January 2nd, 2010
So it's 2010.
I thought I'd have several resolutions. I pretty much stuck to mine until I lost the list. Ha. Maybe it was on purpose and my conscience made me forget it.
Monday. I go back to work. I start off with a workshop to conduct for one hour. I've survived worse one hour sessions namely my National session back in DC.
OK, so speaking of work, I thought I'd go back and start working like I'm grateful. I should feel grateful especially in this economy but I don't. I watched The Devil Wears Prada. One thing I learned from the film it be appreciative that you have a job. But it IS a job. I'm not graceful, I'm not the best presenter, but I guess if my bosses think I'm a proficient employee then it should be ok with me too. Why strive for excellence like Andy Sachs only to hate myself and my colleagues as well? Andy Sachs taught me that nothing is worth stressing yourself out over if you give it your best and it's still not good enough.
Damn, I realized I put on my nightshirt backwards. What a doofus I am.
So I met this guy named Jeff. He's from Virginia and he seemed to be a decent guy. We got along swimmingly. A lot of things he wanted, I wanted. A lot of things I wanted, he wanted. The first night he told me he was black. I interiorly freaked out a bit because I've never had man that I was interested in who was black. However, to make a long story short, I got over it. I kept thinking about him and how he was just "perfect". He asked for my phone number, and as the doofus I am, I gave it to him and he gave me his but I told him I wasn't ready for phone calls yet (I did say I could be ready the next day - which was Dec. 31st). He was going to be with his sister for NYE but I haven't heard from him since then. I've thought and thought about him but it looks like his own fears may have gotten to him. He likewise has never been with someone other than a black woman--wait, that sounds wrong--he's never been out with someone other than a black woman, and perhaps that's why I haven't heard from him.
I'm trying to rationalize this but at the same time when I've heard other girls do the say, I want to yell, "It's because he's not that into you!" and for real's sake, I think that's what it is. It hurts because I was into him despite my initial interior objection. I think just with Jeff's introduction and good hearted nature--it taught me several things:
1. There are truly nice guys out there who aren't after your body (as if my body was worth going after).
2. There are men who want to love and be loved back.
3. Not every man is after a woman who's a Heidi Klum (and she's really nice considering she's a model)
3b. When I told him that people would whisper that he was someone that looked like the Michelin Man, he said, "a Michelin Man that I was totally in love with". He really didn't care if I was thin or fat, he would love "me" or whoever that object of desire was. It was almost Edward-ian of him. Now I'm crying because he was a nice man who would probably adore the woman he was meant to be with.
4. Most importantly: That a man who would be your heart's desire, a man who would do anything for you, love you unconditionally can be white, brown, black, yellow, red, blue, orange, or even purple. I used to think that I could only be with someone of a certain race or color. I was wrong. He changed me that way.
I do miss you Jeff; be happy. I know that your heart's desire is out there for you. I wish I had been the one.
So going back to work on Monday will probably be the best thing. I think one more week of wondering about Jeff and waiting to see if anything happens will put me in the category of LOSERVILLE. Lissa objects to me poo-poohing myself but it's so easy to do and in a way comforting. At least I'm honest with myself. I know the truth about me. Not that I fake it with other people but I think others are just being nice to me. I started a diatribe against me but I erased it. It'll look like I'm asking for sympathy or attention. Just call me Nikki Reed.
I have to start reading things and quotes from tough ladies. Maybe one day I'll end up like Anna Wintour-tough old nut that's a bit off her trolley. Yeah. That's it. Night!
I thought I'd have several resolutions. I pretty much stuck to mine until I lost the list. Ha. Maybe it was on purpose and my conscience made me forget it.
Monday. I go back to work. I start off with a workshop to conduct for one hour. I've survived worse one hour sessions namely my National session back in DC.
OK, so speaking of work, I thought I'd go back and start working like I'm grateful. I should feel grateful especially in this economy but I don't. I watched The Devil Wears Prada. One thing I learned from the film it be appreciative that you have a job. But it IS a job. I'm not graceful, I'm not the best presenter, but I guess if my bosses think I'm a proficient employee then it should be ok with me too. Why strive for excellence like Andy Sachs only to hate myself and my colleagues as well? Andy Sachs taught me that nothing is worth stressing yourself out over if you give it your best and it's still not good enough.
Damn, I realized I put on my nightshirt backwards. What a doofus I am.
So I met this guy named Jeff. He's from Virginia and he seemed to be a decent guy. We got along swimmingly. A lot of things he wanted, I wanted. A lot of things I wanted, he wanted. The first night he told me he was black. I interiorly freaked out a bit because I've never had man that I was interested in who was black. However, to make a long story short, I got over it. I kept thinking about him and how he was just "perfect". He asked for my phone number, and as the doofus I am, I gave it to him and he gave me his but I told him I wasn't ready for phone calls yet (I did say I could be ready the next day - which was Dec. 31st). He was going to be with his sister for NYE but I haven't heard from him since then. I've thought and thought about him but it looks like his own fears may have gotten to him. He likewise has never been with someone other than a black woman--wait, that sounds wrong--he's never been out with someone other than a black woman, and perhaps that's why I haven't heard from him.
I'm trying to rationalize this but at the same time when I've heard other girls do the say, I want to yell, "It's because he's not that into you!" and for real's sake, I think that's what it is. It hurts because I was into him despite my initial interior objection. I think just with Jeff's introduction and good hearted nature--it taught me several things:
1. There are truly nice guys out there who aren't after your body (as if my body was worth going after).
2. There are men who want to love and be loved back.
3. Not every man is after a woman who's a Heidi Klum (and she's really nice considering she's a model)
3b. When I told him that people would whisper that he was someone that looked like the Michelin Man, he said, "a Michelin Man that I was totally in love with". He really didn't care if I was thin or fat, he would love "me" or whoever that object of desire was. It was almost Edward-ian of him. Now I'm crying because he was a nice man who would probably adore the woman he was meant to be with.
4. Most importantly: That a man who would be your heart's desire, a man who would do anything for you, love you unconditionally can be white, brown, black, yellow, red, blue, orange, or even purple. I used to think that I could only be with someone of a certain race or color. I was wrong. He changed me that way.
I do miss you Jeff; be happy. I know that your heart's desire is out there for you. I wish I had been the one.
So going back to work on Monday will probably be the best thing. I think one more week of wondering about Jeff and waiting to see if anything happens will put me in the category of LOSERVILLE. Lissa objects to me poo-poohing myself but it's so easy to do and in a way comforting. At least I'm honest with myself. I know the truth about me. Not that I fake it with other people but I think others are just being nice to me. I started a diatribe against me but I erased it. It'll look like I'm asking for sympathy or attention. Just call me Nikki Reed.
I have to start reading things and quotes from tough ladies. Maybe one day I'll end up like Anna Wintour-tough old nut that's a bit off her trolley. Yeah. That's it. Night!