The Goddess of East 84th Street

Happy Birthday, Baby!

2007-01-20T10:43:00.000-05:00

Happy birthday, sweetheart!!! Enjoy your flowers & balloons! Wish I could be there to see your face when you get home from golfing & find them waiting... Thanks for inviting me over for pizza & chardonnay last night. You say the sweetest/cutest things...can't believe what a treasure I have in you. Oh, & I hope you enjoyed my 'obscene' birthday phone call as well. Talk to you later baby, & see you soon. I love you so much!

A Valentine's Day rendezvous...

2007-01-07T08:42:00.000-05:00

Tommy called last night, all amorous — wanting to see me "right now" & asking if I'd like to come over & join him for pizza - so cute, being as we're nearly 800 miles apart =)

During that 45 minute convo, we committed. We're going to spend 5 days on Captiva Island in a romantic inn over Valentine's Day. No computers, no golf clubs. Just us... He said "honey, I really want this to work out." Well, it goes without saying how much I want it to, as well. Haven't come down from this high yet. Probably won't. My dream finally seems to be coming true. Please, no one pinch me & wake me up!!!

Reservations have been made, for a suite - LR, DR, kitchen, BR & screened-in balcony overlooking the bay. Quiet. I've arranged for a sumptuous bouquet of red roses, Peruvian lilies & Sunset protea to be there, in our suite, when we arrive — along with a chilled bottle of Dom. Got all my sexy music loaded on my iPod. This will be, without doubt, the most romantic night, & 5 days, of my entire life...

Time is...

2006-12-24T11:47:00.000-05:00

Too slow for those who wait,
too swift for those who fear,
too long for those who grieve,
too short for those who rejoice.

But for those who love,
time is eternity.

Blame it on the full moon...& a few martinis...

2006-12-03T10:46:00.000-05:00

Haven't had much to write about lately. Lots of work & stress, lots of nothing with my honey. Until Friday night. Blame it on the full moon, but we were having this incredible talk (while watching his former team lose the USA Conference Championship) when we decided that I should drive out to Louisiana. Immediately. Make a 12-hour drive, just like that! Since I'd had a couple of dirty martinis I told him I'd come out in the morning, but when I woke up I had chills, headache & a fever. Flu.

Needless to say, I didn't go — am still sitting right here. Still suffering from flu symptoms. But he called last night & it seems we are now committed to moving this thing forward — are going to think about where to go & talk in a few days — get together here, there, or someplace totally different — by the end of the year.

During our talk I also realized what I'd feared all along is indeed the case: he just doesn't let anyone 'in' — has lots of buddies but no best friends, no one he talks to & confides in. He has become an island (remember the old Simon & Garfunkle lyrics "...& a rock feels no pain, & an island never cries"?) — shuts everything out to avoid the pain of being human. But in so doing he's also locking out happiness. Guess I should be overjoyed that he has let me in as far as he has, but it also the reason he goes back inside himself when he finds himself getting too close, too committed. But we're almost there, his barriers are close to coming down, & once we're together there'll be no denying, no going back. I just have to be very, very cool in the interim...

That homely girl I mentioned a coupla weeks ago...

2006-11-26T13:31:00.000-05:00

the one who got married after knowing this guy just a short time? Well, the marriage lasted a grand total of 3 weeks, poor thing...

Well, she ended up having dinner with us Thanksgiving. I'm not sure about the reasons behind this short-lived union (not my business, nor do I want it to be), but she seems okay with it. And I thought the 18-month marriage to my first husband was short?!?

Weddings & more weddings...

2006-11-04T18:50:00.000-05:00

This really homely girl I know — Lisa — got married less than 2 hours ago. She met him about 3 months ago, & now they're hitched. for crissakes. My officemate, Bernie, also got married this afternoon. He, however, had at least known his bride for several years...

And me? Here I sit, 17 months into a relationship that's stuck in a ditch — can't even get him to call me (yeah, we're at an 'impasse' yet once again), muchless commit to a vacation, never mind marriage. Our relationship is starting to resemble the totally fucked up state of SATC's Big & Carrie's 'thing' — hot one day, cold the next — more & more...so much so that I'm beginning to wonder if the SATC writers were somehow able to look into my future & wrote about what would happen between Tommy & me & pass it off as romantic satire for public consumption???

Pretty damn pathethic, huh?

Old stuff, a brand new revelation…

2006-10-20T20:37:00.000-04:00

Tommy & I talked for almost 2 hours last night, which ended up with me in tears. Guess I started it by mentioning I’d found some really archane things about him on the Internet (like a quote he gave for a book on Lombardi) & he — yet once again — started in on all that stuff we’ve discussed not once but several times in the now quite distant past: about how great his marriage was, how he couldn’t believe I’d called his son, how I couldn’t have possibly found out anything about his sex life except from one of the women with whom he’d been involved.

Well, duh, with that last statement alone he admitted to cheating not once but multiple times — & this after telling me once Cherry & he had adjusted to having a child so early it was all smooth sailing... Today I am slightly galled to realize he actually must think I’m stupid &/or naïve enough to not be able to fit the obvious dichotomy of his declarations together quite easily...

Honestly, though, in the overall scheme of things it really doesn’t matter whether he cheated or not. I’m just glad it wasn’t done on my clock...

By God's grace...

2006-10-17T22:38:00.000-04:00

we are still together. Only God knows why because, on a subliminal level, I seem to have done everything conceivable to try to destroy it. But he is still here. I now just have to convince him, once again, that we were meant to be — that, as he said long ago, we would have had an extraordinary life together — if we could have had it...

Walking on eggshells (& other unpleasant stuff)...

2006-09-24T11:34:00.000-04:00

He's back. Sort of. Called me at work Friday — no mention of my calls, flowers or ecards — just said he's been 'in & out of town' (Where? And why?!?) — that he was just 'checking in,' was on his way to play golf & wouldn't have his cell with him. I called back many hours later & got his voicemail, after 4 or 5 rings — which means he was still up (he turns the cell off when he goes to bed). But he didn't pick up. Why? Preoccupied with 'someone'?

I'm starting to wonder about a whole bunch of stuff, including that his 'travel' might involve a woman (thus, I'm going to ask him how 'she' is when he calls back) & how he could simply ignore my very obvious pain.

I'm not going to send ecards or call again — at least not until I get some answers to the questions I've been asking & he's been avoiding answering...

The consequences of bad behavior...

2006-09-07T20:48:00.000-04:00

are a hard pill to swallow. Did you ever do something you regret fully, completely, truly?

Last week at this time my honey was where I wanted him, but couldn't leave well enough alone. I wanted more — made a power play designed to make him to take a stand, say I was wrong — fight to keep me. But he didn't. Wouldn't. Or maybe couldn't. My play backfired in the worst possible scenario. And now he's giving me the silent treatment. I called & tried to explain — to his voicemail — that I adore him & wouldn't hurt him for anything in the world. Sent him ecards (which I know he reads because I get notified when he opens them). Sent him flowers with a note saying he means the world to me, which he does. Called again & said "Baby, please just talk to me?"

Yet he is silent, unresponsive. There I was, planning our wedding, & now it may be over for good...just because I pushed him a little too hard...

Here we go again...

2006-08-26T15:15:00.000-04:00

TS Ernesto — destined to become a 'cane in another day or two — apparently is going to visit one or the other of us, by viritue of our locations on the Gulf coast, sometime by the end of next week. Our trip is off due to a 'cane, yet once again. I'm sick to death of them fucking with my love life...

My husband?!?...

2006-08-13T08:37:00.000-04:00

Tommy called last Saturday night & left a message, as I was already asleep. Obviously had a few 'pops' under his belt, but God — that deep, slurry voice & Cajun drawl made my toes curl & heart melt. "Hey girrrrrrrl, I miss ya," he said. I returned it early Sunday, but got his voicemail. He finally called back late in the afternoon & asked if I was going to be home later, that he'd call when he got home as he was in his car, navigating the Causeway.

He called back about half an hour later — turns out he'd been in Nawlins with friends all day, since early morning, watching some major golf tourney in Britain. But instead of a lot of the flirtatious talk we usually engage in, he got right to the point. Very un-Tommy-like. "I think it's time. I'm finally ready," he said, very softly.

We've talked since but I'm still wondering, a week later, if this was, or was not, an actual proposal...

Guess I'll just have to wait & see...

Tommy turns around...

2006-07-25T15:48:00.000-04:00

It's been quite a dry spell since my last post, but I've been working 60+ hours/week for the past almost 3 mos. trying to get 11 newspaper sites & a huge tourism site online. I've also been kinda busy with my 'boys.'

Bob is gone, never even said 'goodbye.' He wanted it his way or no way, & when I wouldn't play the game his way any longer he left.

But Bob's presence in my life turned out to be a good thing after all, because the little note I emailed Tommy back in late April turned him around. Like it finally dawned on him that it was entirely possible he could lose me forever. We've been talking at length for two months, & he's going to book planes & a hotel for a four or five day 'vacation' for us — even said he'll sell his house when I told him (in response to his suggestion that I come out to Mandeville) how uncomfortable I would be in Cherry's home. I mean she did, after all, inform me once, in a very stern voice, that I would get her husband over her dead body. Talk about irony...

This story is still playing out as I type. But I have an incredibly good feeling about it all...

Laughing my ass off, uncontrollably...

2006-06-09T17:08:00.000-04:00

Tommy called a little while ago — his voice sounded perplexed, at best. 'Did you go back on pain killers?' he ventured. 'No, why?' I asked. 'Well, you left a 6-minute message on my cell earlier — it was just all these muffled noises. Wierd...' I knew I hadn't spoken with him, so logged in to check my billing minutes & the evidence was there. Shit. That's the problem with not locking your cell's keyboard before sticking it in your purse. It's happened before, but I usually catch it. This time I didn't, because I was driving to work with the top down & radio blasting. 'Oh hon,' I tried to explain, 'I guess it was bouncing around in my bag while I was driving & just dialed you, sorry!' He was silent for a moment. 'Well, at least I know what the inside of your purse sounds like now!' he chuckled.

When I related it later — out loud to my girlfriends — we all laughed so hard we almost peed our pants.

Me? This is one of those things that'll end up crossing my mind when I'm sitting at my desk or walking down the street by myself & cause me to burst out laughing — the kind of thing that makes passersby (or your office mates) wonder if you've totally lost it and you feeling like a total arsehole ;]

Two loves...

2006-05-01T10:53:00.000-04:00

It's been a long time since I've posted, & a lot has happened in the interim. George paved the way for me to open myself to men other than Tommy — & out of the blue, along comes Bob — a former Virginia Tech quarterback, now NFL scout, who came into my life like a hurricane & seems perfect in every way: romantic, sensitive, thoughtful, caring. Says he's playing for keeps.

On this note, I sent Tommy a really lovely email saying "Well, your wish has come true, in part anyway — that I go away. There comes a time when a person can no longer be the only one giving, can no longer beg & grovel, can no longer take the emotional & verbal abuse. Though I will always love you, I really don't like you very much anymore. Having decided, the day after you said you didn't need or want me, that I had to move on, I have indeed done just that. I am with someone else now, & it's serious. Please don't close yourself off to love, as I believe you're doing. There is nothing more wonderful, magical, precious. But it has to go both ways, & you just aren't willing to give unless it's convenient. Don't live the rest of your life alone. Open your heart — allow yourself to be happy. Go find love & be true to it. We only go around once, after all... I am still here for you, despite everything. And that, Tommy, is love — pure & true. Unconditional..."

He left a message on my voicemail the very next day & — on the surface, anyway — seems to have taken my words to heart. Aside from some initial sarcastic remarks about 'lover boy,' he said he just wants me to be happy. Talk about having your mind blown... Well, this one will have to play out in its own time. I don't know which direction to go, but I'm sure Fate & my heart will figure it out eventually. I'm not in a desperate hurry — need to make sure I make the right decision, for I will have to live with it for a long, long time...

Making peace...

2006-04-06T20:45:00.000-04:00

I've finally made peace with my failed romances with Tommy & George — for the first time in many months feel less anxious as I've realized there is nothing I can do to change anything. Haven't heard from Tommy since mid-February, tho I've left messages & sent e-cards (which he does read because I get receipts saying the card has been picked up). Guess I fucked up big time by telling him I'd talk to him in my own good time because it brought his stubborn streak to the surface. I'm sure he'd rather die than give in & talk to me. At least for now.

George finally called last weekend & we had a great talk. He has gone back home, but is far from happy — said he still has a lot of unresolved issues — isn't sure it'll work out between them, but they're trying. At least the bad feelings between us have been resolved...

I've been having lots of first dates lately. The fireman was a stiff & the newest one, Sam, seemed only to want to fuck me. Things happen (or not) for reasons unknown to us. When something's right, it'll stick. Maybe it will be Tommy, maybe not. At present, I'd be happy if he just communicated... But I don't think he will. Too proud. Too stubborn...

Another month from hell is over...

2006-03-17T15:38:00.000-05:00

It started a month ago last night — Tommy's harsh words, followed by an apologizing phone call a month ago today. Have not heard from him since. And I was on my way out to Nawlins to hook up with George (&, possibly Tommy). I don't need to repeat, again, what happened after our fabulous Friday night. Then I had to have one of my sheepies PTS on Tuesday, which broke my heart, after he collapsed on Monday. Hopefully today — St. Patrick's Day — will have better results. Have a date with a hottie — an ex-NYC fireman (who was at 9/11). I am learning not to expect too much out of men, having been so bitterly disappointed by them of late. Time alone will tell...

Rethinking it all...

2006-02-23T22:40:00.000-05:00

I'm pretty depressed. Aside from George, who I was with until Sunday morning, my trip sucked. Both job interviews fell through. He got a call to come into work on Sunday, so I spent the remainder of Sunday & part of Monday in the boonies in cold, damp, depressing weather, all by myself. Not a ton of fun, especially after paying $1500 for the trip...

Now everyone on the forum is blaming me for being irresponsible because George & I didn't show up for my get-together (we were both sick — me with chills/fever, he with a migraine). How could I possibly have contacted them when I had no wireless internet connection & only 2 phone #s (neither of which were answered)? No way to contact anyone...

Tommy called tonight, but didn't leave a message. George hasn't called since Monday afternoon, & I'm now seriously rethinking this whole NOLA thing now. No job, nowhere to live, no boyfriend...

Then I had a couple of really nasty PMs from someone on the forum I don't even know — saying I was running around in a slutty nightgown in front of a bunch of strangers & made a complete fool out of myself, that George will never see me again because I'm an alchie & drug addict. Of course none of this is true & I have no idea who this person is or how they would have gotten any information about me since they only joined the forum yesterday! I forwarded those PMs to the administrator, & the nasty person is now forbidden from contacting me or making any further comments about me or they'll be banned from the forum. This event has left me devastated...

Life sux...

Choices, & the courage to make them...

2006-02-20T14:42:00.000-05:00

Dear Jennifer,
Here is your couple's love horoscope for Friday, February 17:
It's time to take a stand and make some firm decisions. If you keep waffling, the situation will either stay the same, which certainly isn't a viable option, or it will actually get worse. Go ahead and make a choice.

This horoscope could not be closer to the truth, & actually did evolve. Tommy called first thing Friday morning (the 17th, the date of this horoscope) — all sweet & soft-spoken & saying (amongst many other things) for me to call him, that maybe we could go to the get-together Saturday night after all. I didn't pick up my cell, didn't even listen to his message until I was at the airport, & didn't return the call until late that night when I knew he would be asleep as I had no desire to talk to him personally. So I phoned him from the loo of a French Quarter bar at 1AM, saying I doubt he remembers the harsh, cruel words he laid on me last night, but that I do not wish to see or speak to him since I am very hurt & angry - that when/if I am able to put these feelings aside we can perhaps communicate then, not before. I made my choice & at least got the last word in...

Back to earlier in the day, I missed my flight &, adding insult to injury, had to pay an additional $500 to fly first class on a flight two hours later. That or nothing. So I bit the bullet, got on the 1:59, & arrived in Nawlins around 7. Got my rental car, drove into the city to hook up with George & a couple of his friends in for the weekend from Arkansas. He held my hand all night & made me laugh constantly, told me I was so much more than he'd expected, & that Tommy is certifiable for treating someone so wonderful so badly. He also carried me around most of the night since I was in such pain with my hip I could barely walk. Tommy would do all (or even any) of that for me? Doubtful...

Mardi Gras was in full swing & the streets, bars & restaurants were packed with revelers. We all (George, me & his friends Rich & Darlene) got right into the swing of things — ended up at this wild country bar where 20-somethings were stripping while riding the mechanical bull — one even stripping down to nothing at all!!! Since I couldn't dance, George & I danced in our seats & had a blast nonetheless. We ended up spending the night at Rich & Darlene's B&B since we couldn't have driven around the block, never mind to Folsom.

He held me all night, so careful not to hurt my hip, & told me how beautiful I was when we woke up, said he could become attached to me in a heartbeat. This guy is one hell of a treasure! Only problem is, we both are carrying around so much emotional baggage I doubt we have a real chance to make it work between us: his ex, who is about to take him to the cleaners, & Tommy, who continues to torment me...

Only time will tell...

The end, maybe...

2006-02-16T23:06:00.000-05:00

I just talked with Tommy. He was dead drunk & said some very harsh, cruel things, such as he doesn't want or need me, that I should just 'go away.' I think it was mostly drink speaking — he's never spoken to me with such harshness in his voice, & there hasn't been enough time for it all to sink in. But obviously we're through, or at least it sure looks that way... The love of his life? The one with whom he would, under different circumstances, have lived an extraordinary life? Fuck him. His loss. But it still hurts like hell... Now it's my turn to have a few drinks — hopefully be able to get some sleep. Sleep cures much, if one can manage to erase the anger & anxiety...

Things have changed...

2006-02-15T21:43:00.000-05:00

Yes, I am still going to Nawlins, but things have changed. The person I was going to stay with had to leave for Arkansas tonite as his brother was in a ferocious motorcycle accident & is clinging to life (going 120mph & 'lost it'). But I do have another place to stay — with a guy I met on my LA Today forum who I've spent many hours pm'ing & talking on the phone. He's sensitive, intuitive, romantic, thoughtful, hurt. Just like me. Tommy has not responded to any of my messages, but I sent him an invitation to my party Saturday nite. With my luck, they'll both show up at the party, will go at it, & I'll be fucked. Might do Tommy good, knowing he has serious competition, but will kill me because I have to stay with Geoerge rather than going home with Tommy. I'm committed at this point, can't just dump George like that. What's wrong with this picture?!? Tommy, & his indecision, stubborness...

Fear takes many forms...

2006-02-08T20:48:00.000-05:00

Aside from major stress at work, I have a lot to look forward to: going back to Nawlins in 9 days, hair extensions on Saturday & nails on Weds. (so I will look outrageously gorgeous when I arrive). I'm down to 118 (great for 5'7"), & am walking well enough, 4-1/2 weeks after my last surgery, that I can probably even get away with stilettos! I'm having a get-together in Covington on Saturday the 18th, a couple of lunch dates with friends, & a job interview that could be the answer to my dreams.

But I haven't talked with Tommy in quite a while—hasn't returned any of my calls despite teasing me recently (after I opened with "you rarely call me anymore") that I never call him anymore—& am terrified he is going to let me down (yet once again). I gave him lots of options: meet for drinks Friday after work & take it from there; if we're getting on to come to my party Saturday; if that works well, spend Sunday evening together. No demands—just suggestions. Yet he has committed to nothing & I'm leaving a week from Friday. I'm scared to call him, scared not to call him... The least he can do—after confessions about our feelings & everything we've been through, past & present—is to meet for drinks. My friend Jeff—who is alot like Tommy—thinks he is afraid of truly falling in love with me when we come face to face again...so is avoiding seeing me. I just want honesty, plain & simple, rather than continuing to allow him to fuck with my mind & life...

Me? I'm just plain afraid...that he will, that he won't, that despite all the fun I know I'm going to have, I'll come home with a broken heart because he'll let me down or disappoint me in some deeply hurtful, unforgettable way... I don't know how much more I can bear if I leave again, without seeing him...

I don't remember...

2006-01-26T14:36:00.000-05:00

the last time I've been really happy. Well, actually, I do—it was September 6th, when Tommy last called me 'sweetheart.' Been depressed ever since.

Breaking my hip on 11/30 didn't help. Having the prosthesis pop out on 12/16 & having to have it realigned didn't help either. Having it pop out again on 1/10 was kinda the end of the line. Had to have surgery again & have been recuperating these past two weeks. My medical bills are through the roof & I don't have insurance. Am trying to get Medicaid but don't know if I can because I am gainfully employed (insurance just hasn't kicked in yet). I've been in the hospital approximately 3 weeks out of the past 6. I told Tommy I was in the hospital with a broken hip & all he said was that when I was healed he would take me someplace wonderful (he didn't know about the second time). No card, no flowers, no calls. Nothing...

But we did talk for quite a while last night—he was sweet & gentle & shocked about my second hip surgery. I told him I was coming out on 2/17 (biz, not a lie, but not quite the truth, either). A job that may or may not be, but more as an excuse to see him...reminded him of his promise to get together when my hip heals & asked if he would be available. "I might be," the fucker replies. What he means, God knows. What I have to do now is nail him down with a solid promise. After all...it's a nearly a month away & he has all the time in the world to consolidate plans that will include me...

My Special Angel's special day...

2006-01-20T21:29:00.000-05:00

Happy birthday, baby... I love you more than you'll ever know...

The house that could be a home...

2006-01-08T12:07:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time perhaps this house was a home, depending on whether one believes Tommy or his son. But I'm sitting here looking at this monster place he now lives in all by himself — can envision us sitting on the stoop, cuddled up with my sheepdogs at our sides. Makes me so sad — can see us coming & going with our groceries, redecorating, gardening, grilling, laughing, loving — can feel the love that could be inside. A house is not a home unless it is filled with love...

It wasn't so long ago when he was tender & gentle, so loving. He never was this way other way — this cynical, mean streak coming into play. Don't know what happened to make him like this — especially after saying what an incredible life we could have had. It's still not too late for that — we have lots of years ahead of us, lots of years to live our dream life. But he has to open his heart again, let the love back in — he's so locked inside himself right now I don't know if he can ever be lured out. You never know what you're missing unless you take a chance. The chance I am willing to make is ask him to marry me — tell him if it doesn't work out we can annull the marriage & I won't ask him for a dime. We were always perfect together. I think we still are, or at least can be, if he'll only take the chance...open himself to the possibility of something wonderful & priceless as its result...

Just another thing that breaks my heart...

Love, & a broken hip, hurt...

2006-01-07T11:08:00.000-05:00

My hip, broken on 11/30 & then set back by a dislocation 2 weeks later, is well on the mend, though there is still much I can't do & have a constant, nagging pain. The pills I'm on make me sleepy all the time & I have no energy whatsoever. I come home from work mid-afternoon, sleep for a couple of hours, then complete my work day from home. Where I used to stay up half the night on the net, I'm now usually sound asleep by 10 or 11. The whole thing sucks big time.

Then there's Tommy, who really hasn't done anything lately other than not return a call we were on. He either hung up or were disconnected (we weren't arguing), but I think he hung up because someone walked in blasting their big mouth & I told her to shut up & go away. So naturally I called him back half a dozen times (he didn't answer) & left God-knows what kind of messages. I must learn to control my temper as I think it's one of the things that's driving him away. However, my heart is broken because I was going to 'call' him on his promise of a weekend together when my hip healed. And since I now have the doc's permission to both travel & have sex, we could have our weekend any time. However, since I have once again behaved very badly, I don't know how willing he will be. Although I want to call him every moment of the day, I'll resist for at least another week — give him time to cool off, or wait until when/if he calls me...if it isn't too long...

It's just not looking very good at the moment, but as one of my commenters to a previous post said, once we're together again he'll remember all the good things & put our tumultuous recent past to rest. It's the getting together that's the tough part, even though it should be the easiest. Please, God, let her be right!!!

Happy fuckin' new year...

2006-01-01T09:39:00.000-05:00

So far it feels just the same as '05. It's damp & dreary & I am so fucking depressed I don't care if I wake up tomorrow or not...

At least my hip doesn't hurt...a blessing of sorts...& I am most thankful because when I went searching for my Percocet every last one was gone — taken by my neighbor who came over for a couple of drinks last night (after my being nice enough to give him 4 to ease the pain of his displaced shoulder). He also left me with 3 out of 20 or so Xanax, which is my life line. To say I'm pissed is a major understatement...

Adios & fare thee well, '05...

2005-12-31T08:54:00.000-05:00

Can't say I'm sorry to see you go. I woke up this morning — thinking about the promises '05 seemed to hold a year ago — only to witness not only my own dreams but thousands of others shattered into a million pieces during these 365 days from heaven & hell.

At the beginning of '04, my boss & I were planning & building a million $ plus internet spin-off based on the retail/wholesale business we were involved in, & were off to a roaring start. That is, until jealousy crept in & I walked into my office on 2/14, only to to told by the COO that my job had been outsourced & to pack it in. An hour later I was at home, my future dashed & terrified of the future. Yesterday I received news that my boss (former president & CEO for 26 years) & who had built the busines into what it is, had been booted as well, two days before Xmas - no notice, no thanks, no nothing — that the woman who'd built their restaurant from a half-baked $100 grand operation to over half a million success, had also been booted recently. Many lifes have been set back by this group of ruthless, heartless, greedy know-it-alls who are going to do nothing but destroy what could have been a wonderful, booming business.

Despite being on un employment, things went along pretty smoothly — at least until Tommy came back into my life. It was all so perfect & I would have bet my last buck we would have been married (or seriously committed) by now, but then Katrina came along & tore everything asunder (not just for us, but for all of those who lost everything). Our relationship has not been the same, the whole dynamic changed. Don't know if it ever will.

Tina died. I lost much with this sorrowful event...

Then breaking my hip, which set everything back even farther. I had to leave my fabulous job in NOLA and am now back where I started. Don't know when I'll be able to come back, don't know if I'll have my job, don't know if I'll have Tommy.

Goodbye, '05. May '06 heal it all & bring back everything '05 took away...

The promised weekend...

2005-12-29T14:08:00.000-05:00

Yes, I broke down & called him even though it's been a long, long time since he has called me on his own. Was shocked he actually answered his cell, but we had a nice long talk — including the promised weekend. It's probably a pile of bull, but he said when my hip is healed we will have that weekend. I'm gauging the end of January/early February before I'm able to do this, but when I tell him I'm ready, he better be ready to make plane & hotel reservations. Pronto. I know I've said this before, but he better not let me down or disappoint me even one more time. His excuses have run out. I want to trust him, but am very leary of doing so — especially because he now only calls infrequently...not because he wants to hear my voice, or because he misses me...where he used to all the time...

A few things I'd like to do...

2005-12-11T04:32:00.000-05:00

with or to you!

Have lurid phone sex
Send unexpected, steamy emails
Reenact our first 'date'
Walk down the street, holding hands
Stay up all night talking & touching, but no sex...
Drown in your eyes over a candlelight dinner on the balcony of our hotel room
Sit on your lap (no panties, of course) in a nightclub & very subtly get it on
Kiss your eyes and nose and ears and neck and...
Suck on your fingers
Grind against each other on a dance floor
Get each other off in the back of a cab
Fuck in an elevator or public restroom
Give you a lap dance you'll never forget
Slowly caress (and/or kiss) every inch of your body
Take a shower, lathering each other all over...
Fuck in an exotic pool (like some of those in Mexico), during the day
When least expecting it, have you rip off my clothes & fuck me stupid
Act out our most erotic fantasies
Fall asleep wrapped around you
Wake up with you in me

Ready, baby?

PS: a quiz I just took: You are all Angelina. Like Angelina, you're a rare breed: a strong, sexual woman who goes after what she wants. While it's great to be so in touch with your own sensuality, remember that it can be intimidating and not always appropriate.

Softening, somewhat...& it's a good thing...

2005-11-16T19:16:00.000-05:00

It's better than nothing at all—he still isn't calling me 'sweetheart' any more & I am no longer telling him I love him every 30 seconds—but his voice is kinder, more gentle...even caring... I'm hearing the pre-hurricanes Tommy—the Tommy who unabashedly adored me...

We've talked for several hours during the past two weeks—he is not upset that I am living in his town of Mandeville. In the meantime, he has agreed that even though his clients are coming back in droves (after Katrina & Rita) & he'll be bouncing back & forth between New Orleans & Houston, we will—indeed—still have weekends. Now it's just nailing him down to one.

God, that's all we need. One weekend. A weekend totally alone—to drink & talk & make love... He is afraid—I know this for a fact, even though he has not actually come out & admitted it. But it's there—I hear it in various comments he makes. I'm afraid too. But love, if it's true, accepts, forgives, and overlooks physical imperfections and emotional defects. I still think he doesn't want to fall in love, doesn't want to lose his freedom, doesn't want his life complicated by (again) having a partner—particularly one who he said has been one of the great loves of his life... He knows we would pick right back up where we left off & his life would change drastically. But it would be richer, by far, because of the very special love we've somehow never lost...

Novena to the Blessed Virgin

2005-11-05T12:11:00.000-05:00

Hail Mary, full of grace
The lord art with thee.
Blessed art though among women and
Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, mother of God,
pray for us sinners now
and at the hour of our death.
Amen

Say this novena 9 times a day for 9 days and your desire will be granted.

JLO/CJY

Shaking in my boots...

2005-11-01T14:22:00.000-05:00

Greetings Jennifer—
Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, November 1:
You never expected to feel this way this soon, but as far as your heart is concerned, it doesn't matter that they're not from your neck of the woods. Keep in mind that people move long-distance all the time.

Oh God, here I sit with an email from him in my box—he never sends email, just calls.

Well, it was not as bad as expected, nor as good. We talked, came to a bit of an understanding, though it was not as much as I need. But at least we're talking in a more realistic manner now. It's just that our realities are so totally different. Only a softening of his resolve, heart, will ever enable us to be on the same page at the same time...

Running with scissors...

2005-10-30T17:35:00.000-05:00

Greetings Jennifer—
Here is your horoscope for Sunday, October 30:
You're due for quite the emotional moment, regardless of who you're with,
where you are, or what your companion says or does. Basically, the universe has posted an astrological Hallmark card that's a real tear-jerker. Open it and enjoy it.

While I can't quite say this day has turned out to be even close to a tear-jerker, it has been pretty disquieting & I am not enjoying it at all...

Tommy & I had a very long talk early this morning—one which continued as he drove over the Causeway, arrived home, showered, and then settled down on the sofa with a beer. We talked the entire time, mostly being nice.

But he's also pissed. Two months after the fact. I mean, I told him in late August that I'd spoken with his son when I was unable to locate him (Tommy) after Katrina. He never asked what we talked about, other than how I explained myself to him (our long-ago affair, during which time the son was born). However, this morning he asked for details...

Well, it wasn't very pretty, to say the least, even though I omitted some of his son's more hurtful remarks. He was furious & vehemently denied allegations of a lifetime of cheating well as that Cherry & he did not have a happy marriage. This was nothing but solid gold bullshit, however, since he himself told me months ago that while they had a 'nice if unfulfilling' marriage, it was nothing like the extraordinary one we would have had, had we been free to marry... He plans on confronting his son about all of it today, as he is in town. God, let it not be too brutal...

This went on & on for almost an hour & a half—broken up by a more light-hearted exchange when I asked him if he wanted to come over & fuck me. He returned by asking me to come over there & fuck him. Too bad this didn't happen last Saturday when I could have dashed right over...

I don't know where we're going from here. He has almost totally gone back inside himself, save for that we still are talkining. I'm writing him a rather direct letter saying, more or less, to shit or get off the pot. I'm praying he'll think it over long & hard—realize all he has in me—& stay...

Nawlins, Wilma & My Special Angel...

2005-10-25T18:13:00.000-04:00

Greetings Jennifer --
Here is your horoscope for Monday, October 24:
Your feet probably won't touch the ground for at least the next 24 hours—but then, why would you want to leave Cloud Nine for anything as mundane as life here with the rest of the mortals?

What a prophetic horoscope this turned out to be!!! Since mother ended up in the hospital & I had to ready her house for the 'cane, I ended up having to drive from Nawlins as my flight to Fort Myers was cancelled. Twelve hours on the road—the last two from hell in tropical storm force winds. Arrived at 3AM, & obviously had a bunch of chores to do before 'retiring' that Mommie Dearest had failed to complete herself... Then all hell broke loose when Wilma hit. Was without power for just over a day, but some folks still don't have it. Lucky! I've had enough of 'canes to last me the rest of my life.

Then there's my angel, Tommy James, who called from Houston yesterday about this time. I'm reeling. Thought he was gone forever...then this, out of left field. But, that's the way he does things I guess. Kind of got to the bottom of why he might be putting me off, & I was the one who brought it up—said I don't care if he's lost his hair or can't get it up—that I'm not that shallow, am far from perfect myself, will always love him no matter... Asked if he hated me (no), if he was mad at me (no), if it bothered him that I love him (no). Don't know if he was saying these things to mollify me or avoid the truth, but the only time he seems to be able to speak from his heart is when he's been drinking...

This is a scary process...

2005-10-18T10:58:00.000-04:00

actually going out to Nawlins, that is, & the possibility of getting this incredible job & moving there. I'm scared to death, especially in the face of everything Tommy & I have been through since Katrina hit & that we are now totally estranged. I'd be living and working right on top of him, for fuck's sake. I dread running into him, yet at the same time am dying to—shrinks call it the 'approach-avoidance' syndrome, I believe. Whatever it's called, I've got it big time...

Sometimes I feel very calm, at others panicked—like right now. I'm filled with anxiety, fear, dread...perhaps because I didn't get much sleep as a friend called late last night & we talked until nearly 1AM. Then I couldn't get to sleep. Feel like I've been through the wringer.

Maybe I'll feel better about everything when I get there—will be too busy to focus on my emotions. Wish I was getting on the plane right now...

Lucia speaks...

2005-10-14T15:12:00.000-04:00

This is the second of my high school friends who has seen & has something to say about 'our photo':

OoooH! What a hunk, and you two look so good together. That picture
really says a lot—the way he is looking at you is definitely "I Love You!" I'll say a little prayer that everything works out, and soon.

Lucia

Goin' to New Orleans...

2005-10-14T09:27:00.000-04:00

but without him. Or, rather, I wouldn't be there with him. Just there. Got a major job interview in Covington, a couple of miles from where he lives, but my relationship is down the tubes. At least for now. He won't take my calls—lets voicemail pick up—& I'm pretty sure he doesn't even listen to them.

I don't know what to do, other than when I'm there just appear on his doorstep with roses. Or follow & casually 'run into' him, whatever his destination might be.

God I am the most amazing fuck-up I've ever met. I had the most wonderful guy in the world, but apparently drove him crazy with all of my hysteria during the hurricanes. If only he had just communicated—if Katrina had gone elsewhere none of this would have ever happened...

Emotional healing...

2005-10-05T13:35:00.000-04:00

Yes, the month from hell is over but so too, apparently, is my relationship. He is not calling me, nor accepting my calls. Guess I pushed him just a little too far on top of everything he went through in September with the hurricanes...never mind pushing him entirely around the bend Friday night. I was needy—needed him, & he needed to deal with getting his life pulled back together. I should have been more sensitive to his needs. But on the other hand, he could have also communicated them to me... Had I understood, I would have backed off & none of this would have happened. I'm not a mind-reader. Thus, we're both to blame, in a way... Pretty damn sad...

He's been terribly angry the last few times we talked. Never raised his voice to me before, ever, save for the time I was out in SoCal with Dennis in early August. After spending an emotionally wrenching weekend, I think I've accepted that I have zero control in this situation—it is all up to him, whether or not he can forgive & forget. He may come back, or he may not...only time will tell. He needs to heal as well. But even if he does forgive, I don't know how things could ever be the same between us again...

Since realizing I no longer have any control whatsoever, my anxiety has abated tremendously—a monumental relief. But I miss him so much—miss just hearing his voice. That I may never see him again is another story altogether—way too painful to even attempt to wrap my brain around, never mind my heart...

How could I have so thoroughly sabotaged this tender, gentle, loving relationship—alienate this man I would have killed for—through my own neediness & not even realize what I was doing?

Hey, I just thought of something. Doesn't someone usually tell their partner when they're breaking it off? Tommy never even mentioned those words...as far as I can remember, anyway...

The month from hell...

2005-09-28T11:12:00.000-04:00

Thank God it's nearly over. I will, from this year forward, erase the month of September from my calendar. These hurricanes have wreaked havoc on all of us—even me, who wasn't anywhere near them.

Tommy rode Rita out in Houston. Got back yesterday. I'm glad I didn't know he'd stayed, or I really would have freaked out. Well, we talked twice—the last time when he was going over to his daughter's for dinner. He put me on hold & then we were disconnected—never called back despite my way too numerous calls. Well, I'd been drinking all day—had dreamed about him all night & just woke up in a bad place. I never expected to hear from him again, & then there's his beautiful voice on the other end of the line, which put me on a crying jag that lasted the rest of the day. Never cried so much in my entire life than I have this month. Or drank so much. I do not want any of this to repeat, ever... Amazing what stress can do to a person...

I can only hope I didn't piss him off so much he won't call back. God only knows what I said to his voicemail, though blessedly I did not leave lengthy messages (gotta love phone logs!).

I also confronted him head-on about there being another woman. There isn't anyone. He isn't involved, or even fucking anyone else. This is a good sign...

All we need is the physical reconnection—that's it. Everything will fall into place from there—have zero doubts. Just hold onto each other. Forever. It'll happen...when we come together physically. I think he's been afraid of that, knows what will happen as a result—completing the circle we began in '78. Making a commitment. Making things permanent. I don't think he's quite ready. It is scary, but something that has been destined to happen ever since we first met...

Now I must await his return call. I've made enough in the past twenty four hours to last an entire week...

Hurricanes & other unnatural disasters...

2005-09-21T12:44:00.000-04:00

I’m so sick of hurricanes I could die—don’t think I can take another, unless it impacts far from me & those I love. First there was Katrina that wreaked havoc on me for destroying my reunion & landing me in my current state of emotional turmoil—without Tommy. Had it not chosen New Orleans as its destination, on the weekend I was supposed to be there, I’m sure we would be solid as a rock right this second, having had nearly four blissful, romantic days.

Now there is Rita—threatening Houston, Tommy's current place of residence—as well as New Orleans, yet once again. And who is also wreaking havoc on me emotionally because we are still at a stalemate. Thus, I can’t help but be worried sick. God only knows where he is, what he’s going to do—how he would receive me were I to reach him (I’m sure he's stressed out enough with all this weather impacting him, never mind having to contend with our problems on top of it). So I again find myself glued to The Weather Channel & Fox News.

It all takes me back to August of '04, & Hurricane Charley, which just happened to occur when I was in Florida visiting Mommie Dearest (like Georges did in '98 when I was down for Dad's funeral). It was the worst weather event I have personally ever borne witness to (although I've gone through a few nasty nor'easters, as well as when a Cat One brushed New York City in October of eighty-five, sending me & my boyfriend on a mad dash out to the yacht club to take his boat to deeper water, & safety). The wind was so strong it almost blew us off our feet—had to hunker over as we walked just to stay upright—but nothing even close to what I would experience nineteen years later, & what Tommy is experiencing right now—not once, but twice, in a period of just four weeks.

Charley’s howling, keening winds—unearthly sounds I have previously heard only in horror movies—are forever embedded in in my memory. They crept in slowly but within no time were up to fifty, then seventy, ninety, one-twenty. I saw a neighbor's sixty foot palm rise straight out of the ground, then tumble over, almost in slow motion. Watched another neighbor's avocado tree sail into my front yard, missing the picture window by mere inches. Heard pool cages snap & buckle, shingles & tiles pelt whatever they blew into. The winds topped out at one-thirty, but most damage was sustained when they shifted from the southeast to the southwest as Charley tore by, its eye a mere seven nautical miles to the west. Everything shook & rumbled, tree roots heaved in an attempt to escape their earthly bondage. And the winds—those horrifying, incessant winds...

Blessedly, Charley was a small & very fast moving storm. Thus, three hours later it was over & the sun came out. But when we stepped outside it looked like a battlefield—everything had been blown to hell & back. Regrouping was a long, tedious process, but the most damage by far was emotional. PTSS hit everyone & lingered well through the holidays. I'm not sure I'm over it yet—every time the wind kicks up I’m reminded of the few hours before Charley hit, which causes the anxiety that now inhabits the core of my being to start churning—the same anxiety I’m experiencing right now, all over again, through Tommy's ordeals...

Good job he didn't let me go to Houston, huh?

Everything is always perfect...in dreams...

2005-09-20T07:44:00.000-04:00

....which is what I did about him all night—dream, that is. Nothing sexual, just lots of love in everything we said & did, so much tenderness in our interactions—didn't want to open my eyes, just wanted lay there forever, in that state between sleep & consciousness, & continue feeling that perfect love surrounding me.

Then I did (open my eyes), & of course realized he wasn't here—how disconnected we are—& can't put my finger on anything specific that could have caused it, save for stress & strain on both of us from Katrina. Now, instead of love, I'm filled with this all-consuming pain. My solution? Two Xanax & two (large) glasses of wine kill most any horrible feeling. God, I'd kill, tho, to hear his voice over the phone saying "Hey Sweetheart, it's me"...

God's will...

2005-09-19T22:17:00.000-04:00

My dear friend Phil made a fairly profound (if not downright amusing) comment today. Said "Tell your guy to quit fucking with you, and he (God) will stop fucking with him (Tommy). Meaning, Tommy experienced Katrina in Nawlins & now, ironically, just four weeks later, will face a visit from Rita in Houston Saturday...that will probably also (unfortunately) affect New Orleans again, as well...

Hmmmmm...food for thought...

Do I, or do I not?...

2005-09-19T10:03:00.000-04:00

Dear Jennifer—
Here is your horoscope for Monday, September 19:
Part of you wants to walk away and save yourself, while the other part is convinced that you could turn this situation around if you had enough time. Just as you're about to decide, the other party will end up seeing things from your point of view.

I've been thinking about calling Tommy & trying to straighten things out—explain why I reacted like I did to his Thursday phone call—how, firstly, I was devastated by the hurricane, my aborted move & how his word 'inconvenience' cut me to the quick—that I'm not trying to pressure him, just help, only suggested a short trip to relax & de-stress that would benefit us both, that we could be a source of comfort to one another—that we've had such a warm, close, caring communication going & how, since the hurricane disrupted our lives, our talks have been angry—that the sooner we get together we'll know in 5 minutes which direction our relationship is headed, friends or lovers—that I miss our beautiful talks & value our connection, & could we, maybe, just start over?

I guess, at this point, what will be will be...

Too little, too late...

2005-09-15T09:45:00.000-04:00

I should have been at the airport, waiting to go to NO, at this exact time. We would have been together in a few short hours. But Katrina really blew out all of my dreams & hopes. He is already in Houston—a little too late for the little badly-needed vacation I was going to suggest beforehand. I asked if he'd like a visitor but he said it would be too inconvenient, what with him going to be doing alot of traveling on business, trying to get all his ducks in a row, etc. & that it will be at least 3-6 months before he's able to resume life in Nawlins. I asked him flat out if he wants me to come out at all. He said yes, but down the road. Down the road we could both be dead, too, for chrissake...

Now, I would think it wouldn't be TOO inconvenient to have a visitor, say, over a weekend. What the hell involves a weekend?!? I think I'm going to call back later, say relationships are two-way streets, even if one's life has been turned upside down, & you have to make time for each other, even if it does involve inconvenience... I've been inconvenienced many times, but have always made time. I know I shouldn't push him. But I cannot go on with my plans until I have concrete answers to very difficult questions it might be difficult for him to answer. A commitment on a date to get together would be awfully nice...

Nawlins is 'decimated' so...

2005-09-13T11:13:00.000-04:00

Tommy's going to Houston to work at their corporate headquarters, but not immediately—still has lots & lots to do around the house, which thankfully was spared damage (perhaps, in part, to the half an kazillion 'Hail Marys' I said, on bended knees), save for lots of downed trees on the property. Said downtown NO is decimated & that it will be a long, long time before anyone goes to work there again. Thus, Houston...

Next time we talk (hopefully today—he said it's very hard to get through, which I know for a fact because I keep getting an 'all circuits are busy' recording most times I try to call there), I'm going to suggest we go somewhere low-key & just hang out before he goes—to relax & de-stress. Heal. We've both been through hell in the past couple of weeks for similar but different reasons, but hell nonetheless. I'm going to tell him flat out that the only thing I want is to just be together, that we really need to see each other. Frankly, (although my visions of our first reunion involved non-stop sex) I'd be happy just to lie in bed & hold each other. A non-stop, whole-body hug, so to speak. I think we both need that—it's good for the soul.

Yet, he is still incredibly hung up on age. In one of our first conversations he said 'Sweetheart, I'm 60 years old! 60!' I said 'Well, I ain't all that far behind you, big guy—nobody here is 23 anymore.' He seems to think I won't find him attractive because he's not what he was when we first met. Hello! Who is! Yeah, I still look real good, but I'm not the kid he remembers. I've told him numerous times it was the person, not the pro football player or drop dead gorgeous guy, I fell in love with. We had that whole 'soulmate' connection thing going on from the moment our eyes met—left together after we'd been acquainted for about 1 whole hour & were rarely apart after, until he had to go. Being together was so easy—never an awkward 'what should I do, what will he/she think' moment. And that connection still seems to be there, even after all these years—at least on an emotional plane. I believe in soulmates...

I woke up in love this morning...

2005-09-09T23:37:00.000-04:00

But everything went to hell after that. Let me back up, to the wee small hours, first...

I told Tommy I wouldn’t bother him, but I was sitting in bed glued to Fox News & feeling so much love for him & pain for the horror they’re experiencing I had to call, knowing he’d be asleep & I’d get his voicemail. Said "Hey Tommy James, it’s me, Jeannie Jennifer" (pet nicknames we've recently given each other). "I know I said I wouldn’t bug you, which is why I’m calling so late & talking to your voicemail. Hope you’re good, not too beat up, & that everything’s coming together at the house. But, in the immortal words of my then-five-year-old brother-in-law, 'I want wif you!' Just want you to know I’m thinking of you. A lot. Be safe, & call when you get a chance. Love you bye." Short, sweet, heartfelt…

Even though I didn’t sleep very long, I woke up with a smile on my face & that tingly feeling you get when you’re sleeping next to someone you love—as well as feeling I’d also been seriously made love to. I rolled over to put my arm around him, but he wasn’t there. Huh? What happened to me between two forty-five & seven fifteen? Where did I go? Did I astral project over to Louisiana, crawl into bed with him as he lay sleeping, & make love to him? (Note I did not say 'fuck' this time—fucking is a sexual act, driven by nothing more than animal magnetism, whereas making love is when two souls long to be one and join together—with a vast amount of love & passion & tenderness—& thrust as far into each other’s centers as they can possibly get—in order to touch each other’s soul...) I have never just fucked Tommy...

I truly believed—after the incredibly loving message I left on his voicemail early this morning—that he would have called back. Immediately. If only long enough to say ‘Thanks, sweetheart, that was beautiful.’ Had I been on the receiving end of such a message, I would have called the moment I got it. But it appears I am on the giving—not receiving—end with him yet once again. It is now almost midnight, & my phone has not made one single peep all day…

Maybe my service isn’t working?!?

Worse, maybe something is terribly wrong over there. But I can’t even think about that possibility...refuse to go there at all…

It’s my ex-husband’s birthday today. Don’t know what caused that to pop into my mind—except, perhaps, because I used his youngest brother’s long-ago words to me in my message to Tommy this morning—'I want wif you...' Anyway— happy birthday, Patrick...

Drama queen extraordinare...

2005-09-06T20:28:00.000-04:00

Well, it is not over with us. Not even close. I tend to overreact alot—read into things, over-analyze. Tommy called my cell as I was driving home from work today—got back to Nawlins Sunday & has spent the past three days with a chain saw, cutting up all the trees that fell around his property. I'd kill to be able to hold him...have never been so glad—or relieved—to hear anyone's voice in my entire life...Back at home, I replayed the last three sentences of our conversation over and over in my head. Our words and inflections are so intimate, loving – like we’ve been together forever – though in fact we’ve been together only five scant months in our entire lives, including these two recent ones. Believers say soulmates come together like they’ve never been apart, even if they’ve never met before – recognize each other immediately. That’s what happened with us the first time. And, so it seems, now, once again. So vulnerable, we are. So connected. So disconnected…

It's a nightmare down there, worse than any of us can even imagine—he said you must carry a gun with you wherever you go to protect yourself from looters. Can't even fathom the horror of it all...

A friend of a friend has a plane, & is flying in with equipment & supplies one of these days—said maybe I could hitch a ride. Providing I just wouldn't be under Tommy's feet, I'll go in a heartbeat...

Hurricane Katrina, & a catharsis...

2005-09-03T10:13:00.000-04:00

Nawlins is trashed; I am not going. Tommy finally called on Wednesday, is in Houston & may be relocating there temporarily as his company headquarters is located there. I found someone living three blocks from him (who had ridden Katrina out) to walk over & take a look—no flooding, no trees on his house. Said he might even go visit his son for a couple of weeks since he'll have so much time on his hands. Hello! What about me?!?

I, however, am not in very good shape. Got through to him yesterday by cell, & he was golfing!!! Here I am, far away & hysterical, & he's golfing!!! Said he'd call back, but it is now 24 hours later & the phone has not made so much as a peep, save for friends worried about me!

Because I was frantic to find him, I called his son—who never even knew of my existence because Tommy was married & Jr. had just been born when Tommy & I were together. He received me well, talked for over an hour, & now we both (son & me) know everything—all the dirty laundry came out—alot of it does not paint a very pretty picture...

If Tommy does not make a drastic turn-around in his behavior regarding me, I am going to end it. The pain is excruciating. I'm a good person who deserves more consideration—not to mention attention. Since actions speak louder than words, it's looking like a real one-way street at this point, & I sure don't need that... Breaks my fucking heart...

Katrina sets her sights on Nawlins...

2005-08-28T09:30:00.000-04:00

SW Floridians dodged the bullet—a then Cat1 Katrina took a left hand turn & hit the Keys, rather than where it was supposed to go: straight across to my mother's part of the world. Still, the area got torrential downpours as Katrina passed to the west, 250 miles offshore...

And now I am terrified for Tommy, & Nawlins. He told me, not so long ago, that if they take a direct hit the whole city will be under 30 feet of water. His home is a very short distance from Lake Pontchartrain. We haven't spoken since Friday night—wish he would call & let me know what he's going to do, where he'll go, but know he's too busy to even think about calling...

Pray, people, pray! This is a Cat5...the big one...

Done deal...

2005-08-27T15:59:00.000-04:00

My trip to Nawlins, that is. I have my plane & shuttle reservations, as well as reservations in a romantic boutique hotel. Our first encounter, many years ago, was in the lounge of the hotel Tommy was staying at during pre-season training camp, so this time around I am recreating that same magic—meeting in the dimly lit lounge of our hotel—5:30PM on the 15th...now only a mere 19 days away...& probably 15 more trips to the gym.

What will happen is anyone's guess, though I suspect we will have a few martinis to loosen up, fall into each other's arms, & head upstairs. Fuck & talk all night. Once we consumate our new liaison, get the sexual tension out of the way, we'll have a whole new comfort level. We have so much to catch up on, even though we've spent dozens of hours on the phone in the past 7-1/2 weeks. I pray he'll still love me like he used to...because if he asked me to marry him, I'd do so in less than a heartbeat. Last night we even discussed a golf trip to Vermont—he's never been there, & some of its courses are amongst the most thrilling & challenging I've ever played.

I'm beyond terrified—this is such a huge, expensive gamble—but one I must absolutely take.

Blessings...another love letter to Tommy...

2005-08-22T14:41:00.000-04:00

Dear Jennifer—
Here is your horoscope for Sunday, August 21:
If you've hit an impasse, don't assume that things are over. Sometimes when things seem like a dead end, there's only one direction to move—and that's up. Your luck is about to turn.

Just want to say how much I've missed our phone calls recently—I love talking with you, love just hearing your voice!

Before I come visit, I want to clarify the things I said about love (& stuff) that seem to have made you so uneasy. Love comes in many forms, as you know. I didn't say I was in love with you but, rather, that I love you. Big difference. One can't be in love with someone they haven't seen in half a lifetime, but can still love them. I don't think we would be in contact, or have said all of the things we've both said, or that you would have put up with any (never mind all) of my recent bullshit if we didn't love each other, or never had...

You seem somehow convinced I won't like you any more, & are probably also afraid you won't like me, as well. For my part, anyway, it was the person I fell in love with so long ago: not the pro football player, or the drop-dead-gorgeous guy, or the mind-blowing sex we had. It was that thing—described by some as a soul encounter—that brought us together like a bolt of lightning and kept us in each other's hearts throughout the years. You're still the same person—just older. But, so am I...

The last memory I have of you is walking away from me, for what I thought was forever...don't think I've ever cried so hard, and for so long, except recently. And however things turn out for us, I hope we will always be able to remain close. Please know you can count on me to be there for you, no matter what. I always have been...just wasn't able to be because of our circumstances. You've always had a special place in my heart, even though you were not always a conscious thought.

Please forgive me if I cry when we meet. They will be tears of joy—& relief—just to be able to look into your eyes again.

Phil pixels in...

2005-08-20T11:01:00.000-04:00

I was designing a new ad campaign yesterday, something that required measurement in inches. "I don't understand inches!" I moaned. "Just pixels!" Phil, my biz partner right now, looked at me quizically.

Later, I was telling him how Tommy has only gained 10 lbs. since he quit playing pro football (a long time ago). Phil said "Hell, I gained 40 just from getting old!" I reminded him that he is somewhat younger than Tommy. He told me to 'eat it.' Then I remarked how my first husband—a college football player who was supposed to play in the pros on the same team as Tommy but bailed—put on 35 lbs. in 6 mos. after he stopped playing, how gross it was. Phil laughed & asked if I'd done the whole team. So I told him to 'eat it.'

He counters with "Who has more pixels?" (Get it? Inches vs. pixels?) I zinged him with a rubber band & we howled with laughter every time we glanced at each other the rest of the day..

Nawlins bound...

2005-08-15T18:31:00.000-04:00

Tommy & I talked for almost an hour today—a nice talk, nothing intimate or serious. He is being very cautious now (& I can't say that I blame him)....

But, I am heading over there next month. May just stay one night, maybe three, maybe forever. All depends, he said. Kind of makes it tough to make travel arrangements, so suppose I'll end up having to pay an airline penalty as well as for extra hotel nights. But I might not, either. It's all up to him at this point &, after my bad behavior, I'll have only a short time to prove myself—whether or not he wants me to extend my stay.

Whatever the case may be, I'm scared shitless. I'll either come back walking on clouds or holding together the pieces of a broken heart...so I'm going to go into best behavior mode—gym every day to buff up, no booze & crazy late night calls or emails; no tears, no demands... Our future depends on it.

A deafening silence...

2005-08-10T10:20:00.000-04:00

Dear Jennifer—
Here is your horoscope for Wednesday, August 10:
Too bad you can't just read the instructions and figure out how to repair this malfunctioning relationship. Fortunately, the stars have given you both a lifetime warranty. Give it time, and it'll fix itself.

Oh God, this just might be the most consequential fuck-up of my entire life! On his end, silence. Still. A deafening silence... All I can do now is pray for forgiveness...& wait...

The last time I fucked up this completely was two years before I met Tommy. Don't even remember what I did—except it must have been completely wretched—because my then-boyfriend looked at me so dead seriously & said 'I can't believe I was actually going to drop out of school & marry you...'

Kind of like when Tommy (recently) said 'had it not been for circumstances that existed back then, I have no doubt you & I would have had an exceptional life together...' Then Fate gives us another chance to grab the brass ring—but I go & get all crazy emotional & might have blown it... To say I'm devastated is a major understatement...

Epiphany: origins of a soap opera revealed...

2005-08-07T06:48:00.000-04:00

I watch too many chick flicks. That's it, plain & simple.

Tommy & I have not been on the same page, here. Since reuniting, I have clearly been living in a movie: star-crossed lovers reunite, fall madly in love again & live happily ever after. He has said some pretty heavy stuff, though, which propelled my expectations right up there to the Notting Hill / Sleepless in Seattle realm. These heady, romantic musings happen in our late-night conversations when he most likely has been drinking beforehand & is loose enough to be swept away by feelings carried over from our previous relationship, too. I chose to take his words as gospel.

But, unlike me, in the light of day he apparently comes back down to earth. In reality, he wants to get together & see if the sparks still fly, take it from there. This is what he said—in part—Thursday morning, after our emotional discussion the night before. I cried all day. After having a couple of days to digest this take on reality I'd been so blind to, I now feel like a perfect asshole for pushing him so hard, so fast, toward a fairy tale ending. After my recent inexcusable behavior, I'll be lucky if I haven't pushed him away forever—& if I have, have no one to blame but myself...

Fuck buddies, booze & cells do not mix...

2005-08-06T08:29:00.000-04:00

I ran off to Hell-Ay—a totally last minute decision. Called D, long-time lover turned dear friend who was thankfully in town, & he told me to come out & chill. My decision was driven by the fact that I've been upset lately & needed a little diversion—as well as comfort in the arms of a friend.

And Tommy got just a little bent out of shape when I told him who I was with. I hadn't planned to, but D & I'd had just a bit too much to drink by the time Tommy & I talked, &—you know the old adage 'loose lips sink ships?'—well, out it came. "Did you fuck him?" he snapped. God he was angry, so of course I said 'no.' Then he 'disappeared' & I spent many ensuing minutes ranting to his voicemail because I thought he'd hung up on me in the middle of the intense conversation we were having. I am someone who should not be allowed within three miles of a phone when trashed &/or emotionally unglued...

He called back several hours later. Actually, we dialed each other at the exact same moment. His call cancelled mine out, so I listened to what he had to say before calling back. He said his cell had died—that he hadn't hung up or fallen asleep on me. He didn't sound angry, so I figured everything was okay & phoned back. But then he said alot of really hurtful things, including denying he'd demanded to know whether or not I'd fucked D, that he didn't care... I bawled my eyes out, & D just held me. That's what friends are for...

Providing Tommy ever even speaks to me again after my very bad behavior, this saga will continue.

Unconditional love...

2005-08-05T11:24:00.000-04:00

We talked about unconditional love once, Tommy & me. He said we can't begin to know what it's all about until we have kids. I don't have kids, but I do have dogs, and they love unconditionally as well.

I've had a great deal of time to think about the concept of unconditional love and, even though I do not have kids, have been fortunate enough to experience it—actually quite a bit of it—& think he is wrong, at least in part. Unconditional love—to me, anyway— is the non-judgmental acceptance of another's myriad faults and sins, being there for them when they need you, no questions asked.

Following a many hour battle with tears, I had a startling revelation at 4:30 this morning. I absolutely had the unconditional love of my second husband. And with alot of friends, including D (with whom I have been staying in Hell-ay for the past 5 days & whose possible behavior with me was the subject of Tommy's very angry line of questioning which, a few hours later, he vehemently denied doing). People who are always there for me, have been for lots of years. I also think I have it with him. Why else would he still be around after I behaved so very badly Wednesday night? I'll know soon enough, when (& if) he ever calls again. His continued presence in my life (or not) will be my answer, pretty much written in stone...

Soul-searching is very scary...

2005-07-30T08:08:00.000-04:00

A night of (near) sleeplessness has produced the following conclusions:

Men have always been intimidated by my looks, intelligence, & brashness.
I push lovers to the limit.
I don't think of consequences before hitting the 'send' button.
I love too quick, too hard, too much.
I'm too much about instant gratification.
I somehow manage to fuck up things otherwise written in stone because...
I'm afraid of love?
I'm way too 'up front.'
I'm scheming & manipulative.
I drink too much. Always have.
I've been alternately anorexic/bullemic since high school.
I've scooted through life on my looks & am terrified of aging.
At this point, my looks are all 'smoke & mirrors.'
I am, obviously, hating myself pretty much right now—
But I am a good person & the best friend anyone could ever hope to have.

Mark, Tina & me?!?...

2005-07-28T20:11:00.000-04:00

As I've said in other posts, Tina was one of my best friends—someone from whom deepest secrets were never hidden. In the scheme of things, Mark & Tina had an amazing relationship—they were as attracted to each other in her last year of life as they were when they met 38 years ago. They had sex every night. Who else do you know who does?!? Boy I envied them that!

Now, not quite four weeks after Tina's death, I am talking to Mark on the phone—he is telling me about their (sexual) relationship, how much he misses her. I'm trying to console him & tell him everything will be okay, that it's perfectly normal to feel what he's feeling & that, someday, he might be ready to love someone else.

Out of left field it comes—"I'll never marry anyone else, but will you be my girlfriend?" he asks. I am completely, totally, utterly freaked out...

Every time I talk to this man...

2005-07-26T21:15:00.000-04:00

I fall more & more in love with him. I now realize that—despite my own (somewhat) desperate yearnings—I have to let him regain the level of trust and comfort we had, way back when, in his own good time. I am the first to admit I have little to no patience—have always been about instant gratification—but in this case patience is an absolute must. If I were him—the recipient of my (maybe one too many) late night, insecurity-fueled voicemail messages—I'd have been outta there in a New York minute. But he's hanging in there with me—understanding, forgiving, patient and, seemingly, loving. I should never doubt him again...but I do. Doubt. My friend Jeff said if he were Tommy, & really feels the way he's said he does, he would have been on a plane immediately. But Tommy hasn't...& even though I want to believe him—more than anything in the world—I have yet to see proof. Actions do speak louder than words... Is he breaking my heart all over again?

Molly rates our 'thing' a definite Top 10...

2005-07-22T20:48:00.000-04:00

I sent an email to Molly, a friend from high school with whom I'm putting together a class bash, saying that 'depending on things' I may—or may not—be joining them. This is her response:

"Jen, that's just the like most romantic story I've ever heard!!!! He has a gorgeous face and had (hopefully still does but I know how that goes, so to speak) a nice head of curly hair! Seems he loved you alot—just by the by the way he's touching you, looking at you. Damn, lucky girl you are to have that kind of caring come around again! Good for you! I hope you both come to the bash in September because I'd love to meet the man involved in what just might be one of the greatest love stories of all time! Luv ya, Mols"

My mother said she always thought Patrick (ex-husband) was the love of my life. I'd thought so too, actually—until the night he called & told me he'd remarried. With all the years we'd hung in there—through tragedy, betrayal, infidelity & divorce—it seemed no matter where life took us we'd still end up together because of this crazy, unconditional love we shared. But life is full of twists & turns that prove Fate has everything mapped out way beforehand— that we're all just pawns on the board of life, waiting to be played...

The "L" word...almost...

2005-07-21T04:12:00.000-04:00

We brought it all out in the open last night, Tommy & me—heart & soul, no holds barred. It's difficult to encapsulate here, but the essence is thus: while he did love his wife, it was never anything compared to what we'd had—that he had no doubt we'd have had an extraordinary life together & how unfortunate we'd been, finding each other when it was already way too late, that I've been the great love of his life... So I've been bawling my eyes out ever since we hung up, a little after 1AM, but they are tears of happiness, joy & relief...can hardly believe, after all these years, we might finally be able to be together in the way we were denied the first time around.

We're meeting in Vegas as soon as we can make arrangements. My friend Leanna said we'll be lucky if we make it out of our room in the four days we'll be there. My business partner is betting on another scenario. Me? Whatever will be, will be...

God, poor Cherry is probably rolling over in her grave—I may very well end up with her husband after all—& this time around, there's nothing she can do to stop it except, perhaps, haunt us for the rest of our lives ;] So I had a little talk with Tina & asked her to keep Cherry in check. Just as she took care of things in life, I know I can trust her in death, as well ;]

At long last laughter...& a wierd voicemail...

2005-07-17T22:16:00.000-04:00

I had dinner at Tina's last night—Mark & Roxi barbequed some chicken & we had a few great laughs—the first when Roxi asked if I'd seen Mom yet.

I looked at her, somewhat perplexed, & she pointed to a black canvas bag on the floor. She went on to explain that Mom is 'residing' in a bag, inside a box, inside the black canvas bag, until the urn they ordered arrives. "You're keeping her under a table?!?" I say, horrified. Mark looks down at the floor, kind of guilty, & explains he put her there while vacuuming. "Well you could at least have put her in a more respectable place!" I said, trying to stifle a giggle. So he picks up the bag & places it on the sofa. "Okay, dear," he said to the bag, "come sit here, you'll be much more comfortable!"

Of course we all cracked up—the kind of thing where you laugh so hard tears roll down your face & you can't catch your breath—& I said "God is she ever gonna come back & get us all for this one!"

It was such a relief to share laughter—definitely the first we've had since Tina passed & probably the first since she got sick, back in September. I love these guys—they're like family. Rox even said she looks upon me as a big sister, which amuses (& pleases) me no end since I'm her mother's age!

When I got home I discovered a couple of messages on my cell (Tina's house is out of range, so I wasn't aware of them until much later). One was from Tommy—a very strange message. "This is Tom," he said. "It's approximately 6:15 & I was calling..." Then...nothing! I called back & got his voicemail but he has not yet returned my call. What's going on here???

Midnight confessions & another sign?...

2005-07-12T01:12:00.000-04:00

Greetings Jennifer—
Here is your horoscope for Tuesday, July 12:
Still completely and totally focused on one particular person? Good—because there's absolutely no doubt that the feeling is extremely mutual. Now's the time to make the rest of the world go away.

Even though I know horoscopes are largely generic crap, this one is so right on target that I want to believe it more than anything on earth!!! But the only thing that will truly convince me the events of the past 6 days haven't been just a product of my imagination is coming together face-to-face—not even Tommy's midnight phone confession that I've been the great love of his life & that, had circumstances been different, we would have had an extraordinary life is enough. Since proof lies in action rather than words, I will not have the answer I need until we are once again in each other's arms...

Did you forget to remember?...

2005-07-10T17:21:00.000-04:00

“Did you forget?” my mother asked when I called to tell her about Tommy & & me & our plans to get together. “Forget what?” “Remember when Daddy, your grandparents & I came to visit?” “Yeah, so?” “Well, Tom was supposed to meet all of us for dinner—but he never showed up or called…” I pondered this information (which I had forgotten!), then waves of pain & disappointment—similar to what I must have been feeling back then—washed over me. His action, intentional or not, had disappointed & hurt me deeply. I wonder if I can trust him with my heart this second time around...or if I'm just setting myself up for another fall...

Do we subconsciously keep setting ourselves up for disappointment, or is history simply destined to repeat? At this juncture in our newly-established relationship, the verdict is still out…

A love letter to Tommy...

2005-07-09T09:41:00.000-04:00

Despite the passage of lots of years, there was an incredibly easy familiarity & intimacy to our conversation that definitely blew my mind...seemed as though we’d talked only yesterday! I got to know you better in several hours of phone conversation than I ever did in the time we were together! I didn't know you had three sisters, or that your father left when you were five, didn't know you hated football—that it was just a means to an end—or ever imagine that you would remember so much about our relationship. And one thing I never knew at all is how sensitive you are. To me you were a God—perfect & strong & infallible—& I was just the girl who was in love with him.

I’m sure you're scared (I sure am!)—doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Your wife died just a little over a year ago, & you may not be exactly ready to embark on a new life, even though your gut reaction was telling you—if only for the few hours we talked—to go for it.

You talked about how amazing it is that we've come full circle. But we haven't—not yet, anyway. There's 90 degrees yet to travel, & I think we owe it to ourselves to complete the journey, see what Fate has in store for us. I don't believe mere coincidence led me to search for you now as opposed to five or ten years ago, or that—once I started looking—you became so very easy to find.

I have no agenda or expectations, Tommy—whatever will be, will be: we might fall into bed (again), might fall in love (again), or maybe just end up being wonderful friends. However we do end up, though, I won't be disappointed (unless you totally disappear on me, that is). I'm just happy to have you back in my life, regardless of what your role in it might be, & don't want to lose you again...

Manic highs, desperate lows...

2005-07-08T02:17:00.000-04:00

This has been the week from both heaven & hell...

My beloved friend Tina died on the 2nd. Then Tommy—absent for much longer than he was present—came back into my life on the 6th with a bang that far eclipsed the best of the 4th of July fireworks. The 7th would have been Marcia's birthday (see my 7/3 & 6/24 posts). Ironically, it is also the very same the day on which I sat writing an obituary & memorial card for Tina, because her Mark couldn't deal with it. And, then, Tina's wake is on the 9th—the same day that claimed the life of my ex-brother-in-law, Michael, at age 23, who left behind an 8 month old son & grieving widow. Too much coincidence. Creeps me out. While I dreaded early July before, I will now assidiously avoid it...

We humans are a resilient lot. Yet, in many ways, we are so very fragile—like little birds with broken wings. We usually don't go outside ourselves for comfort, instead carrying our lonely pain deep inside. We are the walking wounded: death, betrayal, misfortune, & events out of our control are but a few of the things that contribute to the creation of our wounds—often so deeply embedded in our psyches that they prevent us from participating in life. Afraid to let anyone in, we hide behind emotional fortresses so strong they are impossible for anyone—save a God or Goddess—to penetrate. Thus, we end up just going through the motions of living, observing life through the windows of our self-imposed prisons, unable (or unwilling) to break through the glass of fear to get to the other side.

You are my special angel...

2005-07-06T04:28:00.000-04:00

sent from up above!
The Lord smiled down on me, & sent an angel to love.
You are my special angel, right from paradise!
I know that you're an angel, Heaven is in your eyes.
The smile from your lips brings the summer sunshine,
the tears from your eyes bring the rain.
I feel your touch, your warm embrace, & I'm in heaven again!
You are my special angel, through eternity.
I'll have my special angel
here to watch over me, here to watch over me...

My post from last week—about ex-love Tommy—the one I sent a package to after a million year separation? Well, there I was, sound asleep, when my cell went off a little after 1AM. I somehow managed to grab & answer it without disconnecting the caller—which, from a dead sleep, is an amazing feat in & of itself. Now I'm not the most pleasant person when awakened suddenly, but then I hear this gorgeous deep voice saying "Maybe I should call you back at a better time?" I'm like, "Who (the hell) is this?" (grumble grumble, growl growl). "It's Tom," he replied softly.

I'm immediately wide awake. "O...my...god!!!" For a moment I couldn't breathe. "Omygod yourself," he chuckled, play-mocking me. "Now you know how I felt when I got your package this afternoon! Guess we've somehow just managed to blow each other's minds all over again!"

Nearly two hours of non-stop talk later, we (he) decides to *call it a night.* But sleep evades me. How the hell can I possibly sleep when my heart is pounding & adrenalin pumping like I've just run a marathon?!? If it weren't 3AM I'd fly out the door & go dancing or something, but nothing's open now. And dammit, I don't even have any vodka to make a martini! So I'm left to sit here, wide awake & wanting—needing!—to jump up & down & scream, but if I did I'd wake the entire neighborhood, which would not be a good thing ;]

So we're going to talk again (soon!!!) & get together (also soon, & his suggestion, but of course I readily accepted). So now the ballsey chick who last Thursday blithely sent off a gift—meant to be given many years ago to this guy she loved in that other lifetime—is now beyond terrified because her comfortable little fantasy might become reality... He's in New Orleans & I'm here—across the Gulf from one another—so we're both going to have to put some effort into making it happen. What if it doesn't work out?

Fuck that! Even scarier: what if it does?!? (To be continued...)

I'll be seeing you...

2005-07-03T18:53:00.000-04:00

True friends don't come along every day—that person who unconditionally accepts your myriad sins & faults, is there in the blackest of times offering love & support—the one with whom you can share you deepest secrets, dreams & fears without judgment or recrimination. I lost one such friend when she was just 25 years old, and another last night at 9:45—victim of the same insidious killer. Both fought courageously. Both lost.

Even when it became obvious that Tina's opponent was prevailing, no one was prepared for the outcome. I don't think we're ever really ready, no matter the amount of time one does or doesn't have to get used to the idea of a loved one leaving them, because it isn't the way it's supposed to end. For me, at least, that this beautiful, vibrant, very alive 49 year old woman who had so much to give, so much left to do, would actually die was incomprehensible. Hers was always the voice of calm in the midst of chaos; she was the bedrock of her family, as well as for those blessed with her friendship. Our divergent backgrounds should not have lent themselves to bonding, yet not one secret was kept from the other. Our friendship was unconditional.

Thus, I won't say 'goodbye'—rather, 'I'll be seeing you, girlfriend'...

He had me from 'hello'...

2005-06-26T21:47:00.000-04:00

It was over from the start,
you completely stole my heart.
And now you won't let go—
I never even had a chance, you know!
You had me from hello...

Here I go again, channeling song lyrics instead of coming up with my own, original ones...this one being *courtesy* of Kenny Chesney. But what the hey! Whatever works! And no, this Tommy isn't one of the *bad actors* I wrote about in my 5/30 blog—he's actually one of the good guys!

Our encounter was one of those things that sometimes just happens. Call it Fate, if you will. He was a top draft pick—"#2 in the draft but #1 in your heart," he'd chuckle—a hunky, 6'3" rookie linebacker out of Mississippi who I met when my friend Robin dragged me along for a night out with some pro football players—one who she knew through her ex-boyfriend but didn't want to be alone with. I went along—mostly to keep her company—&, possibly, have a somewhat entertaining evening in the process. But unexpected things do happen, & this night was no exception: from the moment Tommy & I laid eyes on each other we were gonners, & seldom apart in the two months that followed.

It was so natural—everything about it was just so right—that it seemed we'd been together forever. I did go back to his hotel room, but we did not engage in that furtive, first-time-sex stuff where you just ravage one another. Our love-making was sensual, tender. But then & again, everything about our relationship always was tender...

There was just one little glitch, though. He was married. Recently married. Up front with me from the git-go, he said he'd gotten a girl from college pregnant & *done the right thing*—no chance of a *happily ever after* or, for that matter, much time for us at all… Thus, we crammed half a lifetime into eight increasingly bittersweet weeks before Cherry arrived in town with their 6-week-old son in tow. I'm not sure we ever did utter the word goodbye...just clung to each other & cried—tough stuff for a couple of kids...

I thought about him periodically over the years, mostly wondering if he ended up staying with Cherry or not. Then, 5 or 6 weeks ago, I Googled both of them (see my 5/18 post, below), oddly getting far more results for her, which I thought was weird since he’d been a pro football player. Long story short, my search produced a bit of a shocker—an article in a professional journal memoralizing Cherry, who had passed away a year & a just few days ago. And he had stayed with her after all (which proves, to me at least, that even though we'd had an affair he was & is a man of deep conviction).

A few weeks later, when going through some old boxes, I found the pewter beer mug I'd had engraved with his nickname, the team name & year, & a line from *our song* which I'd planned on giving him before he left, but never had the opportunity to do so. I also ran across some photos that I don't think I'd really ever looked at before—one in particular was so compelling I knew I had to contact him. Here were two people who clearly adored each other, yet at the same time consumed by a pervasive sadness & longing we could never have possibly understood at our then-young ages. Even distanced by many years, the emotions I saw on our faces welled back up in me as strongly as if it had been only yesterday. These discoveries were a sign—I don't believe mere coincidence led me to search for Tommy now as opposed to five or ten years ago, or that, once I started looking, he became so very easy to find...

I could have called, because his address & number were both right there on switchboard.com, but thought it would be too great of a shock. I also doubt I could have conjured up the nerve to dial the number, listen to his phone ring, hear him say *hello,* & then say something really lame. So I decided it was in everyone's best interest to just send the mug, copies of the photos, & a friendly note with my condolences over Cherry's untimely death.

I entertained this little fantasy about hearing back from him, wanting to see me, for a couple of days. But I've already let it go because there’s no way in hell he’s going to call in the first place, never mind want to see me. I just hope the contents of the package will bring a smile to his face &, maybe, some happy rememberances… Stay tuned!

I love you, Tina...

2005-06-24T22:23:00.000-04:00

I lost my best ever friend, Marcia, to cancer one cold January day. Diagnosed the previous April, she went through surgery, chemo & radiation. Declared cancer-free at her three-month check-up, we celebrated by heading to Disney World. But in September the pain returned. Another surgery & round of chemo left her unable to eat, & I watched helplessly as she wasted away before my eyes. The last time I saw her—two days before she died—her spirits were still spunky despite staring Death straight in the eye. I, however, was a different story. Unable to reconcile someone so young dying, I refused to believe she wouldn't pull through—she was my best friend, & we were always supposed to be there for each other. I viewed her death—nine months after diagnosis—as nothing short of desertion.

Now, years later, my dear friend Tina is dying. She is back in the hospital after her kidneys shut down & the cancer was found to have spread. Where three months ago she was declared to be in remission, the insidious intruder has now invaded her stomach, lungs, liver & brain. They can't operate or offer chemo or radiation. Our friend Leanna said she also has had pneumonia—a sign, she told me, that Tina's body is beginning to shut down.

Back in October—after her cancer, Stage IV ovarian, was first discovered—it never crossed anyone's mind that she might not make it. Strong, willful, full-of-life Tina would never allow it. She rebounded after surgery looking slender, radiant & in the best of spirits—a joy & relief because we hadn't seen her smile in many months. In hindsight, however, her lack of smile & dry humor was due to the pain she was in, though she never let on. Tina's someone who doesn't complain until she can't tolerate something even a second longer.

She went through chemo. In March, when it was over, she had a full-body cat scan & was declared cancer-free. We planned a big party to celebrate but she held off, saying she wanted to wait until she was better. She did return to work, but was unable to last more than a couple of hours a day. We attributed it to having been through such physical trauma & needing to get her strength back. But she never did.

Still, we were hopeful & never knew, until yesterday, that she is going to leave us soon—never knowing, at the time of her October surgery, that she had been given eighteen months to live. Almost the same death sentence Marcia had received except Tina kept it to herself, putting a brave face forward to alleviate everyone else's worry & suffering.

It is now nine & a half months later & Tina, not unlike Marcia, lies in her hospital room, waiting. She will not accept visitors or phone calls, outside of immediate family. I thought about sending flowers, but why? Giving flowers is something you do in times of joy, hope. Similarly, a card would not work. What kind of card could I possibly send, anyway? Get well?!? Death, for the undying, is a dilemna that does not lend itself to easy, or graceful, interaction—save for saying "I love you," which is something that must be done in person & which I am prevented from doing because she won't allow anyone to see her. I should just bully my way into her room & say "I know you don't want to see anyone but fuck you—I'm here anyway because I love you. Deal with it!"

This process takes me back to Marcia's last birthday—the one that fell in the middle of her cancer treatments. I found myself in a card store on Madison Avenue, barely able to see their various messages—none of which were even remotely appropriate—through a deluge of tears. The clerk asked if I was okay, & I remember wailing "how do you pick out a birthday card for someone who's dying?!?" Then I fled, running & running to nowhere, nothing, until I found myself entering a side door of St. Patrick's Cathedral, where I headed to a back pew, buried my head in my hands, & wept tears of despair & anger—tears the like of which I have not shed since. Not until now.

New York City Grrls...

2005-05-30T15:42:00.000-04:00

—Excerpt from Native New Yorker, by Odyssey—
And love, love is just a passing word—
It's the thought you had in a taxi cab
that got left at the curb
when he dropped you off on East Eighty-third.
Oh, oh, oh, you're a native New Yorker.
You should know the score by now,
you're a native New Yorker...

Long before Carrie & company hit the HBO airwaves in '98 there was another set of girls just like them—what I refer to as the real SATC girls—*real* because, 10-15 years earlier, we actually lived the lives our TV-counterparts-to-be only played. There were Caitlin & Donna (lusty Samanthas); Charmaine (cynical Miranda); Pam (sweet-as-sugar, ever-optimistic Charlotte); & me (designer-clothes-whore, unlucky-in-love Carrie).

I met Caitlin—who lived in Chelsea on West 26th Street (before Chelsea was chic)—when I got my first real job. She was the receptionist at the ad agency where I worked, & we bonded after she expressed her infatuation with my boyfriend's voice (a soft, lilting Irish brogue). We started hanging out at Irish pubs, often emerging as the morning sun was rising over the East River. But we were very young—early 20s—& could handle such self-imposed physical abuse with little or no after-effects. A stunner with the (singing) voice of an angel, Caitlin had the misfortune of being—how do I put this nicely?—heavy. Very heavy, but just in her lower body. When seated at a table she looked tall & lissome, & men fell all over her. Until she stood up, revealing abnormally large hips & thighs. My boyfriend's hot brother hit on her one night & she fell for him like a rock from the top of the Trade Center. He did take her home & screwed her, but would have nothing to do with her thereafter, breaking her heart. Her attitude kind of turned around after she got over his rejection, & she adopted an (unheard of at the time) male attitude—fuck 'em & leave 'em. One such incident occured in my apartment—she came back with some guy she'd picked up & proceeded to go at it on my dining room floor. Right in front of me! Saw the *entry* & the whole 9-yards before deciding I would probably be better off in my bedroom. Alone. Her sexual behavior & quest for love was a continuing melodrama until she finally met David—a nice Jewish boy who loved her for herself, fat or no. As their relationship progressed towards marriage, ours fell apart & I didn't see her for a few years until I ran into her quite by chance on the street & we renewed it. David & she divorced a year or so later, & she went back to her old ways. Until she met another nice Jewish boy & decided to get married again. The kicker here is that her new guy was an orthodox Jew, & my good Irish Catholic friend converted for him. True to her new religion, she wore long-sleeved blouses, stockings year-round, & a wig to cover her head—rushed to get home by sundown on Fridays to celebrate Sabbath & would have no contact with the outside world until sundown Saturday. I helped her pick out an appropriate wedding gown at Bergdorf's, they were married, & although we spoke a few times after, we no longer had anything in common. The last I ever heard of her is that they moved to a kibbutz in Israel...in 1987!

Donna, from Jackson Heights, Queens, & I met on one of those party-hearty *Cruises to Nowhere* in '84, which I was on with my (just out-of-the-closet) friend Earl. Having been totally freaked out by & furious about his deception—as well as the manner in which he chose to tell me he liked boys (subjecting me to a male stripper bar & gay dance club—all in one night!)—he'd taken me along as penance. Not knowing he was gay (or simply not to be deterred), Donna latched on to him, & the group of us thus bonded as instant best friends. She traveled to Washington, DC to see him on several occasions (for company-party type things—I suppose so he didn't have to out himself to his colleagues) & even managed to get him into a bed a few times. Donna & I would meet after work several nights a week to troll various clubs—the Park 10 in particular, where I fell in lust with its gorgeous Argentine bartender (who held me off just like Big did Carrie) while she scored the latest & greatest hunk to enter its portals. We did Acapulco together, too, & it was there I discovered she had breast implants, obvious by the half-moon shape that appeared above the edge of her very tight tank tops. While I spent my vacation falling in lust with a half-Mexican, half-Spanish god (6'3 & bronzed with regal, chisled features), Donna *did* guys she met at Baby-O—*innest* of all the in discos. She said she hated me for deserting her, but I think she was secretly pleased at my disappearance because it left her with our hotel room all to herself. When I last saw her—in '96—she was still going out to clubs & partying every night. Whatever turns you on...

Pam & I became friends the winter of '85 by virtue of being thrown together as roommates in our ski house. She was a lawyer—a sweet, kind of lost soul from Queens who then lived in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn (before it became chic) & wanted nothing more than to get married & have kids. Like the rest of us, she partied alot & made more than a few egregious mate-mistakes before finding Brian, who she wed in '90, & with whom she had two kids—the first of whom she named Caitlin. She has resided happily-ever-after in suburban New Jersey, as far as I know (though, personally, I think she settled for the best of what was available rather than marrying for love). To my regret, we lost touch ten, twelve years ago—something that can easily happen when one girlfriend has a baby & becomes esconced in suburban family life while the other remains in the City, footloose & fancy free.

Back-tracking a bit, we decided to do a summer share in East Hampton the summer of '86, Pam & me, simply because we were foolish enough to think we might actually find the man of our dreams on one of its expansive beaches or in one of its tony clubs. Wrong. What we did meet were the same boors we rejected in tony Manhattan clubs. Both of us lamented that we might as well have stood on the roofs of our respective apartment buildings & thrown 3,000 one-dollar bills to the wind. The only positive outcome of this rather expensive daliance was that we met Charmaine, a fellow shareholder who eventually became—& remains—my best friend. Thus, the three of us kept each other amused for the remainder of that very long summer—the highlight of which was my being invited by Joel Steinberg (who would, a scant two months later, murder his adopted daughter & be sentenced to 25 years in the slammer) to spend an afternoon on his yacht. Fortunately for me I couldn't find a way to get to Patchogue & had to decline. For many months after, however, Pam & Charmaine chuckled (somewhat too gleefully for my taste) that I—rather than his daughter—could have been the one who ended up *mort* because I probably would have pissed him off so much he would have offed me & thrown my body overboard...

But I digress. On to Charmaine. A workaholic lawyer who lived but 4 blocks south of me, her taste in men was/is questionable at best—generally sleazy types with dubious backgrounds & lifestyles—something she attributes to a continuing attempt to rebel against her prep schooled rich girl/heiress upbringing. Making bad choices meant she could never take them home &, thus, would be spared having to make a commitment, be a wife, or have kids—thoughts that left her paralyzed with fear. Some of her more interesting choices included Benny, a coke dealer posing as a limo driver, who danced on bars & disappeared quick as New York minute, only to reappear hours later looking even more disheveled than he did when he left; Vinny—a 30-something control freak who still lived with his good Italian mama; Peter—pretty-boy son of a partner at a firm she worked for & a closet gay who ignored & tormented her, thus making her even more determined to win him over; & Bill—a 40-something former playboy type who had no visible means of making a living, colored his balding pate with shoe polish & a comb-over, & dyed his eyebrows. Very freaky looking. Then, a few years ago, she reunited with Fred, her *TDF* college love. In town for a business meeting, he phoned & invited her to dinner. Long story short, once-gorgeous Fred now sported a hideous Afro (long after they were chic), wore polyester, & was seriously overweight as well as very married. But she fucked him in his motel room anyway—a mercy-fuck, she said. Yuck. Never in a million years!

Then there's me. My love life reads like a (bad) novel, but I will make it mercifully short. Like Carrie, I've always fallen for the emotionally unavailable type. Even as recently as last year. My list includes (but is not limited to): Chris—a slick, calculating, cold-as-ice car designer who charmed me off my feet & wasted two years of my life before I realized he would never love me—then somehow managing to walk away, never even glancing back over my shoulder; David—a handsome, dashing, successful & very—albeit unhappily—married son of Mafia royalty who romanced me for a year & a half before impregnating me & threatening to have me offed if I didn't abort; Lawrence—a priggish, emotionless economist who was also a sexual superman & drove me to treacherous heights of jealousy with tales of his exploits, which he always explained in painful, lurid detail; Alex—a late 20-something Robert Redford-type—handsome, sexy, brilliant lawyer & as endearingly charming as a little kid, who I (literally) sailed off into the sunset with until I got pregnant & he told me the only thing wrong with our relationship was my pregnancy, then dumped me for an Asian model a month after my abortion; Tommy—a futures trader I met in a bar (thanks alot, Charmaine!) who was not only a dead-ringer for actor/playwright Sam Shepard but also another Mafia prince (who left me standing on the street in tears after I fell in love & tried to become a more important part of a life that, unbeknownst to me, he would never be allowed to let me into); & last, but certainly not least, Jimmy—6'5, DDG, sizzling hot—& hopefully the last of the *bad boys* in my life. The father of my assistant, I met him at her wedding last June. We had an impromptu tryst in the back of his SUV & he told me he hoped to be seeing more of me, now. We were both a little trashed & I left without exchanging phone numbers. But I wasn't worried because hey!—he was Leanna's father & also local. Or so I thought. At least until Leanna returned from her honeymoon & told me he lived on Wake Island—half-way around the world. Now completely panicked, I dashed off an email that she forwarded to him. While we wrote steamy email back & forth—full of stuff like how he couldn't wait to see me again—he returned six months later & showed up at our office with an extremely wealthy 5'10 Latina in tow. Leanna said they were living together. Kinda reminds me of the old Pet Shop Boys lyrics: "I love you, you pay my rent..." Talk about getting sand-bagged...

Well, that's my love life—something that, sadly, has not had Carrie's same happy ending. I'm not sure any of our stories (save, perhaps, for Pam & Caitlin) had or even will have happy endings. Life doesn't come with guarantees. But I hope you've enjoyed reading about the exploits of the real-life versions of Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte & Samantha—our own group of incredible girls who rocked Gotham throughout the 80s...

(Note to readers: Since this particular post is destined to take on a life of its own, please check my sidebar for the link to it—New York City Grrl—to follow our further adventures)

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow...

2005-05-20T19:16:00.000-04:00

you're always a day away!

Okay, so I plagarized a line from Annie instead of coming up with something original. But it works, so I'll keep it. You see, I've been promising my dogs forever that tomorrow I'll: 1) bathe & groom them, & 2) take them to the dog park. But tomorrow never comes...it's always *today.* And I am always on this fucking computer.

Doing what, tho? Working, surfing, blogging. I'm surprised I'm not blind by now (though close to it). My vision first started going downhill in '88 when I was working at an ad agency. One of the creative directors had given me a storyboard to translate to computer. When I bemoaned the fact that I couldn't see it, I was accused of not wanting to work. So at lunch I took myself across the street to Cohen's Optical &, lo & behold, I needed glasses. Just a +50 correction, but necessary nonetheless. I went back to the office, presented Joe with this bit of information, & was forgiven.

Today, 17 years later, my vision is +275—something I attribute not to age but to working on a fucking computer 10+ hours a day for each & every one of those years. That I've owned my own computer since '91 only exacerbates my usage. A lot of what I do is screwing around, I must admit, but much is legitimate. To wit: I put a web site to bed this morning (around 10), but have wasted the rest of the day surfing.

I could have been lying beside the pool tanning, or gone golfing with my friend Bill; could have worked out at the gym or tended to my puppies. Which I intend to do. Tomorrow. Tend to the puppies, that is.

Tonight I will shut my laptop down (at a reasonable hour), put it in its case instead of leaving it on the table, & let it rest. At least until Sunday morning...because tomorrow belongs to the dogs ;]

Random thoughts on a sultry May day...

2005-05-18T16:08:00.000-04:00

I couldn't get to sleep until 3am—have had a rough couple of months—& kind of got lost surfing the net, rediscovering (in particular) one particular guy from my past who, save for a nasty trick of Fate, probably would have been my husband. Funny how the tiniest bit of information can jog one's memory, & how that one little *jog* can trigger a domino effect! I guess I wandered off in this direction because I am not particularly happy right now—my life is not in the greatest of places—& was seeking refuge in happier times. But the irony here is that sometimes remembering those happy times can make you sad (or sadder) than you were to begin with because they make you recall all the mistakes you've made along the way—& how different things might have been, if only for...

The reason for my present state of mind: getting sand-bagged at work by a group of people I can only liken to the infamous corporate raiders of the late 80s. I'd given my company the world—created profitable wholesale & retail websites, worked 60-70 hrs/wk forever, did all the product photography, graphics, writing, site layouts/navigation/info architecture, designed print ads & even a billboard. But they wanted more—a 300% increase in my bottom line for '05. So I called in an SEO group to help put us at the top of Google & Yahoo. Long story short, the SEO firm wormed their way in like thieves in the night & took over everything—including my job!

It's a tough transition from 10+ hour work days to sitting on one's arse—even tougher having to live on a paycheck that was cut by 2/3's. Then add to that lost friendships—my two best friends down here still work there. Since it is nearly impossible to interact without discussing work, & I can't talk to them without getting very, very angry, we no longer talk. It all hurts so much, & there's nothing I can do about it. I'd sue if I had an extra 10 grand laying around, but I'm lucky to just squeak by right now. So I'm on unemployment, have sold most of my fabulous designer stuff on eBay to supplement it, & am trying to build up some freelance web design biz. Have a couple of gigs going, but no cash yet...

Maybe I wouldn't be quite as miserable if the weather here were a little less unpleasant. It's already way up in the 80s & humid as hell...& I've never been able to deal with humidity!

I want my old life back...my life pre-9/11 when I had an awesome job, tons of opportunity & lots of disposable income. But the terrorists changed all that—I lost my job (&, thus, my life as I knew it, but at least I didn't lose my physical life as so many others did). No wonder I find myself dwelling in the past...it's a much safer place to be, even if it does make me a little sad...