The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to obedience and warmth.

In love, you feel the most alive when your partner is patient and never willing to give up on you.

You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring.

You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance.

Your ideal relationship is traditional. Without saying anything, both of you communicate with your hearts.

Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.

You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred.

In this moment, you think of love as something you can get or discard anytime. You're feeling self centered.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

Guard your heart

One of the more insidious of all the Post Evangelical Christian sub-culture phrases is “guard your heart.” This phrase, often said to me by other women when I revealed the onset of a new crush, dashed my hopes like nothing else. I always heard it as:

“You have a snowball’s chance in hell of that boy liking you back,”

Or…

“Don’t let yourself entertain anything frivolous that is not directly related to doing the will of God through ministry.”

Or…

“You don’t want what happened last time to happen again, do you?”

It was, I thought, a remarkable lack of generosity masking itself as “godly wisdom,” and hinted at the modern day church’s inability to see God as anything but a deity who only ever acted in a prescriptive, prosaic manner. Yawn.

In my early 20s there was nothing more thrilling or more devastating (and that was part of the thrill then) than a new crush. So much potential. Someone to think about during the unpleasant or mundane aspects of day-to-day life.

Having been sobered by the indulgence of a slew of ill-fated (often long-standing) crushes by this time, the last of which has ended just 7 months shy of my 32nd birthday, I would say that it’s time to revisit the old “guard your heart” mantra.

The spirit of this message is not, I realize now, “don’t have hope,” but “don’t get ahead of yourself.” “Make sure this investment is sound before you put everything on the table.” I knew what it was supposed to mean a long time ago, but still resisted the sentiment on principle. I believed that it was woefully unimaginative and restricted the extravagance of a loving God. I conveniently forgot that God, in all of his lush and luxurious gifts, never once flouts His own will or the integrity of his own character or Word (which may often frustrate my concept of logic, not because He is illogical, but more because He is in no way bound to my idea of what “makes sense” and what does not.).

In thinking of Frost’s poem about the diverging roads in a wood, I am forced to ask myself, would taking the other road, for once, make all the difference? Next time I will do the unthinkable. I will guard my heart.

Equilibrium

For the last several weeks, I would say that the status quo was that my equilibrium was in tact. Feeling very much in control of my self--living on my own terms, seeing progress in the crucial category of physical fitness, knowing that I have detoxed from the vices of caffeine and unrequited love (though not completely from the latter, perhaps), I have lately felt open to the idea of being open to more in the way of a relationship...not immediately, but at some point, which is a very different place than I was even three weeks ago.

Just yesterday morning my weigh-in revealed a cumulative 37-pound loss. Needless to say, I felt that I was floating on a cloud. My power walk yesterday evening was informed by renewed vim and vigor. My sister had arrived, unpacked, happily settling in. Things were brimming with possibility and hope.

Then this morning the news that I have been expecting came. I have been waiting, on a conscious level, for the disclosure that he is engaged. I did not hear this in a direct way. I was left off the missive that informed everyone. But two of my friends were included. My hard-won sense of balance was compromised again, phrases from that forwarded e-mail running on a mental ticker tape through my mind all day while I tried to focus on the tasks at hand.

There is something about the manifestation of what you dread that changes the shape of a day, an hour, a minute, a second. When a word (a seed) becomes rhema (fulfilled)the world shifts.

I know that I will get my balance back. And in truth, I did not fall, though I stumbled. Winston Churchill wisely counseled "If you're going through hell, keep going." This is not the end for me. I just have to keep going through until I come out the other side.

Imminent Events

Engagements and marriages abound. One in particular.

The bag ripped mid-lift. Because Sarah and I did major grocery shopping yesterday morning and afternoon, we thought it best to bring my stuff to my apartment even though I was spending the night at her place.

In truth, I should I have known I could not carry those four bags at once, but I was determined to do it in one trip. Just as I heard the tear, I also heard a man's voice asking me if I needed help. I looked up, smiled and said I did, and had him lift two of those bags into the lobby of my building.

I am so accustomed to figuring out how to manage unwieldy (and often heavy) packages, arrange for the moving/delivery of heavy things, and negotiate the running of my own household in all its various facets, that the simple offer of help, and my ability to accept it was staggering to me. Under normal circumstances, I might have said no, figuring it was not this man's job to stop what he was doing to help me with my groceries. I might have considered that it was my role to get myself out of that minor jam...

One of the obvious benefits of coupledom would be to have help, as a matter of course, where such matters are concerned. It makes me think of Ecclesiastes 4:9-11:

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work:
If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls
and has no one to help him up! Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?"

In any case, I am now back in my apartment (have been since about 11:30 a.m.) and have completed Phase II of the cleaning in anticipation of my sister's arrival. I'm so wiped out I could take a nap, and I almost never nap anymore...

Cleaning Phase I Completed

After eating the small amount of leftover Afghan food (from Wednesday's outing) supplemented by roasted brussel sprouts and carrots, I went out for about a two-mile walk (with free weights). It felt so primitive compared to my gym workouts. But hey, I shouldn't knock it. I lost the first twenty pounds just doing that two or three times a week.

Cleaning is wonderfully invigorating. I finished sweeping, mopping, and wiping the kitchen by about 9:00, and then finally got the gumption to move my cd shelf from the bedroom into the hallway, so that I could rearrange the bed and open up the room some more. My sister is bringing her keyboard (w/stand), so creating a place for it was crucial.

Tomorrow, when I return from Sarah's, I'll do more dusting and sweeping. I'll also clean the bathroom. But today, I go wholesale club shopping. With two people in the house buying some things in bulk suddenly sounds like a good idea.

At this point, I'm just waiting for Sarah to arrive. We'll begin with breakfast at the One World (I am in love with their 7-grain pancakes!), then we'll push off onto our shopping adventure.

Last Night's poetry group was spirited. Our host served a tangy whole wheat penne pasta salad and also provided chocolate covered strawberries. I picked up some dessert from Whole Foods (the piece de reistance of which was a raspberry chocolate cake with butter cream frosting) to take to the fete.

I had been struggling all day to come up with a poetic offering for the evening. I ended up crafting a piece about the dinner with C and Desperately the night before, prosaically titled "The Dinner Engagement."

Blast it! It's a gloomy glum day here in Charm City. No matter. I have tons of housecleaning to do this evening. There is dusting and polishing the furniture, sweeping the floors, plumping sofa cushions, cleaning the counters, mopping the kitchen floor, and scrubbing the bathroom.

Caryl is coming on Sunday and Saturday I will spend with Sarah,so it's all about tonight (with finishing touches done on Sunday morning before Caryl's arrival). I have three Netflix DVDs to get through as well. I think I'll be watching one of them while I clean. Don't ask me how, but I've learned to watch films while not being in the same room with the tv.

Haven't slept particularly well any night this week, and it's starting to show...

Everybody Plays The Fool Sometimes (or, I didn't Mean To Turn You On)

As I was getting ready for dinner at the Helmand last night, I checked my e-mail to find that my prof had written asking if I'd like to reclaim custody of my bread knife...that evening. He was headed back out of town on Friday morning and last night was the best time for him. I shot him a reply letting him know that I had dinner plans, but that I'd pick up my knife on the way home. We agreed that I would call him to determine a place to meet.

Once C, my classmate and fellow poet, picked me up we headed to the Mt. Vernon neighborhood where I used to live. We were rerouted by detours due to Baltimore's Annual flower show. We eventually found parking, and didn't arrive at the restaurant too late, all things considered.

Desperately was already there waiting. He seemed subdued, initially, which gave him a fairly natural air. I almost felt that I had nothing to worry about, but I set to work on all the verbal and non-verbal cues I could think of to establish my lack of interest, anyway.

As I told C on our drive downtown, I never had any intention of making more plans with him, so I was willing to be as obnoxious, within socially acceptable parameters, as need be.

The evening went along fairly well with the three of us sharing anecdotes (well he mostly talked about how overworked he is), C played along delightfully and subtly.

At some point, Desperately began to come to pep up a bit and called me "darling," something he's done once before prior to our initial hangout. I thought he was just being cheeky at the time, and I didn't yet know him as "Desperately" then, so I thought it was kind of funny. This time, however:

Me: "What did you just call me?"
Desperately: "Darling...is that all right?"
Me: "Is that what you call all your women friends?"
Desperately: "I call my women friends any number of things."
Me: Non-committal noise of disapproval.

(he may have won that round)

When he excused himself at one point, C said to me, "I think he's interpreting your snarkiness and detachment as feistyness and positive attention. Think about it, how many women ever pay any attention to him, and while it's clear to me what you're doing, I think it's more attention than he ever gets..."

"Great," I said.

It would seem that he is incredibly obtuse. As C pointed out, she would have known, if she was him, as soon as I told him that if the 18th did not work for him in terms of hanging out, that I would just send him a check for the money I owed him...

Because D doesn't care for cheese (this has come up twice now), I snarkily referred to him as "the boy who doesn't like cheese," which I simply can't understand. It has nothing to do with lactose intolerance. He just can't see that it adds anything. Fair enough, I guess, but I still can't relate.

So after an evening of me talking about how adorable other men are, calling him "the boy who doesn't like cheese," and calling him on calling me "darling," he said "well this has been fun. When can we do it again?"

C attempted to deflect and said she'd have to check her schedule. I said I was busy all summer. In one final attempt at something, D says to me "well, I do have your card." I made another non-commital noise.

Before we departed, I reiterated that he should have a good summer, he said, "I'll miss you..." I made another disgust noise. Quell Nightmare.

I guess I'm in the right profession...

My favourite Baltimore Sun Columnist,Gregory Kane, e-mailed me today. As is my custom, I read his column every week,and yesterday when I accessed it online, I noticed a date error. In a somewhat uncharacteristic move, I elected to point out the error via the Sun's commenting field.

Then, I forgot all about it.

This afternoon, the man himself wrote to me to say that I caught an error that he, a line editor, a copyeditor, and a slot editor had all missed. Then he asked, partially in jest, if I was looking for work as an editor. In his second message, he assured me that if he ever heard of an opening he would mention my name, because afterall, what could anyone say, that I wasn't qualified?

Wild Mushroom Quesadilla

I realized, too late, that I didn't really have any vegetables yesterday. I had a bit of leftover spinach at lunch, but it was hardly a full serving. Dinner last night was scallops and whole wheat spaghetti (w/tomato sauce), and I could have easily added a vegetable accompaniment, but forgot to... I know this isn't the end of the world, but given that I just ate a quesadilla for lunch, I think I need to maybe have a salad or something, too, because two days without anything green is not ideal.

Nothing much is new. Oh, I made reservations at the Helmand for Wednesday. I have a scheduled outing with my classmate and that kid, Desperately Desperateson, at 6 p.m.

Comme Une Image (Look At Me)

My reading companion had to bow out due to a sore throat. I decided that I didn't want to go to the reading alone, and since I have no friends close by whom I can comfortably call up for a spontaneous outing, I decided not to go...

but then I got a brilliant idea. It had been a while since I'd gone to the movies alone, and I wondered what foreign/art house pieces might be available at the Rotunda Cinemathique, or The Charles.

After months of spending time as a link under my "Current Film of Choice" section, I finally saw "Look at Me." The Charles came through with this film, as I knew it would at some point. It was 12:49 when I saw the movie listed as a currently showing film on their site, with a 2:00 p.m. start time. Not long from my workout, I knew I would need to shower again, but given the relative close distance of my apartment to the theatre, I also knew I'd have time to clean up, get money from an atm, hail a cab, and get there with at least 20 minutes to spare.

Definitely worth the 6 dollars. I tend toward the French aesthetic in cinema. I enjoy the understated humour, the pathos, the themes of emotionally disenfranchised outsiders, love where you least expect it, and the desire to be counted...

The theme of this specific film resonated quite deeply. The principal character is an overweight girl who wants her father to acknowledge her, to see her, for once. But each of the supporting characters is also unseen in some profound way. The girl's myopia never really allows her to recognize that, fully, but there is movement in the character. In the end, it was a very satisfying experience.

Sidebar anecdote: I've noticed that The Charles draws a lot of older people, and by older I mean elderly patrons... I think it's wonderful that Baltimore has an 80+ indie film contingent. But... there was a senior couple in the movie today that I found just a tad annoying. Apparently the husband could't read the subtitles very well, or follow the plot visually, because the wife kept loudly 'whispering' "She's upset because she's fat."

12 Days!

Starting Thursday, May 19th through Monday, May 30th, the gym will be closed due to commencement and scheduled maintenance. This is reasonable given that it's a university facility, but what on earth am I going to do?! I guess I'll have to start doing my resistance bands at home, coupled with power walking the track again, but I'll miss out on the lowerbody lifting that I just can't do at home. Thankfully, I have my 3 pound weights, so I don't have to completely miss out on arm work. I'm up to 30 crunches a day now, too. Every little bit will help...

Life is so funny. Just when one obstruction is cleared, another one slides in to take its place. I have been waiting for the end of the semester with baited breath so that I could start to go to the gym 5 times a week, consistently. So what happens? The week arrives when I can finally do that, and the gym is scheduled to shut down not even half-way through that week.

Here is the upside to the timing of this:

My sister is coming on the 20th or 21st, so I will not be tempted to forego giving the apartment a thorough cleaning before her arrival in favour of workout sessions. And I can burn some calories sweeping, scrubbing, wiping, etc.

It will also give us an opportunity to bond and settle into our snug living arrangement, too. Everything happens for a reason. I'm trying to embrace what transpires instead of fighting against it.

For example, at the beginning of April the elevator in my building was closed off for all use because it is being replaced (and this is necessary, believe me). It is still out of service, and the last I heard, would be until the end of May. Now this has been an inconvenience on many levels, but the timing perfectly coincided with my fitness efforts. So, essentially, I've gotten some free, enforced cardio! I may keep taking the stairs even after the new unit is up and running. We'll see...

Church this morning was comforting. The congregation is going through a series on the Book of Ruth, entitled "Radical Love Stories." At this point in my life, I want to focus on God's sovereign husbandry of me, instead of looking for a stop-gap male to fantasize about. I see that I am still so susceptible to that temptation...that being to manufacture emotions toward someone to feed my addiction to being rejected.

I watched "What the Bleep Do We Know?" yesterday, and while I don't buy everything about the proffered theories, I see the wonder and majesty of God in the study of Quantum Physics. I was amazed, again, by the idea that our cells are preprogrammed toward given "mindsets," if you will. Every time a thought pattern is interrupted, long-standing relationships between cellular structures and synapses are broken. A Thought is an imprint that, over time, changes the shape of the body.

Is it any wonder that all battles are lost and won in the mind, and the result can be seen physically manifested in the body?

The Apartment at Night

My sister the chanteuse

The cat who won my heart... In memoriam to Silver

Trinity of Tealights

Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining...

What a treat! A springtime thunderstorm. I love storms...I find them beautiful, lovely, the perfect accompaniment to jazz, self-introspection, and nice steaming cup of coffee or tea.

I started the process of making room for C today. In order to give her her own closet, I cleared out the one in the hall, took some things downstairs to my storage unit, put others in my closet, or in the kitchen, if appropriate. Tomorrow, at some point after the gym but before the reading in Hampden I'm attending with one of the women in my poetry group, I'll move the bookshelf of cds into the hallway.

Haven't been to FCF (Faith Christian Fellowship) in months. Because Sarah's moving away is imminent (she and Michael are headed down to NC this weekend for his audition. Praying people, pray!), I've been spending a lot of Sundays with her (the most convenient day for us to hang out), and aside from that, on the Sundays that I am at home, I was not very motivated to go. Very suddenly, I just lost my steam. In any case, I've decided that I am going to the 8 a.m. service tomorrow. I am really looking forward to having the corporate worship experience.

Lately, I've taken to eating mangos a bit differently (for me, anyway). Just taking off the peel with my thumb and forefinger, and holding the whole fleshy mess with both hands, biting around the core. Such a passionate fruit should be eaten with gusto. And I'm too impatient for slicing right now.

The Wonderful Girl You scored 61 looks, 72 personality, 83 politics, and 25 sex drive!

You're extremely nice, beautiful, and know your politics. Your sex drive is a little low, but that's not as important as love is it? You will make someone a great wife or girlfriend someday, if you haven't already. You're the kind of girl that everyone secretly wants. Most people claim that they want your opposite, the sex machine, but in all honesty we want the nice one. With a little sex drive you would be perfect, but maybe you haven't even had sex yet, and for that I commend you.

Link: The What Kind of Girl are You Test written by ramonaaronperez on OkCupid Free Online Dating

Michael and I ordered chinese food for lunch yesterday. I went with shrimp and broccoli (no rice)...a fairly conservative choice (I ate as little as possible of the oily sauce) for takeout. Tonight, after the gym, I made a very health-friendly version of the same. I used canola cooking spray to saute the shrimp (plenty of Old Bay, of course). I added a good dose of Shitake Mushroom Sauce, too. I boiled the broccoli for only a minute or so, then removed the water. It was that bright green colour that lets you know the vitamin content is still intact (the worst thing you can do to a green vegetable is cook it within an inch of its life). Then, I added it into the pan with the shrimp. So light. So delicious. Almost no fat and little prep time.

This evening's workout consisted of the elliptical, the stairmaster, the rowing machine, and some lifting. Not too bad after all was said and done. I came home and did crunches; I try for at least 15 a night. I know that's by no means a ridiculous number, but I figure consistency is more important for me than quantity at this point.

My report card came today. Of course grades are not in yet, so I got that stupid "M" beside the class name, but I did get the benefit of seeing a lovely A beside the column for Poetry and Poetics, the class I hated at first.

Finished

I couldn't find my keys this morning. I realized this just after Michael called me to tell me he'd be outside my building to pick me up for work in just a couple of minutes. Panic ensued. I eventually found them under my pillow. It's a wonder I didn't dream about doors that I couldn't open.

Fortunately, for me, my boss was out sick today. This was a good turn only because I really needed to spend some time finalizing my final paper for the Contemporary American Writers class that wrapped up tonight, and I couldn't very well do that with any ease with her happening by my desk and random intervals.

Per the instrucotr we all brought "celebratory eats" for the fete. There was quite a nice spread, including 3 different kinds of beer, chips, bread, dips, cookies. I had more alcohol than anything else during the first half of class and spent that hour in a relative shroud of unaffected peace of mind. The discussion was interesting from this vantage point. Everyone seemed so impassioned. I followed the conversation, but didn't proffer any thoughts of my own.

I realized that I hadn't eaten since lunch time, which is why I felt that half a beer and 3/4 of a glass of wine. During the break, I got some of the food, but restrained myself to very limited portions.

Blast it all, but I ended up leaving my breadknife and tea towel behind! I sure hope someone picked them up and will return both to me. I sent out an e-mail once I got home. If these items are irretrievably lost, then I invoke the spirit of Elizabeth Bishop's "One Art," and say "the art of losing isn't hard to master/ so many things seem filled with the intent/ to be lost that their loss is no disaster."

The long day of the spring semester is over. Now I just wait for the grade report, then I relax with Caryl all summer.

Fitness-related Pet Peeves

It is not only common courtesy, but a rule at public gymnasiums that one wipe off, using a solution (provided by the gym), any equipment that one has used once one is finished with that machine. Essentially, you are not permitted to leave your sweat on any equipment.

I am noticing a disturbing trend among some of the clientele that frequent my fitness facility. I have seen a few offenders "wipe" off machines with their own towels (already soaked with their sweat!), or half-heartedly with their own hands (what?!), or not at all... they just walk away, sociopathic and whatnot... either not thinking of the next person who may come in after them, assuming the machine has been cleaned...or not caring. either way.

Another bothersome trend is the sizing attributed to workout gear. Wanting to trade in my old (now baggy)sweats for some more streamlined workout pants, I went shopping this past Saturday. I still weigh enough to merit an extra large in most things, so I automatically went for the XL bottoms. When I tried them on, I fit them, but in no way comfortably. As a matter of fact that "XL" felt more like a large to me. Not only were they too small, but weren't even cut right for my body. The pervasive theme seems to be that you can't wear true work out clothes unless you are already relatively thin, and have a body of a specific shape.

I know there are specialty stores/catalogues where larger people can buy comfortable (and more expensive) exercise clothing, but I really do believe there should be a greater variety of sizes available in stores and sports shops. Maybe I'm not looking hard enough?

I'm determined to go this year...

Roasted Zucchini & Baby Carrots tossed w/Honey and Thyme in Roasted Red Pepper and Tomato Soup...

Was what I had for dinner last night. I loved the earthy thyme softened by the honey coated with the smoky flavour of the commingled tomato, garlic, and pepper. It was simply delicious, and was the perfect segue between my workout and working on my final paper for class. Before going to the gym, I ate half of a Kashi Go Lean protein bar, so I didn't really miss the meat/soy component of dinner at all.

I lit my mango and tahitian vanilla scented candles, then did crunches on the yoga mat while watching sitcoms in syndication.

When I sat down to my computer to compose my final essay, I had less than a page of it already done. Before I went to bed last night, I was well onto the 4th page of what need only be a 6-page affair. I'll finish it up tonight after the gym.

Currently, I'm on my first cup of green tea. The cream coloured gerber daisies I bought yesterday are sunning themselves. They look so sleek and dainty standing in the makeshift Boylan Bottle Works vase I made for them.

In just under two weeks my sister will move in with me for the summer. She got a job here at my company! I guess I should start intentionally enjoying living alone for the next week and a half. For the next three months, that independent living I enjoy so much will be on hiatus.

M is for the Many things she gave me...

I left work on Friday evening and from there went directly to the train station to get the 5:25 to DC. I went to spend the entire weekend with my mother, and truthfully, I was more looking forward to it than not. I felt hopeful that we could get through the weekend with little manipulation or childishness on either side. We've been talking on the phone a lot lately and bonding over our mutual fitness efforts. Things have been nice. Good even.

I was about 15 minutes later than I told her I'd be. Once I got to Union Station, I missed the first possible subway train going in the direction of her house, and during peak hours, especially if you have to transfer at any point, missing one train can easily add about 10 to 15 minutes to your ETA.

As was the case back in the old days when I rode the commuter train from Baltimore to DC and back again every day, I was lulled to sleep within minutes. A very literary sleep in which the sentence "the body has a memory," kept repeating, like a mantra, in my head. Interspersed between this refrain were lines from Elizabeth Bishop's poem "One Art" in which she discusses grief with detached irony and encourages people to embrace loss...that it's no disaster...and I kept thinking of the line "practice losing farther, losing faster..." and then from nowhere "the body has a memory," would crop up like the beat you count by in a song.

My sleep was train-feverish. I missed Gordon, I realized. All this had to do with being back in the context in which I spent much time thinking about him. Like coffee, the train is a symbol of our association, and specifically of my longing. I dreamt in phrases. "I've lost him so entirely," I thought at one point.

This train of thought was palpable and mutual. I discovered, hours later, before I went to bed on Friday night, that he'd sent me an e-mail. I've yet to reply. At first I was certain that I would, now I'm not so sure.

Mom and I were both hungry, so after hugs we headed to The Golden Corral. Let me just say right here and now that my mother's idea of heaven is the buffet-style restaurant. I have always preferred sitting down and being served one plate of specifically chosen food to the "pigs at the trough" model of eating, so how much more now that I am being health conscious?

I didn't do too badly, but it's difficult to mind one's Ps and Qs at a place where the vegetables are boiled within an inch of their lives, and as a result are tasteless, and where everything else is fat laden.

Friday night and Saturday morning were pleasantly uneventful and included another meal out, this time at a steakhouse (my suggestion). I had a very crisp wedge salad, which is by no means conservative (mom and I shared it); a steamed vegetable medley which was delicious. It tasted as though the verdant zucchini, the lemon yellow squash, and the bright orange carrots had been tossed in just a bit of honey; sirloin tips (of which I ate very few because the veggies were filling); and smashed potatoes, all of which I gave to my mother, save for one forkful that I ate just to taste the magic.

Then came the unfortunate event. I attended a bookclub meeting with my mom that in retrospect I should not have gone to. I knew the topic was going revolve around the life of Christ, and I know that I have a lot of trouble being neutral about it. I don't think Jesus is up for debate. People can and do feel their own way about him, but I think what he said about himself trumps all of that as objective fact. Anyway, Let's just say that while my point may have been valid, I didn't handle the way I discussed my point super-well. I ended up leaving in a huff and waiting outside for my mom and Jim to finish up with the group so we could go grocery shopping.

I picked up some puffed millet and found fat-free soy-milk (so that's breakfast this morning)in addition to tuna, a couple of soups, honey, whole wheat bread...things like that.

Running around with my mom and her compadre, I was completely out of control of the schedule. Fortunately, I was full enough from lunch that I didn't feel that I was about to die of hunger (and I picked up a Naked Food-Juice from whole foods for a snack) or anything, but I didn't eat any dinner until 10:30 Saturday night! Technically too late to be taking in new food, but just as bad to skip a meal, too, so I cut up one of the zucchini I'd purchased, sauteed it in canola cooking spray, then later added my leftover sirloin tips. Delicious, but pretty heavy, especially for that time of night.

See, after the disastrous book club and the shopping, my mother had to "see a woman about some jewelry." Naturally, because my mother is an extremely social creature, every errand turns into a visit. I was unnerved the entire time we were at this woman's house, because her parakeet flies around freely, and frankly, though I know many people allow their birds to do this, I cannot relax with a bird flying above my head in an enclosed space!

Sunday morning. Didn't know how I would feel about my mom's church which seems a little hoakey to me, but I actually enjoyed myself, and found their Christianity/Meditation fusion to be interesting. Jim's mother attended the service with us...then off to another buffet. This one was decidedly upscale and held in the dining area of a fairly nice hotel. But the pressure to eat more than one plate of food is intense, otherwise, you are totally missing out on the value of the buffet concept!

I got salmon and asparagus tips (in a decadent cream sauce) along with chessie potatoes. Later, I got a spring medley of veggies, mushroom ravioli, and something else, which I forget. For dessert, 3/4 of a slice of spice cake, and cup of coffee with cream, but no sugar. I calculated that meal at roughly 800 calories. Fortuitous, since it was lunch, and if one is going to "celebrate," it should be earlier on in the day. For breakfast I'd had cereal with soy milk (all my mom uses now)so, I still had a good amount of calorie inventory left over for dinner.

The day was just beginning. Once in St. Mary's county, we picked up my sister then drove to one of my mother's favourite haunts in Calvert county for dinner. This sad, decrepit little tikki lounge where the food is only fair, but that sits on the water. I did broiled seafood and had a sub par pina colada. I've decided that I loathe eating out! I am so sick of having to eat something I'm either not interested in, where no nuturional information is available, or something that just isn't healthy.

I got home at about midnight, because of course, we had to unload some of my sister's stuff back to my mom's house before I could go home. It was just a long, long day. The weekend was more pleasant than not, but I lost two days of having reasonable control over my eating plan and schedule, two days of working on my final paper for class, and two days of working out.

It was hard not to feel that it was worth it when my mother cried when I told her what I got for her...It hasn't yet arrived, but it's what she wanted.

Haughty Intellectual You are 71% Rational, 42% Extroverted, 42% Brutal, and 71% Arrogant.

You are the Haughty Intellectual. You are a very rational person, emphasizing logic over emotion, and you are also rather arrogant and self-aggrandizing. You probably think of yourself as an intellectual, and you would like everyone to know it. Not only that, but you also tend to look down on others, thinking yourself better than them. You could possibly have an unhealthy obsession with yourself as well, thus causing everyone to hate you for being such an elitist twat. On top of all that, you are also introverted and gentle. This means that you are just a quiet thinker who wants fame and recognition, in all likelihood. Rather lacking in emotion, introspective, gentle, and arrogant, you are most certainly a Haughty Intellectual! And, most likely, you will never achieve the recognition or fame you so desire! Sweet! To put it less negatively: 1. You are more RATIONAL than intuitive. 2. You are more INTROVERTED than extroverted. 3. You are more GENTLE than brutal. 4. You are more ARROGANT than humble. Compatibility: Your exact opposite is the Schoolyard Bully. (Bullies like to beat up nerds, after all.) Other personalities you would probably get along with are the Braggart, the Hand-Raiser, and the Robot. * * If you scored near fifty percent for a certain trait (42%-58%), you could very well go either way. For example, someone with 42% Extroversion is slightly leaning towards being an introvert, but is close enough to being an extrovert to be classified that way as well. Below is a list of the other personality types so that you can determine which other possible categories you may fill if you scored near fifty percent for certain traits. The other personality types: The Emo Kid: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Humble. The Starving Artist: Intuitive, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Bitch-Slap: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Humble. The Brute: Intuitive, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Hippie: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble. The Televangelist: Intuitive, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Schoolyard Bully: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble. The Class Clown: Intuitive, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Robot: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Humble. The Haughty Intellectual: Rational, Introverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Spiteful Loner: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Humble. The Sociopath: Rational, Introverted, Brutal, Arrogant. The Hand-Raiser: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Humble. The Braggart: Rational, Extroverted, Gentle, Arrogant. The Capitalist Pig: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Humble. The Smartass: Rational, Extroverted, Brutal, Arrogant.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 50% on Rationality You scored higher than 50% on Extroversion You scored higher than 40% on Brutality You scored higher than 78% on Arrogance

Link: The Personality Defect Test written by saint_gasoline on OkCupid Free Online Dating

I'm It!

From Muddyart's most recent post:

If you're tagged, you need to choose 5 (or more if you like) occupations from the list below and then finish the sentence for each that you've chosen.

You then tag three more people who must do the same. You can add more occupations to the list when you pass it on but you must choose your 5 from the list provided by the person who tagged you. You're also asked to trackback to the blogger who tagged you if you know how.

If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an innkeeper...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama-rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate...
If I could be a service member...
If I could be a photographer...
If I could be a philanthropist...
If I could be a rap artist...
If I could be a child actor...
If I could be a secret agent...
If I could be a comedian/comedienne...
If I could be a priest...
If I could be a radio announcer...
If I could be a phlebotomist...
If I could be Paris Hilton's stylist...
If I could be the CEO of Microsoft..
If I could be a movie producer.
If I could be a laser hair removal specialist...
If I could be a dog groomer...
If I could be a bicycle repairman...
If I could be a member of the Royal Family...

here are my additions to the list:

If I could be an editor....
If I could win the Nobel Peace Prize....
If I could invent a new no-cal drink....
If I could be a member of the President's cabinet...

If I could be a writer I would write novels about the drama and intellectually-hellacious pas de deux of relationships. I would also write pulitzer prize-winning volumes of free-verse poetry.

If I could be Paris Hilton's stylist, I would help her get some...style, that is.

If I could be a professor, I would teach comparitive literature, and devote an entire class to Anna Karenina.

If I had been a child actor, I would have been one of the few to not star in a porn flick or do drugs.

If I could be a rap artist, my debut album would be called "All you Sucker MCs better just back up off me."

P.S. I tagged Catchka, Michael, and Sarah.

Michelangelo's David

Working from the disegno paradigm, the artist considered that the essence of his David was already present in the block of marble and that he was simply cutting away whatever was not David.

As I'm watching my own body change, I find this notion even more intriguing and romantic than I did before. I am simply chiseling what is not myself to become more fully formed as myself. The Greeks definitely gloried in the physical form and praised it, when athletic and in top condition, as an indication of a sound mind.
The Latin idea for this is men san in corpo sano.

Exercising has given me a mental clarity I wasn't expecting. My clear mind enables me to be commited to my exercise routine. Now that I have put food in its proper place and have an appropriate perspective on it, my body is better able to do the things I want it to do.

Now we begin to form the abdomen...one stroke at a time...

My Stock Is Plummeting...

If RetroStats is anything to go by. It must be all the prosaic entries I've been posting lately.

Well, here's a little intrigue for the faithful few that remain.

The kid I "hung out" with a couple of weeks ago both annoyed and repulsed me during the course of my last Tuesday night class of the semester. Last week he off-handedly suggested that the next time we try out The Helmand (Afghan restaurant of excellent repute here in the city), as you may recall. This was perfectly fine and in keeping with our agreement that the next meal would be on me. No boundaries overstepped. No presumption of anything. He wasn't weird.

Leading up to class all day on Tuesday, though, I felt uneasy. I sensed that there would be uncomfortable tension with him. So, I deliberately sat one seat down from where I usually do. True to my expectations, he adjusted himself so he was sitting next to me. He led with "You owe me a meal; don't think I've forgotten about that." I understood this to be his attempt at another off-handed reminder that he and I are supposed to go out again. But his neediness was so bald and obvious in that moment, and as a result of being embarrassed for him because of that, I became detached and formal. I assured him that I had not forgotten, adding "I get paid at the middle of the month, and at the end, so again, it will have to be at one of those times."

As we were going over poems, he found himself without copies of two of them, which meant he'd have to look on with me. I was so determined not to given him any fuel for the fire, that I simply gave him my copies, then looked on with the person sitting next to me. In that moment I felt that by simply being alive I was encouraging him! He made other half-baked attempts at humour/flirting that I dodged and deflected with an icy stare.

I left class quickly because I was concerned that he was going to try to have a "moment" with me. Instead, he tossed off what I'm sure he thought was a breezy "call me." I lost even more respect for him.

I felt stuck, because this guy, just two weeks prior seemed like a great potential friend; hanging out with someone I didn't know well was novel, and therefore exciting. What's more, he'd been generous enough to pay for my dinner the first time, so it would not only seem odd to refuse to spend time with him at least once more, but would also leave me with this uncomfortable debt over my head.

If I let that meal he bought stand as is, It's as good as saying we went on a date (I say this because of where I think his head is. I mentioned before that I suspected he made more of it than I did.) But I was chagrined to go out with him again, alone, which might arguably subject me to more discomfort in the future.

Then I got a brilliant idea.

I asked one of our mutual classmates, a woman, to join us. He knows her and they once attended a reading together (she invited the whole class, but he was the only one who responded in the affirmative), so I thought I could just play that "the more, the merrier" card and inform him "oh, by the way, C will be joining us. We'll just meet you there." Which is what I did.

Come to find out from C, she knows exactly where I'm coming from where he's concerned, and is more than happy to lend her services, because she too felt weird at the thought of being alone with him at the reading, and at the last moment "dragged a coworker along," much to his seeming chagrin. She said he seemed annoyed that another person was with them, though the initial invitation was by no means exclusive to him. Since then, she has deliberately and significantly distanced herself from him, she told me.

I felt extremely validated and was pleased to have my instincts corroborated.
He hasn't yet acnowledged my message about C and I meeting him at the restaurant as yet. I wonder if he'll slink off, or if he'll force me to get hyper blunt with him (which, I'm telling you, he does not want, because I won't spare him if it comes to that).

The underlying drama of all this is that it made me realize how burdensome unsolicited, unrequited interest is. I nearly sent g an e-mail apologizing for subjecting him to my feelings for so long. Suddenly his totally ignoring me at the St. Patrick's Day party in 2002 made a lot of sense. I felt so retrospectively embarrassed because he, at times, must have felt toward me what I felt toward this kid on Tuesday night.

In one of our team meetings we got the "it's time to go the extra mile" pep talk. The pep talk which basically means anyone not working later or coming in earlier or taking work home is dead weight, and yes, your bonus may be impacted. Speaking of bonuses, I already have at least thirty ideas in mind for how to purpose the money. This is a great time to remember that one shouldn't count one's chickens before they hatch. These adages exist for a reason. Someone somewhere learned these truths the hardway. I'll say it, because someone should. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Think about it.

With all that in mind, I don't want to speak prematurely, but I may have some really great news regarding my sister soon. When it's official, I'll share.

My dreams were disjointed. In one segment, a series of steaming coffee karafes were sticking, handle side out, of the mailbox slots in my apartment building. The handles were orange, indicating a decaf brew. Every one had one except for me, and I thought, "well, the mailman knows I'm not drinking coffee anymore..."

It was a very striking image...that series of coffee pots in mailboxes. I might want to develop that for a poem.

Also, rather unceremoniously, I had a skim vanilla latte on Sunday. I ordered decaf, but I don't believe that's what it was. I didn't wake up planning it, but when Sarah and I were at starbucks, I decided to have one to test the waters, in lieu of the green tea I usually order at cafes now. It has clearly been long enough because it just wasn't that big a deal to me (and I know lattes are more milk than anything else), and I wasn't immediately sucked back into the addiction vortex. I may be ready to have the real stuff from time to time now.

Your #1 Match: ISTJ

The Duty Fulfiller You are responsible, reliable, and hardworking - you get the job done. You prefer productive hobbies, like woodworking or knittings. Quiet and serious, you are well prepared for whatever life hands you. Conservative and down-to-earth, you hardly ever do anything crazy. You would make a great business executive, accountant, or lawyer.

Your #2 Match: ESTJ

The Guardian You're a natural leader and quick, logical decision maker. Goals are important in your life, and you take many steps to acheive them. You enjoy interacting with others, mostly through work related activities. Your high energy level means you are great at getting things done! You would make a great teacher, judge, or police detective.

Your #3 Match: ISFJ

The Nurturer You have a strong need to belong, and you very loyal. A good listener, you excell at helping others in practical ways. In your spare time, you enjoy engaging your senses through art, cooking, and music. You find it easy to be devoted to one person, who you do special things for. You would make a good interior designer, chef, or child psychologist.

What's Your Personality Type?

Clearly, Quiz Crazy...



>

American Cities That Best Fit You:

65% Chicago

65% New York City

60% Boston

60% Philadelphia

50% Los Angeles

Which American Cities Best Fit You?

Let's Hope...

Your Seduction Style: The Coquette

You are a pro at playing the age old game of hard to get. Your flirting style runs hot and cold, giving just enough to keep them chasing you. Independent and self-sufficient, you don't need any one person to make you compelte. And that independence is exactly what makes people pursue you.

What Is Your Seduction Style?

Riding Devika's Coattails

Your Linguistic Profile:

50% General American English

35% Yankee

15% Dixie

0% Midwestern

0% Upper Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Cleaning Phase I Completed

After eating the small amount of leftover Afghan food (from Wednesday's outing) supplemented by roasted brussel sprouts and carrots, I went out for about a two-mile walk (with free weights). It felt so primitive compared to my gym workouts. But hey, I shouldn't knock it. I lost the first twenty pounds just doing that two or three times a week.

Cleaning is wonderfully invigorating. I finished sweeping, mopping, and wiping the kitchen by about 9:00, and then finally got the gumption to move my cd shelf from the bedroom into the hallway, so that I could rearrange the bed and open up the room some more. My sister is bringing her keyboard (w/stand), so creating a place for it was crucial.

Tomorrow, when I return from Sarah's, I'll do more dusting and sweeping. I'll also clean the bathroom. But today, I go wholesale club shopping. With two people in the house buying some things in bulk suddenly sounds like a good idea.

At this point, I'm just waiting for Sarah to arrive. We'll begin with breakfast at the One World (I am in love with their 7-grain pancakes!), then we'll push off onto our shopping adventure.

I'm a Follower Too

"Emotionally, his voice quaking, Zee said to me, I dream of Chicago."
Operation Shylock, Philip Roth

1. Grab the nearest book.

2.Open the book to page 123

3.Find the fifth sentence.

4.Post the sentence in your weblog journal or website along with these instructions.

5.Don't search around for the "coolest" book you can find. Do what's actually closest to you.

Stairmaster!

I know I talk about the gym like every day, so it should be no surprise that I'm going to again today. Colour me myopic. After half hour on the elliptical, I did 20 minutes on the stairmaster. I hadn't been on that since my very first workout. 20 mins. is the equivalent of about 37 floors!

I finished both discs of Curb Your Enthusiasm (arguably my favourite show)and did two loads of laundry, too!

Girl Interrupted

"Now I am returning to myself these things that you and I suppressed." Joni Mitchell, Hejira

Two months ago I prayed that I would let myself fully experience the pain I was in, that I wouldn't try to circumvent or outrun it...this time. I saw that pain as the doorway out of what truly ails me...the door that one must walk through. There was no other way. If I had grieved all of my past rejections and disappointments, it is possible that this most recent incident of my personal history could have been avoided. But, there is a point at which such musing is futile and self-indulgent. It did happen. So I asked myself what I was going to do with this non-negotiable truth that was staring me in the face.

Brass tacks. My mind came back to me, it seemed, quite suddenly, as though I'd been mid-blink for 6 years and when my eyes fully re-opened I was dismayed to see the mess that had been made of things. Or, rather, I was satisfied, finally, that every angle had been tested and my hypothesis was not correct. My faith in impossibilities was finite. Determining the analogy that is most accurate is a purely academic concern. The point is, there I was holding the bag of implications and loose ends as a souvenir yet again. Who the hell was I, anyway, after all that? Who was going to get us (me, myself, and I)through to the other side of this experience?

Minor hiccups notwithstanding, I have true lingering glimpses into a restored, ordered existence that is not filtered through the lens of wanting the man I wanted, spiritually, emotionally, artistically...

The first weeks were excruciating. A dull weight on my chest, streaming every piece of information, hearing every song, watching each television show through the filter of that despondency. I would awaken in the morning, and it was my immediate point of awareness. I worried the facts of my despair like rosary beads.

Rilke counsels us to live the questions now, because if the answers we seek are not present it is because they cannot yet be fully apprehended. I may never understand the anomalies that existed in the construct of that relationship. I am sure I will never know what I imagined and what I didn't, but I am no longer staking my life, my sense of value on rightly readng aberrations, miscues, and asymmetrical longing.

I didn't lose myself in this situation. I lost myself more in the context of this situation, but it was simply the final episode in a long series of similar episodes.

It seems that I can discern the end of this sorrow, and that too, scares me. I don't know if I can keep it all going without the formal feeling that comes after great pain, and yet I don't want sadness to become my de facto concept of myself, either.

So, I'm figuring out my life as it would have been had I not taken these crazy, ill-conceived detours. I'm realizing I couldn't be where I am without having taken them. And I find that impossible to reconcile, too. It would have been better to have not done as I did for as long as I did, and yet everything that is true now was entirely predicated upon my having done so.

Well here I am. Resuming my existence as though it never happened, on the one hand, while acknowledging that my emerging construct of who I can be is completely informed by the fact that it did, on the other.

Groceries

Well hons, it's payday,and that can only mean one thing: Grocery shopping at Whole Foods. I'm the most excited about the frozen and fresh fruit and mango lemonade that I got to ehance the fat-free smoothies I like to make for breakfast and snacks.

CD Ripping Expedition

In anticipation of procuring one of these, I have started to copy discs to my computer with greater gusto. Last night I ripped about 13 albums, mostly from my jazz collection. Tonight/tomorrow, I will rip at least that many more.

I Feel a little ill at ease because I cannot find my "Blue Miles" cd; not "Kind of Blue," which, I am glad to say, is not MIA.

Laundry

Like the poor, it will always be with us. Enough said.

Salmon Salad and Strawberries

A very Springtime lunch, I thought, as I enjoyed it just a few moments ago. I am rewarding myself with a blogging session because I have made exceptionally quick work of a stack of editing that had been lingering on my desk. I'm thinking that I might try to write a poem today, too, you know... strike while the iron is hot.

After working out tonight, I have three DVDs to pick from, Season 2 of Curb Your Enthusiasm (discs 1 and 2) and Closer. I think I might do "Curb" tonight and tomorrow and save the latter for a post-workout viewing on Saturday morning.

I have 4 poems that need some level of revision, too. Maybe I can make quick work of that tonight as well.

The Shape of Things

I enjoyed class tonight in a way that I haven't in a while. My instructor's classes are always heady, always pregnant with intellectual stimulation, but tonight I didn't feel internally harried the entire time, I wasn't freezing for once, and there was the added bonus of having a visiting writer for the second week in a row. The change of pace has done wonders for my concentration.

It was a struggle to even do 20 minutes at the gym tonight. Skipping more than one day between visits makes it difficult to keep up the momentum. I felt disheartened by the fact that I did nearly 40 minutes on Sunday and burned almost twice the calories that I did tonight. At this rate, maybe it would be better if I did a solid 10 minutes every day than this up and down business. Any thoughts on this?

Save for the 1/3 of a nutrition bar that Serpico (I'll refer to the guy I mentioned who says "the nicest things about me" this way since he has a bit of that look going on)shared with me, I didn't eat any dinner. The schedule on class nights makes it hard to work in dinner until after 8:30. When I got in tonight it just seemed too late to bother with all that stuff.

In any case, after I took off my workout gear I noticed a new definition to my shape I haven't seen in years. An emerging small of back.

Art Blakely & The Jazz Messengers

I've only listened to the "Indestructible" cd by AB & The JM once in the year or so that I've had it, so I found it on the shelf and brought it in this morning, along with the classic "Birth of the Cool," which is so iconic you should know it's Miles Davis even if you don't like jazz.

I left class in an insanely good mood last night. My final poem of the semester went over exceptionally well, my classmate/new hangout buddy suggested another outing, though there is no firm plan in place because I told him I had to wait to try out the Helmand (Afghan cuisine) until I have more disposable income, and I learned from another classmate that one of the guys in my Wednesday class always says the nicest things about me... Now this guy...well, let's just say I've come to look forward to our banter every week. Hanging out with him would not be the worst thing that's ever happened to me!

The week's almost over, and save for Sunday night, I haven't worked out once. I think I'm going to the gym after class tonight whether I feel like it or not!

Alanis Morisette's "Under Rug Swept" was my public transportation commute soundtrack this morning. I hadn't listened to the album in toto for several months and remembered that it very much fits "where I am" these days, so I popped it into the discman. Speaking of the discman, I so have to get an ipod by mid-June. Working out with a portable cd player is a real hassle.

Now that I'm at the office I've popped in a Charlie Parker disc. Jazz is my preference when I'm working. Vocals, as much as I hate to admit it, really are distracting, because I want to stop and sing and really enjoy the nuances of each word. Jazz also helps my concentration, as long as its real jazz, not musak (or "smooth") jazz.

Skipped the gym last night to work on a paper for Contemporary American Writers class. I finished it (for all intents and purposes), but struggled to feel okay about not working out at all last night, save for a brief interlude of lifting my 3-pound free weights. Again, I will be so glad when this semester is over so that I can go to the gym more frequently.

Well, better get to work. I have a stack of stuff to edit, and it's not going to get done all by itself.

Being Open

As I've mentioned on this site in recent, previous entries, and as I've said to several friends, I am at a point in my life where I desire legitimate friendships with men, but am in the process of putting my negative romantic pathologies behind me, and so am not currently interested in a "relationship."

Last week a guy from one of my classes indicated that he'd like to hang out some time. I expressed an openness to that possibility, not totally sure where he was coming from (I had wondered before, in passing, if this guy was interested in me based purely on intuition), but figured I should be delighted to socialize with new people, guys especially, regardless.

He called yesterday. We made plans to go out today. I told him I was low on cash, so we'd be somewhat limited, or I suggested that we could wait until my cashflow is fluid again, but to quote him, he has "gobs of cash," and wanted to keep our plans. I told him that I'd get the tab the next time we hang out, and he said "whatever" in a way that conveyed he didn't care whether I ever picked up the tab or not.

I learned a lot about this kid (he's 23!). For example, he's an amateur ballroom dancer, a modern dancer, into ballet and the opera. He thought I was 25, God bless him. After that I was somewhat chagrined to reveal my actual age, not because I am age-conscious usually, but more because he guessed so low that it seemed a shame to have to correct him. And it amazed me that I could still pass for 25 in anyone's estimation.

It was fun to peruse the ecclectic collection of cds he had in the car, and to just learn the smattering of facts that make up his life. We had a lot in common, like the pattern of eating lunch at the insanely early (by most people's estimation) hour of 11 a.m., but at the end of it...I wasn't really attracted to him.

I didn't think I was before, but I didn't want to say no to hanging out, especially if that's all he thought of it. For a number of innocuous reasons, I think he might be interested in more than that. I won't go into it since it's all circumstantial, but the point is, I did something out of the ordinary. And I didn't poo-poo the concept on a technicality. That's progress.

Marginalized Art

This article in this week's edition of the City Paper features a handful of poets in Baltimore having a candid, roundtable discussion about the pitfalls of being a poet in this day and age, and the marginalized status of the form (though not all participants agreed that it's marginalized). I found myself invigorated and amen-ing several of the sentiments. Worth a read. I would love to have been a part of this conversation.

One set of comments turned up the usual sentiment that Baltimore is not an art town, though it can boast several artists in residence. This is my vision for Baltimore's renaissance. To put us on the map for what we already are, but don't have the courage to claim. The most underrated city on the east coast.

I would love my literary chums to read this article and comment with your own thoughts. Let's dialogue. Heck, let's have our own panel.

Tabouleh and Chicken Salad Leftovers

Last night's poetry group was very successful. It was my first time hosting and it made me feel good that the women really enjoyed the food I bought and that my apartment made a nice impression. Even though yesterday was definitely a work day, being at home allowed me to intersperse cleaning and prep for the festivities in with my job responsibilities.

I got very helpful feedback on the two poems of mine that we discussed, and now I am waiting for Sarah's weigh in before I proceed to rework the pieces. I am so excited to revise because I know the poems are going to be so much better. Obviously, now I am beginning to write with my thesis in mind, and I am sure these pieces will be included in that body of work.

I brought in a good helping of tabouleh and chicken salad for lunch today. I ate it all; I was hungrier than I thought. Speaking of food, there was a Stoney Field Smoothie promotion at Penn Station this morning, and when the bus driver stopped there, we were accosted by a rep who unloaded a bunch of 4-packs of the stuff on any willing recipients. The delay was enough that I missed my connection, but I did get four smoothies out of it, so I have breakfast/snacks for a good bit of next week. Life is always a trade-off.

Nothing much is on my plate... just going to the gym tonight and watching a movie before crashing, then waking up and going back to the gym tomorrow morning. I can feel a real difference in my legs, especially. I had a dream last night that was wearing a new pair of jeans that got progressively bigger on me as time passed.

Working From Home

Because I'm in residence today, I was able to go to gym first thing, and it was awesome. I wish I could do it this way everyday. And the temp outside is perfect at 6 a.m., so I even walked around for a bit to cool down before coming back to the apartment.

Last night in my Contemporary American Writers class we had a visiting author with us, and it was so exciting listening to her describe her writing process. It gave me pause to thing about my languishing would-be Harlequin manuscript. I didn't trash it, but I might rework it. Make it something real.

I'm so excited to host my poetry group tonight. We are having mini quiche, sweet potato, corn, and kale chowder, olive tapenade, hummus, crackers, chicken salad, pepper jack cheese and we're going to drink orange mango juice from my jewel-toned martini glasses. What a perfect day!

My Yearning For Coffee Is Unreal

I have started to dream about it. Last week when I shared with my instructor, in the course of a conversation he initiated about the stuff, that I had given it up, he said "that is wrong on so many levels." Last night I dreamt that I ran into him at a coffeeshop that was supposed to be the One World, but wasn't, and I was there to get a cup. When I told him this, he said "you're born again." This is absolutely unreal. Smelling the deep dark aroma of it wafting from the cups of people I pass, smelling it in grocery stores, or even on someone's breath almost makes me want to cry. This is not a physiological need. I am no longer addicted, but coffee haunts me.

I'm thinking of writing a series of poems in homage.

And I know. I know. I could drink it if I wanted to. I could learn to take it black (I only did it for a week, and I was never won over to the dark side), but I see that not having it has been very good for me. I'm a lot less irritable, I have less acid reflux, I feel less weighed down, oh but I miss it.

No disrespect to green tea, but it's like the really solid, secure guy that you date after the volatile, uber sexy renaissance man who couldn't be depended upon, but made your blood sing.

If you've ever been in love you know what I'm talking about.

Little Earthquake

Received a forward from him today, the source of whom was his gf. As I was scrolling down to get to the content, I saw the originator. I did not care to read further, so I deleted the entire thing.

I was not the only recipient, so I understand that it was in no way personal, for good or bad, but it was more than I could bear.

Sometimes when one sustains a significant physical injury there is a point at which one might feel fine, up to old challenges, ready to get back in the game, and so does. However, the moment there is any pressure (even just a little) put upon that wound, the agony is unbearable, and the 2nd tear can be much worse than the original.

I am not ready to be tested even on the finer points of this lesson. It was all I could do not to ask him to refrain from contacting me again. But then I would have to explain why, and I know I'm not ready to do that.

Well... I did get a good poem out of it.

Swingin' Jazz for Hipsters...

Is my raisin bran-eating soundtrack on this sunny, springtime morning. I can feel the lifting I did last night in my arms and back. I opted for the truncated gym workout and just did 20 minutes on the elliptical, then came home and worked with my 3-pound weights.

I finished watching 21 Grams, which was okay. I really enjoyed both Insomnia and Dog Day Afternoon, but I'm cycling off the Al Pacino flicks for the time being. Next to be sent to me is Woman, Thou Art Loosed, based on the book by the Reverend T.D. Jakes. I never read it, but my mother really enjoyed it. I am curious to see how a book of spiritual principles translates to film.

Finally, I switched the cds in my portable carrying case. It's like the changing of the guard! I took out the pop, rock, and rap and have put in a lot of jazz, folk, and soul.

My first trip to the gym went fairly well. I had a little anxiety about figuring out how to use some of the machines. They were all pretty intuitive. I began with the stairmaster, and after about two minutes of struggling (I probably picked too high a level for a beginner) I gave it up for the elliptical trainer, which I did for 10 minutes. I think this machine may be my favourite. I really worked up a sweat while on it, and could feel a lot of target areas being worked. I did the treadmill at a fast walking pace for 20 minutes, but it didn't seem as effective as the 10 minutes I spent on the elliptical machine. I did one set of about 10 reps lifting (arms) and maybe 2 sets of 6 reps of leg lifts (10 pounds in both cases). All told, I was there for about 40 minutes, and when I left I felt accomplished.

Yesterday Sarah and I went to Dick's Sporting Goods and I bought two 3 lb. weights, a flexibility ball, a stretching/Yoga mat, and 3 resistance bands (light, moderate, and heavy). After the gym tonight, I'll go home and investigate my new toys, and start actually using them tomorrow after class.

I've read that it's best to keep the body guessing as to what to expect, so I'm thinking that I'll alternate between the gym, aerobic walking on the track, and strengthening and toning with weights, bands, and the ball at home.

I debated buying a scale at Target, but I know it's still too soon for me to own one of those, because when I'm at Sarah's place, I usually weigh myself no fewer than 5 times in the course of 24 hours (or less). Even though I know to expect weight fluctuations from week to week (sometimes there is an apparent gain from a previous week due to water retention or the building of muscle), it still does a number on me, pyschologically speaking, to see no loss, or worse, a 2 to 3 pound gain. It seems to me that my metabolism is increasing, so it's also an adjustment to suddenly be hungrier than usual and to need to eat a bit more, while making sure my choices are still healthy and that I exercise portion control.

One of our stops yesterday was at the Baugher's open air Market (near Westminster), and we ate lunch at their full service restaurant; I picked up some grapefruit, navel oranges, and pumpkin butter. Now that I am eating better, it seems that I am always doing some form of grocery shopping.

You're Gonna Miss My Lovin' (late in the midnight hour, baby)....

Because my cable bill is delinquent, they have "interrupted" my service. The bill is en route to them as we speak, but no dice on resending the signal until they have my money in their hot little hands. So, what this translates to, roughly, is no Internet access over the weekend. And, I will definitely be watching all my Netflix DVDs since I will have no other options via tv.

So, to my faithful contingency who read my rather pedantic updates, even on the weekends,to you I say I'm sorry. (Who am I kidding here?) Well, people this is what passes for a sense of humour in my mind these days...

How about this? I'll tell you what I plan to do:

Tonight: Walk 2 miles; eat leftovers for dinner; do laundry; watch Dog Day Afternoon
Tomorrow morning/day: eat breakfast; go to the gym; watch Insomnia or 21 Grams depending on mood; write a poem for class
Sunday: Hang out with Sarah; buy some workout clothes and gear; various and sundry activities; read a story for class

There. Happy now?

Good weekend, everybody!

Letting Sleeping Dogs Lie...

I received an e-mail from a lapsed friend yesterday. She is in need of a favor. Despite our expired relationship, because I know that the fact that she asked must mean she is desperate, I prayerfully considered whether or not I should consent to help her. I asked Sarah's opinion, since she's remarkably clear-headed about these things, but in the end, I decided for myself that it is best to let sleeping dogs lie.

The fact is I do not want this person in my life again. Doing her this favor would be tantamount to agreeing to open that door back up. I have not regretted severing ties with her. I don't wish her ill; I am not actively angry with her. I just see that it is best for us both to not be in each other's lives.

It is always hard to know where is the line between cruelty and wisdom. And I wonder, too, am I just being unyielding on principle? Well, my tendency would be to do the favor, so maybe that is what I should be suspicious of...this need to step in and be the one who saves the day, even at great cost to myself. No one has much use for martyrs anymore, and I know that trying to be one usually makes me miserable. When I weighed it all, the only reasonable answer was no.

April Is National Poetry Month...

Around late February, early March my crush on my professor subsided. It is fair to say that since I shut down, emotionally, for all intents and purposes, that it makes sense, that the part of me that is capable of active romantic desire went on sabbatical as well.

I see that this crush, along with all my other infatuations, was simply a smokescreen. Another way to avoid dealing with myself in the void. I created all this noise around me by way of affectation, bogus relationships, the hubbub of food and coffee, and a blaring television.

Tonight I had an interaction with my instructor that in the old days would have thrilled me, would have given the fire air. Before class we chatted, told anecdotes, made each other laugh. And it was such a relief to just let that be what it was, in my own mind. For once my concept of what was happening matched the objective presentation.

My next challenge to myself is to refrain from creating any emotional distractors for myself over the course of my weight loss. I firmly believe that this very thing is what has been so destructive for me over the course of my teens, 20s, and the first years of my 30s. Antithetical to progress.

I am closed for business as far as bs is concerned. You've got to pass on the counterfeit if you want the Real McCoy.

Another step in the process...

Filled out application and paid fee for membership at the university fitness center directly across the street from my apartment. Things are about to get kicked into high gear.

Have been processing, emotionally, the implications of my outing last night. Not that the outing itself was emotional, but more, I guess, the associative properties of the affiliations that are represented in my friend group, and the way I feel impacted today, on the other side of it.

This is a pretty serious little dust cloud of feeling that's been kicked up. It's not bad, but it's there, and I need to sort through it.

It's funny. When I was a little girl I couldn't wait to have adult problems and adult concerns. I felt that I would handle them so much better than the grown ups I knew were dealing with their issues. Yeah. not so much.

Oversleeping is clarifying. Michael was due to pick me up at 6:40 this morning, and for some reason, I just happened to turn over at 6:13. My alarm should have sounded at 6:00, and maybe it did, but I didn't hear it. Needless to say, with limited time, there was no putzing about. I was able to get ready in about 15 minutes.

I was pretty restless last night after my plans wrapped up (sometimes I am just keyed up after social engagements). Greg-the-philosopher and I hung out for about 3 hours, most of that at the One World. I asked him at the outset if we could avoid certain topics, and he was fine with that, but let me know that he didn't mind talking through things with me if I wanted to do that. He seemed to feel that he could listen to me without compromising any of his friend's confidences (which means, gentle reader, in case you are not paying attention, that there are confidences, but that is not for me to ponder at this point).

We proceeded to have, in my estimation, a terrific evening. Because I have no agenda where he is concerned, our exchange was probably more authentic than any I've had with The Artiste, which is just sad... I always felt like we (the artiste and I) were both behind glass, never really reaching each other during many of our exchanges. Too many secrets, too many boundaries, too much of my agenda. In any case, Greg and I regaled each other with personal anecdotes, we talked about movies, certain directors, and I see that he's just a good guy to know.

I knew that he was funny and very intellectually stimulating before, but as I said previously, being around him was always a bit unnerving in the context of my feelings for gordon, because I saw him as some kind of threat, the harbinger of gloomy proclamations regarding g's feelings for other girls... In any case, I'm glad we finally managed to get together, and whether we ever do again, it was a very heartening evening. I felt confident in my ability to hold my own in the arena of that social exchange. It's the most enviable position to be in, that of desiring nothing from a person.

With Fingernails That Shine Like Justice...

My nail polish is peeling off in a most unattractive way. Lately, I've been taking the time to keep my nails in good shape, and I've discovered that I really like the way I feel when I feel good about my hands. Anyway, when I get home from work tonight, because I suddenly have dinner plans with Mr. Barnes and Noble (g's friend greg, unintentional bearer of bad news), it is imperative that I do something about them quickly. I would normally take the time to leisurely remove the old polish and apply a new coat during the primetime UPN line up, but I have to deal with this before I go out.

I mean, it's just dinner with someone who doesn't even yet qualify as a friend of mine, but my nails look bad... and besides, let's be honest, he will probably share some information about our time with his compadre, my former love... I don't want to have unattractive hands. I know this won't even matter to him or anybody else, but it really matters to me.

Besides, in other ways, I look the best I've looked in years. I've lost a total of 24 pounds, and it's starting to be apparent to other people. I totally met my goal of losing 5 pounds since my last weigh-in, and I'm feeling great. Again, my nails can't look sucky when this is the case!

I hope I can persuade my dinner companion to go to the One World; I really want their miso soup and spinach salad... details to follow....

Anna Karenina

This book has been my constant companion since two days after Christmas. I unceremoniously finished it (and it unceremoniously ended with Anna's foil at peace, though of course Anna did not achieve this for herself) last night, lying on my couch, while watching television. Now I ask myself the question I always ask when a long-standing relationship reaches an end. What will I do now?

I read other things during this time period. Sometimes I went for weeks without cracking it open...school, my own sadness, my schedule, whatever... might have prevented me, but when I returned to Tolstoy's Russian landscape, the characters were still toiling right where I left them...Anna becoming increasingly embittered, Levin still wrestling with matters of faith, poor Kitty Sherbatsky, pregant for much longer than she should have been, thanks to the gaps in my reading.

When I was awakened this morning by the cool breeze and lemon yellow sun streaming through my window, I thought of Anna Karenina, and then remembered there are no more pages to read.

Last night I dreamt that Victoria gave me a lovely batik tote bag; it was black with brown designs, and she gave me a set of paint brushes. We had plans to connect in Paris for my birthday, since we would both already be there on other business...

Lady Day

Today is Billie Holiday's birthday, and since she was raised, largely, in Baltimore, I thought I would give her contribution to jazz a nod on the Baltimore Chronicles. I'm listening, as I have many mornings this week, to the "Quintessential Billie Holiday, Vol. 8" to usher in the morning.

Michael just brought over some white darjeeling tea for me to try. It had a very even quality to it. Very pleasant.

Now I'm off to the pedantic world of comma splices, split infinitives, and who vs. whom.

Another productive day at the office...

The poem that began to hint at itself last week has come forward. I've also done a revision, all while eating a wasa cracker and eating a lemon yogurt. The soundtrack is the late great lady herself, Miss Billie Holiday.

Lovely Morning

Am listening to "The Best of Chet Baker Sings," while eating organic raisin bran and watching the sun emblazon the building across the way, the light quality reminding me of a Hopper painting.

I am not taking any classes this summer. I have decided, instead, to devote the months of May(the better part of May anyway), June, July, and August exclusively to fitness and writing. I am going to join a gym, buy some 3lbs. weights, a flex ball, a mat for stretching, and some tension bands. I will gradually increase my walking pace and distance until I get up to maybe 4 miles in 40 minutes. At this point, I am walking two miles in about that time.

I purchased a cookbook that features recipes that prevent breast cancer. I was thumbing through it last night, and saw a delightful one that features broccoli and soy beans. Last night I dreamt that Sarah and I were at the market buying soy milk, poring over the different kinds. This is based on a real event. On Sunday afternoon at the market in her neighborhood, I was debating buying soy milk, but was put off by the fat content in it. Right now I'm doing skim, and since I have no lactose intolerance issues, I wasn't sure what the actual benefit would be to me.

Can anyone shed any light on this?

Work Groceries

In addition to the things I picked up for my apartment, I also have quite a nice selection of food items for the office, including the oft seen, but previously untried [by me] Vitamin Water.
I also bought club soda and a naturally flavoured seltzer water. Essentially, I drink two beverages now--water and green tea, so I have to get creative with the water from time to time...punch it up with fizz or lemon, or whatever...

I had a weird dream last night. I was back in college talking to the guy I had a major crush on, but we were discussing my feelings for him from the vantage point I have now, more than 12 years later. I told him that I only let him in on my feelings then, because I thought it would help to get things out in the open. He said that this had actually been a bad idea, that it would have been better to keep it to myself. I shared with him that the fact that I was two years older that he was had also stressed me out, and he said that was because I knew there was no hope. It was so bald the way he looked at me and said that... "you knew... you knew it would not happen."

Sarah and I had a lovely afternoon yesterday; we went to a cafe in Mt. Washington and I had the most delicious smoked salmon sandwich on rye with cucumber salad and green tea.

Blue Bathrobe, fuzzy slippers, and a mixed berry smoothie for breakfast...

Yesterday I managed to do laundry, clean the bathroom, mop the kitchen floor, sweep, go for a two-mile walk, and watch both "Scarface" and "Any Given Sunday." This morning, I am sitting here, fresh from the shower, drinking a smoothie for breakfast, and getting ready to enjoy the day and evening with Sarah. We are going out to lunch, but we have to decide where.

Eating out is still tricky for me because while there are healthy options on most menus, the desire to eat something less conservative is strong... I am working on challenging myself to not be swayed by my old way of thinking about food. In truth, so much of that has already changed. Or, when I am enjoying something that is a bit more of luxury item, portion control must still win out.

On Friday after work, I met up with a friend at the James Joyce Pub where I had 4 buffalo wings, some fried calamari, and 3/4 of a Yeungling, and it was hard for me not to feel that I had done something really terrible after the fact. Granted, these were not great options, but it was happy hour at a pub, and I was splitting food with someone... I think I may also have to learn to negotiate the feeling in myself that I'm letting someone down if I'm not up for eating "fun" foods. That was and is totally my own bag, though. No one forced me to order a beer, or anything else for that matter. In any case, I'm continuing my regimen, and I'm trying to exercise personal integrity. This is my road to hoe, but I am grateful for the support of my friends who have said how proud they are. That is very crucial to my success.

Well, I should go put some clothes on. Daylight Savings Time made getting out of bed a real struggle this morning.

Al Pacino Weekend...

I kicked off said weekend last night by watching 'Serpico,' which was made in the same year that I was born, 1973. I absolutely loved it. I'm sure most people have seen the iconic movie poster for it. I certainly had, but after actually seeing the film, I am so in love with Al Pacino's look in it. I mean really. I set the image as the wallpaper on my desktop at home and at work. I've always thought he was attractive, especially as a younger man. I have to say that now, if time and space were not factors, I would date Al Pacino circa 1973, but in the present day (if that makes sense). So strange, because I am not usually into beards or mustaches, but he was just rocking that look so hard!

Tonight, I will watch either 'Scarface,' or 'Any Given Sunday.'

Otherwise, I rearranged my living room. I was just standing in the room last night and got inspired. For about a year it'd been the same way, and I didn't really think there was another configuration that would work. It just came to me in a flash, rather suddenly.