I have a hood on. There’s no Eminem song in the background; it’s just me and the Lineman. I’ve realized there’s a reality to my life that no one really sees. It’s the me that leaves the date and goes home alone in her own head to her own dog and her own comforts. I have a smell, and gestures, and one eye closes more than the other when I really like something. And, there are certain quirky comforts that I take a shying to. Mine include, beyond the aforementioned “notorious d.o.g.,” the sweats with the stars on the ass and the hoody sweatshirt that claims “phys ed.” Too many people make assumptions. My life is very lonesome, in it’s own way, and I suppose it will be until I’ve a husband and child. Now, granted, I can say that now, but I’ve no idea if that’s some truth. Bottom line, we all think something will “happen” which will be some catalyst for an earth-shattering change. We all think it. It’s what we’re raised to think. We’re fed a diet of “before” and “after” moments. Our parents spoon us “before I met your mother, I didn’t really know love or selflessness.” And we eat it and ask for seconds as if we’re dealing with mashed potatoes. Please, sir. Bottom line, I have so many silent moments in my life, that I worry I’m feeling on my own. Some bit of me knows someone else must be feeling them too. I think I’ll always have those moments.
My life is a series of "before" and "after" moments. Except, in the love department, I have that really slow, comb-over of a man telling me I’ve stood in line for the past 3 hours with the wrong form, and on the wrong line. My love life is fcuking DMV. I know I hold the wheel. I’ve got the car and the government O.K. but I keep circling, trying to make a turn, and I end up in the slow lane. Why can’t I meet a good driver? All I fcuking want is a man who can take charge, ignore my bullshit and the dumbass blog, and realize I’m more than words. I’m messy. I’ve got a scent and tears and a dog that craps on the floor. I’m not town & country hot. I don’t drink milk and snack on red apples. That has to be okay. Why is it so hard to find a man who can just deal? When I find him, God willing, you will all hear about it. His photo will be posted, beside the post, and you’ll all want to clap. In the meanwhile, it’s me and the notorious d.o.g. Which I hate, and I LOVE. He is my noodle pudding, sunset, walk on the beach, cliche of a crapass date and then some. God, I love that dog, especially when he’s silent and sleeping in my arms. I watch the rise and fall of him, feel his breath, and I love his puppy cornchip smell.
I live my life in a series of silent moments and observations. I say goodnight to a good date, who puts me off in a good cab, and any normal woman would think the date was splendid. But I’ll never really be normal. I linger in my silent moment, when the cab pulls away, thinking, it was a lovely date. And, I turn my head, even though I know I probably shouldn’t incase he’s looking, and I see him in the distance on his cell phone… growing SMALLER. He diminished the moment the moment he picked up the cellular. If our time wasn’t enough, if he’s looking for more than me, well, I know my limitations. I can’t compete with someone who’s looking for experience. Because, quite frankly, I’m experienced, and I’m tired of it. I don’t want to date; I want to make babies. Yes, it’s a process, but guess what? I’ve always, always, been a quick read. I’m ready. Or not. Here I come. And for the love of God, if I’m doing it all wrong, send in the deus ex machina. I need some guidance in the l.o.v.e. department, but from what I hear, they’re hiring. And how! Bring that shit. On.
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I drink milk and eat red apples
Life is complicated…and I strive to be no longer. I envy the sheep.
Tell me something I don't know. I can't remember everything about you, but it seems I've read this a thousand times before.
PS
Q. Which is it: judgement or judgment?
A. Judgment
Judgment is the preferred spelling; judgement is a variant spelling. Unless you have a good reason to go with the latter, choose judgment.
You can tell me to fuck off now…
I've kept a journal my whole life, but it wasn't until late last year that I started writing it for an audience. And the strangest thing happened. I started looking at all my life experiences – successes, failures, arguments with my husband, moments of bad parenting with my daughters, the way I make a cup of coffee – as blog-fodder. Suddenly everything I did and saw needed to be studied and dissected and turned into an interesting post on my website. I could make the pouring of a cup of coffee all about the perfectionist in me, and how that trait comes from some long-forgotten incident involving my mother… or something like that. All over a latte.
Sometimes I think your blog is fascinating because your life is so extraordinary. And other times your life is just the same as everyone else's, with the same silent moments and observations that the rest of us have had or are having – you just have a knack for making it sound tortured or difficult or wonderful.
There's a thought… if I could write as well as you, would my life become more interesting? Or would it just look better in print?
I agree with Plantation – you've covered this before. Maybe if you stopped trying to find blog-fodder in your personal life, you'd discover that it's really not that tragic after all. Or if you really want to write about your personal life, forget you've called yourself a Tragedy and try a little optimism.
"My love life is fucking DMV."
I getting this tattooed on my ass.
All this drama because the guy answered his cell after he put you in a cab?
Or might this just be a case of BWI?
There is no drams. I'm happy, like peaches and curvy French tullips happy. I know we all have quiet moments; I share mine. I'm excited about my weekend. Time with the girls, time with the words, time with the wine, and time at Barnes & Noble. Ooooh, buying all the chick flicks that were just released on DVD. It's so that kind of weekend. I need a room.
sometimes a post is written in a different mood, and then the mood shifts, making the post seem as though written by a stranger or very long ago..
I'm guessing that "fuck off" was for me.
Anyone who reads your blog knows not to make assumptions or think they 'know' you because of what you write here. This is the first time I've ever written anything even remotely critical and you come back with 'get a room.'
I apologise if my comments came across as a judgemental. It was not my intention to be.
Trish, that was not for you. AT ALL.
When you have been single as long as I have, then you can complain. I also don't know why the blog would be a bad thing for a guy. I guess I really don't understand…
I think Charlie Brown, the round-headed kid, said that "happiness is a warm puppy." He was talking about that obsequious Eddie Haskell of a beagle named Snoopy. Nevertheless, happiness IS a warm puppy (or two). Butt nuggets on the Karastan and all. At the moment my Linus is sitting on my foot… I love it when he does that.
I think that Steph, though I don't know her, is a lot like me. Many people get defensive and uncomfortable about the shit I say, too. She's not a bitter shrew. She's cute, she's funny, she might even be a Sagittarius. She simply has a mercurial/semi-cynical/pensive outlook. An outlook which, frankly, she comes by honestly.
Oh. Good. (Phew). Thanks for clearing that up. :-)
Hey! Life is a garden – dig it!
plantation, you can always choose not to read stephanie's posts. my gut says you cannot. you'll keep coming back for more because they are(and i know you agree) compelling, honest, thoughtful, delicious and addictive. it is far easier to critique than to put yourself out there and create. this medium allows for your feedback. use it wisely and you will add value to this discourse rather than taking up space.
the suitor
so funny…we all want what we can't have…the thought of a girls weekend in nyc or just leisurely looking thru barnes & noble is an absolute obsession but my three kids are in the bathtub fighting and i am relegated to "quiet"saturday evening with them watching movies and eating popcorn(babysitter cancelled). needless to say i wouldn't trade it for the world but it just makes me laugh when people talk about how badly they want kids…be ready babe..it aint that glamorous..but i write that with a huge smile on my face.
Reading you blog I'm reminded of what it was like when I was younger, single and didn't have any children. I, like you, believed that I had a tragic and complicated life and was certain that everything short of taking a dump was some sort of mind-blowingly deep experience.
Your parents were/are right, you really don't know love or selflessness and you won't until you're responsible for someone other than yourself (and no, your dog doesn't count) Your "earth-shattering" event will come for you just like it does for most people, slowly and quietly like a thief in the night. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to drag my decrepit ass back to work.
Oh and by the way suitor, take your own advise don't waste space, especially with your nauseating boot licking. If you came here for honesty, you should expect to hear everything.
>>All I fucking want is a man who can take charge, ignore my bullshit and the dumbass blog, and realize I'm more than words.<<
Why can't you meet a good driver? Yeah, there are never that many out there, but take a look at the tall order you've put in.
"All" you want is someone to:
1) Take charge;
2) ignore the bullshit you may or may not throw in his path;
3) ignore the dumbass blog; and
4) realize you're more than words.
In a word, yikes. (Let's not even go into the intimidation factor of "I don't want to date, I want to have a baby.")
If that's your current checklist, you've set yourself up for failure. How can anyone in your life "ignore" the blog, which you've just agreed to give the widest possible exposure through not one but two books? Why would anyone want to ignore your "bullshit" if they can find someone who produces less in the first place? And of course you're more than words, no matter how much you blog. But how easy is it for him to see the real you through those words?
Writers are in their heads a lot, a quality that, if you're a man, is often perceived as sexy. For women, not so much. This inequity used to piss me off until I decided that it wasn't sexy so much as self involved and it was an unattractive trait no matter who was doing it (including me). Blogs are pure self involvement, of course, and your readers are grateful; after all, we're a bunch of narcissists who see much of ourselves in you. But as the blogger (and a very well-known one with an enormous readership), you have an additional burden when it comes to finding a partner. And that burden should be yours to bear.
Finally, not to get all ruby slippers on you, but please consider your own advice:
1) Take charge;
2) ignore the bullshit you may or may not throw in your path;
3) ignore the dumbass blog; and
4) realize you're more than words.
wow ! lots of online psychologists. everyone should stop trying to FIX Stephanie, and just enjoy the read.
A blog is a mistake because the whole FUKING world know what you eat, when you sleep and who you fuck.
I accidently came to this site 30 minutes ago, and I know enough about you already to run away from you if I even meet you on a first date. Take care.
10. Text message his mum to tell her that he now knows the eye color of her future grandkids.
9. Text message his next date to cancel
8. Text message his favourite jeweler not to sell any earrings the next day until he's had a chance to pick one out for you.
7. WAPs a florist to make an order to deliver a bouquet tomorrow
6. Text message you
5. Send you an egreeting
4. Change your alias in his address book from SK to mysoul
3. Leave you a voice mail on your answering machine; maybe you deleted/skipped it by accident
2. Delete speed dials and phone numbers for any non-relative female within +/- 30 years of his age.
1. Call his voice mail because it's too late to call anyone else to share how your mere presence made the evening enchanting and sublime
The other day the security attendant took my boarding pass before I passed through the TSA personal search area and metal detectors and wrote a two inch high "S" in bold–he retraced it at least twice. The gentleman ahead of me had a light cute check mark, obviously indicative of pass through without being searched, forced to remove belt or be frisked by hand. I muttered but knew that a little inconvenience is worth peace of mind. To my surprise the gentleman ahead of me was asked to step aside and submit to a more thorough search while I was told I could proceed to the boarding gate. Who knew 'S' meant 'safe' rahter than 'search'?
humour the unreasonably harsh critics; they don't know better
Esperance, you sound psycho. Did you miss your meds? I'm hopeful that's your only problem.
Well, I wouldn't say I missed them, if you know what I mean.
Esperance, you sound like a stalker psycho. Leave me alone.
"My life is very lonesome, in it’s own way, and I suppose it will be until I’ve a husband and child. Now, granted, I can say that now, but I’ve no idea if that’s some truth. Bottom line, we all think something will “happen” which will be some catalyst for an earth-shattering change. We all think it. It’s what we’re raised to think."
I fully understand where you're coming from and COMPLETELY sympathize… but honey — if you're waiting for the bigbang event that will make you not lonely… It's not coming. This thought that just as soon as these events (albeit life changing and colossal) occur all will be right with the world will only serve to disappoint you more when they occur, and it's not.
Didn't you try the husband and a baby thing once before? Were you still lonely?
Oh My God. Isn't that exactly what I wrote? That we all wait around for this moment to happen, for things to be different once we have this or that? That's what I said… it DOES NOT happen like that. I don't want some big bang effect. I love my life right now. I'm in the moment. I don't even mind lonesome. So many people think I want that to change. I don't. Lonesome is part of the human condition, and I don't want to "fix" it. It's a moment.
I know some of you know all this. I know some of you realize sometimes I post when I'm upset or tired or drunk or giddy. They are all moments. They're thoughts that pass.
When I wrote anger fucking, I was so pms I didn't know what to do with myself. Everyone was worried. It's a moment. Journal entries, mine at least, are not always real time, but the thoughts and feelings expressed were all true at some point… that doesn't mean I didn't feel differently after a walk or a good night of rest. So please, stop trying to "fix me." I'm happy with who I am. I'm not looking for my life to change… because it's changing every day.
Yes, I want a husband and children. Not to fix anything… just because I want to share my life with my own family of my own choosing.
Hey! Keep doing what you're doing. I love your blog. I love your quiet moments, and angry moments and your happy moments. I don't want you to be "fixed," God knows it probably won't be as interesting. I can relate to being in your own head, please keep it coming and don't change a damn thing.
"To watch the rise and fall of him, feel his breath…..especially when he's silent and sleeping in my arms "
Now that's my kinda 'moment.'
stop jumping to conclusions and diagnosing commentators…The top 10 list could just as easily have been neutral (clean the phone, change the battery,….) or unfavorable (arrange a date with another, gossip…)…
–Clemence
Maybe he just needed to check his voicemail at work b/c of something going on there, or something else that had nothing to do with how much he liked you or not. It's really not fair to judge him based on that.
Yes, and once the man of the hour has sent you home to cuddle with the line-man…the phone rings…and, yes, you answer…it's me…and your life (all-of-a-sudden)…doesn't seem so bad. It could be worse…you could be me. And then you can half smile and let out a whine, "Leeee…aaaahhh"…as if to say more. Oh, you love me. I am always here:)
Truth is, we break out the cell phone, overtly within in observational range, only to appear to have other pressing social engagements.
It is our way of protecting ourselves from the shame of not being able to close the deal and make you fear losing out on an in-demand prospect.
The chick gets in the cab to savor the moment with her house pet. The guy breaks out his phone to lick his wounded ego.
"Why is it so hard to find a man who can just deal? When I find him, God willing, you will all hear about it. His photo will be posted, beside the post, and you'll all want to clap."
The moments I have with a cherished person are mine and mine alone. I don't want them to be published to a large audience. Much less do I want outsiders to comment on what I experience with that person. My experiences are private, not because I fear others to judge me, not because I am ashamed but because these are memories that I don't want anyone to touch or comment on. Call me selfish if you want.
So maybe – just maybe – that's why you have trouble finding the man you're searching for. It's certainly not because of your dog.
I've been calling my St. Bernard daughter Notorious D.O.G. for years! Like Fran Lebowitz said: "Original thought is like original sin. It happened long ago to people you've never met." I also thought my father invented the term "snarky." The internet has proved me wrong. Though perhaps my father got around more than I realized. . .
I heard all the promos for the show on MVY on the Vineyard… Did you stick around for Elvis Costello & Emmylou??
Thank you. And thank you so much.
I agree with the core of what esperance said. His implication was that your date's cell phone call could be any of a million things. He's calling someone to tell them how great the date went. Or perhaps he had already agreed earlier to meet the boys, told them he'd be late and would meet them later, and now he's catching up. Or it is just as likely someone calling him to find out about the date, or his boss calling with an emergency, or a wrong number, or his wife calling him. but the point is, you have no idea what the call is about, but you are already allowing it to negatively influence you.
And you are probably not going to find a guy who will both take charge AND ignore your BS. These are not usually concurrent traits. It's like advertising for an executive that's a take-charge kind of person, as well as a team player.
"When I find him, God willing, you will all hear about it. His photo will be posted, beside the post, and you'll all want to clap."
Is this the man?? If so…. congratulations!
**clapping**
I couldn't leave this one alone. You said you wanted a man that would ignore your 'bullshit'. is that fair? Do you want to find a man that shares your desires for the same type of qualities that you seek in a man? Would you be willing to ignore their 'bullshit'? IMHO, you want a man to ignore your 'bullshit', while you have your evening ruined by having your date check his phone messages that he was ignoring while he was on the date with you. Maybe it's just me, but this doesn't have a balanced feel to it.
I’m generally quite supportive of your site Your bravery. Honesty. Candor, etc. However, I’ve been extremely disappointed today. You’ve experienced some degree of success by trying to extract some deep meaning from the most minute, almost meaningless, details of your life. Which is fine. But as soon as you get (rightfully) taken to task for narcissism, ego, and over exposure you shrink from it by saying things like “You don’t know me” and “Don’t try and fix me.” This is all a little suspect. If you are so easily shaken by these rants KEEP A PERSONAL JOURNAL on your nightstand that nobody else can see. You are, in fact, quite desperate for public validation and fixing. Just own up to it. Isn’t that how you got a book deal? Isn’t that how, ultimately, you’ll define your career. Don’t chicken out now. You’ve come too far. Continued success to you.
Dela, not sure if you can tell, but the above post was written back in FEBRUARY, and my post today was just keeping to my promise…
this is interesting. no i didn't notice the date. but here's an interesing question: do you think my comments still apply to your current material? just a thought. don't necessarily have to answer.
thanks for the info..
Stephanie, by all means, keep doing what you're doing if you enjoy it and it brings you success. I think the rest of us are just jealous we aren't famous and making money for writing about stupid shit.
esperance was stalking me. those were only words. i saw action, and it was not a good time.
I'm fine on criticism. Sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes it's my issue. I communicated poorly, and therefore left too much for readers to get wrong. Had I painted the picture more clearly, and then there was criticism, at least I could reflect and learn from what was being said or suggested. I really do always welcome it. So thank you.
The danger for any blogger is to confuse entertainment with reality.
-Midwest http://www.kissnblog.com
Stephanie,
I think you're really cool, but I have to say that these are the best comments I've read on your blog. They're honest and real vs. a lot of sycophant drivel that I've found here in the past. What is interesting though, is that you're seemingly defensive. I'm curious as to why you thought Esperance was psycho…I thought the perspective was actually very wise and kind(unless there is some prior history I don't know about). You know the rules…you put it out for the world realizing it will be interpreted in as many different ways as they are readers. Additionally, your critics are truly your best friends…who really benefits from ass-kissing anyway? Why not choose to ignore both the good and the bad comments? This is fantastic training for when your book comes out and your profile REALLY rises. No one should be able to inflate or deflate you. And no one can truly understand you, either, so I hope that's not what you're looking for.
I just want to share a little about my recent night out. Not too long ago, I broke up with a boyfriend of three years and was completely devasted by it. My thoughtful and perfect friends bought me a vibrator called Little Gold that definitely replaced much of what I was missing. I’ve been enamored with it ever since as it’s sleek, completely waterproof and get this, it’s totally quiet. It’s quite a gem. If it fell out of my bag… no one would know it was it was… except that it was gold! Well, I’ve just started dating again and on one hot date, I decided to add the vibrator into the mix. Let me tell you, without going into too much detail, I’ve unearthed pleasures within me never known before. So just a note for our readers—a quality vibrator is definitely a girl’s best friend, with or without a partner! I found out from my friends that the vibrator is from Jimmyjane, so I’d highly recommend it.