It’s almost 2 am and I am alone in my apartment.  I can’t sleep.  I did a full day’s worth of activities, including a web steering meeting, a communications team meeting, a screening of the batman movie (amazing! disturbing!) with Serge and some general cleaning and organizing of the house space.  There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be able to sleep, and yet, there it is, sitting in the small of my back as I lay here on my stomach, typing, the weight that is cool and clammy and oppressive, daring me to move, daring me to make a sound, daring my thoughts to stray to a place where the colors and sounds are much more simple and  much more connected to memories.

You know, without him here, the house just feels wrong.  Even with an echo of a dinner party, even with company in my bed, there is still something missing- the smell of his wet soap in the shower or the dim glow of his computer screen from his bedroom.  It makes me wonder when it happened that a solitary world became a joint world.  I like him better than practically any other person I’ve ever lived with unless you count school roomates which personally, I would not.  He’s a very good companion. Safe, reliable, steadfast.

Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep- but it might also be the feeling of overwhelming dread that I cannot seem to shake- I cannot seem to find, in my head, the way to work everything out so that I can make it through the rest of this run of BARE, pack the house, move, live in a compromised space until our new place is renovated,  start a new semester, teach a class, plan a season of fudge…theres even more things- a few weddings, Lavan getting spayed, and officially changing all of my documents to MA ones, to  name some… it isn’t that any one of these items is overwhelming, or even all of them as a unit- it is that I am missing something that I cannot quite name.

It’s a feeling.  Like the glimmer of joy I got when Anise facebook messaged me from Spain, a jolt of electricity that comes when you know that someone you delight in is thinking of you- that notion that for the briefest of moments you are more than just one person, but a combination of feelings and emotions and slimier stuff like blood and marrow from two different people.  I don’t know how it is that he can still make me feel that way, and why Serge, for all his loveliness, doesn’t make me feel that way- which makes me think like it is pointless to go on dates with him, even though he’s a very nice man.  I don’t know what I want except to feel that glimmer of joy more often than I do now- I guess I never put the words together before, but I’m looking for my east coast, appropriate, all weather Anise.  I don’t know where he is, but if I could find him, I’d feel a lot better about the months ahead.

Do you keep dating a nice person you don’t ultimately think will be the right person?  I mean, generally I think the answer is no, but in some cases isn’t it healthy to just -be- dating, even if they don’t fit the pristine model?  I mean how many Anise’s are there out there?  At least my model boy’s merits are almost purely intellectual (though the hair was nice- and the tallness) and spiritual.  Sigh.  This isn’t helping me to get to sleep;  Maybe a shower will help- or a glass of green tea.

pointless rambling of an insomniac.

Ever Virgin.

Do you know what it’s like
To be in love with you,
To have my heart still love you
When my mind knows it’s not true?
Do you know what it’s like
To be in love with you,
Not to remember what my life was like
Before I first met you?
Do you know what it’s like when I lie in bed
And I think of you and the things you’ve said,
How they’re almost exactly all the things that I’ve said, too?
But there’s one word missing and it comes before ‘love?
And I think it doesn’t matter, what we have is enough,
But what we have isn’t “in” so I don’t know what to do?
Oh, do you know?

Do you know what it’s like
Not to be in love with you,
Not to have my heart obey
What my mind wants to be true?
Do you know what it’s like
Not to be in love with you,
But to like you, love you, cherish you,
idolize you and protect you?
Do you know what it’s like to look into your eyes
And see what I know you don’t see in mine
Though I pray it might be so the whole night through.
Do you know what it’s like
to have to let go of your hand
and to start another life, a life I don’t understand,
and live the rest of my life knowing how much I’ve hurt you?
Oh, do you know?

I know I’ll never find your lovin’ in anyone else,
Though I’ll try oh, and I’ll try?
And I know I’ll never find your smile in anyone else,
Though I’ll try oh, and I’ll try?
If someone were to come up to me
and say that they knew how
to love you better, I’d say,’Buddy,
step into the ring you’re going down.?
I’d fight a guy for you. I’d fight a girl for you.
I’d fight myself, you know I would,
If I thought it’d do any good.
Oh, do you know?

Ever Virgin.

A question for all you philosophers out there.

Here is a scenario.

You’re ex-boyfriend offers to pay your rent for the rest of your lease if you sleep with him one time.  It’s as simple as that.  You give up the goods, he gives over the cash, every month until you move out of your apartment.  So, let’s look at this in a little more depth.

You dated this man for four years and were emotionally though not officially, attached to him for another year and a half.  In that time, your morals and values were such that you did not think it was appropriate to have sexual intercourse with someone until you were lawfully married in the eyes of the church, thusly, the two of you, despite the length of your relationship, never got down.  So he still considers you a big V even if you have already thrown down with dozens, even hundreds of men, and even if you already told him that you may not be as innocent as he once knew you to be he still sees the scarlet V dazzling on your bosom.  His desire for conquest seems to have no basis in the actual reality of your sexual history.
Now, let’s consider the implications of your break up.  You assured the ex that at the time of your breakup you would never again, under any circumstances; take him back if he decided to make the choice to end the relationship.  Even with a full understanding of what would happen, he decides the time for the two of you is over.  So, having made his choice, you cut him out of your heart.  Throughout the years since there have been countless moments where he regrets this decision and on many occasions crawls back to you, begging to be taken back, but true to yourself and your ideals, you stand firm.  To have sex with him now would effectively destroy the delicate fence that you built between the two of you even when your own temptation was very strong.
That being said, you wonder what it would be like to bone the man that you already know so much about.  You can hardly remember what his mouth tastes like (or other things) and you wonder if the same things still get a standing ovation.  Part of you is curious to see what it would be like to be with him now that you are both adults and now that you both understand what means a lot, and what means nothing, and maybe you would do it just for fun anyway, money aside.
Yes, there’s the money.  Does receiving this monthly gift from him, at a point post-coital, make you a prostitute?  If a prostitute is defined as someone who has sex for monetary compensation, then maybe you are.  But are you having the sex for the money or is the money merely a gift brought on in generosity for the giving of a gift that he has been longing for, for many years.  Perhaps you do it because you want to do it, and the money isn’t even an object, but then the money ends up coming out of the experience anyway, does that then make you a whore?  A whore is someone who has sex not for money but because they like it, at least that is my understanding.  And even if the real definition implies many, varied, sexual partners for an extended period of time, by the sheer weirdness of this one sex act, you’d be thrown into that category.
So what to do?   Sex and money, no sex and no money, or maybe even sex but no money?  Please, offer me your suggestions.   Please keep in mind the HYPOTHETICAL nature of this post.

Ever Virgin

This is a pictorial representation of my 4th of July weekend. I had an absolutely phenomenal time, and even though I have hurt my back again, I look at this weekend as one of the best I’ve had in awhile.

On Friday, Jacob and I had a picnic in the back yard for a few people. Nothing big, but I made my famous

chicken wings

and Jacob made his famous

Jello flag cake.

We all sat around and had drinks, played the Wii, talked and had a very nice, very quiet, very stress-free time. When the evening fell, a few of us decided to head into Boston to see the

fire works.

It was very crowded but the display was beautiful, ever more beautiful than it is when you watch it on the television.

On Saturday Jacob and I had planned to go to the beach, but it was mild and overcast, not a good beach day at all, in fact, so we decided to alter our plans. We stayed in bed late and looked at a

DNA magazine together, before getting up and showering and tending to the dog. Then we got in the car and headed out for lunch at

the Texas Roadhouse. I had a little sirloin steak and my favorite ranch dressing on a salad. It was delicious. After lunch, we decided it would be a good idea to head over to our local neighborhood

Costco, to get a membership and do some shopping. We picked up a lot of good things for the house, and the both of us wanted to get a

memory foam pillow to replace our gross ones. We also headed over to petco to get Lavan a treat and then went out to Sports Authority to get a tennis racket for Jacob. We finished up our night at the coolest restaurant I have been to since I moved to Boston. I mean, anyone who knows me knows that I am a great fan of soup, but this is a totally fun and cool way to eat called Shabu Shabu. You dip things into broth to make a delicious soup as you eat and in the end you have this delicious, flavorful soup to eat with noodles. I loved it!! I want to go back again soon to eat more

shabu shabu!

Today, Jacob and I took Lavan to the park at Stonybrook, where he and Korland played a few rounds of

tennis. Lavan and I watched and also played fetch with a rogue tennis ball in a little fenced in part of the park. She loves to run off leash, and we finished up with a run through the sprinkler system they have set up for people to cool off on hot days. After a delicious late lunch of

hamburgers

stuffed mushrooms and

madeleines, I headed off to Wakefield for a first act stumble through of our summer musical,

bare.

All in all I had a wonderful, colorful, weekend and I would not change a thing, except perhaps throwing out my back again while lifting up the huge tub of kitty litter!!!

Ever Virgin.