The Date

(if you're just joining us, please read the previous post before proceeding.)

it wasn't too bad -- could have been worse, i'm sure, also could have been better. after a slightly awkward start, i progressively became more comfortable and began to enjoy things. the guy was nice, intelligent, often funny, conversation easily flowed. he's a recent LA transplant from the east coast, spent the last two years teaching english in romania, spent 12 years as a latin teacher in the states. he's 36, a brown graduate, cute in a boyish way, very worldly, but SHORT. too short for my taste at 5'9". i like my heels and platform shoes, and with them on, we're eye to eye. (a 6'5" man like my last one is waaay sexier.) i tried to snap a digital photo of him to post up here, but he wouldn't go for it. i need to keep this blog secret from the dudes. one guy i was chatting with actually found it by googling my name, and i don't want that to happen again. first names only from here on out.

and the guys -- there are so many, it's crazy. didn't realize how much dick was out there. i get new responses to my profile every day. i've already struck up email exchanges with a half dozen of them. some have been interesting, others less so. one dude from the other night actually told me he hadn't been laid in two years. guys, this is something you should NOT share with a woman you hardly know and are (presumably) trying to impress. because women do indeed judge men by the women who surround them, and if no woman surrounded this man in two years, chances are that i won't want to either. he then asked me how i felt about porn and gave me the not-so-subtle impression that he was OBSESSED with it. the conversation ended shortly thereafter.

but back to the others. there are lots to choose from and i've decided to spread myself thin. (indeed, from carrie to samantha, z.) i'm thinking i need to create a harem for myself, find a handful of fun and interesting guys to put into rotation. the guy from last night could be a contender. no committments, low-maintenance, no big and complicated feelings, no boyfriends. that's what i envision for myself this year. fuck you, if you judge me. this is my show, and after spending 10 years in unsuccessful and uneventful relationships, my only concern will (finally) be about pleasing myself.

in regard to my profile (ok, it's on nerve personals), here's a snippet: MORE ABOUT WHAT I AM LOOKING FOR: Someone with a strong sense of self. Someone who can laugh at himself. Someone who knows what he's doing in the boardroom, bedroom and kitchen.

maybe i should put something in there about height?

Men & Money

i have neither and want both. last week was miserable for dough, as the brakes on my car went out on the way to campus, forcing me to pull into a firestone for $550 worth of repairs. then pablo calls me a few days later to tell me about the bill he got for my cell phone, which i've been using nonstop for the past month: $350. now, of course, this is money i don't have, and which, if i did have, i would use to furnish my barren living room, with its boxes still piled high in the corners.

i've been here a month now, i just paid rent today (another $1,150, all me). seems like the first time i can say a month passed slowly, but i really felt the hours in each day. i'm still trying to sort my shit out, externally and internally. working on it, trying to be all zen, accepting everything without judgment. sometimes i get further than i thought i would, but it's a painstakingly long process. i also have a lot of anger, which i need to process.

i'm proud of myself, though, if i may say. years and years ago, i would have handled things much differently, more recklessly -- been more self-destructive, found solace in a bottle, a little baggy of herb or powder, had unprotected sex with strangers. i didn't give a shit about myself then. the years of self-development and yoga have been good to me, however. i'm more centered, have good perspective, feel strong inside. doesn't mean i don't have my nights when i dust off a full bottle of wine all by lonesome, but that's not every night. and i very much enjoy living alone. true, i get lonely at times, but i deal with it.

which brings me to my next point: dating. i put an online profile out there, somewhere, and i've gotten a few responses. i actually have my first sort-of date tonight. eeeck! just drinks, but it feels completely strange, nerve wracking. and it's not because i like the guy -- truthfully, i couldn't give a shit -- but just the idea of playing the game, doing the mating dance feels so foreign (and a little exciting). i've allowed only one man to touch me in the last four years, so the thought of even letting someone take my hand makes me uneasy. but i'm sure the drinks will help me relax.

i'm obviously not open to crazy entanglements or great affairs -- that is without question. it's more dating for sport, not for love. wanna see what's out there, how it's done, have some fun while still nursing my broken heart. hopefully, it'll be a pleasant distraction, and it could make reading this blog much more enjoyable for you guys, as i'll be sure to report my happenings here. i know i probably should wait a little longer before dipping my toe in the pool, but what the hell? i want to enjoy myself again, i want to feel like a woman. i'm tired of sulking around at home, feeling pathetic.

from 'mary tyler moore' to 'sex and the city.' i'm carrie bradshaw in los angeles, this is my column. i'll take over where she left off.

Working Girl

the good and bad news is that i'm swamped with work -- schoolwork, that is. and of course i'm behind in everything. i've already asked for extensions on two papers, neither of which i have started and both of which were due this week. i need to play catch up in a major way very quickly.

so i'm imploring you, dear readers, to help me on yet another assignment i need to complete. this is fairly basic stuff -- i just need three story ideas. that's it. they're for my "comp exam," which is basically a 1,500-word news story i need to write for the school to show them that they taught me something in two years. it's in lieu of a proper thesis, it's on a pass/fail basis, and i need to submit three ideas by friday, one of which they will choose and give me two weeks to complete. help a sistah out by shooting me an email with some ideas (very easy, very basic stuff, please) of stories that you'd like to see reported. let's keep it local, as i'm obviously unable to travel to washington to report on bush and his wishes for an unconstitutional constitutional amendment.

send emails to: milla666@aol.com (sorry, too lazy to hyperlink) and thanks for playing.

Better

things have improved on this end, as far as my innards go. i had a couple of loopy days there where i thought they needed to cart me off to the looney bin. i couldn't cope at first, but now i've regained my footing.

i suppose my last post was a bit vitriolic and i don't mean to shut people out. it was just fucking annoying after i first split with pablo the wave of pity that came my way. people constantly calling offering everything under the sun, inviting me out to the movies, girls at my school running up to me in the halls and suddenly trying to hug me, everyone asking "are you ok?" and then having to retell the story, decline offers politely and so forth. perhaps i'm being unfair. i'm sure it was all sincere, but it was still fucking annoying, and lately i'm feeling twice as irritable.

i'm trying to go on like normal, trying to find furnishings for my new living room, trying to focus on my assignments and trying to pull myself out of self-pity mode. give me time with the last one. i need to wallow a bit longer and i know that falling apart won't do anyone any good. but it's hard to just "snap out of it."

the bright side to everything is that i've lost 10 pounds without even trying.

Bad to Worse

my best friend has cancer. i got the news late last week. it's lymphoma, non-hodgkins, i think. needless to say, this has been devastating. he's my closest friend, whom i've known for 15 years, three of which he spent as my boyfriend. we have so much between us, i couldn't even describe it. our bond runs unimaginably deep. he's a half-semester away from completing a master's degree at columbia university in new york. he works part time for UNICEF. he's an extraordinary person, one of the smartest i've ever met. and now he has cancer.

i don't know how to wrap my brain around all the new realities i've suddenly found myself facing. this is beyond difficult and i lately find myself unraveling. i'm trying to keep it together, stay strong, prepare myself for what lies ahead. but it's so fucking hard.

friends, stay the fuck away. if you see me, don't remind me or look at me with those sad eyes you gave me when i split with my boyfriend. if i want to talk to you about it, i will (though i probably won't want to). it was bad enough having to go through the phone pleasantries when everyone called offering their condolenses for the death of my relationship. i'm feeling less cordial this time around, and need even more time and space. if you must, send e-mail. don't expect a reply. sorry in advance, i'm just not feeling like myself lately. respect that.

if you want to help, find a cure for lymphoma.

Moved to Move On

doing MUCH better, folks. i think the worst is behind me and i'm feeling pretty strong lately. no more tears, in or outside of class. now a healthy sense of optimism is starting to sink in, spawned in large part to my new digs, which, if i may say, are pretty fucking sweet.

yes, i moved to a great 1-bedroom guesthouse in west hollywood, washer/dryer in the unit, dishwasher, hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, recessed lighting in each room, pine cabinets in the kitchen, private YARD in the back for my dog, private entrance for me through a gorgeous french door, tile in the bathroom, new stove... so i guess i'm pretty pleased with my new residence.

yeah, i feel so mary tyler moore lately. these moments have been saturated with such sweet possibility. i'm not there yet, and i know it will take many more months of ups and downs, but i'm starting to heal.

Thanks, Jeremy

Invictus
by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Meltdown

i shouldn't be writing right now. i promised myself i wouldn't sit down to blog until i returned to baseline, at least somewhat. but i don't believe that's going to happen anytime soon, and when i feel too much, i often feel compelled to write it down, filter it through, get it out and send it on its way.

i don't fucking know. i should be doing a million other things right now, like packing up my shit to get ready for a move i'll likely be making soon. i could do some schoolwork, dishes, anything, everything. but nope, just sitting here consumed by this.

YES, it's true, folks. it is indeed over; YES, he cheated; YES, i'm pissed -- hurt, sad, disappointed, shocked and every other sorry feeling you can think of. i'm a fucking mess, walking disaster, i even cried in class the other day. that was so dumb, but i just couldn't help it. my column writing professor had us do an in-class exercise where we just free wrote for 10 minutes nonstop. guess what i wrote about? then he had us read it aloud to the rest of the class. i squirmed and said it was too personal, but he insisted, and since i knew i wouldn't be able to get through it, a classmate kindly read it for me. here it is:

"my heart is broken. that's the bottom line. he did it, broke it, finished it. and of course i never saw it coming. (does anyone?) just feel destroyed, like a nuclear wasteland, my safety net obliterated, my home ruined. four years -- good ones -- and he leaves me with this as his parting memory of us: that he cheated. that's what it's all reduced to. i can never remember the summer spent traveling through europe, the courtship that seemed so perfect, those first few weeks with the new puppy when we became a family. nope, nixed. now only this: that he cheated, he strayed, he lied. four years reduced to this simple fact and nothing more.
but i'll go on. i must, i'm not easily broken. i'll rise, survive, and maybe one day learn to love again, without fear. 'just keep busy,' i tell myself. must GO, GO, GO. there's work to be done, tasks that need completion, papers that need to be written, dishes to be washed. i can't stop, not even for a minute. otherwise, i just fall apart, collapse onto the floor in a sobbing heap. must pull through. keep it together and for god's sake, don't cry in class!! and sometimes it works. sometimes i get so focused on what i'm doing that i forget for a moment. the pain ceases and i can exhale. that's about all i can do -- breathe in, breathe out. lord knows i can't eat or sleep. can't really smile. won't be doing anything that feels carefree for a while. just surviving -- taking it one day at a time, letting time heal all wounds, that it's his loss, and every other fucking cliche i've heard in the last few days."

so of course i cried in class when it was read aloud and now i'll always be the Tragic Girl among my classmates. i was so embarassed, didn't know how to recover, so i sat silent the rest of the class, wishing it would finally be over so i could go home and cry some more.

sorry, maybe this is too much information. i never put shit up this personal on my blog and that's always been intentional. i really am a private person, despite even having a blog. but i don't want to vanish. you'll have to bear with me as i work through it here, at least some of it.

thanks, friends who've offered their support through phone calls, emails, comments. i hear ya, appreciate it. but i need some time alone right now. i won't be coming over to ruin your day with my trauma so you can feel sorry for me while i feel sorry for myself. i best grieve in private.

and i'll pull through ultimately -- this, i don't doubt, so don't worry too much about me. yes, it'll make me stronger, my heart a little harder, my eyes a little sadder, but it won't break me. now if you'll excuse me, i have to go weep.

The Big News in Six Words

he cheated. i'm pissed. it's over.

The (Last) First Week of Classes

ah, nice to be all done with my school week on a wednesday and through until next tuesday, as monday is MLK day. how did it go, you ask? well, nothing unusual -- standard passing out of syllabi, professor introducing himself (yes, all men this semester), outlining course goals and setting expectations. here's the rundown:

Column Writing: i wish i can say more about this one, but the prof was out with the flu on day one and had a sub step in and show a documentary during class. the doc's subject: the prof himself, the venerable norman corwin. ok, this guy is the shit, amazing writer, really more of a poet than a journalist, but he's 93. no joke, that's his real age. i've been waking up each morning afraid i'll see his obituary in the LA Times. i mean, having the flu at 93 is a big deal, no? for my own selfish sake, i hope not, because i don't want to miss out on this guy's eminence. the class requires me to produce plenty of columns, but i rather enjoy writing personal essays and this blog is kinda like a column to me, so it should be fun.

Magazine Writing: finally, a class on magazines -- you know, the arena i'll likely enter after graduation. i'm so sick of daily news. this class better be good, because the school has a lot of making up to do. prof seems cool, heard he's lax with deadlines, very nice and approachable guy. just need to produce two lengthy pieces for this class, one of which is a personal essay. so again, outlook good.

Publications Design & Technology: this one will teach me how to use adobe's in design 2.0 and photoshop 7.0 and a little of quark. useful, engaging, easy. that's how all should be with this class, though i've heard it's really a lot of busy work. there's a final design project of my choosing, so i hope to create a snazzy portfolio to showcase my work in. bad news is that the class is full of undergrads and the only other annenberg grad student is the most annoying girl in my program.

other than that, the class i'm the TA for has to do with sports. it's something like "sports, business and society." (big yawn) but whatever. usc is still footing the entire bill for me this semester and giving me a monthly stipend. i'm also gonna continue copy editing for those wacky dorks in culver city and keep trying to pick up clips. and maybe i'll pick up an internship somewhere, if i can make the time and if it's really worthwhile.