I Fall in Love with Fantasies

All the time.

It's my addiction.

Last night, I saw a powerful performance of The Road to Mecca at the Studio Theatre (I highly recommend it). One of the themes the play raised for me was the idea of seeing people for who they really are. Discovering your true self and the true self of others.

It hit me: I fall in love with fantasies! Over and over! In many areas of my life:

1. Men. Obviously. I often become attached to who I think they could be. I even imagine what they are like when they are in love and fully present in a committed relationship, and I fall in love with that feeling.

2. Friendships with women. Because I'm a big fan of deep connection and unconditional love, I sometimes impose that same outlook on my friends. I create a fantasy around the power and the meaning of the friendship. Just because I feel we have a lifelong bond, does not mean they view it the same way.

3. The history of my life. I find myself applying dramatic and romantic meaning to experiences in my life. Rewriting history when it may have just been a bad or ordinary experience.

4. My blog life. It's easy to forget that the people I know through the blogosphere I do not completely know. I have had the experience of creating a person in my mind based on the image and personality they express through blogging. It was sad and disappointing to learn that the person was nothing like that in actuality.

Is this addiction to fantasy wrong or unhealthy?

I'm not sure.

It definitely sets me up for disappointment. And hurt. But I'm not sure I am willing to give it up completely. My fantasies are part of who I am, also.

Aaaaarrrrrrrrrggggghhhhh!!!!

It was like watching your favorite, champion football team get beat by a lesser team. Sitting in the stands yelling at the field "C'mon Offense, get it together!!!"..."Get Angry!"..."Toughen Up!"...

It is soooo critical that we have a Democratic President in office. We have to make some major changes and shift in a new direction.

And watching McCain get all rabid dog last night just ticked me off. His arguments didn't even make sense. He kept throwing out false accusations...in fact throwing several at once, every chance he got (kind of a spaghetti-against-the-wall strategy). His reaction shots were priceless...he looked scary and almost reptilian as he struggled to keep his emotions under control.

Now, to me, it did not read as strength. His style and the whole "Joe the Plumber" stuff came off as desperate, calculated yet not smooth, erratic. But I keep hearing the commentary about how "tough" he was, and how much that debate helped him. Ugh. Go figure.

(Side note about Joe the plumber...I was really trying to figure out what point McCain was making here...Did I understand correctly- the reason Joe may have his taxes increased is because he's making more than a quarter million a year? And that was supposed to be representing the middle america folk? Please explain this to me...) (Update: I found a great explanation here.)

While I clearly feel that Obama showed more class, more control, more focus on the issues (he was clearly frustrated about the amount of time spent on the negative campaign discussion...which was dragged out by McCain and the moderator), I do wish he had been a little less civil a few times. McCain succeeded in keeping him up against the ropes on more than one occasion.

How did McCain manage to get the first and the last word on almost every question?

And was anyone else APPALLED when Mc did his little "air quotes" thing when he said the term "health of the mother" was used as an excuse?????

His performance was aimed at the "fringe" (Mc's term) folks that we've been seeing on youtube at his and Sarah's rallies. I just hope it really is "fringe" and not a silent (secretly shamed) majority.

Perfection

The other day I was going about my business, completing one errand after another. Feeling sort of blah. Low energy.

Suddenly, I noticed the day. The sky. The tree. The breeze. The birds. The sun.

It was a simply glorious day.

I stopped doing what I was doing and sat on a park bench outside the library.

And watched...

And listened...

Two little two-year old girls who just met for the first time play and laugh and run circles around each other.

A new mother with an infant who would not stop crying. Yet his face was so precious one couldn't help but smile.

Several dogs with their owners walking through the courtyard, looking happy and carefree.

An attractive man with salt-and-pepper hair stretching and preparing for his run.

I sat there for over an hour. And I felt wonderful...

Quid Pro Quo...

Karma... What goes around comes around... You reap what you sow... Tit for tat...Do unto others as you would have them do unto you...

I've realized lately that this is how I live my life. I guess because it's a concept I can wrap my head around. It puts me in the driver's seat, gives me control.

So every joy I've had in my life, every accomplishment I've had, I feel that I've deserved. I've earned.

Which is great, fine. Except when you look at the opposite. Every trauma I've had, every hurt, every sorrow...has also been "earned"? The biggest, current sorrow in my life is that I have not yet found my partner, and therefore do not have a family of my own. As I continue to deal with this unfulfilled, missing part of my life, I've also applied this philosophy:

If I do _____, then I'll get ______.

So yeah, I've heard every cliche when it comes to women like myself looking for their life partner. And I've always thought most of it was bullshit. But I realized, I've done a bit of it to myself too.

If I ________, then I'll find my life partner.

I've been spending my life filling in that first blank:

If I...

...learn to love myself

...let go and accept my life as it is

...stop looking

...actively look

...work on my communication issues
...learn to be a better friend to my friends and family

...give back to the world

...try to be the best person I can be

The first blank has been successfully filled in time and time again.

I think it may be a flawed equation. I may have to just go back to the drawing board.

Sex and Guilt: Maybe You Can't Take the Catholic Out of the Girl...

I'm a grown-ass woman.

I have needs.

In fact, I get stressed, I have trouble sleeping, and feel tense if those needs don't get met.

So I should be able to have sex with whomever I want, whenever I want. And I should be able to date whomever I want. And choose not to have sex with them, right?

Right!

(groan!)

Years of programming are difficult to undo. I'll take a moment to share:

Case Study #1: I have a male friend that I see socially once in a awhile. We used to date years ago, it didn't work out. So we get together once in awhile for a drink or dinner, no big deal. Until one night several months ago when a drunken night out became more than just flirtatious. No sex, just some playing. Sooo...I slowed our friendship down a bit and didn't see him much for a few months.

Then last week, he asks me out to dinner. At a pretty pricey restaurant. And he offers to pick me up. I think to myself, This is not our usual pattern, this feels like a date! I strongly suspected that he was looking for sex. In fact, I know him well enough to know that was indeed his intent. But I decided to go anyway, figuring who knows? maybe I'll want sex too...

We had a nice time, he paid for dinner (breaking our split-check pattern), and we went to a movie. When I awkwardly ended the evening by not inviting him inside, I felt awful! Ick! Somehow, I felt that I did something wrong. I tried to split the check, I tried to tell him I'd meet him at the restaurant. I ignored the instinct that told me he wanted sex, then felt guilty that I did not feel like having sex with him. Somehow there was a deep feeling that "I owed him". Double Ick.

Case Study #2: A few days ago, I received a booty text from my FWB. Again, someone I once dated (last year) and it didn't work out. But our attraction is off the charts. He's hot. Every time we get together (only once a month or so) it's like a brand new thing. Sparks flying like crazy. And a weird sort of trust and intimacy. I purposely keep it a sex-only arrangement. Short get-togethers. No sleepovers. Don't see each other too frequently. It's just a couple hours a month of a really fun time. And such a stress relief! And I still experience brief moments of guilt. Am I letting myself be used? Am I compromising something? Am I doing something wrong?

I do consider myself a recovering Catholic. I guess it really is one day at a time.

Blog-friends and Anonymity

As a blogger, don't you sometimes feel like you know the people whose blogs you read? Or that you get a real sense, and therefore a connection to your commenters?

I know I do.

I realize that you can't really know someone based on their blog. But they certainly aren't a complete stranger to you. I guess they are kinda like an acquaintance.

Being the kind of person that I am, always looking for new, real connections, this blog world can sometimes be very confusing. Especially as an Anonymous Blogger. Sometimes I forget that my blog friends only know Aileen, not me.

Friday night I was with a date that took me to Fogo de Chao, where I ran into a fellow DC Blogs contributor Arjewtino with his girlfriend, Princess. We've never met, and I almost forgot that fact. I almost approached him with a big, familiar smile saying "Hi! How are you?!" when I realized he would have absolutely no friggin' idea who I am. So I had about a split second to decide how much I care about my anonymity. I decided that since it would probably seem just a bit weird and creepy to say hi anyway, I would hold on to my secret identity.

I have "outed" myself to bloggers in the past, and it hasn't always turned out too well. Sometimes the online connection feels much stronger than the reality. When I befriend someone in real life, it's possible there are things written in my blog that I wish they didn't know. And sometimes the person is so very different in real life. So there's a bit of a risk.

Having said all that, I'm still attending a blogger function this Saturday. While I am very much looking forward to it, I do feel a bit cautious!

My Baby's Father?

To be or not to be...a mom.

Now, that, is the question. And I'm sure it's a question that's going to be answered for me sooner rather than later.

The questions I've already answered:

Do I want to have a child?

Yes. I am very open to it. I would welcome any pregnancy, and I am very open to the possibility that I may fall in love and procreate with someone in the next couple years.

Do I want to go to a clinic to have a child on my own?

No. For me, I do not want to deliberately create a child that will not have a father.

Am I open to adoption?

Yes. In a few years, I would strongly consider this as a possibility. But I would prefer to have my own biological child. I like my DNA- I want to pass it on.

Well...I may have just been given that option.

Last night, a good friend offered to father my child.

It was a serious offer.

It's an option I have mildly considered in the past, but determined too difficult to pursue.

Now, as I am firmly in the midst of my final fertile years, I think I need to carefully consider this option. I am aware of all the pros and cons. Or at least most of the pros and cons.

Sometimes I think this decision is too big for me to tackle.