Sticks and Stars

So I decided to start dating, gained thirty pounds, and, as a result, decided to stop dating.

It’s really all for the best (I think) because I really (really) need to get some of my shit together before I try to dump it on someone else. I like to think that I am pretty happy in general and pretty happy with my life in particular, that I am pretty fulfilled, that I stand on my own pretty well, but when I stop to really look at things, I fear the truth is less rosy. I don’t spend enough time taking care of myself. I don’t spend enough time attending to my needs. Really, the message could hardly be clearer. I think about dating and I feel resentful that I have to waste my money on a babysitter and my precious free time on someone who might be a complete loser, yet it has to practically slap me in the face before I think, “Oh, right, duh, maybe that means I shouldn’t date and should instead waste my babysitter money and my precious free time doing some things I actually want to do but don’t usually let myself.

So that’s what I’ve been trying to do. I make myself say yes to all social invitations. When I hear about something that might be fun, even if it’s entirely impractical to do it, I put it on my calendar as if I very well might do it, and sometimes I even do. Instead of reading crappy novels and watching crappy tv, I try to think about whether there’s something more productive I might want to do, like making collages of the pretty images I’m always collecting from random places or making jewelry or baking, and I sometimes do those things instead.

I still don’t feel entirely content with my decision to not date, which is a nice way of saying that the idea of being alone forever sometimes haunts me, but there’s nothing saying I can’t change my mind and dive in again tomorrow (while today I research guitar lessons on craigslist instead).

I notice myself feeling happier already, or at least feeling less bitter.

[This one I really wrote today...]

Last week was bad news on the dating front. Or maybe it was bad news on every front but the dating front is the one that was newest and thus most affected. Or maybe it wasn’t particularly bad news, but just me feeling angsty and blue and a bunch of other doldrum-y things that made everything feel like bad news.

I probably shouldn’t even be writing yet because I’m still feeling plenty of malaise, but I will see if I can sum up what’s got me down. Let’s try a numbered sequence, shall we?

1. In the past year I’ve lost about 100 pounds.
2. This leaves me thinner than I’ve ever been in my life.
3. Because it happened so quickly and is such a huge change, I have no sense of what I actually look like anymore.
4. When I see photos of myself, I assume they must be wrong because I look so thin.
5. I’ve been freaking out about this dating thing. Big time.
6. Part of my freaking out is due to my fear that the photos I’ve posted are complete lies and when I actually meet people they will see that I am a big fat ugly dork.
7. Even worse, I will have to see the disappointment in their faces and deal with the awkwardness of coffee (or whatever), while enduring their disappointment.
8. As a result of my fear and anxiety, I am shoving everything not nailed down into my mouth.
9. As a result of shoving everything not nailed down into my mouth, I am bloated and gaining weight.
10. As a result of being bloated and gaining weight, I am all the more convinced of #6 and #7.
11. As a result of #10, see #8.

I should also add a set of side points:

9a. I haven’t gained that much weight but given that I have no idea how my body looks, I have no perspective on how much weight I’ve gained.
9b. When I talked to my dad this weekend, he asked whether I was still losing weight, to which I answered no, to which he responded, “I didn’t think so, you look like you’ve gained about 20 pounds.”
9c. I definitely haven’t gained 20 pounds.
9d. My dad is an asshole who likes to say little hurtful things to bring anyone down who dares to be happy about anything.
9e. Despite knowing this, I am now more convinced than ever of #6 and #7.

And the end result of all this is that I have a pile of dating-related messages stacked up in my inbox and I’m unhappily burying my head in the sand, pulling it out only in order to stuff another cookie in my mouth, and feeling all the worse as I let the days go by and these perfectly nice people wonder why I just dropped out of sight, eventually getting annoyed and rolling their eyes and moving on, at which point I lose any chance I might have had with them, whether I want the chance or not.

Would it be terrible if I tell them all that I am too ill with the flu to communicate at them moment? Can you call in sick to dating?

[Wrote this last week but I'm finally getting around to posting it...]

girltrueheart is completely right in her comment on my last post, that I essentially need to get over myself and give this whole thing a chance. I think that mostly I’m just overwhelmed. I’m a slow going, need-lots-of-time-to-process kind of gal, and that’s how I imagined this happening. I figured I’d post my profile, every so often I’d poke onto the site and see if anyone struck my fancy, maybe send a message or two, and every so often maybe someone would send me a message. I didn’t expect that I’d be so constantly inundated by people and I’m finding it hard to process.

Mostly, they don’t stand out as people who really pique my interest, but then again, you never know for sure until you meet someone and have a chance to talk to them and know them in real life. Mostly, I don’t reply to their messages, except in some cases where I do, but I always feel conflicted. If I had more time or if there weren’t so many of them, I’d at least be inclined to exchange a couple of messages with them to see if something particularly compelling arises, but I don’t feel like I can do that. So instead I just get overwhelmed and run away.

Last night I got shut down by someone I thought had a lot of potential and that brought me down enough that I just wanted to give up on this whole idea, but instead I thought about which people I felt most comfortable with based on communication thus far (regardless of level of my attraction to them) and sent them nice emails, which garnered nice responses, which made me happy.

It’s now time to start meeting some of these people but I’m going to try to not freak out about that too much for now. The hours immediately prior to meetings are a much more useful time to freak out anyway. I’m staying focused on the nice-but-maybe-not-my-type ones, which seems like a good, easy way to ease myself in. And who knows, maybe the not-my-type nice ones will turn out to be better over all, especially since my taste in men tends toward lying, emotionally stunted assholes.

I might be way too insecure for dating. Some of the the people who contact me are really attractive and they dare to tell me that *I’m* attractive. Rather than preen and blush or whatever it is that people without major self-esteem issues do in this situation, I instead go bake a batch of cookies and eat them right down while I worry that the photos attached to my profile make me look attractive and are therefor terribly, terribly misleading, so I must take them down at once.

In one tiny little corner of my brain I know I’m being stupid (or at least I’m determined to believe that I’m being stupid), but that one tiny little corner is so very powerless against the army of neuroses that makes up the rest of me.

I am really getting sick of cookies. Excuse me while I go have another one.

Okay, two.

I’ve started emailing somewhat earnestly with someone who seems pretty interesting (I may be more earnest than he is, but at least he consistently responds). If nothing else, he writes well and we have a huge amount of things in common. However, he also has a very uncommon first name, so I googled him and found his personal/professional website and discovered that he is way, way, WAY cooler than me in about a million ways and I am now so intimidated that I am afraid to write him anymore.

I am, however, more attractive than he is, so maybe he’ll be awed by my gorgeousness and won’t notice how plebeian and provincial my life is in comparison to his rather impressive lists of travels and accomplishments. He has done things as hobbies that I wouldn’t even aspire to at the peak of my career. He’s also six years older than I, however, so who knows, maybe the years between 33 and 39 are particularly productive ones.

I’ve gotten a fair number of responses to my profile overall (17 and counting in less than 48 hours!), but this guy is really the only one who compelled me to respond…although I have responded to a few others just because I don’t want to limit myself too much. I haven’t, however, responded to a bunch of people and I already feel bad about that because really, they seem like nice people and I’m a nice person too, and I just want to be nice. But no, I must keep to my hard-ass priorities and I also know from experience that it’s much nicer to receive no response at all than to have someone say, no matter how kindly, “Yeah, no thanks.”

After thinking about it for months and mostly deciding that I was too afraid was too neurotic hated people too much didn’t have time, last night I created an online dating profile for myself. I’m not sure what inspired me to take that step, yesterday in particular and last night at 10:30pm (already well past my bedtime) in super particular, but regardless, cupid hit me with an arrow or something and voila, I am officially up for grabs.

Already, less then a dozen hours later, I’ve gotten a handful of responses (and really, why not? I’m freakin’ irresistible) and while there’s only one, maybe two I’d be even remotely inclined to follow up on, really, it’s an honor just to be nominated. It certainly put a bounce in my step this morning to know that I could get laid right now! And really, I suppose that’s probably been generally true all along (depending, of course, on what efforts I might be willing to undertake to get someone into my bed (or in my car or in the bathroom at work or whatever)), but I like being presented with the idea that some people might even find my personality just a little bit interesting too.

As you might expect (especially if you know how entirely neurotic I am), this whole thing is making me anxious beyond belief. I keep reminding myself that I am under no obligation to do anything and that I certainly don’t have to respond to anyone who appears to be anything less than the embodiment of perfection as I define it (or anyone at all, regardless of perfection), but still. I really want to be choosy. I really don’t want to waste my limited time. It would help if I defined some clear guidelines for myself, something to fall back on when I start feeling lonely and decide to give another chance to that 25 year old with whom I see no common interests and who, in fact, looks kind of stupid and annoying. For now I’m just telling myself that there should be some common interests, their profile should be written in a way that pleases me at least a little (humor, a way with words, general wittiness, etc.), and they should either be attractive or potentially attractive (meaning that their photos aren’t terribly telling, not that they need to spend hours at a beauty salon).

But on the other side, I’m trying to take a deep breath and keep reading when someone says something like, “I’m looking for friends that I can hang out with,” which, of course, should be “I’m looking for friends WHO I can hang out with,” or even better, “I’m looking for friends WITH WHOM I can hang out.” Grammar is such a big one for me but I don’t think it should be a deal breaker even if my hard-ass heart tells me that it absolutely SHOULD be a deal breaker, what kind of a freakin’ moron doesn’t know the proper usage of whom?!?! Thank goodness I never use incorrect grammar. I’d look like such a hypocritical jerk if I did!

Ahem…

Anyway, I know the excitement of all this will wear off soon enough but I’ll surely have a thing or two to say about it while I’m waiting for that to happen. I’ll keep you all apprised.

I am nesting something fierce these days. I would be very happy if no one required anything of me that didn’t involve decorating, doing small repairs on my house, gardening, and cooking.

I mowed my lawn for the first time since I moved in and although it was absolutely exhausting (my lawn is infinitely larger when viewed through the lens of a push mower — and the endless blade cramping sticks don’t help matters either), it’s so satisfying to look at its weedy, patchy, uneven lush greenness. Plus, it’s also nice to no longer feel I’m the one dragging down property values in our neighborhood. Now it’s time to drag out the string trimmer and tackle all the edges, but I’m a little bit afraid of the string trimmer.

This morning I strained my neck something fierce while I was working out and even now it’s so painful that I can hardly stand it, but I also had an epiphany as to how to redo my bathroom so that it’s both pretty and functional without having to hire a plumber, so my day has pretty much been a wash. My plans for the evening are to read some more design blogs and either paint another test board with my latest living room paint samples, or curl up in bed with the novel I just started (All Souls by Christine Schutt). Let’s see what my achy neck is in the mood for.

My latest paint dilemma is whether, in the bedrooms, I should paint the ceilings and closet interiors white, or whether I should paint them a lighter version of the wall color. I read a while back that white ceilings are “out,” and that a lighter version of the wall color is the way to go with regard to ceiling coverage. While I don’t particularly care whether or not my paint decision are in line with current trends, I do like the idea of breaking away from the white ceiling standard.

Either way though, I cannot wait to paint the insides of my closets (which, if the segue wasn’t clear, will be painted to match the ceilings — don’t ask why, that’s just how it has to be). They are wood paneled (which I originally mistook for cedar, thus inspiring a great deal of painting-over-cedar-closets angst), they have no interior lighting, and are only accessed by narrow doors, the light from which a person’s body blocks pretty thoroughly when she attempts to access anything inside. Even though they are small (2′ x 5′) it’s impossible to find anything inside them because they are so damned dark. They are like my own personal mini pits of despair. But once they are painted a lighter color they will be so much improved.

And now, completely unrelated to paint, ceilings or closets, I’d like to recommend a cookie recipe to you. I am in the process of baking (and eating) these cookies at this very moment and they are really, really good. I wasn’t about to make a special trip to a special store for cocoa nibs, so I used dark chocolate chips and they are still fantastic. Without further ado, Orangette’s Chocolate Featherweight Cookies with Walnuts and Cocoa Nibs. Now excuse my while I go avail myself of another one.

Oh, and also, I watched Julie and Julia last night and I really didn’t like it, but it sure made me want to cook. And indeed, I cooked a big (and entirely unplanned) Easter dinner, chana masala for my lunches this week, and now I’m topping it off with the cookies. I must leave you now as you’ve held me back from my next cookie for too long already.

This paint color business has really been stressing me out but I think I finally have a handle on it. As mentioned (in great detail), I’m going to paint my living room more or less yellow. The problem with painting my living room any color at all is that every other room in my house (with the exception of the decrepit little laundry room) is visible from the living room, and given that I have a small house, I’ve been concerned that painting every room wildly different colors will make my house seem even smaller by visually chopping it up instead of letting it all kind of flow together.

But last night I made an official decision: Screw it. Right now my living room is mint green, my bedroom is a darker grimy hospital green (I think that might be the actual name on the paint swatch), my kitchen/hallway is grimy peach and my boys’ room is light peachy beige. None of those colors look good together (or good at all) and the house is still standing and it’s livable even. So maybe I should just choose some colors and get some paint on the walls so that I can finally put up shelves and artwork and whatnot and officially finish moving in.

Here’s what I’ve come up with so far. Either I paint my living room yellow and every other room blue (maybe not the same shade, but all from the same swatch so that they don’t look weird), or I paint my living room yellow and my boys’ room yellow (the boys’ room a brighter version of the living room), and I paint my bedroom and my kitchen blue (again, maybe not the same shade, but from the same swatch).

I had already settled on blue for my room because blue is my very favorite color, and because I have a lot of furniture and accessories that are white, and because my duvet is white with blue flowers. I like the thought of a cool, calm room of blue and white with green plants (and a super soft sage green throw I recently purchased because I am totally weak against soft throws — I probably own six or seven of them).

I had also settled on blue for my kitchen as of last night, when I was reading Apartment Therapy and came across a photo of a kitchen with white cabinets and pale robin’s egg blue walls. It was so pretty and bright that I immediately knew it would be perfect (whether I stick with robin’s egg or go with another light blue). I also plan to paint over my greenish-blackish linoleum with a black and white checkerboard pattern, and I think that the whole combination will be a good one…especially once I install butcher block counter tops…but that one might be a while.

My boys’ room is where the question rested. I’ve long planned to paint the bottom half/two thirds of their bedroom walls with a bright color (I usually imagine a very saturated yellow), with the rest of the walls and ceiling white. I planned to line the spot where the paint colors met with picture rails (or at least trim) that would allow us to prop artwork around the room. The rest of their furniture is white and I figured that artwork and toys (and the bright red or green area rug I want for their cold, cold floor) would be enough to make it feel like a bright, cheerful room.

But now I wonder whether I should go with a bright blue instead (the most saturated version of whatever I choose for my kitchen and bedroom), and let my living room stand out as the warm, yellow center of our home while the cool blue rooms recede away. Or should I stick with yellow, which means that if you imagine my house as a square divided into four square rooms (which, essentially, it is), the rooms diagonal from each other would match in color (even if not in shade). Again, it seems important to mention that you can see all the other rooms from the living room, and you can see most of the rooms from every other room.

When I asked my boys their opinion about the color of their room, they both chose the blue swatch I showed them over the yellow (although they preferred the murky greenish seawater swatch over everything, and I’m pretty sure that’s not happening). As I write this all out, I too find myself leaning toward a house with cool blue rooms and a warm yellow center. I like the way it feels…and I can tell from the pile of yellow and blue paint swatches scattered over the desk in front of me that seeing a blue room from a yellow room and vice versa will look nice too.

So I want to paint my living room yellow. But not really yellow because yellow, even in the tiniest amount, is just so…yellow. But I came to yellow by way of no other options, so yellow it is.

My living room is currently mint green. The wood in my living room is all beech or light brown (including my beechy fir floors), I have a purple couch, a burgundy slipper chair, a very bright, stripey rug, and lots of orange and red and yellow and plummy purple accents. It looks nice even if the description makes it sound overwhelmingly gaudy, but it’s all very warm. And that’s fine with me because I feel like my primary living space should be warm and energetic, so as to more effectively inspire my lazy ass to get off the couch.

And as a result, I can’t very well paint my warm and energetic living room a cool color. Like the mint green of present, it would just look clashy and bad. But at the same time, my living room is small and really can’t handle much in the way of a warm color on the walls. Too warm of a color (like, say, a gorgeous tangeriney orange) would, I fear, force my cozy living room to cross the line into claustrophobic.

And so the question I’ve been asking myself is what is a color that is warm without being too warm, and still bright and energizing, and the answer, the only answer I could come up with, is yellow. And that’s fine. I like yellow. Yellow is bright a cheerful and fun, and the perfect accompaniment to the often greyness of our days around here.

Usually, I’m not one to bother with all those tedious steps of picking out paint chips and holding them up to the wall, and then buying sample jars and painting big squares onto the wall, and then spending weeks scrutinizing the color in every possible light combination. I’m much more inclined to just buy a gallon, slap it on, and then try to figure out how to make myself like it after I realize that it’s much too dark/bright/warm/cool/overwhelming for the space. In my lifetime of painting, I don’t think I’ve ever felt good about paint colors I’ve chosen, and I’ve often felt very, very bad.

So this time I’m doing it right. I got the paint chips and walked them around my living room for days until I narrowed my choices down to two. Then I bought two sample canisters of paint and painted two pieces of foam core board with each color so that I could move them around the room and admire them in all possible light combinations. I finally settled on the color I liked best, but then I waited a few weeks longer because I was lazy I really wanted to be sure, during which time I came to hate my choice (and the runner up, for that matter).

So today, I started again. My initial top choice was Laura Ashley Deep Cowslip 2.

The runner up was Valspar Pineapple Delight.

But as it turns out, Deep Cowslip 2 is way too peachy in real life, and Pineapple Delight is way too lemony (really, trust me, or just calibrate your monitor).

So I went back to Lowes and the kindly and attractive paint guy was super helpful when I told him I needed the perfect mix of not-too-peach and not-too-lemon and that I was pretty disgusted by how beige this whole yellow adventure was becoming, so if he could please save me from beige as well, I’d appreciate it.

I picked out Homestead Resort Tea Room Cream.

Which, it turns out, is a lot like Cowslip, now that I have it home.

But after much peering intently at paint chips, attractive paint guy finally offered me Valspar Cuddle.

Although we both scoffed at naming a paint color “cuddle,” I must admit, I secretly like the name. And I like the color too. It appears to be a really good blend of my two previous choices, but the foam core board will tell the true tale…should I ever get around to painting it.

I know, I know, you are thinking, “Wow, those are some ugly shades of beige,” but no, they really aren’t! According to the foam core boards, they are very yellow! And certainly the yellowness will shine through when it’s spread all over my living room. Sure they aren’t exactly my dreamy bright yellow, but yellow is just so damned…yellow. I like bright colors as much as the next bright color lover, but yellow gets carried away with itself pretty quickly.

I will say though, as a completely and entirely unrelated aside, I think I’m in love with the paint guy. He was so thoughtful as he examined my paint samples and he understood exactly what I was saying about them, and he really took his time to find good options for me. Plus, he took my seven year old’s questions very seriously. There was just something so dorky and thoughtful and shyly earnest about him and he had these graceful shy hands that I always fall for (I know, hands, weird, whatever). He was very much my dreamboat type. Either that, or I’m due to start my period.

Okay, nevermind. Unusual name + google = he’s an artist and clever but too young for me. Sigh. Why do they always have to be so young?