September 1st, 2010. 8:53pm
Well, here I am at Starbucks sipping chamomile tea for the second time in 2 days avoiding Jessica (my roommate) at all costs. It's the 1st. I have no rent money. Let's see how long I can ride THIS disaster out... JESUS---!!!RUSSIAN LADY IS SPEAKING SO LOUD NEXT TO ME, CANNOT HEAR MY OWN THOUGHTS! SHUT UP FOR THE LOVE OF JESUS AND EVERYTHING HOLY!!!!
It's not like I'm not trying. I applied for 14 jobs this week and couldn't even get ONE interview for a plumbing company cold calling for 8 dollars an hour. For literal and proverbial shit. Fuck. Me. Dry.
TODAAAAYYYY THOUGHHHH....... :0)
Me, Matt, and went on a hiking trip to Santa Paula to a place in the coastal mountains called the "Punch Bowls." It didn't SOUND like it would be too bad. I guess I forgot what hiking up an actual mountain was like. It has been 13 years since I had to trek up anything like that since the big glacier incident on the ill fated trip to British Columbia during the phase when Dad was trying to teach us about nature. Too bad I was 12, angry, fat, and full of hormones of disdain. Pouring out of my overalls, through my braced up mouth, I complained every step of the way that trip. Since then, my relationship with my father has never really been the same, and I got labeled as the family asshole whiner. I have tried to since live this down. I haven't. Poor Dad. He meant well. But redemption now!
I ordered tea and I really should have gone for the chocolate chip coffee cake. Goddamn it, Kathryne. Stop thinking about sweets.
Anyway, the hike today to the Punch Bowls turned out to be TRECHEROUS. IT WAS SO HARD!!! 7.5 or 8 miles all and all and I suppose I knew about a quarter of the way through that I was in deep trouble. Not only was the sun baking my insanely transparent white skin, but my legs were not NEAR strong enough to handle the steep incline filled with rough rocks, loose gravel, poison oak, and lizards. Then sand! Crossing jagged rocks in water rushing towards us. (With snakes!!!) It was SOOOOO hard!
I had to stop like, 5 times for water and to sit because I was exhausted from the heat, dehydrated, and about to puke my guts out. Muscles so overworked that I had to dry heave. I didn't actually blow chunks, thank god- I would have died. And I blamed the need to puke on the fact that I had two cups of coffee on an empty stomach and that I had just gotten my period. Both true, but not why I needed to pukey puke. We all know what it really was. Fat girl syndrome. Speaking of which- I would KILL for a Reese's peanut butter cup right now... Gonna go to Ralphs after this and eat one while I shop for vegetables, then dispose of the evidence in one of the more random aisles... no harm, no foul, right?
Owen, it turned out, was very helpful as I saw more and more similarities between my father and Matt. Matt powered through almost like a soldier. Head down. Just kept walking through the pain. Well, I suppose maybe I was the only one feeling pain, as these boys grew up with these hikes. But I digress. Matt didn't really stop to help when I stopped. Owen stopped. He actually held my hands over the scary rocks and kept looking back to make sure I was still alive. Owen being 6 feet tall and 105 lbs, I am pretty sure he could not handle my bootyliciousness if I fell on him, but it was kinda nice to see the effort there. Matt only stopped when he had to- or when Owen told him to. You know, it's fine. Really. He's just not a really lovey dovey guy. (It's not fine. I am still sooo not OK with this.) Whatever. We saw the waterfall. Then we ran out of drinking water, which was scary, I started to swell up like a sausage, and I was convinced I was going to faint if I didn't get some kind of hydration soon, but I kept it to myself and didn't complain. Don't complain again, Kathryne, suck it up. Be a man. Be a man. Prove.
We nearly RAN back down the mountain. Mostly downhill. Mat and Owen were very agile, and I felt like an out of shape girly girl with a weight problem. I had to follow through though. I had to. I did. I DID suck it up. I survived! I am so glad I didn't make them turn around. I don't know if I ever want to do that again though. Jesus knows I'll be sore tomorrow. I will be surprised if I can stand upright. At some point during the hike though, I realized I was just trying to prove something. That- you know, I am NOT skinny, but I am also not so fat anymore either. That I can power thru!
We went to Owen's cabin down the street afterwards for water and then to The Habit for food. Matt did pay for dinner for me, which was nice. We usually go dutch, so that was really nice. He probably was worried I would keel over if he didn't put some kind of food in me. And he knows I am too poor to eat out now after all the car repairs for the lemon of century.
After dinner, Matt drove us past his and Owen's childhood homes. I secretly hoped that maybe he would stop and introduce me to his parents. I wish. Ugh. Goddamn it. Maybe I don't want what I thought I did. I don't ever really seem to go after the types of guys that hug and kiss a lot. (Frankly, I was initially pissed that Owen was going on our romantic little hike, but later relieved as all hell he was there because he was the only one looking out for me in that hike and he also really kept the conversation going well. Matt isn't that talkative while sober, I reminded myself today. Again.) I think I love him though. He bought me lunch. And gave me aloe for my sunburn.
And just a snippet from 11/15/2010:
It has just occured to me today that I might be too delicate in stature to withhold the heartless and indecent musings of a full blown depressed alcoholic who has prickly tendencies to begin with. How did we get here? Will it always be like this? I am trying hard not to continue to be disappointed, especially everytime he picks up a drink, I always hope that this will the time he doesn't overdo it. He gets so narcissistic with a dash of deep seeded self loathing when he is drinking heavily. Will it always be like this? It will be if you don't change some patterns here, Kathryne. TOXICITY is the word of the day. And he says he loves me. I think he does. But why does he still talk so all the other girls? It feels like I am number one now. But does the number matter when there seem to be so many potential others he likes to keep around "just in case"? The texting I always wonder about. The facebook comments...I wonder sometimes... I am scared because I am so love with him now. I am meeting his parents and sister in a week for Thanksgiving, and I know that must mean something. It is also my 26th birthday. Another year older, another year wiser? I hope I don't say something stupid in front of his parents. I hope they like me. I hope I fit in. I hope Matt doesn't ever cheat on me. Love is now involved, and I feel like we can conquer anything if we just put our heads together and work it out. It was so sweet of him to ask me to his parents. I can't wait to play with all his pets, too. I feel so starved for unconditional love sometimes. I should get a puppy, maybe...
Friday, April 22, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Big Sky
I've been listening to a lot of Annie Lennox lately, and my love affair with her extremely naked, stripped down, emotional lyrics has not wained in I'd say a good 15 years. Even when I was a child, before I had had my heart broken, before someone had lied to me, hurt me, or not been true, when I was unscathed, I still somehow was mesmorized by her lyrics and related to them...even if I wasn't sure exactly what they meant. I sure do now, I'll tell you that!.... Yeah.
As a little girl, and as an actress from a pretty young age, I somehow...yearned...for that kind of hurt, that kind of deep hurt and heartbreak that are so apparent in her lyrics...masochistic, yeah? It was like I knew that I needed to experience that fall down, life altering love and then lose it to know what it might be like to express those kinds of feelings on stage or screen. I'm not weird. But I do think that this dangerous need for something to draw from has willed me into less than ideal romantic situations. Did I create them? Did they just find me...? Would it have happened anyway? I don't know.
When I was 18, first starting out in acting conservatory in NYC, I remember, in my first class, the famed and respected Darren Cohen was working on my first song assignment. I had played Lady Thiang in "The King and I" in highschool (great casting, I know...but go with me...)- and I had sung "Something Wonderful"- and if you can stop trying to envision me as Asian, try and remember the song. It's pretty fucking heavy. My old musical director used to say it was the hardest song in the show. Lady Thiang is the "first" wife to the King of Siam- among- dozens and dozens of younger, prettier wives. She is a concubine. She gave him his first son though, and being the first, she will always, in a way, be the most important. Anna does not how Lady Thiang can be so true and loving towards her husband who sleeps with many women, and isn't kind most of the time to boot. In the middle of the second act- Lady Thiang sings "Something Wonderful"- and here are some of the lyrics:
"He will not always say
What you would have him say,
But now and then he'll say
Something wonderful.
The thoughtless things he'll do
Will hurt and worry you
But now and then he'll do
Something wonderful."
Darren Cohen was sitting across from me, along with the rest of my class of about 20- and he was impressed with my vocal abilities for the musically difficult song. (I had worked on the song for two years with my vocal coaches in high school- it was my audition song to every college- so it was polished to the nines.) He applauded my effort, and me, thinking I had just wowed him, was about to smugly sit down. He didn't let me leave the front. He took a breath and long pause before speaking and said to me, "Have you ever been hurt? Has a man ever really, really, to your core destroyed you?"
And I thought of all my missed romantic connections from high school. Being the make out buddy to many of my male contemporaries, but never the girlfriend. The awkward chubby gal. Sure. That hurt like hell. "Yes. I have definitely had my heart broken."
Darren looked at me and took his thick glasses off. "No you haven't."
Some of the girls in the class gasped. I was shocked. Who the hell was he to tell me that I hadn't been hurt? He wasn't there!! He didn't know what those boys promised me and then never came through with. How dare he! He then used me an example for the class- and I learned an important- and dangerous lesson as an actor. He proceeded to tell me that I had hands down a beautiful voice. And at that point, I had lost my high school chub, so he also told me I had a pretty face, and "looked" like an actor. But I couldn't walk into auditions and sing songs like this- or do monologues for that matter that had this kind of subject matter. Because I hadn't expereicned it yet. I simply was not equipped to play a heartbroken, down trodden, and desperate woman- because I hadn't been through it yet. He was right. And it wasn't until years later- 5 to be exact- that I realized what Lady Thiang was singing about. And what Annie Lennox has been crooning about for the majority of her career. And then something crazy happened.
At 23, I saw what I thought to be at the time- the love of my life- disappoint and fail me so horribly...I didn't think I would recover. As many of us have, yes? This is very vital standpost in life. And that, my friends- is when I started to write. Create my own material, and on top of that, I started booking more acting jobs. Shorts, small things- but in my day, I have also been up for several- what some might call "bigtime" jobs. What I am saying is, of course a lot of this comes with age, you learn, you grow, and it's only natural that I would know more about the industry at 26 now than at 18. But. I am a far superior artist now. Not because of the sharpness that comes with class or good direction. But because of what I have experienced. Simply by my pool of experience. But here is where it gets dangerous...
I am now in another relationship. With a man that I love. And he loves me. We have had our moments- amazing, full of hope and love, and others that have made me question my core beliefs. There is an ebb and flow. And in every kind of different relationship you have, there will always be a new onslaught of problems and joys. Of course. This comes with the territory. But I recently was thinking about standing across the room from Darren Cohen, and him telling me I will never be the actress I am supposed to be until I have had these signposts in life happen to me. And it made worry in a cold sweat today that it is possible that Mr. Cohen has been silently guiding me in my decision making with men for the past 8 years- setting myself up for failure- or worse- sabotaging the very thing that makes me happy, gives me a reason, and possible future. And this scared the shit of out me.
Am I a masochist actor looking for so many feelings and questions and scenarios that I am blind to what is actually happening in front of my face- which is--- beautiful, sometimes troubling, frightening, enlightening, and....vital...? I didn't want to face the answer to that. So, instead I decided to listen to some Annie Lennox to take the edge off. Here is a few lines from "Big Sky"- my song du jour.
"Big sky, I'm gonna hurt you.
Big sky, you'll remember this.
Big sky, up above the rain,
how can I ever put a stop to it,
look you in the face again.
Big sky, I'll never let you go.
Big sky, baby I told you so.
Big sky, look at this swollen pride
I get so busy looking out for you
when you were you by my side?
There's a reason when I'm sleeping
I can't think of nothing else
all my longing
all my waiting
all the things you never felt
all my weeping
all my waiting
all my standing on the shelf
how am I ever gonna get through this?
Look you in the face again?"
The song itself is beyond moving, and I suggest you youtube it to get the full effect here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mpnbfCFBzY
I believe that I am smarter than simply throwing myself into situations of intentional heartbreak to chase a "real" and "true" moment on screen or to book that next job. But it's something that I am starting to be keenly aware of, and am going to monitor...and I encourage all you actors and artists to trace where those first seeds were planted for you and your possibly destructive behavior- as we all have this- let's admit it- wherever it lies. Until then- here's to happy, HEALTHY, and beautiful unions... right? Right. I'm off to dust off a script and listen to ever beaitiful Annie. Feeling...grateful.
As a little girl, and as an actress from a pretty young age, I somehow...yearned...for that kind of hurt, that kind of deep hurt and heartbreak that are so apparent in her lyrics...masochistic, yeah? It was like I knew that I needed to experience that fall down, life altering love and then lose it to know what it might be like to express those kinds of feelings on stage or screen. I'm not weird. But I do think that this dangerous need for something to draw from has willed me into less than ideal romantic situations. Did I create them? Did they just find me...? Would it have happened anyway? I don't know.
When I was 18, first starting out in acting conservatory in NYC, I remember, in my first class, the famed and respected Darren Cohen was working on my first song assignment. I had played Lady Thiang in "The King and I" in highschool (great casting, I know...but go with me...)- and I had sung "Something Wonderful"- and if you can stop trying to envision me as Asian, try and remember the song. It's pretty fucking heavy. My old musical director used to say it was the hardest song in the show. Lady Thiang is the "first" wife to the King of Siam- among- dozens and dozens of younger, prettier wives. She is a concubine. She gave him his first son though, and being the first, she will always, in a way, be the most important. Anna does not how Lady Thiang can be so true and loving towards her husband who sleeps with many women, and isn't kind most of the time to boot. In the middle of the second act- Lady Thiang sings "Something Wonderful"- and here are some of the lyrics:
"He will not always say
What you would have him say,
But now and then he'll say
Something wonderful.
The thoughtless things he'll do
Will hurt and worry you
But now and then he'll do
Something wonderful."
Darren Cohen was sitting across from me, along with the rest of my class of about 20- and he was impressed with my vocal abilities for the musically difficult song. (I had worked on the song for two years with my vocal coaches in high school- it was my audition song to every college- so it was polished to the nines.) He applauded my effort, and me, thinking I had just wowed him, was about to smugly sit down. He didn't let me leave the front. He took a breath and long pause before speaking and said to me, "Have you ever been hurt? Has a man ever really, really, to your core destroyed you?"
And I thought of all my missed romantic connections from high school. Being the make out buddy to many of my male contemporaries, but never the girlfriend. The awkward chubby gal. Sure. That hurt like hell. "Yes. I have definitely had my heart broken."
Darren looked at me and took his thick glasses off. "No you haven't."
Some of the girls in the class gasped. I was shocked. Who the hell was he to tell me that I hadn't been hurt? He wasn't there!! He didn't know what those boys promised me and then never came through with. How dare he! He then used me an example for the class- and I learned an important- and dangerous lesson as an actor. He proceeded to tell me that I had hands down a beautiful voice. And at that point, I had lost my high school chub, so he also told me I had a pretty face, and "looked" like an actor. But I couldn't walk into auditions and sing songs like this- or do monologues for that matter that had this kind of subject matter. Because I hadn't expereicned it yet. I simply was not equipped to play a heartbroken, down trodden, and desperate woman- because I hadn't been through it yet. He was right. And it wasn't until years later- 5 to be exact- that I realized what Lady Thiang was singing about. And what Annie Lennox has been crooning about for the majority of her career. And then something crazy happened.
At 23, I saw what I thought to be at the time- the love of my life- disappoint and fail me so horribly...I didn't think I would recover. As many of us have, yes? This is very vital standpost in life. And that, my friends- is when I started to write. Create my own material, and on top of that, I started booking more acting jobs. Shorts, small things- but in my day, I have also been up for several- what some might call "bigtime" jobs. What I am saying is, of course a lot of this comes with age, you learn, you grow, and it's only natural that I would know more about the industry at 26 now than at 18. But. I am a far superior artist now. Not because of the sharpness that comes with class or good direction. But because of what I have experienced. Simply by my pool of experience. But here is where it gets dangerous...
I am now in another relationship. With a man that I love. And he loves me. We have had our moments- amazing, full of hope and love, and others that have made me question my core beliefs. There is an ebb and flow. And in every kind of different relationship you have, there will always be a new onslaught of problems and joys. Of course. This comes with the territory. But I recently was thinking about standing across the room from Darren Cohen, and him telling me I will never be the actress I am supposed to be until I have had these signposts in life happen to me. And it made worry in a cold sweat today that it is possible that Mr. Cohen has been silently guiding me in my decision making with men for the past 8 years- setting myself up for failure- or worse- sabotaging the very thing that makes me happy, gives me a reason, and possible future. And this scared the shit of out me.
Am I a masochist actor looking for so many feelings and questions and scenarios that I am blind to what is actually happening in front of my face- which is--- beautiful, sometimes troubling, frightening, enlightening, and....vital...? I didn't want to face the answer to that. So, instead I decided to listen to some Annie Lennox to take the edge off. Here is a few lines from "Big Sky"- my song du jour.
"Big sky, I'm gonna hurt you.
Big sky, you'll remember this.
Big sky, up above the rain,
how can I ever put a stop to it,
look you in the face again.
Big sky, I'll never let you go.
Big sky, baby I told you so.
Big sky, look at this swollen pride
I get so busy looking out for you
when you were you by my side?
There's a reason when I'm sleeping
I can't think of nothing else
all my longing
all my waiting
all the things you never felt
all my weeping
all my waiting
all my standing on the shelf
how am I ever gonna get through this?
Look you in the face again?"
The song itself is beyond moving, and I suggest you youtube it to get the full effect here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mpnbfCFBzY
I believe that I am smarter than simply throwing myself into situations of intentional heartbreak to chase a "real" and "true" moment on screen or to book that next job. But it's something that I am starting to be keenly aware of, and am going to monitor...and I encourage all you actors and artists to trace where those first seeds were planted for you and your possibly destructive behavior- as we all have this- let's admit it- wherever it lies. Until then- here's to happy, HEALTHY, and beautiful unions... right? Right. I'm off to dust off a script and listen to ever beaitiful Annie. Feeling...grateful.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
It's not me. It's... yeah, it's me. Shit.
I wrote this a few months ago- and never posted it- but it's all still true- so I am going to go ahead and post it anyway. :0)
Well, I know it has been an insanely long time since I've posted, and maybe, just maybe, I think I've come up with the reason why. Originally, I saw this blog as kind of my journal- When i first started it last year, I used it as a way to talk about my life- poorness, dating, dudes, despair, you name it- the general malaise possibly that is your 20's. Here in LA. Being an East Coaster. Ya know... You've read it, you know!!
So. I figured out why I haven't felt compelled to post. And it's so obvious, hellooo? Right? I have somehow, not really sure how... but somehow...found myself in a relationship. Like. A REAL ONE. Haha, ladies and gentlemen, I seem to have entered- what I would consider to be- my first adult relationship. I certainly have had other relationships, and a super long one (4 years) before this. However, that began was I was 19 and ended when I 23. Then life smacked me real hard in the face. Pretty much as hard as it gets. It ain't an easy thing pursuing your dream, trying to be your better creative self, and keep a roof over your head at the same time in a big, bad, scary city. I digress. Hmm... as I never use actual names in this blog... what shall I call him? Hmph... what would be appropriate? No Drunk Guys or Gay Guys, no. Hm. "Unexpected Guy?" "New Guy?" ...no...I got it: "Movie Guy." Even though the "l" word has been uttered, and yes, I am pretty head over you know what for him, I will refrain from using names like, "Love Guy" or "Sweetie McSweeterson".... I still have my pride. And my wit. ;)
Movie Guy and I have a a bit of a sordid history that I won't hash out here in bloggy land, but I will just say this: After almost 2 years of "kind of but not really" to "bad timing" to "never again" to "maybe he could..." to "uh oh...I'm in love".... we have finally reached that great communication place of, "I like you, let's be together for real and see what happens." And in the 3 years I have lived in Los Angeles, and the three years I have been dating here in Los Angeles... no one has ever gone there with me.
Life in general has become more chaotic I suppose- that hasn't changed- I have moved from 4 different apartments in 5 months,(HA), written a brand new script well out of my general comfort zone of quirky comedy, had and lost jobs..., had my heart close to broken, and then repaired just when I thought there was no hope left. I have become a better communicator in these few years. The main reason I haven't blogged, is because I have been--- gulp--- happy. I have been SO happy. And isn't that a horrible reason to stop blogging? I don't want to just be the kind of blogger that only writes when I feel shitty or have a need to complain. So that ends now.
Between small day trips, endless movies marathons, and my new found love for organic cooking with the boy... it has been a whirlwind 6 months. Also, in this past 6 months, I have had two scripts... get some traction with either production companies or indie producers... we are on the up and up, and it still may take a good few years... but we are on our way to something amazing with "The Lifeboat Sonata" and "Sunny Days Weight Loss"... just a matter of time, and the ball is rolling on both.
In the meantime, with Movie Guy, who also happens to be a writer and incredibly accomplished Director of Photography, I am developing a thriller/suspense film to be shot incredibly low budget. A passion project with immediate friends in the industry... and it's going to be fantastic. My oh my, have I been happy. :0) And that has been a nice change for me. I feel I lost a lot this year. My first car, (I got a new one... a shitty new one, but a new one none the less), my studio apartment, and a few jobs like I said- but those are like water to me- they keep coming- I never worry too much, because no matter what it is that I do money wise, it's never of any importance to me- just something to aid the dream. Just something to get me by. Scraping, but getting by is all I care about. Oh, that and not getting arrested.
So that's me in a nutshell as of late. I now have a whole new set of fun musings now that I find myself OUT of the uneasy world of just dating...into... relationship land... it's exciting and I can't wait to see what unfolds in the near future. I promise to post soon about what life is like once the big question ("are we or aren't we?" ) is over, and the "real" stuff starts coming into the equation. Been awhile, and I am rusty...everything feels so new and foreign...and I am thinking, I am really thinking.... that that is a very good thing. Stay tuned!
Well, I know it has been an insanely long time since I've posted, and maybe, just maybe, I think I've come up with the reason why. Originally, I saw this blog as kind of my journal- When i first started it last year, I used it as a way to talk about my life- poorness, dating, dudes, despair, you name it- the general malaise possibly that is your 20's. Here in LA. Being an East Coaster. Ya know... You've read it, you know!!
So. I figured out why I haven't felt compelled to post. And it's so obvious, hellooo? Right? I have somehow, not really sure how... but somehow...found myself in a relationship. Like. A REAL ONE. Haha, ladies and gentlemen, I seem to have entered- what I would consider to be- my first adult relationship. I certainly have had other relationships, and a super long one (4 years) before this. However, that began was I was 19 and ended when I 23. Then life smacked me real hard in the face. Pretty much as hard as it gets. It ain't an easy thing pursuing your dream, trying to be your better creative self, and keep a roof over your head at the same time in a big, bad, scary city. I digress. Hmm... as I never use actual names in this blog... what shall I call him? Hmph... what would be appropriate? No Drunk Guys or Gay Guys, no. Hm. "Unexpected Guy?" "New Guy?" ...no...I got it: "Movie Guy." Even though the "l" word has been uttered, and yes, I am pretty head over you know what for him, I will refrain from using names like, "Love Guy" or "Sweetie McSweeterson".... I still have my pride. And my wit. ;)
Movie Guy and I have a a bit of a sordid history that I won't hash out here in bloggy land, but I will just say this: After almost 2 years of "kind of but not really" to "bad timing" to "never again" to "maybe he could..." to "uh oh...I'm in love".... we have finally reached that great communication place of, "I like you, let's be together for real and see what happens." And in the 3 years I have lived in Los Angeles, and the three years I have been dating here in Los Angeles... no one has ever gone there with me.
Life in general has become more chaotic I suppose- that hasn't changed- I have moved from 4 different apartments in 5 months,(HA), written a brand new script well out of my general comfort zone of quirky comedy, had and lost jobs..., had my heart close to broken, and then repaired just when I thought there was no hope left. I have become a better communicator in these few years. The main reason I haven't blogged, is because I have been--- gulp--- happy. I have been SO happy. And isn't that a horrible reason to stop blogging? I don't want to just be the kind of blogger that only writes when I feel shitty or have a need to complain. So that ends now.
Between small day trips, endless movies marathons, and my new found love for organic cooking with the boy... it has been a whirlwind 6 months. Also, in this past 6 months, I have had two scripts... get some traction with either production companies or indie producers... we are on the up and up, and it still may take a good few years... but we are on our way to something amazing with "The Lifeboat Sonata" and "Sunny Days Weight Loss"... just a matter of time, and the ball is rolling on both.
In the meantime, with Movie Guy, who also happens to be a writer and incredibly accomplished Director of Photography, I am developing a thriller/suspense film to be shot incredibly low budget. A passion project with immediate friends in the industry... and it's going to be fantastic. My oh my, have I been happy. :0) And that has been a nice change for me. I feel I lost a lot this year. My first car, (I got a new one... a shitty new one, but a new one none the less), my studio apartment, and a few jobs like I said- but those are like water to me- they keep coming- I never worry too much, because no matter what it is that I do money wise, it's never of any importance to me- just something to aid the dream. Just something to get me by. Scraping, but getting by is all I care about. Oh, that and not getting arrested.
So that's me in a nutshell as of late. I now have a whole new set of fun musings now that I find myself OUT of the uneasy world of just dating...into... relationship land... it's exciting and I can't wait to see what unfolds in the near future. I promise to post soon about what life is like once the big question ("are we or aren't we?" ) is over, and the "real" stuff starts coming into the equation. Been awhile, and I am rusty...everything feels so new and foreign...and I am thinking, I am really thinking.... that that is a very good thing. Stay tuned!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Strip Yourself
After having been systematically stripped of everything I thought was dear to me or vital, I think, or I am starting to think, I am on my way to something really, really true. In my life. And true doesn’t mean easy or comfortable, but as human beings, I think we seek truth above all else. Or at least I do. Even when it hurts or burns. I guess, I just want to live truth. Hard as it may be.
It all started about 2 years ago I suppose. I had just moved out to
After he went to jail for smashing my head against a concrete wall, giving me a concussion and a very bruised and bloodied face, I still didn’t leave. Never told a soul the real details, and was too ashamed or prideful to come running home to my parents. Although, I likely should have done that. Instead, once he got out after 4 days, my life became a haze for the next few months. Crying apologies followed by doors being slammed, and pushing, shoving and restraining. Anything that wouldn’t leave a visual mark. Court sessions where I begged a judge to drop the charges, the young, white, female assistant DA, shaking her head at me. Judgmental eyes all around of just another one of “those women.” I was frightened of what might happen if I left, what he might do. What I might be subjected to. All alone in a brand new city with no real friends, no real family close. I was stuck and terrified. I found myself saying things to people that I never thought I’d say. “Restraining order revoked,”, “multiple contusions”, “bloody fist”. I didn’t recognize myself. The once strong, opinionated, feisty young woman I was, I couldn’t even stand to look at myself in the mirror without being ashamed of what I’d become. A battered woman.
The slumlord at our drug riddled, roach infested apartment hit his wife, and cursed at her every chance he got, a drunk. So, in a strange twist of irony, I didn’t have an alibi there, where I should have, I had an enabler. I was trapped. Alone, and not acting or auditioning. I wanted to write, but didn’t know how, couldn’t lift a finger, too sad, too tired, too hard. I was afraid mostly of the things that might come out of me if I were to put pen to paper, what I might actually have to face. No one knew. And this was my penance for wanting to come to LA, or so I thought. Should have listened to Dad and gotten my Masters degree, I thought to myself. Too late now.
After 4 more months of agony- pure and total agony- I finally left him. It was impromptu. I still loved him very much, believe it or not. He was all I had ever known, my first real relationship. My first love, and when that get muddled, even they way ours did, to dire circumstances, it’s still incredibly hard to leave, no matter how strong you think you are. Manipulation and con-dependency must not be dismissed, they have incredible power over people and interpersonal relationships gone south. Only those who have been involved in these types of abusive patterns, whether they be physical, sexual, or emotional, or all 3, are the only ones who know what I am talking about. The world wants you to hate your abuser, but it simply is not that easy. However, I knew if I stayed with him, I’d be dead in a year.
I had long since hidden all the kitchen knives in various places around the apartment, so he could never get to them, and if need be, I would systematically know where a weapon would be close by. I knew this was no way to live. But, like in all abusive situations, it becomes all you know. All you know how to do. I moved out that month, after he begged me to stay, offered a marriage proposal, that he’d change, that he’d find a way to be better. Nothing. Gone.
Then came the house that credit built. I used every last cent I had to live in that new studio in
I find myself now, temporarily homeless with nothing but a car full of clothes, dvds and literature. Pictures, blankets, and shoes. Words. Words are what I have. Words are what I covet, and I have lost almost everything else.
I loved that studio. The studio I could no longer afford by myself. It represented freedom, and the single life. And a symbol of strength that I “did it.” I relished the new material things that I bought with the money I didn’t have. They were masks for me that I was trying on, trying to be an adult with a couch, an adult with my bookshelf and gloriously large bed. It was all STUFF. Stuff that was only mine, no sharing. No more ashamedness. No more yelling or turmoil with men. Just me, my beautiful stuff, the computer and notebooks I used to write in daily to start to develop my quirky writing style, and the people that I chose to let in my life, only when I wanted, and only at certain times. I was alone, single, and fabulous. I was living my own Sex and the City.
After losing my apartment, and everything in it that I couldn’t carry out to my car, I decided that I truly was living a lie. A fakeness had set in, and it was time to remove it. I had long since had my cable/internet turned off before I lost the apartment, and had gotten used to not watching my marathons of SVU and Grey’s Anatomy. I has gotten used to not having internet everyday, and if I wanted it, having to trek to the library to get it. My phone bill had been a late, and then my phone was sporadically turned off and then on again a few times, which was also, what I considered to be turbulent and unfair. But what it really was, was the universe telling me, YELLING at me that A) I could no longer afford my 1,000$ a month apartment that I had come to love so very dearly as a symbol of my strength and triumph, and B) I had become so attached to these… these THINGS- having television to fall asleep to, to the same tired, played out Cop/Lawyer plot, a phone to jab away at for no reason sometimes, calling people when I should be looking for more work, or writing my masterpiece. The couch that I had come to hate, pretty to look at, but uncomfortable and course, the queen sized bed that was too big for me. Too big for one person, with my gorgeous dark, deep purple bedding, a cruel reminder that I spent most nights alone, by choice, in this seemingly ever expanding, vast apartment that was starting to swallow me whole. It wasn’t that I yearned to have someone to sleep with- I did- I had people, I just- since the long, arduous, and scarring break-up 18 months, almost 2 years ago- I just can’t really sleep with people. I can screw them, that’s no problem, I just can’t sleep soundly next to person for some reason. So, I don’t. I equate that to my own intimacy issues that I have apparently now developed since this said break-up with the abusive man. An issue, I am only realizing now that I have. Now that I have moved out of this once dreamed of, this once loved, then hated apartment of mine. Now that it’s gone, and with it, all my furniture, lamps, tables- kitchenware- you name it, one might think I’d be devastated. Hurt, done for, ready to give up. But the thing is- I have never been more relieved.
I have a chance- a clean slate if you will, a chance one rarely ever gets in a lifetime to be FREE. To rid myself of everything material that I don’t immediately need to survive, and start something a little more- truthful, a little more real. After the abusive man, who I thought took so much from me, I fought with myself, I still fight with myself to retrieve it somehow. And the thing is, on the path to doing so, I padded my life- with things- nice things, new clothes, new haircut, new bed, new couch. New life, great life. Untruthful life. Padding. Excess. I did the same thing with men afterward too, to some degree. It’s a very hard thing, trying to fit in, and make everyone believe you are OK, that you are a normal, and happy person, when inside you are screaming from being on fire. What I am saying people, is that look around- even if your shit isn’t that nice- look the fuck around. What do you have? Do you like it? Does it make you feel better about yourself at the end of the day? Does it function in a way that makes your life that much more easy or manageable? Why did you buy it? And do you watch that many episodes of NCIS because you love the characters or because you are numb and need a reason to escape the thoughts, the sometimes scary, but very real thoughts you think at night, when you’re all alone?
Once stripped of everything I thought I needed to survive, I realized that I need close to nothing, in actuality. I move in a week to a new apartment, with roommates, so in a far more affordable situation. I look forward to it with my new sense of how I am looking at the world. When I say I lost everything these past few years, it wasn’t a lie. I lost the man I loved in the worst way one might lose one- a death of a soul, not a person, but the death of who you thought someone was, the betrayal of who you thought YOU were with that person, the life I could have had with him, the life I almost had with him- near perfection, had he not hit. Had he had the capacity to channel his anger through exercise or journals. However, that’s not how it happened, and that is OK. It’s the best thing that could have ever happened to me- a brutal awakening, but a vital one, and it has made me likely one the savviest, most clever, and most solid people you will ever meet. I have foundations deeper within myself, deeper than you can ever imagine. I lost the material things that held me together after this man was out of my life. The things I thought meant something, something real. They did not. And I now have me. My thoughts. My words, and clothes, books, and films, I so dearly cherish. And that, my friends, is the only thing I need besides a pencil and paper. I am thankful to be alive, thankful to be in Los Angeles, and thankful to now have a roof over my head, and people in my life that support me enough to be able to catch me, to fill in the gaps when needed, and enrich and enlighten my life everyday. I am happy. I am full of passion. I have a thousand ideas. I am alive. I am whole. And I have not a thing.
Friday, February 12, 2010
I'm having a real hard time wrapping my head around this...
Well, I suppose it was bound to happen. Though I hate admitting inevitability, I am in fact: stuck. I'm getting frosty, kids.
Many times in my life I feel as though I have been presented with a crossroads. Sometimes it's regarding people- men specifically. Sometimes it's when a career change or job prospect presents itself. These are the main ones, and here is the dilemma I am finding myself at today. I always believed in love. In two people completing each other in such a way that was harmonious and beautiful, and LASTING. I always did. I always thought that there would be a happily ever after, a person out there that would be loyal, true, and honest. Now, don't get me wrong: it's not like I don't now-- not REALLY-- but I will tell you, my confidence in men in general is shrinking.
I am not exactly sure when it happened, but I think it's happened over time- and then when 2010 hit: BAM! My expectations are lowering, and I generally think men are pretty simple creatures, easily swayed, and in general: not truthful. Why the sudden change in my attitude? One might argue it was a slew of incredibly bad, if not laughably bad relationships/dating scenarios. That might be it- but it's not just me I'm talking about. I can't think of one girlfriend I have that hasn't been dissappointed/lied to/ manipulated or duped by her man in the past. I can't. And here is the thing: it goes both ways, I know women can be like that as well, and I can only speak for myself as someone who truly wants to find love and not just play with people: but what happened to the fairytale? What happened to happily ever after that doesn't last for 5 minutes, or 5 years, but forever? Not ending in someone cheating, or cyber cheating, or carrying on with a double life, or what have you? What the hell is going on, and when the hell did I get so cynical? I NEVER used to be this way!
Literally, after Old Guy, Drunk Guy, Gay Guy, Girlfriend Guy, and Difficult Guy... I am really starting to feel nothing. Like I expect nothing from the opposite sex. Isn't that terrible? When a cute guy comes along now, I don't get as excited or loopy as I used to. I have a few prospects, maybe even more than a few: let's say a handful. And out of that handful, some very handsome, very accomplished, driven men. Who seem to really be into me. But in the back of my mind, I feel I know what will happen. A let down. Not now, but eventually. Not a great way to go about things, I know, but if it's happened to you time and time and time again, with even what seem to be the nicest, most loyal and shy of guys... it will throw you off too.
Men have short attention spans, and are easily distracted by a nice ass, rack, or other pretty face. Not that it's all about the sex with them. I had one guy tell me once, a guy I was actually IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH AT THE TIME, say, "I fall in love with a new girl everyday- it's about the variety... men need variety...the nerdy girl, the sexy girl, the artistic girl..."
I was mortified. But I have heard this before from other guys friends and or lovers... or former lovers... that men simply love variety... and need it... and it doesn't matter if they love somebody, and the sex is amazing- and they've been together for say, I don't know-- a few years-- even--even if everything is perfect in that way- they STILL feel the need to what?? Spread their seed??
I know how this comes off. Woman scorned, angry, and disillusioned. BUT. I am just trying to understand. I don't. And being a great "gal pal" to many hetero men- I ..... I wish I didn't know what I know. And even if it's not about the cheating, or the lying or the what have you- it seems to be something else. Is it boredom? The lack of core values? What is it? It could be that I am still hurt by the last several relationships that not only severely let me down, but knocked me on my ass. And now, when a nice guy comes into the picture, I feel like I already have them figured out. Like I know what their M.O. is... and I hate that about myself! I am now afraid, that IF a great guy comes along, and truly wants to be with me: I won't recognize it. I feel like I have turned into Miranda from "Sex and the City." Skeptical and cynical. I really wish I could flip a switch to change this. But I can't...men have been too predictable. Men have let me down. Men don't change. Men have not been good to me.
I know what you're thinking. It's me. It's me. Maybe it is. I won't deny that I have a penchant for finding men that in most people's eyes would consider "bad". I like guys that are a challenge. I'll admit it. I like men who are hard to get. I like deeply artistic, deeply emotional, and deeply sensitive men. And those kinds of men- the ones who are writers, actors, directors, photographers, what have you- the ones with creative spirits- they fall in love fast! They feel all kinds of crazy emotions...and relationships with them... can be... explosive... However--- they fall out of love fast too, and they generally- they need a muse. So when they're done with you- they're done with you, and on to the next deeply artistic, feeling girl. That's how I feel anyway. Not to sound so cold. But... many men have told me that they don't believe in monogamy. That they think it's a physical impossibility. I just think it's gross. Seriously. If you're sleeping with someone, and they're all up in someone else's buisness? Ewww.
I'm really, really, really sorry... this is a bitch session at it's best. Maybe it will take meeting that "great" guy. But let me tell you something, I think I know something that the others don't, and I'm going to fill you in on it, so get ready: the real reason I feel this way, and I feel isolated in this, is because I, on more than one occasion, have been the other woman.
It started when I was 13 and my next door neighbor, who was 16 and in highschool, used to ditch his high school g/f to make out with me by the pool. I knew he had a g/f. I knew it was wrong, but I really loved him... he was my first real puppy love- so I let him kiss me, knowing it was wrong. Maybe that's where it all started. I was too young and too shy to say no. So I didn't. But then I felt like hell afterward. Even then. Even when no sex was involved, just young hormones floating around. Then, my senior year, I had lost a bunch of weight, I was the star of the high school musicals, and on my way to NYC to study theater. I was riding high, I looked great, felt great, full of confidence. Same thing. The boy who I was devastatingly in love with, the male lead in our musicals, had a g/f, and I knew I could never have him. They had been together for 4 years, and she even- gulp- slept over at his house! Very adult- they were definitely having sex! I, 18, was NOT. (And didn't until I was 20, ha) But one night, I was helping him with his math homework, pining in our all too platonic relationship, and he reached over and kissed me. And then started feeling my boob. At first I liked it, and then I got scared. "What are you doing?? What about Michelle?? " I said. He told me, " Don't worry, no one has to know. I can't not kiss you. I'm trying not to. But I can't." I should have told him to try harder and shove him off me, but once again, I couldn't. I knew it was wrong. But I simply couldn't say no. I liked him too much. And we were too cute together. In my mind, I definitely thought this meant he was going to dump her, and take me to the senior ball. Alas, that didn't happen. Even though, every week or so, we would get together to make out and such, I would ask him about it, and he would say, "It's not the right time yet." And I would believe him. How about that. In the end, he took Michelle to the prom. I went with my geeky friend Pat, who had large wire rimmed glasses, a comb over (at 18. Yup), and was half my size. In the prom picture, it literally looks like he is my child, not my date. Ahhhh... but, this pattern started very early in my life, and sadly, I let it continue... but here is the secret I was going to share with you all.
Now, at 25, being an actress, and being in, well, some would say, a glamorous city, with a glamorous job, I have seen men do so many despicable things. Traditionally, many people think of actresses as sluts of some kind- prostitutes in a way- anything for the job, right? Well, knowing full well that that is true in some cases, but CERTAINLY not mine, I have been put in several comprising positions with several- shall I say, married or attached men? One I didn't know about. One, well, he made me love him- we courted and then dated for about a year- and then he ripped the rug from underneath me and told me had another woman, and he loved us both. I was shocked, he had done a great job at concealing that- always telling me how much he cared about me, loved me, loved being w/ me, etc. That was a shock. But then, I have worked at tradeshows, been on movie or tv sets, and what have you, and I cannot tell you how many married men, young, old, good looking, or ugly, try to get with the young actresses. And I found this so disturbing. Seeing so many married men... acting like... complete... apes... is just- well, it does something to you.
Some might argue that maybe it's just LA. I would argue that they're right. But that being said-- this is my town. I am an East Coast gal living out here- but this is my home. Where I will be staying indefinitely. And I love artistic men. Maybe that's the problem. Either way, feeling like I have seen more than what I like to admit- probably the way an exotic dancer feels I would imagine... I hate to make that analogy... but I feel like I'm on the other side of this... and it SUCKS!
Sometimes it feels good to vent, eh? I can't say I feel too much better, but I at least got those negative feelings off my chest... I know they will pass. I know it's just a time and a place. But I am ready. I am! I am ready to meet that person that will make me see thing differently. That will make me WANT to see things differently. Or at least give me a reason to. But you men. I tell you. You are really letting us down. Pick up the slack, start bringing a better game...! Because I refuse to settle for you dudes that do this sneaky stuff! ( I am also aware that some changing will have to be done on my part, but I know full well that despite the smack I talk, I would melt into a puddle for a guy that I like. That I could love, that has morals, and is honest and upfront. I would....!) I'm not negative Nancy. I've just become more cautious. I promised to write even when it's not 100% positive, so here it is guys... haha sorry, but I just REALLY needed to get that off my chest! I appreciate it!!
Many times in my life I feel as though I have been presented with a crossroads. Sometimes it's regarding people- men specifically. Sometimes it's when a career change or job prospect presents itself. These are the main ones, and here is the dilemma I am finding myself at today. I always believed in love. In two people completing each other in such a way that was harmonious and beautiful, and LASTING. I always did. I always thought that there would be a happily ever after, a person out there that would be loyal, true, and honest. Now, don't get me wrong: it's not like I don't now-- not REALLY-- but I will tell you, my confidence in men in general is shrinking.
I am not exactly sure when it happened, but I think it's happened over time- and then when 2010 hit: BAM! My expectations are lowering, and I generally think men are pretty simple creatures, easily swayed, and in general: not truthful. Why the sudden change in my attitude? One might argue it was a slew of incredibly bad, if not laughably bad relationships/dating scenarios. That might be it- but it's not just me I'm talking about. I can't think of one girlfriend I have that hasn't been dissappointed/lied to/ manipulated or duped by her man in the past. I can't. And here is the thing: it goes both ways, I know women can be like that as well, and I can only speak for myself as someone who truly wants to find love and not just play with people: but what happened to the fairytale? What happened to happily ever after that doesn't last for 5 minutes, or 5 years, but forever? Not ending in someone cheating, or cyber cheating, or carrying on with a double life, or what have you? What the hell is going on, and when the hell did I get so cynical? I NEVER used to be this way!
Literally, after Old Guy, Drunk Guy, Gay Guy, Girlfriend Guy, and Difficult Guy... I am really starting to feel nothing. Like I expect nothing from the opposite sex. Isn't that terrible? When a cute guy comes along now, I don't get as excited or loopy as I used to. I have a few prospects, maybe even more than a few: let's say a handful. And out of that handful, some very handsome, very accomplished, driven men. Who seem to really be into me. But in the back of my mind, I feel I know what will happen. A let down. Not now, but eventually. Not a great way to go about things, I know, but if it's happened to you time and time and time again, with even what seem to be the nicest, most loyal and shy of guys... it will throw you off too.
Men have short attention spans, and are easily distracted by a nice ass, rack, or other pretty face. Not that it's all about the sex with them. I had one guy tell me once, a guy I was actually IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH AT THE TIME, say, "I fall in love with a new girl everyday- it's about the variety... men need variety...the nerdy girl, the sexy girl, the artistic girl..."
I was mortified. But I have heard this before from other guys friends and or lovers... or former lovers... that men simply love variety... and need it... and it doesn't matter if they love somebody, and the sex is amazing- and they've been together for say, I don't know-- a few years-- even--even if everything is perfect in that way- they STILL feel the need to what?? Spread their seed??
I know how this comes off. Woman scorned, angry, and disillusioned. BUT. I am just trying to understand. I don't. And being a great "gal pal" to many hetero men- I ..... I wish I didn't know what I know. And even if it's not about the cheating, or the lying or the what have you- it seems to be something else. Is it boredom? The lack of core values? What is it? It could be that I am still hurt by the last several relationships that not only severely let me down, but knocked me on my ass. And now, when a nice guy comes into the picture, I feel like I already have them figured out. Like I know what their M.O. is... and I hate that about myself! I am now afraid, that IF a great guy comes along, and truly wants to be with me: I won't recognize it. I feel like I have turned into Miranda from "Sex and the City." Skeptical and cynical. I really wish I could flip a switch to change this. But I can't...men have been too predictable. Men have let me down. Men don't change. Men have not been good to me.
I know what you're thinking. It's me. It's me. Maybe it is. I won't deny that I have a penchant for finding men that in most people's eyes would consider "bad". I like guys that are a challenge. I'll admit it. I like men who are hard to get. I like deeply artistic, deeply emotional, and deeply sensitive men. And those kinds of men- the ones who are writers, actors, directors, photographers, what have you- the ones with creative spirits- they fall in love fast! They feel all kinds of crazy emotions...and relationships with them... can be... explosive... However--- they fall out of love fast too, and they generally- they need a muse. So when they're done with you- they're done with you, and on to the next deeply artistic, feeling girl. That's how I feel anyway. Not to sound so cold. But... many men have told me that they don't believe in monogamy. That they think it's a physical impossibility. I just think it's gross. Seriously. If you're sleeping with someone, and they're all up in someone else's buisness? Ewww.
I'm really, really, really sorry... this is a bitch session at it's best. Maybe it will take meeting that "great" guy. But let me tell you something, I think I know something that the others don't, and I'm going to fill you in on it, so get ready: the real reason I feel this way, and I feel isolated in this, is because I, on more than one occasion, have been the other woman.
It started when I was 13 and my next door neighbor, who was 16 and in highschool, used to ditch his high school g/f to make out with me by the pool. I knew he had a g/f. I knew it was wrong, but I really loved him... he was my first real puppy love- so I let him kiss me, knowing it was wrong. Maybe that's where it all started. I was too young and too shy to say no. So I didn't. But then I felt like hell afterward. Even then. Even when no sex was involved, just young hormones floating around. Then, my senior year, I had lost a bunch of weight, I was the star of the high school musicals, and on my way to NYC to study theater. I was riding high, I looked great, felt great, full of confidence. Same thing. The boy who I was devastatingly in love with, the male lead in our musicals, had a g/f, and I knew I could never have him. They had been together for 4 years, and she even- gulp- slept over at his house! Very adult- they were definitely having sex! I, 18, was NOT. (And didn't until I was 20, ha) But one night, I was helping him with his math homework, pining in our all too platonic relationship, and he reached over and kissed me. And then started feeling my boob. At first I liked it, and then I got scared. "What are you doing?? What about Michelle?? " I said. He told me, " Don't worry, no one has to know. I can't not kiss you. I'm trying not to. But I can't." I should have told him to try harder and shove him off me, but once again, I couldn't. I knew it was wrong. But I simply couldn't say no. I liked him too much. And we were too cute together. In my mind, I definitely thought this meant he was going to dump her, and take me to the senior ball. Alas, that didn't happen. Even though, every week or so, we would get together to make out and such, I would ask him about it, and he would say, "It's not the right time yet." And I would believe him. How about that. In the end, he took Michelle to the prom. I went with my geeky friend Pat, who had large wire rimmed glasses, a comb over (at 18. Yup), and was half my size. In the prom picture, it literally looks like he is my child, not my date. Ahhhh... but, this pattern started very early in my life, and sadly, I let it continue... but here is the secret I was going to share with you all.
Now, at 25, being an actress, and being in, well, some would say, a glamorous city, with a glamorous job, I have seen men do so many despicable things. Traditionally, many people think of actresses as sluts of some kind- prostitutes in a way- anything for the job, right? Well, knowing full well that that is true in some cases, but CERTAINLY not mine, I have been put in several comprising positions with several- shall I say, married or attached men? One I didn't know about. One, well, he made me love him- we courted and then dated for about a year- and then he ripped the rug from underneath me and told me had another woman, and he loved us both. I was shocked, he had done a great job at concealing that- always telling me how much he cared about me, loved me, loved being w/ me, etc. That was a shock. But then, I have worked at tradeshows, been on movie or tv sets, and what have you, and I cannot tell you how many married men, young, old, good looking, or ugly, try to get with the young actresses. And I found this so disturbing. Seeing so many married men... acting like... complete... apes... is just- well, it does something to you.
Some might argue that maybe it's just LA. I would argue that they're right. But that being said-- this is my town. I am an East Coast gal living out here- but this is my home. Where I will be staying indefinitely. And I love artistic men. Maybe that's the problem. Either way, feeling like I have seen more than what I like to admit- probably the way an exotic dancer feels I would imagine... I hate to make that analogy... but I feel like I'm on the other side of this... and it SUCKS!
Sometimes it feels good to vent, eh? I can't say I feel too much better, but I at least got those negative feelings off my chest... I know they will pass. I know it's just a time and a place. But I am ready. I am! I am ready to meet that person that will make me see thing differently. That will make me WANT to see things differently. Or at least give me a reason to. But you men. I tell you. You are really letting us down. Pick up the slack, start bringing a better game...! Because I refuse to settle for you dudes that do this sneaky stuff! ( I am also aware that some changing will have to be done on my part, but I know full well that despite the smack I talk, I would melt into a puddle for a guy that I like. That I could love, that has morals, and is honest and upfront. I would....!) I'm not negative Nancy. I've just become more cautious. I promised to write even when it's not 100% positive, so here it is guys... haha sorry, but I just REALLY needed to get that off my chest! I appreciate it!!
Sunday, January 3, 2010
"Eternal Sunshine of the Lovesick Mind" A diary entry
Maybe it was the haunting music of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" that I just watched. Maybe it was the fact that I was home, with my mother to take care of me, that I retreated back into the very childlike, and vulnerable state that I was in. I had not been taking very good care of myself. Not in the body, head, or heart. It had been a whirlwind year, and it was just about time to wake up from my winter's rest and snap back into the startling and exhilarating reality that had become my life. Why wasn't I more excited? Why couldn't I shake the melancholy? As a writer, I tend to live in that glorious unknown... the delicious world of what I have, what I want, and what I will never have... the cracks and crevices of happiness... what could have been, what never was... and that place where I know I will be someday. I live in that place most of the time... most artists do. It breeds good work, and generally, I can't shake it. But I don't mind spending time there, I've become rather comfortable with it.
In the past, I couldn't watch "Eternal..." not after the breakup... the bad, brutal and deeply depressing breakup. That movie speaks to this generation's group of lovers in a way that many other movies have not succeeded in. Somehow, everyone knows exactly what it's like to be the Joel or the Clementine in the relationship. I was the Clementine in case you were wondering. I'm always the Clementine. Or at least that's what people think I am. Heart on my sleeve, painfully honest, a little crazy, loud, and unable to hide what I am feeling in a any given moment. Now when I watch the movie, which truly is one of my favorites of all time... I feel nothing...I have long sense gotten over my 1st Joel. I have. But that was not what was on my mind. Not this time, on this particular snowed in, below zero, blustery Syracuse day.
What was bothering me- nagging me really, like a cut cuticle bleeding, needing attention, I couldn't exactly put my finger on. My Joel- the Joel that eventually went away... he was the only real relationship I had ever had. Everyone after my Joel was not... well... Joel. They were Tom, Dick , or Harry. And it was really starting to grate on me. On my confidence, on my whole head. I, like Clementine, had become a really kooky girl, a fun girl, a girl who was different from the others in the way I dressed, talked and held myself. Maybe it was the East coast in me. Maybe it was the exterior I put up in an effort to protect myself. But none the less, after my Joel, I had absolutely no problem getting other potential Joels to notice me. To ask me out. To want me. To even fall in love with me. The problem was- the ones that loved me- I didn't love back- not even a little. I could be married with 1.5 kids and a freakin Labrador, I thought to myself. What a scary thought. But none of these other potential Joels were the right ones.
On the flip side... I had much rather taken a liking to men... to Joels that I guess weren't really Joels at all... men who took me for granted... left me... treated me with disrespect, and discarded me until the next time they were feeling lonely. It took me awhile to realize that I was doing the exact same thing with them. For a full year- a year of searching for connections, losing them, and then finding them again-- I had failed to really find someone that I could spend more than a few hours with. I had succeeded in making my life compartmentalized. And I didn't like it.
In this blog, I always try to give you answers, reasons WHY, or WHY NOT. I like to come up with solutions and put a positive spin on just about anything... however, sometimes, especially now... why do we NEED answers? Why do women, particularly Clementine women, search for the reason in everything? Do we need closure? Why does there have to be a reason? Can't things just be? Must we always take a lesson? What is it? I will hold no punches back: I don't know.
I don't know why I haven't found my Joel-- my REAL Joel yet... I don't know why I only want people I know I can't have, and I love the wrong people, and I inconvenience, complicate, and screw my life up the way I do with love. But I DO know that I have love. I have a strong love that grows everyday. And someday, maybe tomorrow, or maybe next month... or next year... I will be able to share that with somebody. But until then, I am an actor with a great device and ability to share my feelings with others through art. I am a writer who can write out these schemes and dreams into something coherent and beautiful. And I am a blogger that can further confuse my readers with the first blog I will post that doesn't have an answer.... in fact it has a big question mark on top of it. And, for the first post of the new year, I think that's rather OK.
One of the things I am constantly working on is admitting that I don't know everything, and being alright with that. I find enlightenment in the questions...not the answers, more and more. So keep asking them. Watch "Eternal Sunshine..." See how you interpret it now... we can't go back. We can't fight to save something that is already gone. We can't leave clues in our ex lover's subconsciousness for them to remember how special we really were. However, we CAN continue to write. We can continue to build this love... for ourselves... within ourselves... within others who love us... and we can continue to express it. I said I wouldn't give you my take on a answer in this blog. So I will leave you with this. Create your own love. Create your own self worth. Want people, don't need them. And this year- in 2010- evaluate more. Make a mix tape. Write a journal. Ask questions. Don't take no for an answer. Spotty... crazy... and disjointed...(but full of compassion, hope, and maybe a little wisdom...) Kathryne Isabelle :0)
In the past, I couldn't watch "Eternal..." not after the breakup... the bad, brutal and deeply depressing breakup. That movie speaks to this generation's group of lovers in a way that many other movies have not succeeded in. Somehow, everyone knows exactly what it's like to be the Joel or the Clementine in the relationship. I was the Clementine in case you were wondering. I'm always the Clementine. Or at least that's what people think I am. Heart on my sleeve, painfully honest, a little crazy, loud, and unable to hide what I am feeling in a any given moment. Now when I watch the movie, which truly is one of my favorites of all time... I feel nothing...I have long sense gotten over my 1st Joel. I have. But that was not what was on my mind. Not this time, on this particular snowed in, below zero, blustery Syracuse day.
What was bothering me- nagging me really, like a cut cuticle bleeding, needing attention, I couldn't exactly put my finger on. My Joel- the Joel that eventually went away... he was the only real relationship I had ever had. Everyone after my Joel was not... well... Joel. They were Tom, Dick , or Harry. And it was really starting to grate on me. On my confidence, on my whole head. I, like Clementine, had become a really kooky girl, a fun girl, a girl who was different from the others in the way I dressed, talked and held myself. Maybe it was the East coast in me. Maybe it was the exterior I put up in an effort to protect myself. But none the less, after my Joel, I had absolutely no problem getting other potential Joels to notice me. To ask me out. To want me. To even fall in love with me. The problem was- the ones that loved me- I didn't love back- not even a little. I could be married with 1.5 kids and a freakin Labrador, I thought to myself. What a scary thought. But none of these other potential Joels were the right ones.
On the flip side... I had much rather taken a liking to men... to Joels that I guess weren't really Joels at all... men who took me for granted... left me... treated me with disrespect, and discarded me until the next time they were feeling lonely. It took me awhile to realize that I was doing the exact same thing with them. For a full year- a year of searching for connections, losing them, and then finding them again-- I had failed to really find someone that I could spend more than a few hours with. I had succeeded in making my life compartmentalized. And I didn't like it.
In this blog, I always try to give you answers, reasons WHY, or WHY NOT. I like to come up with solutions and put a positive spin on just about anything... however, sometimes, especially now... why do we NEED answers? Why do women, particularly Clementine women, search for the reason in everything? Do we need closure? Why does there have to be a reason? Can't things just be? Must we always take a lesson? What is it? I will hold no punches back: I don't know.
I don't know why I haven't found my Joel-- my REAL Joel yet... I don't know why I only want people I know I can't have, and I love the wrong people, and I inconvenience, complicate, and screw my life up the way I do with love. But I DO know that I have love. I have a strong love that grows everyday. And someday, maybe tomorrow, or maybe next month... or next year... I will be able to share that with somebody. But until then, I am an actor with a great device and ability to share my feelings with others through art. I am a writer who can write out these schemes and dreams into something coherent and beautiful. And I am a blogger that can further confuse my readers with the first blog I will post that doesn't have an answer.... in fact it has a big question mark on top of it. And, for the first post of the new year, I think that's rather OK.
One of the things I am constantly working on is admitting that I don't know everything, and being alright with that. I find enlightenment in the questions...not the answers, more and more. So keep asking them. Watch "Eternal Sunshine..." See how you interpret it now... we can't go back. We can't fight to save something that is already gone. We can't leave clues in our ex lover's subconsciousness for them to remember how special we really were. However, we CAN continue to write. We can continue to build this love... for ourselves... within ourselves... within others who love us... and we can continue to express it. I said I wouldn't give you my take on a answer in this blog. So I will leave you with this. Create your own love. Create your own self worth. Want people, don't need them. And this year- in 2010- evaluate more. Make a mix tape. Write a journal. Ask questions. Don't take no for an answer. Spotty... crazy... and disjointed...(but full of compassion, hope, and maybe a little wisdom...) Kathryne Isabelle :0)
Sunday, November 22, 2009
My 25th Year
I think I had an idea of what my life might be like by the time I was 25. I think we all did, or do. The middle of you 20's. 5 years to 30? Eek. Keenly knowing how fast the time goes now from middle school to high school, high school to college, and college to the "real" world. I am both excited and exhilerated to see what the next years have to offer. I used to fear getting older, fear that I was missing out on something, or someONE for that matter, and although the range of emotions I feel as I get closer to my 25th ebbs and flows and is constantly changing- the more I realize that I am actually pretty OK.
Of course, on these lovely yearly reminders, we are forced to truly look at our lives, and really examine what has happened in the past year. How have I grown? How have I screwed up? What can I do better? I offer you a very real, and painfully truthful look into my thoughts as I turn the big 2-5, and enter now, my "mid" 20's. (No longer "early") Ahhh...
Relationship wise, this past year might be labeled as a dud for me. At this time last year, I was reeling from the breakup with "Old Guy", and a few months previous to that "Difficult Guy". Now, looking at both of these dudes in hindsight, I wonder what the hell I was thinking. But none the less, I was left a bit upset and very raw after these two large blows. It was certainly a learning year into the world of dating, I suppose. Which brought on all kinds of crazy behavior. That I needed to go thru in order to get to where I am today: Still single, but SO MUCH more secure. My 24th year, I dated a LOT- lots of different kinds of guys (some gay, some drunk...read my previous "Kathryne Says..." posts for a brief history)... but all of them had the same theme: They were BAD DUDES. Bad dudes in the sense that they were into getting down and dirty, but not much else. Maybe, on some level I was conscious of this. I tried to make it in a relatioship with some of these dudes, and none of them panning out, for one reason or another- but then, that lead me to think something else: maybe on some level I AS WELL needed to get down and dirty. With no potential for a lasting relationship. Hmmm.... could a woman be so bold? I suppose I am admitting it is possible. Examining the motley crew of dates and semi-relationships I have had this year, it is a safe assumption that Kathryne needed to get out, get wild, and not feel tied down. That said- I feel I am over this stage, and am much happier staying in and reading a book or clearing out my DVR. My 24th year, I have become much more capable of BEING ALONE. And liking it. I don't want to waste my time of dudes with absolutley no future anymore. I am getting to that place where I think I am ready for the real thing- so I don't need to "sow my wild oats" anymore just to kill time until Mr. Right comes along. (yes, woman have wild oats too.) I am fine with Simon Baker of "The Mentalist" for now. We'll be here. :0)
Career wise, I fear I may in the place I have always dreamed I'd be: Making my own films, and simply getting by in Hollywood. If I couldn't be here and and least try, I would be miserable. I am writing more than ever, and in my 24th year, wrote 3 full length feature scripts. A dramedy, a comedy, and musical of sorts. Regardless- I found a new side to myself that I wasn't sure existed- the hard as nails producer. I am in the process of starring and exec. producing a film that I wrote, and may people are involved, rooting, and counting on me. It's a crazy thing- and I'm not complaining. I guess I always just ask myself, "would my 12 year old self think this cool?" And the answer is yes. I am not complacent, but I am realizing my acheivements for one of the first times, and celebrating them. Which must mean I am growing up a little!
Of course, there have been a few things I would have taken back this year, I have of course screwed up a few times- who hasn't? And I will continue to, I'm sure. I suppose the important thing is that I am still here in LA, chasing my dream, and that in and of itself is a victory in my eyes.
Of course, on these lovely yearly reminders, we are forced to truly look at our lives, and really examine what has happened in the past year. How have I grown? How have I screwed up? What can I do better? I offer you a very real, and painfully truthful look into my thoughts as I turn the big 2-5, and enter now, my "mid" 20's. (No longer "early") Ahhh...
Relationship wise, this past year might be labeled as a dud for me. At this time last year, I was reeling from the breakup with "Old Guy", and a few months previous to that "Difficult Guy". Now, looking at both of these dudes in hindsight, I wonder what the hell I was thinking. But none the less, I was left a bit upset and very raw after these two large blows. It was certainly a learning year into the world of dating, I suppose. Which brought on all kinds of crazy behavior. That I needed to go thru in order to get to where I am today: Still single, but SO MUCH more secure. My 24th year, I dated a LOT- lots of different kinds of guys (some gay, some drunk...read my previous "Kathryne Says..." posts for a brief history)... but all of them had the same theme: They were BAD DUDES. Bad dudes in the sense that they were into getting down and dirty, but not much else. Maybe, on some level I was conscious of this. I tried to make it in a relatioship with some of these dudes, and none of them panning out, for one reason or another- but then, that lead me to think something else: maybe on some level I AS WELL needed to get down and dirty. With no potential for a lasting relationship. Hmmm.... could a woman be so bold? I suppose I am admitting it is possible. Examining the motley crew of dates and semi-relationships I have had this year, it is a safe assumption that Kathryne needed to get out, get wild, and not feel tied down. That said- I feel I am over this stage, and am much happier staying in and reading a book or clearing out my DVR. My 24th year, I have become much more capable of BEING ALONE. And liking it. I don't want to waste my time of dudes with absolutley no future anymore. I am getting to that place where I think I am ready for the real thing- so I don't need to "sow my wild oats" anymore just to kill time until Mr. Right comes along. (yes, woman have wild oats too.) I am fine with Simon Baker of "The Mentalist" for now. We'll be here. :0)
Career wise, I fear I may in the place I have always dreamed I'd be: Making my own films, and simply getting by in Hollywood. If I couldn't be here and and least try, I would be miserable. I am writing more than ever, and in my 24th year, wrote 3 full length feature scripts. A dramedy, a comedy, and musical of sorts. Regardless- I found a new side to myself that I wasn't sure existed- the hard as nails producer. I am in the process of starring and exec. producing a film that I wrote, and may people are involved, rooting, and counting on me. It's a crazy thing- and I'm not complaining. I guess I always just ask myself, "would my 12 year old self think this cool?" And the answer is yes. I am not complacent, but I am realizing my acheivements for one of the first times, and celebrating them. Which must mean I am growing up a little!
Of course, there have been a few things I would have taken back this year, I have of course screwed up a few times- who hasn't? And I will continue to, I'm sure. I suppose the important thing is that I am still here in LA, chasing my dream, and that in and of itself is a victory in my eyes.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Kathryne Says... Don't Date the Guy Who Thinks You're Soulmates After the First Date
So. You met him. He was nice. He was very polite. He maybe held the door open for you at Starbucks, or you worked with him once on set or something like that. He wasn't too handsome or dashing. No, you'd remember that. You would have been intimidated if he had been too attractive. No, Soulmate Guy was alright looking. He had a scruffy beard and maybe, in my case, fooled you upon the first meeting. But more on that later. He SEEMED nice enough. When he asked you out, you thought to yourself, "well, it HAS been awhile since I have been out with someone new. Let's just give him a chance even though I am feeling rather 'meh' about this guy..."
You show up. 8pm. A diner. Seems harmless enough. You purposely told him you would drive yourself, instead of him picking you up because if you need to get the hell out of their fast, at least you won't be at the mercy of his car. This was just my thinking anyhow. Call me paranoid and untrusting, but this IS Los Angeles.
You walk in. You see a man wearing a Renaissance Fair costume. Poor bastard. What a moron, wearing that shit out in public. A full on cape with the fucking boots and hat with a goddamn feather in it. You check your watch. It's a little early, you'll wait in the lobby- or better yet, go to the ladies room to freshen up. When you exit the ladies room, back into the lobby, you see in front of you, your worst fear realized. Soulmate Guy was the dude wearing the Renaissance getup. He was waiting by the ladies room door for some reason, as if that wasn't disturbing enough in itself. He's seen you now, and has you cornered so it's too late to run. I go to this diner all the time- what if one of my friends, or gulp- even worse- one of my EX BOYFRIEND'S sees me with this clown! What is my life coming to?? This is starting to feel reminiscent high school... Well, too late to be the bitch that stands up the dude, so come on, let's bring on this nightmare. Woooo.
What made this worse, was that, in general, I am far too nice. I am more cynical and biting in my fake life, which lives in my screenplays and blogs. In real life- I am the cutie that will let you walk all over me. Not proud of that, but it's true. I have a big heart, what can I say? Hell, maybe I am too judgemental. Maybe I could make a nice life for myself with freak who wears buckskin in his bedsheets. Shit.
He ordered gravy, chicken, something southern that I would never think would go together- it didn't- but he ate it anyway. He put maple syrup on gravy and chicken and like, some corn thing. It was...gross. I digress. I ordered coffee, lots of it, and poked at some undercooked eggs in disgust. Even the food sucked. Would I get no satisfaction out of this date? Can't even drown my sorrows in some greasy diner food? Dammit! He was talking about his job- I am not a bitch- I was truly trying to give him a chance. I was!! But he worked for a Psychic Hotline! It's like he is writing the material FOR me. His overgrown beard was now ripe with pieces of his dinner. He was surprisingly very arrogant. He would not stop talking about how great of a writer he is/how amazing an actor he is/ and how he has slept with many, many women. And he is ready to settle down now. The thing is- I know all of this was compensating. I mean, obviously if you're going to list your accomplishments like that, you are self conscious about something. But who cares? It's such a turnoff!
The next bomb he dropped was that he was a Born again Christian who had been "saved" and that, although, he is "very attracted to me" he and I "should wait to have sex" until we are married, because "it's what Jesus would want". Keep 'em comin' cowboy!! On a side note, I love that he thought I wanted sex from him on the first date. That really tickled me. I knew I would never see this guy again after the date, but it suddenly became amusing- I realized this was like watching a trainwreck, and I wasn't ready to leave yet. Call me a masochist. Or just someone who needs to witness obscene human behavior for my--- artistic sense...?
Later on, after he had for about one full hour talked about himself- and ONLY himself- he put his hand on my hand, looked into my eyes, and told me that he was going to thank god he met me tonight, when he said his prayers, because he felt he had just met his "soulmate". MmmmHmmm. Not like I was feeling anything for this guy in the first place, but I had never pegged him to be a "Soulmate Guy!!!" He said we should go to Vegas. And then he said he wasn't joking, He said it had nothing to do with the fact he wanted to sleep with me... yeah. at thispoint, I was going through some phase of shock- I wasn't sure if it was the arrogance, assumption, food in the beard, or the Renaissance Clothes and the vague smell of smoked sausage he wafted. Maybe it was a mix of things. But time is up. I had seen enough. I felt violated, annoyed, and intrigued at the same time.
Had I been the Kathryne that I show in my blogs or one of my heroines in my screenplays, I might have said thank-you for dinner and pointed out all of the things that had gone wrong with the date in a witty and vindictive way. I, however, said thank-you, and never accepted a call from him again. I forgot to mention that night that he in fact, DID propose to me. He gave me a CD. Which actually was kind of sweet, but he got down on one knee and took my hand and asked me to elope with him that night. I am not kidding or exaggerating when I say he cried a little when he asked. I told him I had to get up early. And that I had my period. That's a way to turn 'em off/down girls! "Marry me!"--- "I have my period."--- "Oh. Nevermind." Right???
He sent me a few emails telling me that I was a "great love lost", and that he "doesn't normally show this much emotion to people he doesn't love". At this point I figured, if it were movie, I would either come around and start thinking the animal skin wearing, jerky eating guy was actually for me. Or he would chop me up into little pieces. No, no... haha....
If you find a "Soulmate Guy" approaching on you after a few days of meeting, or someone who might carry a sword and sheath to everyday activities like grocery shopping or playing tennis. Run. Don't be me. Just freakin' run and don't aplogize. But if your "Soulmate Guy" comes upon you after months or years of dating, and is a true love- (ie: not after a day. Or a date. Or over some gravy chicken shit- ain't never gonna happen...) then, I, as Kathryne Says... I give you permission to go forth and be Soulmates together. But then, what do I know? I've now been able to rule out the Gay Guy, the Drunk Guy, the Old Guy, The Difficult Guy, The Guy That Already Dumped Me Once, and now the Soulmate Guy- or should I call him "Renaissance Guy with an Attitude"? Maybe that- regardless- follow your gut, my darlings, and stay tuned for my next installment: Kathryne Says...Don't Don't The Dude That Went/Is IN Jail. Yeah. Keep it comin' homies! I'll keep shovelin' it out!!
You show up. 8pm. A diner. Seems harmless enough. You purposely told him you would drive yourself, instead of him picking you up because if you need to get the hell out of their fast, at least you won't be at the mercy of his car. This was just my thinking anyhow. Call me paranoid and untrusting, but this IS Los Angeles.
You walk in. You see a man wearing a Renaissance Fair costume. Poor bastard. What a moron, wearing that shit out in public. A full on cape with the fucking boots and hat with a goddamn feather in it. You check your watch. It's a little early, you'll wait in the lobby- or better yet, go to the ladies room to freshen up. When you exit the ladies room, back into the lobby, you see in front of you, your worst fear realized. Soulmate Guy was the dude wearing the Renaissance getup. He was waiting by the ladies room door for some reason, as if that wasn't disturbing enough in itself. He's seen you now, and has you cornered so it's too late to run. I go to this diner all the time- what if one of my friends, or gulp- even worse- one of my EX BOYFRIEND'S sees me with this clown! What is my life coming to?? This is starting to feel reminiscent high school... Well, too late to be the bitch that stands up the dude, so come on, let's bring on this nightmare. Woooo.
What made this worse, was that, in general, I am far too nice. I am more cynical and biting in my fake life, which lives in my screenplays and blogs. In real life- I am the cutie that will let you walk all over me. Not proud of that, but it's true. I have a big heart, what can I say? Hell, maybe I am too judgemental. Maybe I could make a nice life for myself with freak who wears buckskin in his bedsheets. Shit.
He ordered gravy, chicken, something southern that I would never think would go together- it didn't- but he ate it anyway. He put maple syrup on gravy and chicken and like, some corn thing. It was...gross. I digress. I ordered coffee, lots of it, and poked at some undercooked eggs in disgust. Even the food sucked. Would I get no satisfaction out of this date? Can't even drown my sorrows in some greasy diner food? Dammit! He was talking about his job- I am not a bitch- I was truly trying to give him a chance. I was!! But he worked for a Psychic Hotline! It's like he is writing the material FOR me. His overgrown beard was now ripe with pieces of his dinner. He was surprisingly very arrogant. He would not stop talking about how great of a writer he is/how amazing an actor he is/ and how he has slept with many, many women. And he is ready to settle down now. The thing is- I know all of this was compensating. I mean, obviously if you're going to list your accomplishments like that, you are self conscious about something. But who cares? It's such a turnoff!
The next bomb he dropped was that he was a Born again Christian who had been "saved" and that, although, he is "very attracted to me" he and I "should wait to have sex" until we are married, because "it's what Jesus would want". Keep 'em comin' cowboy!! On a side note, I love that he thought I wanted sex from him on the first date. That really tickled me. I knew I would never see this guy again after the date, but it suddenly became amusing- I realized this was like watching a trainwreck, and I wasn't ready to leave yet. Call me a masochist. Or just someone who needs to witness obscene human behavior for my--- artistic sense...?
Later on, after he had for about one full hour talked about himself- and ONLY himself- he put his hand on my hand, looked into my eyes, and told me that he was going to thank god he met me tonight, when he said his prayers, because he felt he had just met his "soulmate". MmmmHmmm. Not like I was feeling anything for this guy in the first place, but I had never pegged him to be a "Soulmate Guy!!!" He said we should go to Vegas. And then he said he wasn't joking, He said it had nothing to do with the fact he wanted to sleep with me... yeah. at thispoint, I was going through some phase of shock- I wasn't sure if it was the arrogance, assumption, food in the beard, or the Renaissance Clothes and the vague smell of smoked sausage he wafted. Maybe it was a mix of things. But time is up. I had seen enough. I felt violated, annoyed, and intrigued at the same time.
Had I been the Kathryne that I show in my blogs or one of my heroines in my screenplays, I might have said thank-you for dinner and pointed out all of the things that had gone wrong with the date in a witty and vindictive way. I, however, said thank-you, and never accepted a call from him again. I forgot to mention that night that he in fact, DID propose to me. He gave me a CD. Which actually was kind of sweet, but he got down on one knee and took my hand and asked me to elope with him that night. I am not kidding or exaggerating when I say he cried a little when he asked. I told him I had to get up early. And that I had my period. That's a way to turn 'em off/down girls! "Marry me!"--- "I have my period."--- "Oh. Nevermind." Right???
He sent me a few emails telling me that I was a "great love lost", and that he "doesn't normally show this much emotion to people he doesn't love". At this point I figured, if it were movie, I would either come around and start thinking the animal skin wearing, jerky eating guy was actually for me. Or he would chop me up into little pieces. No, no... haha....
If you find a "Soulmate Guy" approaching on you after a few days of meeting, or someone who might carry a sword and sheath to everyday activities like grocery shopping or playing tennis. Run. Don't be me. Just freakin' run and don't aplogize. But if your "Soulmate Guy" comes upon you after months or years of dating, and is a true love- (ie: not after a day. Or a date. Or over some gravy chicken shit- ain't never gonna happen...) then, I, as Kathryne Says... I give you permission to go forth and be Soulmates together. But then, what do I know? I've now been able to rule out the Gay Guy, the Drunk Guy, the Old Guy, The Difficult Guy, The Guy That Already Dumped Me Once, and now the Soulmate Guy- or should I call him "Renaissance Guy with an Attitude"? Maybe that- regardless- follow your gut, my darlings, and stay tuned for my next installment: Kathryne Says...Don't Don't The Dude That Went/Is IN Jail. Yeah. Keep it comin' homies! I'll keep shovelin' it out!!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Kathryne Says... Don't Date the Difficult Guy
Difficult Guys are all around. It's hard to lump them into one specific catergory and just simply call them "Difficult". Difficult Guy also goes under the guise of Moody Guy, Brooding Guy, Mother Issues Guy, and Fear of Abandonment Guy. And maybe a little bit of Controlling Guy as well. The spectrum is certainly large. And don't worry- I'll cover all the bases! Cuz if he's crying in a corner, arguing with your friends, and listening to Annie Lennox nonstop, I've probably dated him! I have girlfriends that will argue that every guy they've dated and subsequently broken up with has been "Difficult" in some way. This I won't argue with...they've yet to prove me wrong. Come on fellas! What's the problem?
Difficult Guy, I will tell you straight off the bat, was my Long Term Guy. Long Term as in 4 years, and 2 of those years I lived with him. The signs were there from the beginning, but, just like anything, if you tell yourself to brush it off, and accept it as "normal" behavior, you will. And you will suffer for it. You know you are dating the Difficult Guy when:
YOUR FRIENDS HATE HIM
You're in love. Or you think you could be someday with this great guy you just started to see. He is sensitive to your needs and generally seems quite attentive. You've been dating for a few months now, and your friends start wondering where you've dissapeared to. Once your only strongholds, you have let them fall by the wayside a little bit, in exchange for your new guy time. Well, this is now serious, and you two are officially a couple. Time for Difficult Guy to get to know your best friends, and welcome him to the group. (Of course, Difficult Guy is not Difficult Guy yet, he is still Perfect Guy at this moment) You're sure now is the time for the big introduction. If it went anything like mine went, don't wait around for another 3 years to see if he gets more friendly in social situations. He won't!
Difficult Guy and all my closest friends in the world met at my most favorite diner one night. French Fries, beers, and good times? Yes? Well, no, not really. After talking up Difficult Guy for what seemed to be forever, my friends were dying to meet the man who had so eloquently swept me off my feet. The initial meeting went well: shaking of hands, hugs, and the "oh you're the one who...(insert funny story)." Well, after about an hour or so, I noticed that my darling boyfriend was... sulking... this is the only word I can use to describe this behavior. While my good friends and I were telling hilarious stories of growing up, and school, all while trying to include him and get him to join in, he was, sitting back in his chair, slumped over, arms crossed, and being totally and completely silent. I was starting to get embarrased. After all- this was the guy that for so long I had been talking up as the cream of the crop! What the hell is going on?! To be fair, it wasn't just a group of girlfriends. It was me, a few girlfriends, a few gay guy friends, and 2 other straight guys. A good mix. Difficult Guy had brought along one of his friends as well to even it out. My best friend tried to include him- asking him open ended questions, really trying to engage him: nothing. He grimaced. He didn't smile, and he was very, very short with his answers, only opening his mouth when he had to. I took him aside, which was also, very, very embarrassing. I asked him, hey, what's wrong sweetheart? He told me, that he was having a horrible time, he thought my friends were self obsessed, the food sucked, and that he wanted to leave. He was angry that all of the things that we were talking about had something to do with me. That it was all about me and my stories, and anecdotes, and that he felt like no one was asking him any questions or cared about him. Well, this was shocking, especially because I had seen 3 of my friends really try and ask him some questions, that, in turn, Difficult Guy answered rather rudely to. Another thing at that point that concerend me was that we had only been with my friends for about an hour- and Difficult Guy was alread tired of hearing funny stories about my college days? It was all about me for about an hour, and he couldn't handle that? What further perplexed me was that, I had met several of his friends already. One of them did nothing short of grope my boob and tell me I was "hot stuff", and the other one was so unbelieveably pretentious and full of himself, I couldn't stand it. But at the time, I did nothing but smile and say, "yeah, you're friends are awesome!".... because.... well, they were HIS friends. And that's what you do... especially in the beginning of a relationship- you try to be cordial, and understanding, and open- and give people a chance! So what the heck was going on? Why was my new boyfriend pouting in the corner when the all the attention was shifted to me for a mere moment? I should also point out- I am an actress and singer. So sometimes, in my career, all the attention is going to be on me... how is he going to deal with that? Well, time would tell, I thought, and it sure did.
HE GETS JEALOUS OF YOU
So, it's been a few months, maybe even a year or so now. You have hit your grove with this person and despite some social issues, you are still in love. So what? He just isn't a social guy, you think to yourself. Not everyone can be the social butterfly I am. Maybe it's just because he is so shy and sensitive. That's what I love about him you think. At least I know what we have is real.
I got a call from Samsung. I was 21, and I had just found out I had booked my first "real job" as an actress. I was going to be appearing in a series of Industrial Ads to be seen all over the world for the Electronics Company, Samsung. It was a 3 week gig that was being shot in Trump Towers. I was the female lead in a series they were basing off of hit soap operas like "Days of Our Lives", to teach Korean businessmen how to speak better English. Glamorous, I know! Well, it was a lot of money, and it would get heavy rotation in Asia. This was really huge for me. So huge that I quit my day job. (in hindshight, real bad move, but I was young and stupid.) This was the best news of my life thus far- a huge, huge paycheck, tons of material for my reel- pro hair and makeup and wardrobe, and it was for Samsung! Yay! Right? Well, when I told my boyfriend the news, I was expecting applause, champagne, and like, I don't know? I hug? Relief? A smile maybe? How bout just a "congratulations" on your hard work kind of thing? Turns out, he not only didn't say "congratulations", he cried. Yup. He cried- and--- wait for it--- he threw a hissy fit. A HISSY FIT!!! He turned it around to him and asked me when it would be his turn for his success? When would he have that great job, that big paycheck? Why did it have to be me... not him...? (his words) At the time, I felt actual remorse. I felt like, by me getting this job, I had, in turn hurt my relationship with Difficult Guy. Who was still "Sensitive Guy" and "Perfect Guy" in my head. Though all signs were pointing to cut and run, I felt actual pity for him, and I felt ashamed of my success. He made me feel bad about a job well done. A job I spent days preparing for with no sleep, just trying to memorize my lines before the big audition. I mean, it wasn't an easy job to book. I should have been patting myself on the back for the moment, but instead I was consoling a needy, insecure, little boy. Did I see something wrong with the picture...? Ahhh.. YEAH. But I still was hoping and praying it would all find a way to work itself out. Well, yeah, I wouldn't be writing this blog if it had...!
YOU DON'T LEAD SEPARATE LIVES ANYMORE
This is next thing I am going to write is tricky, so try and understand me. When you are in a serious relationship, it is good- in fact, it is neccessary to have your own "stuff". The knitting class you go to on Wednesdays, or the raquetball he plays on Fridays. You catch my drift. Do things that enrich yourself- and on your own. Take that yoga class, go for that solo walk to clear your head. Go shopping by yourself. Take a night to stay in and read a book instead of going out with the significant other every now and then. This is healthy behavior. Of course, when you are living with someone, most meals, and most tv shows, and most outside adventures will be done together. And this is a great thing, it really is. But it's a thin, thin, line. You have to keep on with your singular self, and keep up that relationship, (with yourself) I think, first and foremost, no matter how happy or secure you are in any given relationship. This said: don't close yourself off or push your significant other away because you need to blockade yourself in other interests, no. But make sure you check in with you, at least every once and while. This was not something I did, or rather, really knew HOW to do in my first serious relationship, that happened to be with Difficult Guy.
We ate every meal together. We took the train to work together everyday. We watched movies at night together. We saw our friends together- and we no longer had friends we saw alone. I didn't notice it at the time, but looking back now, we really only saw his friends, that were in turn my friends now. And that was incredibly seldom. Because Difficult Guy had been so rude to my friends- they didn't agree with me seeing him. Therefore, I almost altogether stopped seeing my own friends. I don't blame them for disliking him. They all told me that he was not the guy for me. I couldn't see it at the time. But word to the wise guys: if you friends and peers don't like him, and especially if your family doesn't like him (or her)--- try, just try to see where they are coming from. Because I hate to say it: but they are ALWAYS right. They are, afterall, your mirror. Look into it, even if it's ugly- because life is too short to think you know better and make excuses for a deadbeat, am I right?
Having almost totally and completely isolated myself with the Difficult Guy, I started to really get depressed. I wasn't going out with my friends anymore. I wasn't doing things for ME and just ME anymore- it was always an "us". I started to conceal when I would see friends on the sly- it was almost I felt like I was cheating on Difficult Guy, given that he had only negative things to say about almost all my friends. What the heck was going on? I was 22. This was no way to live. I did this little song and dance for another year, believe it or not- and ya know what? Enough came to be enough, and I have never been happier. I suppose all I am trying to say is: listen to your gut: it don't lie! A partnership is JUST that. You see each other when you WANT to- even if you live together. You don't apoligize for your accomplishments, rather celebrate them together. The majority of your friends should mesh well together, and really see why you two are together- why you "work". The Difficult Guy takes many, many forms, and it is important to be able to recognize this. One might even say that Difficult Guy could also be Abusive Guy. Whether it is emotional, physical or otherwise. Here are some links at the bottom of the posting that will give you guidence and help on the subject if your Difficult Guy turns into Abusive Guy. Or if you know someone in need of help or information, send them the links. Because all kidding aside, Difficult Guy is the most unpredictable and inexcuseable of all the "Guys" I have dated. Well, him and the Gay Guy. Didn't see that one coming. (alright, I did!) But damn.
Stay tuned for my next posting: Kathryne Says...Don't Date the Guy That Already Dumped You Once. (Or 3 times)
Helpful Links: http://www.ndvh.org/
http://dahmw.org/#
http://www.womencareshelter.org/
http://verahouse.org/
Difficult Guy, I will tell you straight off the bat, was my Long Term Guy. Long Term as in 4 years, and 2 of those years I lived with him. The signs were there from the beginning, but, just like anything, if you tell yourself to brush it off, and accept it as "normal" behavior, you will. And you will suffer for it. You know you are dating the Difficult Guy when:
YOUR FRIENDS HATE HIM
You're in love. Or you think you could be someday with this great guy you just started to see. He is sensitive to your needs and generally seems quite attentive. You've been dating for a few months now, and your friends start wondering where you've dissapeared to. Once your only strongholds, you have let them fall by the wayside a little bit, in exchange for your new guy time. Well, this is now serious, and you two are officially a couple. Time for Difficult Guy to get to know your best friends, and welcome him to the group. (Of course, Difficult Guy is not Difficult Guy yet, he is still Perfect Guy at this moment) You're sure now is the time for the big introduction. If it went anything like mine went, don't wait around for another 3 years to see if he gets more friendly in social situations. He won't!
Difficult Guy and all my closest friends in the world met at my most favorite diner one night. French Fries, beers, and good times? Yes? Well, no, not really. After talking up Difficult Guy for what seemed to be forever, my friends were dying to meet the man who had so eloquently swept me off my feet. The initial meeting went well: shaking of hands, hugs, and the "oh you're the one who...(insert funny story)." Well, after about an hour or so, I noticed that my darling boyfriend was... sulking... this is the only word I can use to describe this behavior. While my good friends and I were telling hilarious stories of growing up, and school, all while trying to include him and get him to join in, he was, sitting back in his chair, slumped over, arms crossed, and being totally and completely silent. I was starting to get embarrased. After all- this was the guy that for so long I had been talking up as the cream of the crop! What the hell is going on?! To be fair, it wasn't just a group of girlfriends. It was me, a few girlfriends, a few gay guy friends, and 2 other straight guys. A good mix. Difficult Guy had brought along one of his friends as well to even it out. My best friend tried to include him- asking him open ended questions, really trying to engage him: nothing. He grimaced. He didn't smile, and he was very, very short with his answers, only opening his mouth when he had to. I took him aside, which was also, very, very embarrassing. I asked him, hey, what's wrong sweetheart? He told me, that he was having a horrible time, he thought my friends were self obsessed, the food sucked, and that he wanted to leave. He was angry that all of the things that we were talking about had something to do with me. That it was all about me and my stories, and anecdotes, and that he felt like no one was asking him any questions or cared about him. Well, this was shocking, especially because I had seen 3 of my friends really try and ask him some questions, that, in turn, Difficult Guy answered rather rudely to. Another thing at that point that concerend me was that we had only been with my friends for about an hour- and Difficult Guy was alread tired of hearing funny stories about my college days? It was all about me for about an hour, and he couldn't handle that? What further perplexed me was that, I had met several of his friends already. One of them did nothing short of grope my boob and tell me I was "hot stuff", and the other one was so unbelieveably pretentious and full of himself, I couldn't stand it. But at the time, I did nothing but smile and say, "yeah, you're friends are awesome!".... because.... well, they were HIS friends. And that's what you do... especially in the beginning of a relationship- you try to be cordial, and understanding, and open- and give people a chance! So what the heck was going on? Why was my new boyfriend pouting in the corner when the all the attention was shifted to me for a mere moment? I should also point out- I am an actress and singer. So sometimes, in my career, all the attention is going to be on me... how is he going to deal with that? Well, time would tell, I thought, and it sure did.
HE GETS JEALOUS OF YOU
So, it's been a few months, maybe even a year or so now. You have hit your grove with this person and despite some social issues, you are still in love. So what? He just isn't a social guy, you think to yourself. Not everyone can be the social butterfly I am. Maybe it's just because he is so shy and sensitive. That's what I love about him you think. At least I know what we have is real.
I got a call from Samsung. I was 21, and I had just found out I had booked my first "real job" as an actress. I was going to be appearing in a series of Industrial Ads to be seen all over the world for the Electronics Company, Samsung. It was a 3 week gig that was being shot in Trump Towers. I was the female lead in a series they were basing off of hit soap operas like "Days of Our Lives", to teach Korean businessmen how to speak better English. Glamorous, I know! Well, it was a lot of money, and it would get heavy rotation in Asia. This was really huge for me. So huge that I quit my day job. (in hindshight, real bad move, but I was young and stupid.) This was the best news of my life thus far- a huge, huge paycheck, tons of material for my reel- pro hair and makeup and wardrobe, and it was for Samsung! Yay! Right? Well, when I told my boyfriend the news, I was expecting applause, champagne, and like, I don't know? I hug? Relief? A smile maybe? How bout just a "congratulations" on your hard work kind of thing? Turns out, he not only didn't say "congratulations", he cried. Yup. He cried- and--- wait for it--- he threw a hissy fit. A HISSY FIT!!! He turned it around to him and asked me when it would be his turn for his success? When would he have that great job, that big paycheck? Why did it have to be me... not him...? (his words) At the time, I felt actual remorse. I felt like, by me getting this job, I had, in turn hurt my relationship with Difficult Guy. Who was still "Sensitive Guy" and "Perfect Guy" in my head. Though all signs were pointing to cut and run, I felt actual pity for him, and I felt ashamed of my success. He made me feel bad about a job well done. A job I spent days preparing for with no sleep, just trying to memorize my lines before the big audition. I mean, it wasn't an easy job to book. I should have been patting myself on the back for the moment, but instead I was consoling a needy, insecure, little boy. Did I see something wrong with the picture...? Ahhh.. YEAH. But I still was hoping and praying it would all find a way to work itself out. Well, yeah, I wouldn't be writing this blog if it had...!
YOU DON'T LEAD SEPARATE LIVES ANYMORE
This is next thing I am going to write is tricky, so try and understand me. When you are in a serious relationship, it is good- in fact, it is neccessary to have your own "stuff". The knitting class you go to on Wednesdays, or the raquetball he plays on Fridays. You catch my drift. Do things that enrich yourself- and on your own. Take that yoga class, go for that solo walk to clear your head. Go shopping by yourself. Take a night to stay in and read a book instead of going out with the significant other every now and then. This is healthy behavior. Of course, when you are living with someone, most meals, and most tv shows, and most outside adventures will be done together. And this is a great thing, it really is. But it's a thin, thin, line. You have to keep on with your singular self, and keep up that relationship, (with yourself) I think, first and foremost, no matter how happy or secure you are in any given relationship. This said: don't close yourself off or push your significant other away because you need to blockade yourself in other interests, no. But make sure you check in with you, at least every once and while. This was not something I did, or rather, really knew HOW to do in my first serious relationship, that happened to be with Difficult Guy.
We ate every meal together. We took the train to work together everyday. We watched movies at night together. We saw our friends together- and we no longer had friends we saw alone. I didn't notice it at the time, but looking back now, we really only saw his friends, that were in turn my friends now. And that was incredibly seldom. Because Difficult Guy had been so rude to my friends- they didn't agree with me seeing him. Therefore, I almost altogether stopped seeing my own friends. I don't blame them for disliking him. They all told me that he was not the guy for me. I couldn't see it at the time. But word to the wise guys: if you friends and peers don't like him, and especially if your family doesn't like him (or her)--- try, just try to see where they are coming from. Because I hate to say it: but they are ALWAYS right. They are, afterall, your mirror. Look into it, even if it's ugly- because life is too short to think you know better and make excuses for a deadbeat, am I right?
Having almost totally and completely isolated myself with the Difficult Guy, I started to really get depressed. I wasn't going out with my friends anymore. I wasn't doing things for ME and just ME anymore- it was always an "us". I started to conceal when I would see friends on the sly- it was almost I felt like I was cheating on Difficult Guy, given that he had only negative things to say about almost all my friends. What the heck was going on? I was 22. This was no way to live. I did this little song and dance for another year, believe it or not- and ya know what? Enough came to be enough, and I have never been happier. I suppose all I am trying to say is: listen to your gut: it don't lie! A partnership is JUST that. You see each other when you WANT to- even if you live together. You don't apoligize for your accomplishments, rather celebrate them together. The majority of your friends should mesh well together, and really see why you two are together- why you "work". The Difficult Guy takes many, many forms, and it is important to be able to recognize this. One might even say that Difficult Guy could also be Abusive Guy. Whether it is emotional, physical or otherwise. Here are some links at the bottom of the posting that will give you guidence and help on the subject if your Difficult Guy turns into Abusive Guy. Or if you know someone in need of help or information, send them the links. Because all kidding aside, Difficult Guy is the most unpredictable and inexcuseable of all the "Guys" I have dated. Well, him and the Gay Guy. Didn't see that one coming. (alright, I did!) But damn.
Stay tuned for my next posting: Kathryne Says...Don't Date the Guy That Already Dumped You Once. (Or 3 times)
Helpful Links: http://www.ndvh.org/
http://dahmw.org/#
http://www.womencareshelter.org/
http://verahouse.org/
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
*Sigh* My Gilt-y Pleasure
This posting is from my guest blogger, Chris Holmes, who represents my East Coast perspective on all things fashion, living, and general fabulousness. She will be contributing regularly to balance out my West Coast musings! My bestest since 4th grade, Chris lives and works in Boston, MA. We have a shared love of Wegman's subs, Tina Turner, and late night mayo hair masks. I also knew her when she was Christy ;0)
Hi. My name is Chris and I'm a shopaholic. Hi, Chris! Wait - that's not entirely true anymore. I've been much better (much, much better) lately in regards to staying within budget. No longer do I allow myself to meander through Downtown Crossing and Faneuil Hall during what often turned into very expensive lunch hours. I've been filing all my shopping emails away into a "Shopping" folder in my Gmail as they come in (can't quite bear to delete them all together).
There are certain sites, however, that I can't quite stop checking. That fabulous site is Gilt. It's not somewhere I usually end up buying things, since even at discounted prices, many of the designer digs are still quite pricey, to put it lightly. additionally, by the time I get to the site - new sales start at noon each day - my size is usually sold out. When that happens, I take it as a sign. When I saw this grey Carolina Herrera dress, I was in love. At $498 (on sale from $1,890), it still wasn't in my price-range. Not by a long shot. I also loved the Carolina Herrera fuchsia dress - both are perfect work/night dresses. With the fuchsia dress also being $498 (from $1,990 this time), it was also something I wasn't about to purchase to wear occasionally at work.
My question: why can't this model smile?? She has a sort of half-smile while in the pink dress...but not really. She's wearing $2,000 dresses, what's not to be happy about??
The evidence: Me on the left, Chris on the right...
Monday, August 10, 2009
Kathryne Says... Don't Date the Old Guy.
Old Guy came to me in a moment of shear and total devastation. I was 23, and had just gotten out of a 4 year relationship. A relationship that for 2 of the 4 years, I lived with the guy. 3 weeks out of this long relationship (the 1st real relationship I had ever had.), Old Guy started to court me. At the time, my life was in shambles. I was broke, jobless, just started living in a studio apartment by myself, and I had also gained the obligatory break up weight- so my self esteem was shot to hell. I had no idea what what I was getting myself into.
I had been babied and sheltered from a lot of "real world" realities by my parents, and subsequently by my long term b/f, so once I was out on my own for the very first time, I felt like I belonged sitting at the kid's table, not with the adults. In hindsight, I won't say that Old Guy completely preyed on my naivity, but, well, fine, I will say it: Old Guy TOTALLY preyed on my basketcased, schismed life. (At the time.) This is not to say that all Old Guys will do this, but having been in the dating game much, much longer than us in our early to mid 20's- he knew how to manipulate a situtaion, and honestly, there are some guys out there- and some women for that matter- that simply like projects. That like "broken" people- and sadly, use someone else's pain for their own advantage. Let me break down my experience for you.
Old Guy was 34. I was 23. When he asked me out, I was completely and totally blindsighted because I was feeling pretty worthless at the time of my breakup with Longterm Guy. The relationship had taken everything out of me. It was so all emcompassing, that I wasn't sure I knew who I was without him- I was lost, devastated, and completely clueless. Old Guy took me out for a really, really nice, expensive dinner. I had never been to a restaurant like this- it was beyond fancy... I was certainly underdressed in my hot pink Old Navy lacy tank top, black zip up skirt from H&M, and Chinese Laundry platform pumps. I felt out of place. But maybe this is what dating an older gentleman is like? No more dinners at In and Out or Subway? Maybe it would be champagne and Chicken Marsala every night? Wow. Maybe I could get used to this...
At dinner I talked about my life in NY, and desparately tried to make sure I sounded intelligent, not like a stupid chick in her 20's only interested in frivolous things. I also tried very hard not to talk about the ex. But it was still on my mind- I had only barely moved out and away from him, and here I was now with a NEW man. I was ill- prepared for what happened next.
After dinner, Old Guy took me to his very adult apartment. I felt like I was 12 years old in comparison. My apartment was decorated with pink and purple polka dots, posters from movies I loved, and old photographs my mother took in the 70's. It was also a mess. Old Guy's apartment was clean and perfect. With beige and black as the theme colors- everything matched, his huge LCD TV screen spralled the entire length of the wall. He had a beautiful balcony, and only really healthy food in his kitchen. I didn't want to even touch anything- it almost felt sterile. In a very adult and sophisticated way. We made our way to the couch and started making out. I hadn't been with many men. In fact, my number was pretty low. I also- and this is the God's honest truth- didn't know how pacing went in the world of dating. Because, at 23, I had never really dated. My first and only relationship started when I was still in college at 19, and was a friendship that turned into kissing that then turned into love. So on the "getting to know you basis" of dating- I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I was very much a novice. Maybe it was just simply stupidity or the inability to say "no" at the time, but I was also just trying to move on. Old Guy slipped my bra off within 10 minutes of making out. Had this been high school or college, I would have slapped his face and walked out. But now, I was in the "real world". Was I prude? He is 34, he is an adult, and if I can't keep up, then he will just find someone else. And he wants ME now. Go with it, dummy. So I did.
It is my personal belief that whenever it is that one enters "the real world" - whether it is after high school at 18, or after college at 22, or after grad school at 25, that even though your driver's liscence SAYS you are an adult- you really aren't. Not quite yet. See, I had been out in the "real world" since I was 21. But I had never been alone, and I was not privy to so many things. It takes years of working a job, making your rent, and learning lessons the hard way to make an adult. And some of us never get there. Come on, we all have that Uncle Bernie that's 50, never married, works in "business" or finance" and cruises women half his age. I believe that until you've had your heart broken into a thousand pieces, until you've tried your damndest for a job and lost it, until you've been so broke you couldn't afford bread, and until you realize that there a million other people better and more talented than you for any given job, and that there is nothing you can do about it- then you aren't an adult. Being an adult means not only being responsible blah,blah, blah, but also having humility. I haven't reached that point yet, even now. I still believe I am the best person you will ever find for the job, that someday I will develop the ability to fly, and that every single one of my dreams will come true. (And that unicorns exist in a land called Zambia.) Being an adult to me is letting reality sink in. Admitting your shortcomings. Given thatI haven't really done this yet, I will go out on a limb and say that maybe when you turn 30, you are officially an adult. I digress.
Old Guy and I slept together the first date. It was pretty horrible. I didn't know what I was doing, and I was super uncomfortable the whole time. When you are in a relationship, you get used to your partner's ticks and what not. I was not at all prepared to be with someone new. But I told myself that this was a neccessary step to moving on. Old Guy then played the waiting game with me. In the months that we went out, he told me that I was "amazing" but that he just didn't want to jump into a "full blown relationship" yet. In m eyes, if you are going out to dinner with someone regularly, and sleeping with them: this is a relationship. Word to the wise: listen to the WORDS that your partner or lover is saying to you. I thought, well, ok, sure you don't want a relationship, but you continue to call me and see me at least once a week. We are b/f and g/f. Old Guy liked to talk down to me in a condescending way. Being 23 and a newbie to Los Angeles, Old Guy liked to tell me what to do- what car insurance to have, what grocery store to go to, what outfit to wear. I didn't really mind at first. I simply just thought, well, he is older, so he knows- I should listen and take the advice. But in reality, Old Guy just really wanted someone younger to dare I say--- control? I was like a blank canvas, and he prided himself on being able to fill out my colors. Old Guy wasn't affectionate. I wasn't used to this. He didn't really like kissing- instead he went straight for the kill. He also didn't like communicating. The only time I talked to him was when we set up plans to see each other. I would send texts like "Miss you" or " I wish you were here with me" , or "Hope your day is going well!! :0) " And he never responded. I started thinking that I was just a juvinile joke. That I was back in high school again. Old Guy knew he could have things on HIS TERMS because I was putty. A young, inexperienced mess of a girl. All of it was true. And he knew it. Which is why, in hindsight, yes, I do think of him as an ass.
Old Guy broke up with me on a Friday night. He was supposed to pick me up to take me to a movie. We had planned it all week. Old Guy came over at 8pm, and sat on my electric blue corderoy couch from Ikea. He checked his phone while simotaneously telling me that he just "Didn't want this anymore." At this point in our sad little trist, I knew I wasn't into him, I knew he wasn't the one, I knew he hadn't treated me right. But I was desparately trying to hold onto it because I felt it was all I had that was keeping me together. Up until that point, I had never really been single or comepletely alone. If I could just maybe cling to this a little while longer, maybe I would be ok. He walked out at 8:15 and went to the bar with his buddies. I played it as cool as I could at the time. No tears. Well, until he walked out of the building no tears. Once I heard the door shut, I fell to my knees involuntarily and sobbed. And uncontrolably I might add. I realized at that moment, and not before, that I was weeping not really for Old Guy, but for all the pain and suffering I never allowed myself to feel from the Long Term Guy months earlier. Since Old Guy and I started dating RIGHT after my breakup with the 4 year Guy, I didn't have to mourn. I didn't have to feel the emptiness and failure and shear pain of that 1st relationship. That's why I was hanging onto Old Guy for so long. Now, not all May/ December relationships will go like this, and I know that. In a decade or more age difference you will have different cultuaral references, and different memories of things in the past. You may have a different social class, and you may also have a different view of the world. Old Guy for me was a jaded Angeleno with not much hope for the world or for his future. He was a "realist" I thought at the time. Being an adult doesn't mean you are giving up on the world, it means that you accept that there are awful things that happen. You accept there are so many things that you cannot change. But that you overcome- despite all the odds, and you keep going, knowing that sometimes the odds are against you. This is my interpretation of my journey to adulthood anyhow. Go ahead, date older, date younger, date taller, date shorter. Whatever you do though, make sure you are on the same playing field. Make sure that you're even. And don't, under any circumstances ever feel that simply because you are younger, that you're opinions and thoughts don't matter as much. When you start to feel that way in your own Old Guy relatioship, it's time to cut the cord and start figuring out what you actually want out of this life and in a man. Not just what they told you to want. Dating older won't fix your problems or enlighten your life that much more than a man your own age. So unless you simply just want a big pay day like Anna Nicole- I suggest you stay relatively close within your age range. And if you DO decide to go older, know what you may be getting yourself into. Saggy balls and toe rot.
Yes, I just said that. :0)
Coming soon: Kathryne Says... Don't Date the Difficult Guy (Otherwise knows as "the guy no one likes but you")
I had been babied and sheltered from a lot of "real world" realities by my parents, and subsequently by my long term b/f, so once I was out on my own for the very first time, I felt like I belonged sitting at the kid's table, not with the adults. In hindsight, I won't say that Old Guy completely preyed on my naivity, but, well, fine, I will say it: Old Guy TOTALLY preyed on my basketcased, schismed life. (At the time.) This is not to say that all Old Guys will do this, but having been in the dating game much, much longer than us in our early to mid 20's- he knew how to manipulate a situtaion, and honestly, there are some guys out there- and some women for that matter- that simply like projects. That like "broken" people- and sadly, use someone else's pain for their own advantage. Let me break down my experience for you.
Old Guy was 34. I was 23. When he asked me out, I was completely and totally blindsighted because I was feeling pretty worthless at the time of my breakup with Longterm Guy. The relationship had taken everything out of me. It was so all emcompassing, that I wasn't sure I knew who I was without him- I was lost, devastated, and completely clueless. Old Guy took me out for a really, really nice, expensive dinner. I had never been to a restaurant like this- it was beyond fancy... I was certainly underdressed in my hot pink Old Navy lacy tank top, black zip up skirt from H&M, and Chinese Laundry platform pumps. I felt out of place. But maybe this is what dating an older gentleman is like? No more dinners at In and Out or Subway? Maybe it would be champagne and Chicken Marsala every night? Wow. Maybe I could get used to this...
At dinner I talked about my life in NY, and desparately tried to make sure I sounded intelligent, not like a stupid chick in her 20's only interested in frivolous things. I also tried very hard not to talk about the ex. But it was still on my mind- I had only barely moved out and away from him, and here I was now with a NEW man. I was ill- prepared for what happened next.
After dinner, Old Guy took me to his very adult apartment. I felt like I was 12 years old in comparison. My apartment was decorated with pink and purple polka dots, posters from movies I loved, and old photographs my mother took in the 70's. It was also a mess. Old Guy's apartment was clean and perfect. With beige and black as the theme colors- everything matched, his huge LCD TV screen spralled the entire length of the wall. He had a beautiful balcony, and only really healthy food in his kitchen. I didn't want to even touch anything- it almost felt sterile. In a very adult and sophisticated way. We made our way to the couch and started making out. I hadn't been with many men. In fact, my number was pretty low. I also- and this is the God's honest truth- didn't know how pacing went in the world of dating. Because, at 23, I had never really dated. My first and only relationship started when I was still in college at 19, and was a friendship that turned into kissing that then turned into love. So on the "getting to know you basis" of dating- I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I was very much a novice. Maybe it was just simply stupidity or the inability to say "no" at the time, but I was also just trying to move on. Old Guy slipped my bra off within 10 minutes of making out. Had this been high school or college, I would have slapped his face and walked out. But now, I was in the "real world". Was I prude? He is 34, he is an adult, and if I can't keep up, then he will just find someone else. And he wants ME now. Go with it, dummy. So I did.
It is my personal belief that whenever it is that one enters "the real world" - whether it is after high school at 18, or after college at 22, or after grad school at 25, that even though your driver's liscence SAYS you are an adult- you really aren't. Not quite yet. See, I had been out in the "real world" since I was 21. But I had never been alone, and I was not privy to so many things. It takes years of working a job, making your rent, and learning lessons the hard way to make an adult. And some of us never get there. Come on, we all have that Uncle Bernie that's 50, never married, works in "business" or finance" and cruises women half his age. I believe that until you've had your heart broken into a thousand pieces, until you've tried your damndest for a job and lost it, until you've been so broke you couldn't afford bread, and until you realize that there a million other people better and more talented than you for any given job, and that there is nothing you can do about it- then you aren't an adult. Being an adult means not only being responsible blah,blah, blah, but also having humility. I haven't reached that point yet, even now. I still believe I am the best person you will ever find for the job, that someday I will develop the ability to fly, and that every single one of my dreams will come true. (And that unicorns exist in a land called Zambia.) Being an adult to me is letting reality sink in. Admitting your shortcomings. Given thatI haven't really done this yet, I will go out on a limb and say that maybe when you turn 30, you are officially an adult. I digress.
Old Guy and I slept together the first date. It was pretty horrible. I didn't know what I was doing, and I was super uncomfortable the whole time. When you are in a relationship, you get used to your partner's ticks and what not. I was not at all prepared to be with someone new. But I told myself that this was a neccessary step to moving on. Old Guy then played the waiting game with me. In the months that we went out, he told me that I was "amazing" but that he just didn't want to jump into a "full blown relationship" yet. In m eyes, if you are going out to dinner with someone regularly, and sleeping with them: this is a relationship. Word to the wise: listen to the WORDS that your partner or lover is saying to you. I thought, well, ok, sure you don't want a relationship, but you continue to call me and see me at least once a week. We are b/f and g/f. Old Guy liked to talk down to me in a condescending way. Being 23 and a newbie to Los Angeles, Old Guy liked to tell me what to do- what car insurance to have, what grocery store to go to, what outfit to wear. I didn't really mind at first. I simply just thought, well, he is older, so he knows- I should listen and take the advice. But in reality, Old Guy just really wanted someone younger to dare I say--- control? I was like a blank canvas, and he prided himself on being able to fill out my colors. Old Guy wasn't affectionate. I wasn't used to this. He didn't really like kissing- instead he went straight for the kill. He also didn't like communicating. The only time I talked to him was when we set up plans to see each other. I would send texts like "Miss you" or " I wish you were here with me" , or "Hope your day is going well!! :0) " And he never responded. I started thinking that I was just a juvinile joke. That I was back in high school again. Old Guy knew he could have things on HIS TERMS because I was putty. A young, inexperienced mess of a girl. All of it was true. And he knew it. Which is why, in hindsight, yes, I do think of him as an ass.
Old Guy broke up with me on a Friday night. He was supposed to pick me up to take me to a movie. We had planned it all week. Old Guy came over at 8pm, and sat on my electric blue corderoy couch from Ikea. He checked his phone while simotaneously telling me that he just "Didn't want this anymore." At this point in our sad little trist, I knew I wasn't into him, I knew he wasn't the one, I knew he hadn't treated me right. But I was desparately trying to hold onto it because I felt it was all I had that was keeping me together. Up until that point, I had never really been single or comepletely alone. If I could just maybe cling to this a little while longer, maybe I would be ok. He walked out at 8:15 and went to the bar with his buddies. I played it as cool as I could at the time. No tears. Well, until he walked out of the building no tears. Once I heard the door shut, I fell to my knees involuntarily and sobbed. And uncontrolably I might add. I realized at that moment, and not before, that I was weeping not really for Old Guy, but for all the pain and suffering I never allowed myself to feel from the Long Term Guy months earlier. Since Old Guy and I started dating RIGHT after my breakup with the 4 year Guy, I didn't have to mourn. I didn't have to feel the emptiness and failure and shear pain of that 1st relationship. That's why I was hanging onto Old Guy for so long. Now, not all May/ December relationships will go like this, and I know that. In a decade or more age difference you will have different cultuaral references, and different memories of things in the past. You may have a different social class, and you may also have a different view of the world. Old Guy for me was a jaded Angeleno with not much hope for the world or for his future. He was a "realist" I thought at the time. Being an adult doesn't mean you are giving up on the world, it means that you accept that there are awful things that happen. You accept there are so many things that you cannot change. But that you overcome- despite all the odds, and you keep going, knowing that sometimes the odds are against you. This is my interpretation of my journey to adulthood anyhow. Go ahead, date older, date younger, date taller, date shorter. Whatever you do though, make sure you are on the same playing field. Make sure that you're even. And don't, under any circumstances ever feel that simply because you are younger, that you're opinions and thoughts don't matter as much. When you start to feel that way in your own Old Guy relatioship, it's time to cut the cord and start figuring out what you actually want out of this life and in a man. Not just what they told you to want. Dating older won't fix your problems or enlighten your life that much more than a man your own age. So unless you simply just want a big pay day like Anna Nicole- I suggest you stay relatively close within your age range. And if you DO decide to go older, know what you may be getting yourself into. Saggy balls and toe rot.
Yes, I just said that. :0)
Coming soon: Kathryne Says... Don't Date the Difficult Guy (Otherwise knows as "the guy no one likes but you")
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