Re-Defined Life

NAU: North American Union ?

Why is this the first time I've heard about this? One currency. Borderless land. Shouldn't this be front page news?

Gigi Telushkin

Let's set the scene here: Eric and I are out at a piano bar, listening to Frank Sinatra songs, dressed up, after dinner at Cuba Cuba, which is well worth the extra bit of money it costs to eat and drink there. Eric pays his drink bill and heads to the bathroom. I, you must know, am wearing the little black dress. Which never ever fails.

Waiter: Usually I can tell whether it is the first couple dates or not. With you guys, I can't tell.

Me: Maybe we don't know either.

Waiter: Well, I was just saying something because I saw that last name. Zinkerman...are you sure you can handle that?

I am amused to consider whether this was an interesting attempt to hit on a girl who was already out with another man or whether there is some strange genuine concern. And how does he know my last name isn't Telushkin? I could be just as Jewish as the blond-haired blue-eyed boy I was out with. Maybe more.

Boggle-Eyed Sexy

On Wednesday mornings we do yoga. At work. I may have mentioned this awesomeness before. And I may mention it again. Yoga. At work. Awesome.

And on these Wednesdays, inevitably, I feel that the yoga instructor is flirting with me.

I tried to call myself vain and excuse his seeming flirtations as coming from my own mind. But I couldn't. Because, though truly I am vain, it is also true that he flirting.

And I never say a word, because it doesn't cross lines. It just is. Exists. And it is always a little awkward to the throw out the I-have-a-boyfriend card when someone hasn't actually made a real move. So I downward dog and bear it.

This particular past Wednesday, as I was headed down to the yoga room with my bright pink mat in tow, he made some nice, not unusual, flirty comment about how nice I looked. And on to yoga we went. Breathe. High plank. Breathe. Leg in the air. Breathe. Handstand. And so on.

When we were done yoga-ing and Kelly was headed back up the steps with her matt, he looked over at me.

"Gigi, I was hoping we could meet before or after yoga next week."

I stared wide-eyed and silently at him for a moment. Unwilling to answer because I-have-a-boyfriend is rude if you were asking to meet for fifteen minutes to ask about website stuff (which has been done before). And because sure! is not appropriate if this is not about website stuff. So, the only appropriate answer: wide-eyed staring and then retelling the embarrassing moment on your blog.

A moment later he explained that I was the one taking care of his website project with us. So, sure sure! became the appropriate answer and it was scheduled straightaway.

I know you admire how I handled that. You may ask, how does she do this? It all comes down to the weird boggle-eyed staring. It makes people uncomfortable enough to explain their position.

Yeah, I'm awesome.

Which is why he flirts with me.

So Is Hers

I am at work. It is past 8PM. I am officially a workaholic.

And my life is awesome.

And so is hers.

I Just Wanted an Elephant Book...

I know my content generally stays within PG-13-land, but I had to share this with you.

The definition of sexy

and how much do you think they paid the model to discard his dignity?

yeah...

Sorted

There's a blog I came across when reading a 50 cent book I bought on Amazon.com. The reason I bought the book in the first place is that one of the bloggers featured in it just happened to be one of my personal favorites--Uncle Bob, who lives in Alabama, DJs weddings and parties and makes fun of everything.

So I bought the book and found two other bloggers worth reading. The first, already having been mentioned on this blog before is Heather Armstrong, who is writing a book I believe, which I will read. And the second was Ali Davis: Porn Store Clerk. I happened to think of and look up her blog again today (which is no longer being updated as, presumably, she has moved on). And I thought I would share with all of you, as you so patient with my lately long bouts of not writing.

Speaking of my not writing. The combination of stress and fatigue drove my body into about 12 hours of feeling like total crap this Friday. I went in to work to get some important things done, but ended up leaving halfway through the day, eating an entire Chipotle burrito (which is quite a feat, if you don't know) and passing out on my bed to drift in and out of sleep for four hours or so.

I felt tons better after just eating and sleeping and taking a deep breath. It's odd how something like stress in your personal life--like finding out horrible things happening to your friends, like being canceled on four times in a row, like nursing suspicions, like struggling with injustice--can literally make your body melt down. The connection between body and mind astounds me.

So I've made right some mind things. Sorted out the fatigue. Spent today watching the entire season of Samantha Who? online for free and alternately sleeping or eating. And sending good thoughts Eric's way, as he seemingly has food poisoning. :( And the nausea fades and the focus returns. And I take a deep breath. And forge back into my life. With the hopes that things will continue to get better. And that I'll continue to become a better person. That I'll keep my resolutions to tell people how I feel. That my job will continue to leave me feeling so grateful to be there. That my relationship, which I am also grateful for, will only continue getting better.

And I'll leave you with this year's goals for my life:
-Grow in my understanding of all things marketing and advertising.
-Tell people when they're hurting me. Forgive, but not stay silent.
-Go to Temple.
-Learn more about the Torah, the writings, the prophets and Jewish history/tradition/thought
-Do what's right first. But also do things that make me happy.
-Love people. Love God.

Sake Muffin

Sake, the love muffin.

For Want of a Moment the Camel's Back Broke

The straw that broke the camel's back came at 9:45 tonight. After a bad week of premonition and then realization. A week of let-downs. A week of important things that turned me into something unimportant. I needed to laugh.

It's understandable. The need to laugh in the face of your heart's breaking.

I turned to the usual suspects. To dooce and then to another journal I read--one run by a friend of mine, entirely private and only accessed by those she has given access to. She's someone I always found hilarious and interesting. Someone, in some ways, that I looked up to.

And she broke the camel's back. By removing me from that list. From the humor of her diction.

On another day, a happy day, it would have been mildly disappointing. It wouldn't have made me feel so discarded. It wouldn't have felt fitting. And fitting is the last way that I want it to feel. And, again, it would have been the last, except for this week.

It begins with a friend. A new friend. Someone I wanted to get to know. Someone I'd like to make a part of my life. I've tried to have brunch with her at least four times. canceled. canceled. canceled. canceled.

With so many postponings: soon you start to feel devalued. Somehow, no matter how many times you make a person your priority, they won't make you theirs.

Then there were plans I tried to make. Plans, again, to prioritize someone in my life. And this time I didn't even get the courtesy of a cancellation. An apology, yes. But you could have picked up your phone before my evening went on alone, rather than after. Before I spent my night upset in my bottle of Riesling. Wishing I didn't let myself past that wall. That the cancellations and postponing and not even responding didn't hurt my heart.

And on top of all of it, there was a memory. An unwanted, miserable memory.

A girl I met and was reminded of this week. She looked like Kelly. The girl my first love chose. I remember how lost I felt the first time I realized who that girl was. How undesirable in the face of something so false. How helpless, unable to ever win. No matter how little I feel when I conjure up his memory, hers will always break a part of me. Because hers means I am less.

So all week it goes on. Unvaluable. Displaced. Lost. Unimportant. Not a priority.

I know time isn't everyone's love language, but it IS mine. I need the quick phone call to say you're not going to make it. And, next time, I need you to make it. To be there. And to make an effort. And if you can't make time for me, I won't make any more for you. I've always believed in forgiving seventy times seven. But what if that last seven breaks you apart? What then?

I miss college--where people wanted to be near me. Where people were seldom stingy with their time.

Eric

Interesting, amicable, darling Eric.

Doing what he does. Making something beautiful.

Torah, History, Ritual, Life

1. I went to Barnes and Noble last Thursday. To kill thirty minutes before orientation (will tell you about that momentarily). And I stumbled across a thick referential book, reminiscent of the ones I used to take off my dad's bookshelf. Thick hardcover books with the names of rabbis or pastors or theologians or philosophers. The one I came across this week was written by Rabbi Joseph Telushkin and titled Jewish Literacy. The book felt comfortingly heavy and, in perusing it, surprisingly lightly written. History. The Torah. Ritual. Life. I was immediately enthralled and had to have it.

Unfortunately for me, I didn't have to have it 35$ worth.

But, fortunately for me, Amazon had to have it for 8$.

I am, needless to say, inexorably stoked.

2. After getting my new book fix I headed to orientation for RFB&D (Reading for the Blind & Dislexic). That's right folks, Monday nights I'll be settling into a sound booth with a textbook in hand. Reading out loud. History. Theology. Literature. Bits and pieces of lovely lovely books.

3. Lately, I've found myself disappointed by the reading materials available to me. Anyone have suggestions (I mean, I know I have Jewish Literacy coming my way now, but I also need a fiction fix)?

4. I am contemplating laying Re-Defined Denver to rest. With the hours I work at my job and the time I want to spend with my friends and with Eric, it is starting to get overly tedious. And, as it isn't my career, the fact that the past month of entries have been unenjoyable to me leaves me the opinion that I should stop. It's more important to me that my life feels quality than that I see Re-Defined Denver through.

The time and the internet issues and the rummaging for content are just tedious. And, while I still think that something of this nature is much needed, it'll have to be someone else that fulfills it.

I haven't fully made up my mind, but I've been sliding closer and closer to the idea all February. And now I am alongside the idea. Holding its hand. Not too long before I am entirely seduced by the freedom.