However, apparently there’s been an outbreak of scammers calling people claiming to be the IRS lately and today they called my dear mother.  They claimed that she had violated some law and that there was a warrant out for her arrest.  It should have been obvious right away that they were full of nonsense, but for some reason they caught her off-guard and became belligerent when she tried to get off the phone…  Eventually, I grabbed the phone from her and then they yelled at me too.   I started asking too many questions though and they finally just hung up after a while.  Then we had a good laugh about it once we both calmed down.  But it was…  weird.  They were great actors.  I have to give them that.




Tonight Mark and I went to our Irish pub.  It’s become the place we go to just sit and talk.  He always orders root beer and I usually have a gin drink or a Stella.

I love Mark as a person.  I just love him…  :)

We just have so much fun sitting around and talking.  Not as lovers (I always feel the need to clarify that) but as…  something.  I can’t find the right words for it.  I almost want to describe it as the sort of bond perhaps found between two soldiers but…

The song West Coast was playing while we sat there chatting…  about our potential divorce, and our lives over the last week or so.   It was kinda funny.

One of the things I’ve recently decided is that I want to finish my degree in history (my original major before political science), and of course try to write in some capacity…  Mark is very supportive of that.  He says that even if we get divorced he feels like he needs to keep the vow he made to me and, in this case, he wants to make sure I can provide for myself…  He sees the promise he made on our wedding day as being something he will always keep in one way or another.  He’s a man of his word.  Isn’t he something?!   I told him I want to honor him in the same way…

Our sort of marital loyalty fits with my family culture very well.  We (my family) are predominantly Norwegian in our ancestry and while we are very much Americans there’s a need to honor our family’s past.  We do so in a multitude of ways, such as participating in parades, festivals, speaking Norwegian, cooking traditional dishes, and keeping in touch with our Norwegian relatives.  And actually, some of those relatives still live in the same areas of Norway my great grandparents came from…

We really are very Scandinavian though (I think)…  For example, while there are many members of my family (on both sides) who are unusually accomplished people, it’s taboo to discuss such things with any degree of outright pride or almost at all.  Some of my ancestors (great grand uncles and aunts) were even awarded medals by kings for their various achievements…   But we never ever discuss such things without whispering.  I’m actually bothered and find it tacky to even mention what I’ve said here, but I feel I need to to backup the overall point of this post.  That’s just how ingrained this is in my mind…   You never, ever, ever brag (the somewhat boldly positive things I’ve recently written about myself have felt both empowering and very scary to write).

If you do discuss someone’s status or accomplishments (or your own, heaven forbid), especially if they’re in your immediate family, you’re supposed to act like it means absolutely nothing, even though the subtext, of course, is that you are proud of their hard work, skill and effort.   But it’s basically a genuine sin to see yourself as “above” anybody for almost any reason, and if someone thinks they’re better than you it’s considered repugnant, and only a bit forgivable if they earned their status through a ton of effort or unusual brilliance.  Oddly, wealth in general is quietly respected in a way though…  But again, only with a lot of discretion.  And only in a very certain kind of way.

The most important thing to be in my family is tough (in a Nordic way).  Well, along with being kind perhaps.  But really, kindness would probably be seen as a form of strength…


Given the culture of my extended family and the fact that my parents were sincere 60’s hippies and eventually “ex” hippies (my father was a Vietnam protester in the 60’s, considered running to Canada to avoid the draft, and my mother worked as a cook at a hippie health food clinic in Pennsylvania  in the 70’s, etc, etc)…   I have an extraordinarily egalitarian view of the world.   I was discussing this with Mark tonight actually…

I don’t put a lot of credence in social status (as I’ve written).   Aside from the view I was encouraged to take from the way I was raised, I don’t think, based on my own observations, that it’s a good way to honestly “rank” people.  Like I’ve said before, I see too many loopholes and too much chaos in life for status to automatically signify much…  And beyond that, each culture in the world has its own unique qualifications to meet to acquire prestige and who am I to say that my culture’s method is inherently the ultimate in “correctness.”  (And I’m not just saying all of this for some pretentious reason)

So…  the way I evaluate people is based on how much genuine good taste they exhibit.   And to me “good taste” is a complex thing…  It’s at least partially demonstrated by an ability to see beauty (not just physical beauty) and respect it and about having empathy…  And since being able to appreciate beauty and have empathy for other humans are basic human traits that are not limited to any one particular culture I think they’re somehwhat decent indicators of what sort of person you’re really dealing with.

I really did originally think that Handsome was a man of great taste…  When I said that he lacked taste several posts back that was not a very nice thing for me to say, and I feel bad about that now actually.   To me, that’s one of the worst things you can say about someone, and I said it based on a feeling of needing to defend myself and because it frankly seemed at least partially true at the time.  But,  I’ve wondered for a while if part of the reason he may have treated me like one big joke (if he did) was because he thought I was beneath him based his method of evaluating people.  I think he might have thought that because I haven’t accomplished enough, or wasn’t born to a family with enough obvious or immense wealth, that it was an insult to him that I even thought any sort of connection was genuinely possible between us…  Or maybe my writing is just that bad?   Haha…  I don’t know.  These are just guesses.  *shrugs*  And, although I would find that offensive (among other things) I can see where he could feel that way given how a decent number of people see the world, and…  as I wrote yesterday, I knew what I was doing might amount to nothing.  But that was also part of the allure.

At the start, when it seemed he was flirting with me, (it seems very possible now that he was actually flirting with someone else and I misunderstood, and then he noticed me when I started paying  too much attention to him for him not to notice) I was amazed and intrigued by his seeming attention.  And that amazement was at least a fair amount because I wouldn’t have expected someone like him to even notice I existed, much less initiate flirtation – people of his particular sort can too often (but definitely not always or even mostly maybe?) seem to see themselves as almost divinely set part from what I’ve observed.   I thought that if he could see something beautiful in me, especially given the likelihood that he wouldn’t in our culture, and actually flirt with me in a lovely way, then I should investigate it, as I would really with any man who I fancied who seemed to also fancy me.  But I was never attracted to his success other than by how he appeared to be handling it.  But…  anyway…

Again, I see the world in a very different way than a lot of people do, I think.  Each year (and day lately) that goes by I realize that more and more.  And that’s not a judgement against anyone or a compliment to myself, just an observation…

But anyway, I think I need to clarify something one last time.  Handsome, because I am feeling uneasy at this point (and that’s an understatement) and had entirely given up, in theory…  on the off chance that you still read this, if (big if) you want to ever talk with me on the phone for some non malicious reason you’ll have to call me first I’m afraid (and then I’ll know to call you if I can’t answer).   That goes for any other form of interaction too – you first.   And I’ve already sort of been doing this actually…    Otherwise I plan to just treat you with the same respect and distance I would have for the many unknown drivers I pass on the road…  We’ll just be two people who happen to momentarily have crossed paths…  And, again, I truly do wish you well.  Even more than that…

…I think Seattle is growing on me.  I would never have expected that.   I still miss St. Paul and Minnesota.  But, this area is starting to affect me.   It’s getting to me.  I even think late summer is my favorite time of the year here perhaps…   Something about the chill in the air and the leftover beauty of summer is really unique in this state.

Until tomorrow…  and a new review.