observations from the universe

I received this earlier this week from The Universe:

Ever wondered why so many people, sometimes virtual strangers, tell you their deepest secrets, Patsy?

It's because when they look into your eyes, they see me.

And sharing their secrets with me, as you, reminds them that no matter what they have to say, my love is so much bigger.

We're quite the team -
The Universe

I was just remarking about this the other day because I do have a big invisible sign across my forehead saying, "Tell me everything. I will listen." People spill their guts without a thought. Clearly, I missed my calling; I should have been a shrink. At least then I would get paid to listen.

Yes, I am grumpy today.

paying

I have been on a Tyler Perry movie kick. I love watching someone else's roller coaster life get wrapped up pretty with a bow with happiness overflowing in the span of two hours. I really like his stories and perspective - it is very call-it-like-it-is, stating the obvious, but sometimes it is simply good to hear it.

Last night's selection was Diary of a Mad Black Woman. It started me thinking about my attitude towards men because in many respects the movie could have easily been the Diary of a Mad Puerto Rican-Italian Princesa Named Patsy. The line that truly struck a chord was the romantic male lead telling the divorcee lead, "Don't make me pay for his mistakes." The 'his' being referred to is the divorcee's ex-husband.

"Don't make me pay for his mistakes."

I do that. The realization slapped me across the face last night as I watched the film. What I have termed 'cautious', not repeating the same pattern went from simply being knowledgeable to the harder, misguided making him, any him, pay for the past transgressions of the tainted men from my past.

Fear.

Trust.

Two simple words.

Two powerful forces.

However, these words play a significant role in making him pay. The cynic in me grows feeding on the fear and inability to trust. Fear of being made a fool again; fear of trusting that someone is who he says; fear of being vulnerable; fear of hurt.

Especially in the Internet sphere, trust is a difficult thing for me. Men use old photos, misrepresent height, weight, professions. Of course, women do that too, but I like to think people should be fairly honest when trying to meet someone. In my profile, I used recent photos and was honest with the likes/dislikes tick boxes. My other fear/trust issue with on-line dating is the 'always looking for something better' philosophy but I remind myself that is present int he real-world dating scheme too.

As a result of this grand realization compliments of Mr. Perry, I have been making an effort to be in the now with The Computer Geek; to cease the cynical voice in my head that automatically plays the punisher soundtrack. The Computer Geek is not his predecessors; he may turn in an arse, but it will be on his own and not because I have made him into those who came before him.

holiday weekend catch up

Ah! Labor Day.

What a fabulous day to be sipping down gin, leading the fabulous life of a lady of leisure!

I must motivate to head northward to a small party. But I must admit the comfy couch, silly hound dog and gin are very tempting to keep me indoors like a hermit.

It has been a busy week leading up to today though:

• A much avoided dinner with my friend, the Professor. For the very first time, our time together was not all about her. Somehow my office hell came to the forefront, and The Prof actually admitting never asking and she was amazed at the pressure I am under and how I get it all done on top of being surrounded by dirty old men.
• Dinner with a co-worker, where the words "I love you" were said at the end of the evening. Were the words uttered in a fatherly manner or was it something else? Much like how many licks it takes to get to the center for tootsie roll pop, the world may never know.
• Take two with The Computer Geek. In which, I was overly guarded and I really don't think much fun. Thursday was an ugly day of a particularly ugly week. I found out my remaining elderly traveling companion, The Queen, has been ill with biopsy results pending. Thursday night was not one of my finest moments but I thought I had him fooled. However, at the end of the evening, The Computer Geek told me, "I'll leave it up to you if you want to see me again." Clearly, my evening's grand performance was lacking conviction.
• Friday afternoon I received an e-mail from The Computer Geek.
• Friday night was a quiet, much needed cocooning. Me and Lulu.
• Season opener football game. I met The Computer Geek at a sports bar where we took in the game. I did have fun. I have realized that he doesn't get out a whole bunch, not in the ways that I do where I know the city like my closet. After the game, we headed down the road for a change of venue. I had a cocktail, he had a few. But we did laugh. I enjoyed myself. Of course, after my ceasing to worry and his few too many cocktails, our goodbye ended with a few pecks. He would have been more forward, but I put a halt to it. The Computer Geek did tell me that he was very glad we found each other. I have decided to not put much stock into that comment, but merely enjoy it for what it is.
• Finished off the proper weekend with a wine party. Got home later than planned but we were laughing and having fun. Discovered The Computer Geek sent me a text message somewhere throughout the evening. Bonus that I did not awake with a hangover.
• Earlier today, late morning, I was told The Queen has inoperable brain cancer. 12 months to live. Same brain cancer as Ted Kennedy. My heart is broken. Cue the afternoon's gin.

Which leads us to this very moment. Gin is dry. I need a bit of makeup. Then on out the door to see a few folks, laugh a bit, and remember why I love this place so very much. This life is short.