signs that you need a new job/lover/you

after a heinous work day i returned to the comfort of a large martini, a pack of oreos and the better part of a pack of chips. as i spiraled downwards in a haze of fury, self pity, and ultimately laziness (normal people with more energy and ambition would be blazing the job sites by now), i started googling spy guy for fun.

i typed in his (unusual) surname and hometown and then realized i inadvertently discovered his wife's name. slamming the laptop shut (after clicking on about 10 pages of 'next'), it occurred to me despite being a kick-ass girl, i'm lacking in the guts department.

otherwise, i would tear people to shreds, all would fear me and i would rule the work world. also i'd stop this ridiculous crush on spy guy, and give one last, whole hearted and enthusiastic push to my existing relationship before deciding if i'm in or out.

don't fall down the rabbit hole

michaela is about to move from manhattan to milan. naturally, she's just met someone.
someone who she has a great time with, especially as a naked friend. the sex, apparently, is amazing. they are also thinking about entering into a long distance relationship.

we had a post valentine's day debrief, about her hot night of loving and my non-romantic-non-valentines-inappropriate-low-key-yet-rather-nice-night.

michaela immediately pointed out to me that i need to make sure i don't fall in love with spy guy. i'm not sure if i should be worried because she knows me better than i know myself, or it's just something that she's thinking about because of her own experiences.

and here's where i think she's wrong. i could get attached, but i am not sure about love. i've never been in love. unless that wretched feeling of rejection and loss with mr-so-wrong was indeed a fallout from being in love. but attachment to an unavailable man, with baggage, whilst you have a boyfriend, is definitely not a healthy or good thing. the only thing it is good for is a novel, or a screenplay.

i've realised something, which i voiced for the first time ever out loud to my friend cassandra on wednesday night. after a few mistakes in my youth - partially from a need to just get it over with, and partially from a momentary dip in my standards (and snobbish outlook) and probably from a pessimistic outlook that i if i was in love with the first guy i slept with, when we broke up the hurt would be unbearable - there needs to be something about a man before i will let him see me naked. usually it's a combination of intelligence, chemistry, a fantastic sense of humour, an inspiring mind or an artistic eye, the men i desire all have something which i respect and admire as a person. usually they're kinda cute too. and the problem with cute, fun (or funny), smart, artistic or eloquent men are, despite the detachment you try and maintain, they are extremely attractive and thus you do feel some sort of attachment. it's kinda sticky like gum on your shoe - temporary, bad for the sole, with a trace that lingers on afterwards.

spy guy and i met up tonight. a friend had some spare tickets to an exhibition which clashed with something that came up, so i took them off her. we went to the gallery, walked around independently but shared our thoughts about the work whenever we bumped into each other. it's a city based mating dance that can only happen in london, new york or paris.

we then took over the cafe to read and discuss more of his writing. sometimes i think he just wants my opinion because i'm an editor. which should mean he respects my professional opinion. maybe it works both ways - that some men find strong women sexy. it was eleven when we left the cafe. i led us towards the subway when he mentioned a nightcap, so i took him to a nearby bar and somehow ended up paying for our drinks. (it is my round, but i took him to the exhibition - though he's meant to return the favor in a few week's time).

by the time i got home it was 1am, and he has to be up in four hours to catch a plane.
then again, james bond would have stayed up all night and still get the job done.

i never ask spy guy about those little details. we talk about work, and the significance of what he does (or its impact on society). we've talked about guns and government, but i don't want to know too much of what he does. just in case.

it was a platonic night. he was not flirty, but friendly and definitely more controlled than me though there were a few moments - mainly looks in reference to things we were discussing. or maybe the vodka made me imagine it. i was a bit flirty, but then i was a martini down with no dinner when we met. hell i think i also flirted with a 20 year old boy who glanced my way as we walked to the bus stop.

and even though i didn't end up naked with great sex, i still had a wonderful night.

roses are red, violets are blue.

valentine's day is one big commercial wash. though in some countries, conservative governments ban celebrations on account of its association with christianity (which is probably a smokescreen for pre-marital relations)

during a visit to a little cathedral on a roman holiday, a place immortalized by audrey and gregory at the mouth of truth, i discovered (one of the) saint(s) valentine. he was a priest who was martyred before jesus was born, and his skull now has a home in said church.

that inspired a bit of wikipediaring and googling, where i learnt that the history of the martyrdom is actually lost. subsequently, the traditional feast day was undeclared by the catholic church.

according to wikipedia, it wasn't american greetings or hallmark who did a coca-cola santa job on saint valentine. instead, blame the english poet chaucer, who is on the record as one of the earlier sources who popularized the romantic verse. apparently chaucer wrote some poem in honour of the nuptials of some 15-year-old monarchs who would rule england. blame also the arrival of cheaper post that enabled anonymous notes from repressed victorians to be sent. they are all responsible for what, in our modern age, is the day where the average american male spends almost two hundred bucks on declaring their affections to their significant other.

my contribution to the economy on valentines day involved a bunch of calls and text messages to friends back home and a bunch of flowers to my boyfriend. the boyfriend is from the school of thought where one should show affection for one's partner every day, not just valentine's day. which really is very practical and rather lovely in theory. he does get brownie points as the first person to message me 'happy valentine's day'.

so after a horrid, long day at work, i caved in and texted spy guy to tell him i was leaving work. he'd contacted me after landing in london over the weekend and we made tentative plans to meet up on tuesday, which just happened to be cheesy day, to discuss writing a bit more. the ball was in his court to call me after work.

in the end, he finished up near midnight and cabbed down to my apartment. it was wednesday by the time he arrived, so officially, i have never, either as a single girl, or in a relationship, spent valentine's day with anyone.

there was no writing nor discussion of writing, but there was a bit of exercise. brief compared to previous encounters, but satisfying all the same.

he sleeps on his back, and snores a little. it's kinda cute. he had an early briefing so i wasn't sure if he would stay over. but he fell asleep, and thus stayed over, though i'm sure my excellent bed and bedding were a huge factor in his deciding to do so.

we drank a bit of champagne, talked about my work, then dozed off with my head on his shoulder and his arm around my waist. now, i love sleeping like this. but, being a restless sleeper, i always end up shifting in the middle of the night. or my neck gets tired.

maybe it's a sign that i cannot play nice and merge with another human being.

can you fear what you don't even have?

this afternoon i went for tea at my very grown up friend jessie's place. jessie and her husband live in a very grown up multi-bedroom-multi-story house in west london, complete with basement. it gives me a certain sense of comfort to be in jessie's company. despite the fact that i'm a complete mess in comparison - though if i was president of my company or some other big shot ceo, i would not be a mess. what's the point of deciding to commit to your career instead of a family and then realise that your career is going nowhere?

anyway. jessie completely freaked me out by talk about the competitive pre-school market in london. i thought city schools were bad, but it's just as crazy here. three hour tests for three year olds just to get into the right preschool.

i'm used to chalking up a guy's academic pedigree as a plus point if you were serious about him. legacy placements seem ridiculous until you're checking out schools for your goddaughter. that's when you're relieved that her parents are smart, went to ivy league schools and she seems a happy (and not being biased of course, perfect, vivacious, smart) child with buckletloads of charm.

the thing is, i don't even know if i can have children, and by the time i get around to it, by the time i meet the right guy and decide i'm ready and he decides he wants me and all that, i'll probably have to do a brad and angelina before shiloh. but this whole competitive school thing scared me big time. is it more competitive now because there are so many more people on the planet? or has it always been this way and we never noticed because we were legacy kids?

how can you fear what you don't even have?

chocolate is not a substitute for sex

i don't know where this myth of chocolate replacing sex comes from.
i'm going through a phase where i have no appetite for chocolate.

i don't really have an appetite at the moment. but i am hungry. so i've been eating cookies and pringles and frankly that's only going to make me balloon up (as will the vodka). my body must be such a wreck at the moment, with the junk and the nicotine.

instead on focusing on making my relationship work, instead of taking michaela's advice about putting the spark back into what i currently have, i'm obsessing about the lack of interest from spy guy. we met up on friday, to look at some of his writing, and then had a drink after. as we headed to the bar he immediately set the scene with the i have to be up early tomorrow line. it was true, he had to, but man it's been a long time since someone said that to me. and i don't like it when i'm not the one saying it. we still had a good time, and i guess the tone of our relationship is changing, to that of friends. which is not a bad thing. who wants to date someone who works in national security anyway? it's a dangerous job, there's too much travel, and half of the time you have no idea what they are doing. and it's not like you can discuss your day in detail, though he did tell me about some adventures he's had.

we walked home, and at the crossroads to his place we said goodbye. he gave me a peck on the lips and i kissed him back, whereupon he pulled away. i'd like to think it's because he finds me so irresistible he can't even kiss me without wanting to carry me upstairs and tear my clothes off. but i get this feeling he's decided this thing between us is probably a bad idea and he's trying not to fall into anything. i feel like such an idiot. i'm mad at myself for feeling sad that he's not into me. not that this relationship can go anywhere. but a night of hot sex would have been quite desirable.

i hate feeling disappointed. it's this awful feeling of being let down, when you know you've set yourself up for the fall and you're the one who's letting yourself feel this way. he asked if i was around this weekend and i said yes. he asked on saturday night if i had plans on sunday afternoon, and i'd replied i had lunch but nothing after that. and like some stupid sixteen year old, i was hoping to hear from him the entire evening. of course he never called.