Almost Blue

Somewhere over the past month I lost my focus. It's been a gradual progression but I could feel it happening almost in slow motion even though I was moving a mile a minute with the ACMs, the fight and my little jaunt to Meh-he-ko. It hit me tonight when I ordered pasta takeout. Pasta. I've never ordered pasta takeout. And to a diabetic pasta is like kryptonite. But it was more than the pasta. Last night I almost called Counselor. His old buddy who moved to LA is back in town and friended me on Facebook, said we should get together for a drink. It brought back a lot of memories of the three of us going out, like it was in the beginning. Got me thinking about Counselor again. I didn't call him but I was close. Closer than I've been in years. Part of me wants to do it just to get M out of my head. Like chewing gum so you don't smell like garlic you just ate; call Counselor so I don't taste the heartache over M. Ridiculous. I've been using that word a lot. It seems to sum up my emotional state lately. But it does feel good to actually feel something again. For so long I was shut down and cut off from feeling anything. 

So I'm giving myself one more day to sulk in this Almost Blue cloud before I kick it into gear again. Start my morning workouts on Monday. Get my focus back. Find joy. I've felt it, albeit momentary, so I know it exists inside. It's a simple formula. ADMO. I've done it a thousand times. How hard can 1,001 be?

It's Probably Me

I pulled a classic double booking tonight. I met up with my friend Brent and his girlfriend Katie at Seablue for drinks around 6ish. I thought they had tickets for KA tonight so I was planning on maybe 45 minutes with them. Turns out they're going to see KA tomorrow night so we spent a couple hours catching up. It was so fun to hear stories and get to know Katie. Great girl. Smart. They're one of those sickeningly beautiful couples we all love to hate. Problem is, you can't hate them because they're so fun.

By the time 8.30p rolled around I was famished so I said goodbye to the adorable couple and headed back into Seablue for dinner. I shot M an email to see if he wanted to join me. I was pleasantly surprised he was able to sneak away for a bite. These dinners & chats in my office have become comforting & comfortable to me. I missed them when I was away over the weekend. Dangerous stuff. I know I shouldn't play with fire but I can't help myself. He's just one of those people you want to be around. I've only got him for 2 more days so hopefully we can spend at least more dinner up at my Happy Place again. If you see an Asian girl with long black hair and a smile on her face at the end of the bar by the well at Seablue It's Probably Me. Pop over and say hi. 

Good Morning Heartache

Irony is cruel. I'm heartbroken. 

I Need A Dollar

My friend Beth, Hopcraft & me

Today was a lazy day. Woke up late, tweeted for a bit, opened the blinds and laid in bed with the dog while the sun hit our faces. At some point he nudged my hand with his snout as if to say, "Hey fat ass. Get up and take me for a walk." So we did. It was chilly for the first day of spring but I like it crisp. George Bennett didn't mind either. 

I managed to shower and go get a haircut and pedicure. I told myself I could treat myself to the pedicure but only if I went grocery shopping afterwards. I absolutely loathe that pedestrian task. I know, I know. I should be grateful for the luxury, and I am. Doesn't mean I'm going to stop bitching about it. Aside from the actual act of picking out the provisions I think the part that irritates me more is knowing that I have to actually DO something with it when I get home. Cook. Or more accurately, prepare. I don't really cook. For the past several months my idea of cooking consists of chopping chives, green, red & yellow peppers, carrots and ham into little bits, throwing that all into a big bowl with spinach, some fresh pepper, dill and parmesan with a drizzle of vinaigrette. Sounds lovely and it looks nice but after eating 100 bowls of it, it gets old. If someone wired $15 million into my account the first thing I'd get is a personal chef. No question.

While chopping those vegis today I listened to a great new artist named Aloe Blacc (@aloeblacc). I was turned onto him from a tweet from the Cosmopolitan (@Cosmopolitan_LV). They're the new hot Vegas property. I know I shouldn't give props to a non-MGM Resorts International hotel but you can't deny the truth. They are tremendously smart about using social networking sites and they're doing all the right things to create a buzz and attract the right people to their hotel. I still haven't been there but I hope to take M to STK (if things go well). Even if they don't go well I owe Chef Hopcraft a drive-by. He's been at STK (@STKLasVegas) for over 4 months and I have yet to see him in his new digs. He used to be the Executive Chef at my Happy Place, Seablue (@SeablueLV) before he defected to where the beautiful people play. I love that kid. He's the kind of guy you want at your party. He's not the life of the party, he IS the party. Some of my favorite memories are after hours at Seablue with him at the bar shooting back tequila, sneaking a couple cigs. 

I Need A Dollar so back to the grind tomorrow. Lady Gaga is on Friday. Her production team is so cool to work with and her fans are crazy-fun so I'm looking forward to that show. Plus it's on a Friday so I'll have a rare 'normal' weekend off. Bonus. 

It Never Entered My Mind

It's cold, windy and rainy in Vegas tonight. It's just me, my dog & a late night bottle of Pellegrino. Insomnia has set in. That's not a good combination on a Sunday night. Too much time to think about what might be. My heart says, "Maybe this could be great." My head says, "Has it ever worked out to be great?" In the end it will probably end up being the latter but until I know for sure the promise of "Maybe this could be great" is enough to keep me hopeful. I'm inclined to just ask him, to talk about the big pink elephant in the room. I've got nothing to lose but my self-esteem, and really, like I can't regrow it like a lizard regrows a tail. I'm not afraid of rejection. I'm afraid he'll say something like, "It Never Entered My Mind." What's worse than repudiation? Indifference. It's hard to recover from never being a consideration. This is going to be an interesting couple of weeks. 

But For Now

I met him one night at Seablue. Of course. It's my Happy Place. We sat on the corner of the bar. I remember leaning into him, a comfortable familiarity, a closeness. My heart was beating so fast; his smile was calm, reassuring. He's goofy sometimes but mostly sincere and intentional with hints of boyish charm. So many things I want to know about him But For Now the idea of him will be enough. Nothing more seems important somehow.

I Wanna Be Around

So I get a text yesterday from Counselor, "Sorry I didn't get back Saturday." At the moment attorneys are not high on my list of evolved human beings. (I got called for jury duty. No biggie. I'm happy to do my civic duty but as luck would have it I got stuck in a pool for a potential trial that may last 3+ weeks. We're still in voir dire but unless I get a preemptory challenge I think I'm juror #7. I'm going to blog daily about the trial but won't be able to post about it until either a) I get kicked off or b) the trial is over. ) 

I do find it an odd coincidence though. I don't hear from Counselor for years and then just before I have jury duty, as if right on cue, he enters stage right. "If you're interested, I'm going to try this place this week if you'll let me treat." Yeah, I'm totally intersted in being stood up twice in one week by someone who 'treats' me like an afterthought or (as Vera Farmiga so accurately stated in Up In The Air) a parenthesis. Go eat some tainted meat Counselor. M where are you? Right now would be a great time to jump in and prove that all men I'm attracted to aren't witty, charming, damaged, soulless upright corpses. Or maybe just show me that I'm not crazy and can actually have good judgement about a man. Any time. Just dive right in. I don't mind the interruption. Really.

Yes, I realize I'm the damaged one by even giving a fat rat's ass about what Counselor does. He's like acid reflux. Just keeps coming up and burns on the way down. I admit it. I'm a mean, vindictive, childish brat when it comes to him. I Wanna Be Around when somebody breaks his heart, to watch the pain rise as the tears well up, look him straight in the eyes and say, "Remember how this feels. Right now. And for as long as you live don't ever make someone feel like you do now. Ever."

I haven't really thought about Counselor in 3 maybe 4 years and now since I'm writing again it's all just flowing out of me... like projectile vomit. Apparently I've got a bit of lingering resentment. Where's the Chris Botti song about that?

I've Got You Under My Skin

It's Friday night with no events in the Grand Garden this weekend so I'm taking advantage of some down time. Just me & George Bennett watching Dateline with my MacBook Air on my lap catching up on some work.

My home phone rings around 9.30p but I don't answer it. I never do. There are only a handful of people who have that number and all of them know better. About 20 minutes later my cel rings and it's the lawyer or 'Counselor' as I like to refer to him. I was once in an uncontrollable, ridiculous, torturous, maddening, outrageous, delicious love affair with him. When it ended I knew I'd recover but I would never be the same, never approach love with that kind of reckless abandon and lack of judgement. Diving in head first may be for some people but I learned the hard way it's not for me. I'm far to calculated, guarded and (sigh) fragile.

I haven't really spoken to him in years and then out of the blue - poof - there he is. He was calling from my happy place, a great restaurant called Seablue. (I used to joke that my friend Leslie and I were like the Norm and Cliff of Seablue. You could always find us at the end of the bar by the well on any given night after work. In our defense it is just steps away from our offices at the arena.) While I think of it as MY favorite place on earth, Counselor and I did have some great times there too: me a cucumber martini, him a Beefeater Gibson straight up. He said he begged the bartender to give up my cel number. Note to self: Kill Bill.

The conversation was short and sweet. One of those, "I was just thinking about you" calls. He asked me out to dinner tomorrow. He knows I love sushi; I said yes. I probably shouldn't have but I do miss my friend. And let's be honest, I've Got You Under My Skin Counselor. I always have. I'm just not sure it's the same anymore. Two years ago, hell one year ago I would have given a lung for him to call. Now all I can think about is why wasn't it M who called instead.

My Funny Valentine

Ok, so My Funny Valentine is an obvious choice but I can't always be clever.

I'm not terribly distraught about being single on Valentine's Day. Today started off as just another Monday I took off after an event. Weather was great in Vegas so I took George Bennett out for a long walk. I used to hate taking walks; I remember back in college Terri used to try to get me to walk around Lake Calhoun all the time. Now I find my walks are critical to keeping sane and insulated from the mindless ass-kissing that goes on at work or the tireless self-examination of what my life is in comparison to my friends. Aside from the obvious physiological benefits, at this stage in my life the walks provide so much more. When the sun hits my face and I can feel the rays laying a soft glow of tan I think of it like a layer of protection, like a shield from the stings of criticism, rejection, pity & disdain. It doubles as an insulator to keep the insecurities, self-loathing & monstrous ego inside... well most of the time.

Late in the day my phone started ringing. Caller ID said work. I was already in the middle of reading idiotic emails and thought no way. Not answering today. Leave a message. Luckily they did. It's funny how a phone call can change everything. It was the bell desk saying I had roses waiting for me. I'm not going back to the office for a couple days and I was dying to know so I called to see who would have sent me flowers. I thought maybe my parents. Hoped they were from M but why would he send me flowers today of all days. No signature but a note that left little question it was him. It would be great if this was the start of a great love story I could read to my grandkids but experience tells me it was nothing more than a lovely gesture from a good man - so that's what I'm going with. Nothing wrong with a lovely gesture.