Though I’ve always had vivid, detailed dreams that I usually remember, I’ve never been one to have frequent dreams about getting married. Until recently. In the past few weeks I’ve had several dreams involving getting married. Only…there’s always something not quite right.
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No, it’s not that I wear denim hotpants all the time. But I’m struck by the days when I casually say things that I realize only after the fact could be misinterpreted should someone hear them out of context. These things are mostly silly, Arrested Development, Tobias Funke things.
A recent gaffe: at the end of a long day a male colleague asked if I’d tried a piece of peanut butter cake that someone had left in the office pantry. I responded that I didn’t like peanut butter, and then added what I thought was the innocent statement, “So if you really wanted to screw me at Christmas time you could just get me a box of nuts.”
Only after I’d heard the sentence come forth did I realize how very, very, very wrong every single word was. “Screw me” should have been “screw me over” (see how just one word can make such a big difference?), and “box of nuts” should have been…good God, it should have been anything other than “box of nuts.”
Now, if I started painting myself blue, well, then we’d have a real problem.
I opened my mailbox the other night and a thin catalog came tumbling out at me. On the cover in gold script were the large words “forever in love.”
This, everyone, is the 2013 lookbook for “Wedding Paper Divas.”
“Your happily ever after begins with the perfect first impression,” says the fine print above “forever in love.”
How had I gotten on this mailing list, I wondered? Was it a sign?
About two months ago I signed up for a different online dating site. I’d grown weary of the other one, finding it tedious, disappointing, and not very productive.
So far so good with the new site. I’ve had a couple of dates, and recently I’ve been exchanging messages with someone I was actually quite looking forward to meeting. When he sent me his personal email address, I explained that I like to stick to the site’s email system, at least until I know someone better. He said he was fine with that. We continued corresponding and made plans to meet tomorrow. I sent him my phone number so that we could text to sort out details for meeting.
Then an hour later I received this message from the guy:
In looking back at our emails and in light of how reticent you seem to be, I’m thinking we do not meet up. I’m someone who is very open and looking for an equally open partner. I, of course, am not questioning why you seem to be, it’s certainly your preference; just one that I do not share at that level.
I apologize that it came the day before, but it felt like honesty was the correct path here.
Hope you have a good weekend.
Apparently, my not wanting to use my personal email but sharing my phone number means I’m a very reticent person.
So, yeah. That’s my weekend.
Since I recently purchased my apartment, I decided to reward myself with another purchase: a much-needed desk. It’s one I’ve had my eye on for awhile, and when it went on sale, I knew it was time. I deserve to be able to write like a civilized grown up, I thought, rather than hunched over my laptop on my sofa.
Fast forward to me arriving home at 10:30 one evening to find two very tall boxes waiting for me in the lobby of my building. Fortunately they weren’t too heavy, so I slid them into the elevator, then slid them to my front door, then slid them into my living room. I didn’t want to leave the boxes cluttering up the space, so at 11pm I decided, “I’m going to put this together!”
There have been several times in my life where coincidences have struck me as significant, times where the feeling of deja vu has felt particularly strong, and instances where something occurring in life reminds me strongly of something I dreamed about. Nevertheless, Read the rest of this entry
During intervals of stress, it’s nice to take a step back and appreciate the simple nice things that can occur throughout the day despite the stress.