Chris is another fella I picked up on OK Cupid. I forget who contacted who. Chris just moved to Oregon from Texas, and literally was messaging me the week he arrived in town. His brother had obtained a teaching position and had moved from Colorado to here and Chris was invited along. His undergraduate degree is in International Relations and he said he had been unable to find relevant work in Texas so he decided to to go on an adventure. While there are a decent amount of non-profits here, I'm not sure I agree with that logic. That said, he got an interview as an post-placement worker with Holt International (the international adoption agency, specializing mostly in Asian country [Korea/China] adoptions) almost right away. I would love to work for Holt, so I was pretty jealous!
Chris was a pretty good texter (good grammar, witty comebacks, etc.) but I had some hesitations. Everything on paper looked great, but his photos... It was kind of like David (college boyfriend), he could have gone "either way" in the looks department. Also disconcerting was the fact that he wasn't smiling with teeth in any photo...
Of course you know what I'm thinking. Any man (or person) who doesn't smile with teeth in pictures is hiding something. Either a.) a total lack of teeth, or b.) teeth so jacked up they don't want anyone to see them. Smiling without teeth (pursed lips) is also a huge red flag on a dating website. Particularly if they have 20 pictures and NONE of them show any hint of teeth.
Electing to be transparent, I just randomly texted him before our date was scheduled: "So, do you have teeth?!"
...."Is this an inquiry regarding my overall health, or just a random question?" He replied.
I laughingly explained and he teasingly assured me that yes, he did indeed have teeth.
Phew.
The week I went out with K, I scheduled this coffee date with Chris. We met at Vero, which is an adorable little espresso place inside an old Victorian. I don't think the coffee or food is particularly good or noteworthy, but the atmosphere is. It's where I went on my first date with Alex back in March/April (his suggestion) and I think it's a good place for such a thing. The outdoor patio is charming, has a nice view of the neighborhood, and the tables are far enough apart to have a private conversation.
When I drove past Vero, I immediately saw Chris out front and got nervous. While unemployed, he was good on paper and I didn't know much about him. I parked blocks away to give myself some time to walk and breathe and then strolled up next to him on the steps of the restaurant.
After saying "Hi," and getting in line, the next thing I said was... "Let me see your teeth!" (In an attempt to be charming/funny.)
He laughed, and awkwardly smiled, showing me his massive collection of mildly snaggled teeth.
Oops.
I really need to stop saying and doing things like this.
Being a tactless person though, I'm sure my friends expect nothing less from me.
From the back Chris was fairly attractive and I would say, perfectly in my "league." From the front however... it wasn't that he wasn't cute. He was. He just looked about 10 years old than he really is (according to his profile anyway) and had a massive front- comb over. (His hair was pulled straight and long in front to hide a receding hairline above his forehead.) It really, really "dated" him.
I realize that I am now 31 years old. That is old. (Old enough). But I don't think I'm ready to date someone who LOOKS 40. In fact, the older I get, the more okay I am with dating men younger than me. A friend who lives on the East Coast mentioned that she has an acquaintance who is 24 years old and seriously looking and would like to set him up with someone. While that seems way too young for me, now it gives me pause. What the hay? Right? If we're on the same page, if he's younger that just means we'll hopefully get more years together because men statistically die before women do. If I date a guy who is younger, we can die together! Perfect! I've spent 31 years alone. I don't want to spend the last 20 years of my life alone too! (Although I recognize I have no control over that and plenty of people do it and are perfectly happy. However, having already spent ALL of my adult years so far without a life partner, I really feel like I have paid my dues. No?)
Anyway, back to the Snaggle-Toothed-Comb-Over-Dude. From the moment he bared his teeth at me (brave soul), I knew this was not a match. However, keeping David (unattractive college boyfriend) in mind, I went through with our date. I did not want Snaggle-Toothed-Comb-Over-Dude (STCOD) to be aware of my instant rejection of him because it was just mean. Also, I should give him a chance. And... it gives me more of a chance to practice socializing with men. Thank you STCOD for giving me that opportunity.
I let the conversation go a full two hours. Mostly we talked about my dog. At least I know I can keep a conversation going for a full two hours about anything, let alone my dog. I eventually told him I had to get rolling so I could go give my cat his insulin shot (seriously), and we said goodbye.
I felt really bad over the whole thing. There was truly nothing wrong with him other than that I was not attracted to him. That made me feel very shallow. He was also pretty shy, which did not help with the chemistry thing at all. Once in awhile he gave out a hearty laugh and a genuine smile and I thought that was nice. But really... This was not a match.
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Saying "Thank You," and my 4th Anniversary of Discovery
August 3rd, 2014 was the 4th anniversary of the day I found out about Matt. It seems so bizarre that it has been that long. Honestly, it still feels like it's only been months, or maybe a year. Not four.
I think my lack of perception on time really just indicates how much this has consumed my life these last few years. I also haven't really had much else to fill my life during that time. What other life events have punctuated the last 4 years? I got a dog with massive behavioral problems, so that was new... but I lived in the same house, at the same address, doing the same job for 3 of those years. It's only this last year, starting school and traveling so much that there has really been anything note-worthy happening in my life. Even the dog I got just a couple of months after exposing Matt, so his addition to my life wasn't really a huge separate event.
On my anniversary this year, I was shooting a wedding in Virgina. It was a good day, and I hardly thought about Matt at all because I was so nervous working. This was my first Deaf wedding and I had absurdly high expectations of myself and felt very insecure about my inability to communicate in a language I felt I should be fluent in. (Deaf Studies was my college minor.) The anxiety over surviving the wedding protected me pretty sufficiently from any upset I would have experienced over the significance of the day.
But of course, the universe couldn't let me get away with just that. (Or maybe *I* couldn't let the occasion pass with just that.)
Yesterday, I suddenly felt overcome with the thought that I needed to write a thank you letter to the woman who revealed to me that Matt was married. She is on my mind on a fairly regular basis because of her job (which is a public sort of thing,) and because she lived in the area I live in now. She's also the only connection I had to the reality that was Matt's real life. She told me EVERYTHING. And she did that with disregard to the consequences she could face by doing so. I have no idea what her experience was like, but my presumption was that the scandal made it's way around the family gossip at some point and she kept quiet about her involvement, even though she basically got a play by play from me of what happened AS it happened, and then a re-cap afterwards. She and I discussed what I should do the day I went to tell S (wife), and mutually agreed that the only way for S to "hear" me was to tell her in person. This woman provided support via text and email as everything was happening and I have no doubt, prayed for me before, during and afterwards. She also told me that she had almost married the wrong man once and counseled me that the right person was out there for me, and that that person was not Matt. She also said she did not believe Matt was the right person for S either. I agree. She said we both deserved more and again, I agree.
Her words at such a significant moment in my life weighed heavily on me and have continued to.
So yesterday I wrote her a thank you note. I poured out my heart and shared with her the significance of her involvement and support at that time. It was something I felt I needed to do, and at this moment, I am glad I shared those thoughts with her.
That said, I don't know how wise of an idea it was. I haven't heard from this woman in 4 years. I have no idea what she went through on her end after everything blew up. I have no idea if Matt and S ever found out she was the one who ratted him out. I have no idea what consequences she may have endured. I also have no idea if she knows about the law suit, or what her thoughts or feelings would have been on that. I hope, above all else, receiving my note was not upsetting to her.
And hopefully nobody like, takes out a restraining order against me either. Considering that's probably what I would do, if she never responds I'll consider myself lucky.
I think my lack of perception on time really just indicates how much this has consumed my life these last few years. I also haven't really had much else to fill my life during that time. What other life events have punctuated the last 4 years? I got a dog with massive behavioral problems, so that was new... but I lived in the same house, at the same address, doing the same job for 3 of those years. It's only this last year, starting school and traveling so much that there has really been anything note-worthy happening in my life. Even the dog I got just a couple of months after exposing Matt, so his addition to my life wasn't really a huge separate event.
On my anniversary this year, I was shooting a wedding in Virgina. It was a good day, and I hardly thought about Matt at all because I was so nervous working. This was my first Deaf wedding and I had absurdly high expectations of myself and felt very insecure about my inability to communicate in a language I felt I should be fluent in. (Deaf Studies was my college minor.) The anxiety over surviving the wedding protected me pretty sufficiently from any upset I would have experienced over the significance of the day.
But of course, the universe couldn't let me get away with just that. (Or maybe *I* couldn't let the occasion pass with just that.)
Yesterday, I suddenly felt overcome with the thought that I needed to write a thank you letter to the woman who revealed to me that Matt was married. She is on my mind on a fairly regular basis because of her job (which is a public sort of thing,) and because she lived in the area I live in now. She's also the only connection I had to the reality that was Matt's real life. She told me EVERYTHING. And she did that with disregard to the consequences she could face by doing so. I have no idea what her experience was like, but my presumption was that the scandal made it's way around the family gossip at some point and she kept quiet about her involvement, even though she basically got a play by play from me of what happened AS it happened, and then a re-cap afterwards. She and I discussed what I should do the day I went to tell S (wife), and mutually agreed that the only way for S to "hear" me was to tell her in person. This woman provided support via text and email as everything was happening and I have no doubt, prayed for me before, during and afterwards. She also told me that she had almost married the wrong man once and counseled me that the right person was out there for me, and that that person was not Matt. She also said she did not believe Matt was the right person for S either. I agree. She said we both deserved more and again, I agree.
Her words at such a significant moment in my life weighed heavily on me and have continued to.
So yesterday I wrote her a thank you note. I poured out my heart and shared with her the significance of her involvement and support at that time. It was something I felt I needed to do, and at this moment, I am glad I shared those thoughts with her.
That said, I don't know how wise of an idea it was. I haven't heard from this woman in 4 years. I have no idea what she went through on her end after everything blew up. I have no idea if Matt and S ever found out she was the one who ratted him out. I have no idea what consequences she may have endured. I also have no idea if she knows about the law suit, or what her thoughts or feelings would have been on that. I hope, above all else, receiving my note was not upsetting to her.
And hopefully nobody like, takes out a restraining order against me either. Considering that's probably what I would do, if she never responds I'll consider myself lucky.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
First Date with K
So, there is this guy at school I noticed last fall. I thought he was pretty attractive, but his name was hard to say (seriously) so I felt shy about talking to him because I literally had no idea what his name was. He wasn't in our cohort so I only saw him at a mixer or two in the fall, and bumped into him a couple of times this spring. (And finally mastered his name in early Summer.)
The Program Assistant for our department is a really nice, friendly girl and also super aware of the fact I'm single. (Because I complain about it every 4th second.) "K" popped into the office one day when she and I were chatting, and after he left, she mentioned, "I think K is single."
Oh, really!
So, after a brief period where I attempted to pump her for information about him, I decided to just add him as a friend on Facebook. We had a couple of brief, funny conversations with each other in the law school, and that was it.
Until...
The guy really likes food. He takes pictures of food alot, and cooks alot, and seems decently talented in the kitchen. After he posted some photos of something he had made on Facebook, I commented and asked if he did delivery!
I went to bed a few minutes later and as I was laying in bed, I just KNEW he was going to message me. I laid there and I waited. I knew he was going to ask to cook for me.
I laid there for about 10 minutes trying to ignore the bizarre conviction when my phone beeped.
Private message.
From K.
"I don't deliver, but would you like to come over one day and I'll cook you dinner?"
Apparently I'm psychic.
So a week or so later I went over to his house after work and had Japanese Curry for the first time. He had it all ready when I got there and it was great. The conversation was good, but K made it very, VERY clear he was on the hunt for a relationship and a girlfriend. He made a number of comments about the type of person he was looking for, asked me about my dating life, and seemed a little territorial when I mentioned I had been to the house of a guy who sort of has a reputation for being a player. (Which made me laugh- and no, I didn't fool around with the player! We went to a tailgate at the guy's house. Total coincidence!) K straight up told me that he is 28, single, all of his friends are married with kids or coupled up and that it "was time."
Super interesting. I'd never heard a guy talk like that before, and I enjoyed the transparency. That said, I wasn't totally sure if we were a match. I definitely find him attractive, but I didn't really feel that "magic." I was totally open, and would go out with him again, I just didn't feel it. So I didn't feel super invested in the process, but tried to be open. I know from dating David (my college boyfriend) that sometimes that magic happens later, and you shouldn't close yourself off from someone whose company you enjoy because you never know!
We had dinner out on his back patio, which was very nice, and talked for a few hours. I was a little worried because my friend had texted me that there was a huge lumber mil fire right over by my house, and I was right on the edge of the evacuation zone. My animals were home alone, so that made me a little worried, but Sarah promised to watch the news updates and let me know if they evacuated my neighborhood. They didn't, and it turned out okay, but I was a little stressed when I first got there because of the fire- but I didn't want to cancel at the last minute, literally standing on his porch!
Since K made dinner, I brought dessert for us to share, which was also quite tasty. I had planned on bringing this monstrous 3 layer cake thing, but a few things went awry in making it and Sarah and I ended up feeding it to the dogs. (Although it was delicious, it just wasn't very pretty!)
Quite a few things went wrong with this cake. First of all, I couldn't find my round springform pan. So I used a novelty pan in the shape of a piece of wonderbread. Not a bright idea.The shape just didn't work.
Next, I bungled the raspberry mousse at least three times. We made three separate trips to the store. Then, I also deviated from the recipe (which I had made up to begin with.) Because K had mentioned he preferred lighter desserts and this was a dark chocolate, chocolate cake, it felt too heavy for what we were having for dinner. So I switched everything to white cake and white chocolate ganache, but it didn't turn out the same. I'd also never made white ganache before and it was not pretty. It also didn't coat like it was supposed to. (Probably because I thinned it out too much. )
Anyway, so it didn't look so bad at first, but by the end it looked like vomit.
No way I was taking this hot mess on a first date at some rando dude's house after he cooked me dinner from scratch. Forget it!
The dog's loved it. We gave them 20 seconds, and then took it away. The cake, while ugly, tasted amazing.
I ended up bringing homemeade whipped cream, raspberries and balckberries for dessert instead. My friend suggested I bring whipped cream and strawberries but that sounded so dirty I couldn't handle it and got more expensive fruit. HA!
After dinner and dessert and a few hours of talking, K walked me most of the way back to my car, gave me a real, body-smushing hug, and we said goodbye. Nothing else physical, but it felt like a good time, and I enjoyed his company for friendship or whatever.
The Program Assistant for our department is a really nice, friendly girl and also super aware of the fact I'm single. (Because I complain about it every 4th second.) "K" popped into the office one day when she and I were chatting, and after he left, she mentioned, "I think K is single."
Oh, really!
So, after a brief period where I attempted to pump her for information about him, I decided to just add him as a friend on Facebook. We had a couple of brief, funny conversations with each other in the law school, and that was it.
Until...
The guy really likes food. He takes pictures of food alot, and cooks alot, and seems decently talented in the kitchen. After he posted some photos of something he had made on Facebook, I commented and asked if he did delivery!
I went to bed a few minutes later and as I was laying in bed, I just KNEW he was going to message me. I laid there and I waited. I knew he was going to ask to cook for me.
I laid there for about 10 minutes trying to ignore the bizarre conviction when my phone beeped.
Private message.
From K.
"I don't deliver, but would you like to come over one day and I'll cook you dinner?"
Apparently I'm psychic.
So a week or so later I went over to his house after work and had Japanese Curry for the first time. He had it all ready when I got there and it was great. The conversation was good, but K made it very, VERY clear he was on the hunt for a relationship and a girlfriend. He made a number of comments about the type of person he was looking for, asked me about my dating life, and seemed a little territorial when I mentioned I had been to the house of a guy who sort of has a reputation for being a player. (Which made me laugh- and no, I didn't fool around with the player! We went to a tailgate at the guy's house. Total coincidence!) K straight up told me that he is 28, single, all of his friends are married with kids or coupled up and that it "was time."
Super interesting. I'd never heard a guy talk like that before, and I enjoyed the transparency. That said, I wasn't totally sure if we were a match. I definitely find him attractive, but I didn't really feel that "magic." I was totally open, and would go out with him again, I just didn't feel it. So I didn't feel super invested in the process, but tried to be open. I know from dating David (my college boyfriend) that sometimes that magic happens later, and you shouldn't close yourself off from someone whose company you enjoy because you never know!
We had dinner out on his back patio, which was very nice, and talked for a few hours. I was a little worried because my friend had texted me that there was a huge lumber mil fire right over by my house, and I was right on the edge of the evacuation zone. My animals were home alone, so that made me a little worried, but Sarah promised to watch the news updates and let me know if they evacuated my neighborhood. They didn't, and it turned out okay, but I was a little stressed when I first got there because of the fire- but I didn't want to cancel at the last minute, literally standing on his porch!
Since K made dinner, I brought dessert for us to share, which was also quite tasty. I had planned on bringing this monstrous 3 layer cake thing, but a few things went awry in making it and Sarah and I ended up feeding it to the dogs. (Although it was delicious, it just wasn't very pretty!)
Quite a few things went wrong with this cake. First of all, I couldn't find my round springform pan. So I used a novelty pan in the shape of a piece of wonderbread. Not a bright idea.The shape just didn't work.
Next, I bungled the raspberry mousse at least three times. We made three separate trips to the store. Then, I also deviated from the recipe (which I had made up to begin with.) Because K had mentioned he preferred lighter desserts and this was a dark chocolate, chocolate cake, it felt too heavy for what we were having for dinner. So I switched everything to white cake and white chocolate ganache, but it didn't turn out the same. I'd also never made white ganache before and it was not pretty. It also didn't coat like it was supposed to. (Probably because I thinned it out too much. )
Anyway, so it didn't look so bad at first, but by the end it looked like vomit.
The dog's loved it. We gave them 20 seconds, and then took it away. The cake, while ugly, tasted amazing.
I ended up bringing homemeade whipped cream, raspberries and balckberries for dessert instead. My friend suggested I bring whipped cream and strawberries but that sounded so dirty I couldn't handle it and got more expensive fruit. HA!
After dinner and dessert and a few hours of talking, K walked me most of the way back to my car, gave me a real, body-smushing hug, and we said goodbye. Nothing else physical, but it felt like a good time, and I enjoyed his company for friendship or whatever.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Flea Troubles
A friend had come over to hang out, and Charlie was doing his usual "show off" routine a couple weeks ago. He played fetch, showed her all his toys and then started his humping routine.
Yes, I said humping routine.
When Charlie is anxious, he'll grab his bed and start going to town on it. It's pretty embarrassing. My friend is an animal person, so I tried not to make a big deal out of it, but it was still pretty awkward. It went on for about... two hours. I was actually afraid he was going to get sore.
After she left, (traumatized, I'm sure) I started to wonder if something was wrong with his boy bits. So I flipped him over to check out his junk. (Charming, right?)
One word.....
FLEAS
There were fleas EVERYWHERE all over his poor crotch.
If one pet has fleas, you can bet all three of them do. I freaked out and ran to WalMart at midnight and spent a fortune on medication and treated them all that night. I was worried about treating Tootie because his diabetes still isn't controlled and we aren't vaccinating him because his immune system is too compromised right now (per the vet) so she wants to hold off until he's more stable. I called the vet to make sure it would be okay and they said go ahead, so I did.
I waited a couple of days, and then started checking the cats. Tootie seemed okay, but Amelia's whole tushie was COVERED in flea dirt. It was disgusting. I decided to do the unthinkable (to a cat.) I decided to give her a bath.
Sarah and I went to the store and bought a lingerie wash bag with a draw string top. When I worked for the vet, this is what they used to wash cats. They only had the cheap ones in colors, so I selected a beautiful hot pink.
Amelia had no idea what was coming, so of course she was easy to get INTO the bag.
But then of course I did the horrible, bad, bad thing to her. I stuck her in the tub!
Obviously she was not pleased.
She actually managed to wiggle INTO the bag and then her head wasn't out. She was fine, but it kind of freaked me out. It was really good I finally did the bath though, not only for the fleas, but because she's gotten so chunky that she can't reach her own butt to clean it! It was pretty dirty and gross back there. I was glad to get her cleaned up finally.
Charlie got really distressed over her crying though and tried to comfort her. I think this is the first and only time they've ever been affectionate towards each other- only took 4 years!
Amelia survived her bath and recovered fine! Unfortunately, everybody still seems to have fleas. Charlie and Amelia both got baths (Amelia just a regular bath, Charlie got a flea bath). Everybody got at least one Frontline treatment, and Amelia and Charlie got two. We still have fleas though. It's been two weeks. Ideas? I'm freaking out. It's so gross!
Yes, I said humping routine.
When Charlie is anxious, he'll grab his bed and start going to town on it. It's pretty embarrassing. My friend is an animal person, so I tried not to make a big deal out of it, but it was still pretty awkward. It went on for about... two hours. I was actually afraid he was going to get sore.
After she left, (traumatized, I'm sure) I started to wonder if something was wrong with his boy bits. So I flipped him over to check out his junk. (Charming, right?)
One word.....
FLEAS
There were fleas EVERYWHERE all over his poor crotch.
If one pet has fleas, you can bet all three of them do. I freaked out and ran to WalMart at midnight and spent a fortune on medication and treated them all that night. I was worried about treating Tootie because his diabetes still isn't controlled and we aren't vaccinating him because his immune system is too compromised right now (per the vet) so she wants to hold off until he's more stable. I called the vet to make sure it would be okay and they said go ahead, so I did.
I waited a couple of days, and then started checking the cats. Tootie seemed okay, but Amelia's whole tushie was COVERED in flea dirt. It was disgusting. I decided to do the unthinkable (to a cat.) I decided to give her a bath.
Sarah and I went to the store and bought a lingerie wash bag with a draw string top. When I worked for the vet, this is what they used to wash cats. They only had the cheap ones in colors, so I selected a beautiful hot pink.
Amelia had no idea what was coming, so of course she was easy to get INTO the bag.
Charlie got really distressed over her crying though and tried to comfort her. I think this is the first and only time they've ever been affectionate towards each other- only took 4 years!
Amelia survived her bath and recovered fine! Unfortunately, everybody still seems to have fleas. Charlie and Amelia both got baths (Amelia just a regular bath, Charlie got a flea bath). Everybody got at least one Frontline treatment, and Amelia and Charlie got two. We still have fleas though. It's been two weeks. Ideas? I'm freaking out. It's so gross!
Friday, August 15, 2014
Coffee date at Barry's Espresso
In April or May I went out with this guy named Mike. His pictures were cute, he was a great text-er and I liked just about everything about him. He is around 30, over 6 foot, white, blondish hair- sort of reminded me of my friend's husband Jason. Cute guy! He had just graduated with a BS in General Sciences and was geared up to apply for vet school. He owned his own house already and had a pretty good settled life. My biggest complaint was the fact he had a pet snake. (Gross.)
We texted for a good couple of weeks before finally making plans to meet at a Jewish deli near campus called Barry's Espresso. I got there early and had my first Matzo Ball soup! It was good. Not good enough to get again, but good enough for me to not throw it away and be pleased I could cross this item off my culinary bucket list.
When Mike got there (late) I had already eaten my soup, and my cookie, and was wrapping up my coffee. He walked in casual, but confident. He looked EXACTLY like his pictures, which pleased me. (So often you can't tell!)
As soon as he opened his mouth though, I went... "Oh, no."
Let me explain. He was very friendly. Our conversation was great! It took little effort and we got along well. We had lots in common. We sustained our conversation for a good couple of hours. He had lunch, and it was a good time. When he left it was a little awkward, though, because he just threw his plate away and left. There was no hug or formal goodbye, which I felt was odd. I decided I would go out with him again, but I already knew we were not a match.
I'm sure you're asking, "Why?"
He was... feminine. Like, are you sure you don't like boys? His mannerisms were SO exaggerated. When he laughed, it was like... Oh gosh. I felt like I was sitting with a girlfriend. NOT A MATCH.
I decided I would be friendly and wait it out and see. If he asked me out again, I decided I wouldn't say no. We both thanked each other for the date over text a few days later, but I think this was the first mutual fade out I ever experienced. We were both nice, but didn't press anything. It was the perfect dumping.
Haven't heard from him since.
...Thank goodness.
We texted for a good couple of weeks before finally making plans to meet at a Jewish deli near campus called Barry's Espresso. I got there early and had my first Matzo Ball soup! It was good. Not good enough to get again, but good enough for me to not throw it away and be pleased I could cross this item off my culinary bucket list.
When Mike got there (late) I had already eaten my soup, and my cookie, and was wrapping up my coffee. He walked in casual, but confident. He looked EXACTLY like his pictures, which pleased me. (So often you can't tell!)
As soon as he opened his mouth though, I went... "Oh, no."
Let me explain. He was very friendly. Our conversation was great! It took little effort and we got along well. We had lots in common. We sustained our conversation for a good couple of hours. He had lunch, and it was a good time. When he left it was a little awkward, though, because he just threw his plate away and left. There was no hug or formal goodbye, which I felt was odd. I decided I would go out with him again, but I already knew we were not a match.
I'm sure you're asking, "Why?"
He was... feminine. Like, are you sure you don't like boys? His mannerisms were SO exaggerated. When he laughed, it was like... Oh gosh. I felt like I was sitting with a girlfriend. NOT A MATCH.
I decided I would be friendly and wait it out and see. If he asked me out again, I decided I wouldn't say no. We both thanked each other for the date over text a few days later, but I think this was the first mutual fade out I ever experienced. We were both nice, but didn't press anything. It was the perfect dumping.
Haven't heard from him since.
...Thank goodness.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
The Rash of Death
I flew back to the East Coast ( landing at BWI- Baltimore, my favorite cheapie airport) last weekend for a wedding in Northern Virginia, and got to visit some old friends/clients/"family" (kith), and do some shoots. It was a great weekend, very busy, but I had so much fun. It was definitely one of those weekends where I felt so incredibly grateful for the blessings my job as a photographer has had on my life. The opportunity to travel (even when my free time is so limited), and meet new people and see new things is amazing. As I dial back a little bit on the business as I continue to grow in my new field, I have been more able to recognize how precious this time is in my life. I am so grateful that I have been given this positive perspective, finally!
I am very excited to tell you all about DC and the friends I saw, but first, we need to get down to business. I have contracted the RASH OF DEATH.
What, pray tell is that?
I have no idea.
I spent Saturday an Sunday crawling around in the woods with different clients are various locations so it basically could be anything. When I got on the plane on Monday, I felt a little itchy, but nothing too bad- barely noticeable. Thought I had a mosquito bite.
Next morning at work, my leg looks like this:
Hmm... that's funny. Definetly a couple of scratches, but quite a few welts for it to be mosquito bites.
I slapped it with some creams and powders, and then my leg looked like this:
It was getting pretty itchy at this point, and as you can see, had spread/shown a reaction on the right leg now too.
Then it started looking pretty scabby. Hmmm.
Ideas about chiggers, poison ivy, and a variety of other ailments started being thrown around at this point. Meanwhile, I am treating with hydrocortisone, gold bond powder, Advil, Benadryl. Sort of a lot of drugs, right out of the gate.
Then we get to Thursday, when I already had an appointment with my PCP to go over my random body ache and general health.
It was here I was starting to panic a little. Two doctors and a nurse all discussed my legs and decided on chiggers or fleas, with the majority opinion swaying towards chiggers. They gave me a prescription for 60mg of prednisone and sent me on my way.
But the itch didn't stop there. It started waking me up in the night. I'd frantically begun texting my friends that I couldn't handle how itchy it was. I am not being melodramatic here. IT ITCHES SO FRAEKING BAD. It quickly escalated to unbearable and I started loading up on numbing spray and blister band aids in addition to what I already had been taking. Pain relieving cream is your friend here! Even so, that was still not enough. Getting out of a hot bath one night I scrubbed all my skin off until it bled. (It felt amazing). Then I got a washcloth to "dry" it, and of course, used that as a scratching tool too and scrubbed all of the pretty scabs my body had made.
Out of desperation, I decided to shellac my legs with clear nail polish, as many friends told me was the easiest solution and Dr. Google said was a very bad idea.
I appeared to have angered it.
This is pretty accurate as to what it looked like for most of Sunday and Monday.
Sunday night I couldn't fall asleep until after 5am, and then only slept an hour. What a miserable experience that was! I cried, argued with myself, texted people and generally speaking, got very whiney.
My friend finally got me to call the doctor again on Monday afternoon and they got me an urgent appointment with my PCP in 25 minutes. I was soaked in sweat when I got there after rushing in the car and then across campus and was totally disgusting looking. They kept asking if I had a fever, but no, I was just being gross and wearing dirty clothes in humid weather.
When we took off the bandaids on my toes, we got a lovely surprise!
Hello, infection!
(My nail polish is missing because I SCRATCHED IT OFF).
This time I got the benefit of FOUR MORE DOCTORS and ANOTHER nurse weighing in on my leg drama. They all poked prodded, examined me and asked a million questions. Everything from scabies to allergies was thrown around before they finally agreed on a diagnosis of poison ivy, and an allergic reaction to go with it.
The loudest doctor said the directional lines around my ankles looked precisely like the grass/vines brushing up against my feet as I walked through ground bushes. My PCP was concerned it was really mite tracking, not scratches (aka scabies). It took them about 20 minutes to come to a consensus on the poison ivy, and then they went all out with treatment.
Extend the 60 mg/day prednisone, topical prescription strength anti itch gel, an oral antibiotic FOUR TIMES A DAY, a sleeping pill/anti-histamine to get me to sleep, gelly burn pads around the biggest points of infection, and a couple other things I have now forgotten.
I walked out of the office like this:
They bandaged both of my ankles like I had tried to slit my wrists. It was pretty attractive, I must say.
I managed to sleep last night with the help of the sedative, but I am still itchy. Less desperately so though, so that must be recognized as an improvement!
I still am not sure what this is. People who have had poison ivy say my initial rash didn't look like it. I have no idea. I just hope this works. We are on day 11 of this hell. Anybody got an opinion?
I am very excited to tell you all about DC and the friends I saw, but first, we need to get down to business. I have contracted the RASH OF DEATH.
What, pray tell is that?
I have no idea.
I spent Saturday an Sunday crawling around in the woods with different clients are various locations so it basically could be anything. When I got on the plane on Monday, I felt a little itchy, but nothing too bad- barely noticeable. Thought I had a mosquito bite.
Next morning at work, my leg looks like this:
Hmm... that's funny. Definetly a couple of scratches, but quite a few welts for it to be mosquito bites.
I slapped it with some creams and powders, and then my leg looked like this:
It was getting pretty itchy at this point, and as you can see, had spread/shown a reaction on the right leg now too.
Then it started looking pretty scabby. Hmmm.
Ideas about chiggers, poison ivy, and a variety of other ailments started being thrown around at this point. Meanwhile, I am treating with hydrocortisone, gold bond powder, Advil, Benadryl. Sort of a lot of drugs, right out of the gate.
Then we get to Thursday, when I already had an appointment with my PCP to go over my random body ache and general health.
It was here I was starting to panic a little. Two doctors and a nurse all discussed my legs and decided on chiggers or fleas, with the majority opinion swaying towards chiggers. They gave me a prescription for 60mg of prednisone and sent me on my way.
But the itch didn't stop there. It started waking me up in the night. I'd frantically begun texting my friends that I couldn't handle how itchy it was. I am not being melodramatic here. IT ITCHES SO FRAEKING BAD. It quickly escalated to unbearable and I started loading up on numbing spray and blister band aids in addition to what I already had been taking. Pain relieving cream is your friend here! Even so, that was still not enough. Getting out of a hot bath one night I scrubbed all my skin off until it bled. (It felt amazing). Then I got a washcloth to "dry" it, and of course, used that as a scratching tool too and scrubbed all of the pretty scabs my body had made.
Out of desperation, I decided to shellac my legs with clear nail polish, as many friends told me was the easiest solution and Dr. Google said was a very bad idea.
This is pretty accurate as to what it looked like for most of Sunday and Monday.
Sunday night I couldn't fall asleep until after 5am, and then only slept an hour. What a miserable experience that was! I cried, argued with myself, texted people and generally speaking, got very whiney.
My friend finally got me to call the doctor again on Monday afternoon and they got me an urgent appointment with my PCP in 25 minutes. I was soaked in sweat when I got there after rushing in the car and then across campus and was totally disgusting looking. They kept asking if I had a fever, but no, I was just being gross and wearing dirty clothes in humid weather.
When we took off the bandaids on my toes, we got a lovely surprise!
(My nail polish is missing because I SCRATCHED IT OFF).
This time I got the benefit of FOUR MORE DOCTORS and ANOTHER nurse weighing in on my leg drama. They all poked prodded, examined me and asked a million questions. Everything from scabies to allergies was thrown around before they finally agreed on a diagnosis of poison ivy, and an allergic reaction to go with it.
The loudest doctor said the directional lines around my ankles looked precisely like the grass/vines brushing up against my feet as I walked through ground bushes. My PCP was concerned it was really mite tracking, not scratches (aka scabies). It took them about 20 minutes to come to a consensus on the poison ivy, and then they went all out with treatment.
Extend the 60 mg/day prednisone, topical prescription strength anti itch gel, an oral antibiotic FOUR TIMES A DAY, a sleeping pill/anti-histamine to get me to sleep, gelly burn pads around the biggest points of infection, and a couple other things I have now forgotten.
I walked out of the office like this:
They bandaged both of my ankles like I had tried to slit my wrists. It was pretty attractive, I must say.
I managed to sleep last night with the help of the sedative, but I am still itchy. Less desperately so though, so that must be recognized as an improvement!
I still am not sure what this is. People who have had poison ivy say my initial rash didn't look like it. I have no idea. I just hope this works. We are on day 11 of this hell. Anybody got an opinion?
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Junction City Scandinavian Festival 5k Race Report (#10/14)
Race #10 of our 14 in 2014 Race Series. Time: 39:18
Race number 10! We got here so fast! My friend Sarah and I made a goal earlier this year to run 14 races in 2014! It's been really fun, and we've traveled all over the state of Oregon running! We've each done a couple on our own, and the rest together.
I want to write more about this later, but I want to at least touch on this so everything is chronological. My best friend Kristin's dad was diagnosed with cancer about 6 weeks ago and was sadly told it has progressed too far before they caught it. It was his second battle with cancer, and he went downhill very rapidly. The night before the race I talked with some of Kristin's family, and Kristin and they didn't think he'd made it through the night. Sarah and I ended up staying up until 1am the night before the race working on some things for the family. I left her house after that, slept until 4am when my phone beeped with a text message that Jerry had passed away. I'll go into more detail on Jerry's story in another post. Honestly it's too overwhelming to write about yet.
I got up about an hour and a half later and picked up Sarah at 6:50am to drive to Junction City. We got lost on the way there, but we made it by 7:30am, got free street parking (yay!) and got our race packets. No swag this time, but I decided when I got up that morning that I wanted to "Jog for Jerry." I made a silly little sign, and asked Sarah if she thought it was dumb, but she didn't, so we pinned it on my back.
Because I know someone is sure to ask, NO that is not my bra hanging out in the back. That is the design of the back of my support tank, which is two-tone. I usually wear a shirt over my tank, but the last couple of races I've gotten a little chaffing from running in the heat in my shirts, or my shirt has ridden up and obscured my bib. The tank is really, really supportive, and almost compression style, which I really love. It's really difficult for me to find tops that fit that I can comfortable work out in. This tank was from Old Navy, but unfortunately, they don't make it anymore. I plan to wear it until it shreds.
The race started at 8:15am sharp and we were ready to go! I ran my fastest mile (by ONE second) the first mile, and jogged the first almost 5 minutes solid. I have finally established a fairly predictable pattern the last few races. I typically run the first .5 mile, which takes me about 5 minutes. Then I start intervaling. Because of this, my first mile is always my fastest. If I start slow, it doesn't seem to change how long I run (yet), so I'm going to stick with this method as long as it works! Mile two is my slowest mile, and then once I hit mile 3, I speed up again, usually sprinting into the finish.
This course was really great. It had some mild elevation changes, which gave it variety, nothing remotely challenging, but just enough to encourage you to run the downs, and the "hills" mild enough to trick you into thinking you could run the whole thing. I don't know that I am walking less on these races, but I am running faster. Whatever works I guess!
I was pretty deep in my thoughts during the race- so much so, I never saw Sarah pass me on the out and back even though she tried to get my attention. For a few minutes I almost thought she had dropped out or something because I never saw her. It's more likely though she passed me when I was thinking about Jerry, and trying not to cry. (I was only moderately successful at that challenge.)
Because I had finally met my 5k goal (a sub-40), I wasn't too stressed about over reaching for any improvements on this one. I wasn't worried about PR'ing. I understood my running routine and just kind of generally hoped to stay under 45 minutes because that's been pretty consistent for me these days.
My last race at the Eugene Marathon 5k in July was a 39:53, but today I whupped that and got a 39:18! Amazing! Thank you for running with me Jerry- I felt you with me the whole way!
After the race, I was pleased to see the water and snack stations were easy to find and very accessible right at the end of the chute. (Unlike the Eugene Marathon.) I was less pleased to see after I stopped my Garmin that it had only register 3.08 miles instead of 3.11. I almost wanted to scream. I would have restarted the watch and finished the last .03/.02 but I didn't recognize the deficient until the moment the screen was clearing as I saved the data. D'oh.
We walked back to the car, hung out a bit, freshened up, and then walked around the fair!
We scoped everything out first, but then I headed straight to the Swedish pancake booth to get some pancakes and lingonberry jam! It was great!
Sarah opted to have something called a Aebleskiver, which is a Danish donut hole type thing that you dunk in jam. it was very good too! Here are the ladies making it. It was very fun to watch!
After that we checked out all the booths, walked around, took our picture in front of the giant Dala Horse, and finally settled on lunch. We both got Swedish meatballs with white gravy, which was amazing. I also got criss cut (waffle) sweet potato fries with a lingonberry ketchup. All was excellent!
All in all, it was a pretty great day! I'm so grateful that I have been able to make a friend who has similar interests as me, likes to spend time together and do fun things that are good for our bodies- like eating treats!
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