Give Me a Break.

I’d been meaning to get a post out to you, dear readers, to qualify what is clearly a blogging break, but my blogging imitates life and I’ve been experiencing an extended period of apathy. Apathy about my work, about my social calendar, and certainly about boys.

It happens to me sometimes, usually after an extended period of giving to others. This year’s been a doozy, complete with out-of-town weddings, multiple babies and long-time friends moving away. It can be unbelievably draining supporting others and now that I’m through the bulk of it I find I simply want to do… nothing.

So I didn’t have the push needed to put the pencil to the paper, so to speak, until this afternoon. I was in somewhat reluctant attendance at what is becoming an annual end of summer festival. This year two worlds collided, and one set of my friends met another set, a meeting that I should have engineered years ago. As it happened, group of friends #1 included The Great Blind Date, and group of friends #2 included N, whose initial reaction upon me pointing out said failed first date was “he’s not cute enough for you”.

Now what girl doesn’t want to hear that’s she’s pretty? Even from the bias of a good friend? Girls who are truly on a break. I appreciated the compliment, but after defending The Great Blind Date’s worthiness (he was smart and funny and interesting), I realized I simply didn’t care that he hadn’t been interested. It wasn’t awkward seeing him and attempting to make small talk, it wasn’t… anything.

So that’s where we’re at. I am on an indefinite break and so is the blog. I hope to be back soon.

Going to the Chapel

… where my wonderful cousin who never lost hope that she was going to get married is gonna get married! And not just married, but married to a wonderful man who loves her for the person that she is and brings out the best in her.

Which, quite honestly, is the only scenario in which one should get married. As my mother once said to me, “ anyone can get married”. It takes far less effort to get hitched than it does to find someone you truly want to share the rest of your life with.

That’s what she’s found, and I truly couldn’t be happier for her. Not just because she no longer has to date, which is reward in itself, but because despite making it to her early 30’s without having found her mate, she DID meet him. And they fell in love, and bought a house and a puppy and she’s so happy she says she has to pinch herself sometimes to believe that it’s true.

Of course I will be reprising my usual role of bridesmaid, with the added notch to MOH, which translates much closer to “Maid of Helping with every imaginable detail associated to a wedding that isn’t even yours” than “Maid of Honor”. I am honored, though, having beat out a sister and sister-in-law for the title, and I certainly have the skills for it. I even have almost everything you need for the wedding day emergency kit on hand in my condo.

So please join me in toasting to the health and happiness of the bride and groom, to an above-average selection of vodka at the bar, and that this will be my last run as a bridesmaid (or at least the maid part). Congratulations!

Slow Motion Man

smart, nice, architect
moving so slow we have stopped
still can’t build me love

You know that commercial for Jimmy Dean breakfast snacks where the little kid gets slowed waaaay down by the evil Slow Motion clock guy when he's running around in the gym? No? Well check it out here and then get back to reading because that's what appears to have happened with The Architect.

He’s the little kid being slowed down, and I’m the Jimmy Dean sun guy, throwing turkey sausages at him to try to give him the motivation to get going (I have no idea who the clock is in this analogy, I just really get a kick out of this line of commercials).

But despite him confirming he was interested and me clarifying that my interest was contingent on actually spending time with him, it seems we’ve slowed down even more than the initial slow down that prompted me questioning his interest in the first place. And lest you think that I’m rushing things, I’m talking about chatting over email a few times a week, hanging out maybe once a week and capping that hanging out with some old school make out activity, circa the 9th grade (or at least my 9th grade, I was good).

What’s happened instead is that after I reached out a few times, and saw him once, with not so much as a hand on my knee to indicate any physical interest, I have not heard from him at all. In two full weeks.

I am a lot of things dear readers, but delusional is not one of them. I know that I demonstrated clear and continued interest that has not been returned. And that even though there are plenty of reasons why someone might suddenly drop out of play, they all boil down to just one: “I’m not that into you”.

So no matter how awesome the custom wine cellar The Architect could have designed for my future single family home in the city could have been, I’m officially calling this one. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some delicious breakfast snacks to enjoy.