Phone fasting and other miscommunication fun times

When my cell phone broke a week ago I was freaking out. I’m notoriously bad at directions and my cell doubles as my gps.  However given the events of this past month, I’m happy to say that it was actually pretty liberating.

For one, given my family’s general disdain for the internet, it was a great way to dodge them.  A limited number of people had accessibility to me.  I gave the house line out to two people- one person I was going on dates with, and one potential business contact.  My best friend didn’t even have the number.

I was able to focus on what was there in front of me.  Less of an urge to waste time and minutes on the phone.  I could multi task better.  The cell was/is a huge distraction.

Today I went and got it fixed though.  My parking ticket was more than it cost to repair it.  Software corruption and I lost all the data.  It’s a pain considering I can’t find the cord to sync my numbers off my computer, but a good majority of them are in my outlook.  What I didn’t have backed up, I’m taking it as a lesson.  I’ve programmed 4 numbers into my phone now.  It feels awesome not being completely chained.  I don’t think I’m going to tell my family it’s back on.

I got home after not having the best of days and saw the dark horse online.  I wanted to let him know about that and about a potential job lead.  I was also a bit concerned about him.  He’s in my thoughts still even with the other dates I’ve been going on.  It is what it is.

He’s got a good heart and I firmly believe he is a good person.  He has a lot of problems and he’s not perfect.. but heh.  We have some similar bad personality traits.

Parking was just another notch in my “I’m getting sick of Southern California” aggravation.  It’s why I’ve been considering other options as well, and why I would optimally like to get a position that I could do remotely.  That coupled with other things that I have going on which I’m proactively working on..

We got into an arguement about my choice in potential career paths.  It was stupid.  I saw his point, but he seemed to refuse to see mine.  I got upset, and admittedly went a bit emo.  Ok, a lot emo.  I should have just walked away from the computer when it started getting frustrating.  I turned invisible but he kept typing.  I want to believe he thought more of me.  I don’t know right now.

Again, there was a meta response.  I should have just agreed to disagree when I saw the way it was heading.  It was silly on my part.  Both of us walked away from the conversation aggravated.

I sent an email (not to him), and went and ate some chinese with my roommate.  I needed it.  Felt tons better afterwards.  Must have been partially my hypoglycemia.

I played some Miss Pac Man on an old arcade machine before heading back.  Got a phone call from the local boy.

I came home and realized even more so that neither of us were completely wrong- but also that text is something just as horrible of a communication tool as it is a grand one.  Things get blown out of proportion and misunderstood.  I understand that I was being a bit of a vagina about things, but I don’t know if he even sees how he may have been viewed as being a dick.  Neither action- or in this case, reaction was right.

I called and left him a message apologizing for my actions- which in a way, may come off as validating my actions as the right one.  It wasn’t meant that way.  Quite the opposite actually.

So dear dark horse, I know that you’re upset with me- and for good cause, and I’m sorry.  I would like to ask you some things.. maybe.. well.. I hope that you haven’t completely written me off yet.  I realize as well that my wording was a bit off.  The way I phrased somethings are likely the reason why you reacted the way you did.. before it got really bad.

You know how to contact me, and I hope you do.

I’m off to do some research.  And here’s a Kodak moment- I’m agreeing with you.  In this case, you’re right.  Score one to you sir.

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One week later…

Ah sportfucking.  Was that what it was this week?  Sunday.. Monday..

Him-in town for a conference. Me-2hrs unloaded boxes into my apartment.  A beautiful hotel.  Serendipity.

Dinner. Movie.  Just vegging out and talking.

Because silly me, I had a good time.  And it seemed as if he did.  But now…

Flashback.. just a week ago.

We were leaving the movie theatre after little had happened.  Mostly just conversation.  He asked me to go back to the hotel.  I explained that I was having a good time, and that I didn’t want to ruin it.  Deep down, I really am a romantic.  It’s completely different when you go in knowing its just for the sport of it.  But when your heart gets a little fluttered, you get stupid.

Logic kicks in.  I explained to him that I didn’t want it to be about sport.  He seemed to agree.  But if that really is all just charm and not real… which at this posting has not been fully verified, then perhaps a major time out is in order.  Or an exclusive dedication to my love affair with the sea.

If you are what you eat, then logically, you are who you fuck.

A little part of me is left with each failed romance.  I’ve gotten better at guarding myself.. and even pickier with suitors and bed partners than one would even imagine.

“Love is a battlefield.  You don’t need to retreat, but you need to keep your shield up.”

But damnit if my eyes glimmered a little at the thought of someone genuinely appreciating me like I want to believe that he did.. that maybe he does.. but doesn’t know how to face.

I date some great men.. in training.  It’s probably part of the reason why release from the textbox world is so surreal.

I read the letters sent to my ex husbands lover (yes while we were still married.. yes somewhere floating online).  I’d like to think that I helped him.  That me coming into his life, and the string of lovers I have has made them better for the next girl.  I’m really a humanitarian, you see.

In the cab on the way to the hotel.. and throughout the days we spent together… when I interviewed the dark horse, I feel perhaps it may have made him really evaluate some things.  Which, as I read, he may be affirming he has a problem.  At least he acknowledges it.  A step in the right direction I suppose.

It’s granted that I would attract screwed up individuals.  I’d be lieing if I said I wasn’t screwed up too.

White knights and dark horses.  More and more true on so many levels.. but I can’t go into all of the details while protecting their anonomity.  It’s not my place to.  Names are unnecessary.  Faces are unnecessary.  Besides this is not a complete look see.  And I think, to some degree, you prefer it that way.

Verses of songs echo in my head.  Of whimsy and heart.  Of the hopeless romantic.  Two words that do not coincidently go together.

Of the girl with sidewalk chalk playing hopscotch in the urban jungle.  Of blowing bubbles in traffic and dancing on the beach.  Waiting for her romeo with robots and wit. (To maybe wise up?)

I sent him a text.  I want to know it’s all alright.  I want to think I fall into the “most” catagory.  I had a good time and I don’t regret my actions.  I learned from them, and I’m far from innocent here.

Every girl- even if just in the back of their head- is looking for that certain someone to ride off into the sunset with them.  They want someone to save them.  They want that white knight, who’s also that dark horse.

Maybe these men aren’t here to save me after all…

Maybe, just maybe…

I’m supposed to help save them.

I wonder what my therapist would have to say about that one.  Taking bets that we both chuckle.  Oh wait, I don’t have a therapist.  Damnit.  I guess I’m just fucked… but not literally for once.

A dark horse and a dark knight

Today was another day of virtual unplugging.  Three nights of partying.  Two major social media events, and one friend’s birthday party.

I really didn’t want to drink much yesterday.  I sipped on Bailey’s and Lambic.  Smoked cigarettes and was not my normal socialite self.  I did talk, but it wasn’t the same.  And although a handful of people at last nights party were friends, many were plastic.  It just wasn’t my scene.

I messaged the dark horse and Big.  Big’s response was silent.. as normal.  He had sent a response at the last party- agreeing with me.  But nothing last night.

The dark horse was my escape.  We exchanged texts for a few minutes before he passed out.  He really is.. genuine.

My best friend called while at the party.  She’d gotten into a car accident.  The police, after looking at the wreckage of her Camry, said she should have died.  A tear ran down my cheek.  I was ready to go home.

There was a burlesque dancer and the party was raging.  I wished that I could have enjoyed it more.  But my mind was far away.. on a million other things.

Dan sobered up and we left the party.  I insisted that the beach be on the agenda before a planned trip with friends to see Batman at the IMAX.

The beach is a cleansing experience for me.  In a spiritual sense.. in a physical sense.  It is my zen.  And it was overdue.

I took all digital means and parked them.   I didn’t care that it was a bit overcast.

“You don’t have to go in you know..”

“Yes I do.”

I walked straight into the waves.  The water was cold but it felt… this is what I’ve been waiting for.

The tide was high and surfers were out.

“I need to get a surfboard and kill that phobia of mine.”

One of these days.  And I began to compile a list of things to buy.  Bodyboard.  Wetsuit.  Yoga mat.  Surfboard.  Bottoms that don’t get pulled off my bottom with each wave.  A few new tops. Rollerblades.  Etcetera.

The tide got worse and all the swimmers got out of the water.  I laid down on the blanket freezing.  Ah, beach.  Siesta.

And my roommate and I just laid and chat a bit.

“What else do we have to do after this?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?!”

“Well besides Batman and nom.  Yeah the whole day is open for whatever.  Doesn’t that feel great?”

The workaholic in me wanted to say no.  The workaholic in me did say no.  But as I laid there with the smell of the ocean and soft beach below me… nothing else mattered.  Zen.  Sweet zen.

“I really hope one of these days one of your boyfriends will bring you to the beach so they can see that smile of yours.. well and how cute you look in a swimsuit.”

I blushed a bit.

“Bah I need to work out a bit.”

We had Indian for lunch.  It was either that or sushi.  We were going to flip the douchebag business card for the decision again.  After days at the beach, I crave seafood.  It’s part of the whole experience.

We arrived at the Imax in the promenade shortly after a few more texts with the dark horse.  I have a date in Portland with a hooker.  I’ll save a bit and visit as soon as I can.

The birthday girl and her boyfriend both were hungover.  The party last night had gone on for a few hours after we’d left.  (Oh, I have tenative plans with the dj this week.)

I could go on and on about the movie itself.  I grew up on it.  But what hit me the most about it was that this was the first Batman movie I had not seen with my dad.  The whole time I watched it, I thought of my dad… some of the quotes that he taught life lessons were from this imaginary hero.

A few months ago I had a conversation with a friend about the difference between Batman and Superman.  Superman was a this golden boy who had the good life all handed to him.  Batman, while also having a bit of a silver spoon, was more defined.  He’s a man of many layers.. of a dark past and even darker present.  Superman was not a super man.  Batman however, was.  In the literal and figurative sense.. because he made himself out to be.

I think it’s probably for these reasons that my dad- who to this day still buys comic books once a week, favored Batman and Spiderman over the overhyped blue caped god.  In essence, he wanted to emulate him.

For once, I was not the ten year old girl with pigtails in that theatre.  Sure I had pigtails on.. I was at the beach earlier.  But part of me was amiss.

My dad… his legacy.

And I held back some tears.

I knew my friends would understand if they knew, but I needed those moments…

I swallowed some air and held onto my phone.

This is a whole new life that’s starting.  It’s… and… and… I just wish he would approve of it.

I called when the movie was over to try to talk to him.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring… answering machine.

Maybe my dad is the real imaginary hero of the story after all.  Silly me in believing otherwise.  I wish he would grow up and see that his daughter is a grown woman who is going to sometimes do things he may not agree with, but that make her very happy.

And now, if you will excuse me, I have to dig out a Batman launcher out of this box of Cocoa Puffs and then maybe hit the Pac Man machine down the street…

3 days of unplugging

Day 3.. (well, technically 4 now since I couldn’t get on yesterday like I’d originally intended…) offline. And while yes, I feen to get on the digital infomation highway, I’m somehow alright. Dare I even say that being unplugged feels a bit nice at that. Particularly for what I’d escaped it for.

It’s a big week in LA, and moving only added to the frenzy.

Two of my supposed friends bailed, and it was just me and my new roommate loading up and packing the Uhaul. It was semi last minute. With the events last week, I hadn’t been able to pack much beforehand.

One nerd. One midget. (In California someone under 5 ft tall technically qualifies as handicapped… I’m 4’11”) Loading a truck. It took hours. Most of it was little things. Only a few heavy pieces.

It was actually his 30th birthday. And he spent it helping me. I feel incredibly blessed that I have such amazing people in my life.

“This only makes me feel old you know?”
“Wait a couple of days before you say that.”

At about 4am, we finally headed out. Thankfully, It was only a 45 minute drive to my new place. We stopped for some gatorade, some smokes and an ice cream sandwich.

“I thought you said you were freezing?”
“I am. But damnit I still want some ice cream!”
“Weirdo.”

I hopped in the Uhaul. The seat wouldn’t move up that far, and I could barely touch the pedals. I saw it could top out at 100. Oh I wanted to find out if it could get there. But I held back.

I was wide awake. My roommate was wiped. Miraculously, I found a spot right in front of our apartment. He headed to bed. I did some homework and then forced myself to sleep.

Sunday we unloaded. It went by alot quicker. I was feening for technology and the ocean. And, nothing against my roommate, but I wanted out of the apartment for the night. It’s a sea of boxes and my gtd is long enough without having to add that to it. I was supposed to go to the Kotaku pre E3 party with some other friends. But that was in a few hours.

We dropped off the Uhaul and grabbed some sushi. The friend of mine texted me that she was busy prepping for E3, so she semi cancelled. I was still considering going anyway.

We went home. He wanted to take some tylenol and nap. I popped online for a few minutes, thinking I may make a mohito and crash out too. My bed is super comfortable. My back was sick of the couch.

And then a touch of serendipity happened. I know quite a few gamers, and a few of them are also journalists. One of them being a very yummy “dark horse” whom I’ve kept missing anytime we were in the same area. I was at the same party as he was about 2 years ago in San Francisco. Still missed.

With E3 happening, I figured he may be in town. And since I’m officially an LA resident, it would be even more so possible to bump into eachother. And it finally happened. Just a few hours after arriving- I had a ___.

I felt a little bad about leaving my roommate. But this was something that had been building up for a long time. And considering it was a weekend, and a Sunday at that, I didn’t think that I’d be able to catch the person I needed for the interview for the article I was trying to write. I’d try to on Monday, if I was able to get online– moving shannigans have taken a majority of my time during the day, and, as I said, I’ve had limited net access.

“What would you want to do?”
“I don’t know. It’s your vacation.”
“It’s work and it’s your city madam. What do you usually do?”
“Well, I usually play video games and hang out at the beach with friends. Mostly social media events lately. So…”

I messaged my best friend and told her he was coming by, admittedly a bit giddy with anticipation. She is my confessional.

“Orly? What’s he look like? Link?”

I linked her his facebook.

“Well… he’s definately your type Jena..”
“Shut up wife. He’s adorable. I can’t help it you have no taste besides AJ.”
“I hate you. But at least it’s not ___.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me wife…”

Yes, thousands of miles away, not even able to see me, and I was caught. We know eachother far too well.

“Love you too.”

He cabbed out to my place- we were going to grab some food and then catch Hellboy 2. In all of the pictures I’d seen of him, he was with people we knew mutually. I thought that he was shorter. I guess I didn’t realize how gigantic that the other people I knew were.

I am pleased to say, he looked MUCH better in person. He is a giant. Oh, how I enjoy tall men. Mmhmm. And Jamie was right. He was sooo my type. We had a couple of smokes outside. I apologized for the mess inside my apartment.

“I literally moved in today.”

I think he thought I was halfway kidding.

“Wow.. holy crap…”

We checked the movie times and walked down to a local Thai restaurant I’d gone to with my roommate a couple of nights prior.

Amazing conversation. Tons of stories. Bobas. Sweet and sour shrimp. My kids got brought up somehow in conversation. I generally make a point not to talk about them with potential lovers. Not that I am ashamed of them or anything, but because it’s a sensitive thing that I honestly don’t think is anything that they need to worry about. So many single mothers are just looking for some paycheck to take care of their children. That stigma disgusts me.

“They don’t live with me obviously.”

But then he shocked me.

“Wait, so we don’t get to talk about your kids?”

Who the hell are you, and where did you come from. And the fact that he’s younger struck me as even odder that not only did he not have a problem with it, but he genuinely did want to hear about them. I was blushing.

“You’re adorable. Now tell me..”

So I told him some nerdy stories about my oldest son.

“He was playing Pacman one day when I called him. He was telling me about how he was going to die… and how he was going to get the chomper. I could hear the music in the background. And then my son screams “I pwnd him mommy. Pwnd Pwnd Pwnd!”

We laughed. We’re both such nerds.

“That’s got to be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

I blushed again. More conversation. Got the check and headed towards the movie theatre. It was a nice night for a walk. San Diego style weather. We got our tickets and sat down. There weren’t many people in there. We sat at the end, near the top. It would have been more cozy, however, it seemed like every single person that wanted to get up and come back chose our row. And then my phone seemed to constantly be going off silently…

We talked quietly through the previews. Lame. Lame. Matrix ripoff. Yawn. I swear Hollywood.. up your game a little bit. This is disappointing.

I had a dress and a short skort under it. The theatre was a bit hot so I pulled the top up a bit. He saw the skort…

“Your body made me stupid.”

I blushed again.

“Oh shush.”
“Seriously, your pictures do not do you justice..”

We talked about the CG. All the movies it seemed were ripped off to make this one. And the inevitable romantic plotline in every action movie.

“Did you ever notice that it seems that they do that everytime. It’s disgusting. Basically it’s for those vaginas that complain they have to go to these movies with their men, and then they can go aww.”
“Yes! Indeed.”

The movie ended, but the conversation continued even more. We had a smoke and started to walk back to my place. And then that talk came about.

So in between errands I’ve had to run, and phone calls.. all the fun stuff that comes with relocating… and now a social media event I’m headed to in San Diego, we’ve been spending as much time as we can together.

He didn’t attend a couple of parties so he could spend the time with me. He was bummed when he had to go to dinner with work instead of out with me. He’s a workaholic as I’m generally attracted to.. but he appreciates me… we enjoy eachother’s company. The lack of drama is something I’m really not used to.

“You deserve it. I’ve been trying to tell you that Jena.” a friend told me.

“When do you go back? You should come to an event with me Thursday or Friday.” I told him.
“Maybe Thursday. I go back on Friday.”
“It’s sold out. I don’t know how you’d get into that one though.”
“I’m charming. We can figure it out.”

So I may have a date to Twiistup. I’m not sure. It depends on a lot of things.. specifically if I can even get a ticket for him, etc.  I still have to talk to some people to see about the official details.

I’m having a good time. Life is grand. It’s just so very busy. This week is full. Next week things should calm down a bit and I can finally get more done. The list is so long right now and it doesn’t feel like I’m making much of a dent. I can only do 1000 things at once. Please take a number- and don’t take it personally if I don’t get back to you right away. I don’t have much time for sleep, let alone much anything or anyone else. I’m sorry.

I’m looking forward to seeing everyone at the events coming up. Until then, cheers.