I had a dream last night (well, this morning really – I didn’t sleep too well) that was … interesting. I was at a gathering, a casual thing, friends and family there, though not mine, but I wasn’t myself, I was a character. I was holding a baby, you know, like when you go to a party and babies get passed around. Well, I was kneeling, holding the baby upright against my shoulder, cradling its head. I don’t know if I needed something or someone else did, but the next thing that happened was a man came up behind me, stood directly behind me. It was clear in dream-world that we were together, but it was a secret, nobody was supposed to know. I remember feeling the stares of the women to my right, three of them, mid-30s, against the wall talking to each other, scandalized. I don’t remember why –either he was married or it was the age thing. Clear as daylight in my dream he appeared like Anthony LaPaglia (I don’t often have dreams so specific, and if they are about a specific person, they never actually look like who they are, I just know who they’re supposed to be). So this man, mid-40s maybe, is standing directly behind me. I can feel the heat of his legs on my back, even though we’re not touching. He looks down at me and smiles, knowingly, communicating something with his eyes I can’t quite explain, and continues about his business, whatever the guise was for coming over (I think there was a table in front of me, maybe with food). I sunk down onto my feet, still holding the baby, and leaned back into his legs. I just reveled in the sensation, the warmth and pleasure of it. At the same time, it felt so wrong, maybe just because we weren’t supposed to be public, for whatever reason. I remember thinking how wrong it felt, but how it didn’t actually feel wrong, that that was something imposed on me by the outside. While it seemed wrong, it felt right, good.

Strange.

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After discovering I hadn’t completely frightened away my… second-date-prospect (no nicknames just yet) with my incredibly lengthy email earlier this week, I got to thinking. Specifically about third dates. I don’t know if I’ve ever really had a third date – they’ve always become boyfriends before that (or ceased to be a possibility). And those two boyfriends – one in high school and one in college – well, things were just different then.

Not dating often, I’m a bit out of the loop, rusty, but I’m pretty sure that on a third date the guy expects a kiss (that was in Hitch, right?). Now, I don’t specifically have a problem with kissing, even though the few I had weren’t terribly good. It’s my assumption that if I was kissing a guy I was actually attracted to, it would be an enjoyable experience. (I haven’t actually had that opportunity, but it looks great on screen and reads well in books.) And I’m guessing it’s not too hard, either, since twelve year-olds can master the art of making out.

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I am, it appears, quite verbose today. I’ve sent multiple emails that were about three times longer than they could/should have been. What’s the deal with that?

I’m on phones here for the next 15 minutes. Why don’t they tell me when I’ll have to cover phones until about 5 minutes before everyone else leaves? I’d like some lead time to mentally prepare, you know?

Got the Access book today. I’ve made it to page 51 now. At 1:30 I was only at 33. So, at this rate, I should finish all 1200 pages… sometime around when I graduate from Hamline. You know, three or four years from now.

Change that. I just finished chapter 2. Yay. My Iced Caramel Macchiato awaits (as gags silently - how can you not like caramel? I just don’t get it).

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The phones keep ringing. Who would call a government agency at 4:59? We don’t answer our phones past 4:30 anyways.

Well, I managed to pass the rest of the afternoon. I was looking into something with the web guys for and it looks as though, if we go that route, I’ll have a big project coming up. At least, hopefully I’ll get to do it. Right now I don’t have enough information or knowledge, so I have an idea of what we could do and how we could do it, but it might not actually work that way at all.

I think I’ll go home and tailor some pants. I took in a pair last week, and then wore them, and then washed them, and all around they turned out good. I’ve got two more pair that can be taken in about 2 inches (I know, I know, feel free to hate me, but you can just blame it on me buying pants that are too big in the first place), and I’m tired of wearing them and feeling like they’re going to fall down.

OK, so the person who keeps calling… another government agency. What do they expect?

I’ve got a patch of peeling skin (like from sunburn) under my watchband. Strange.

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The 2006 Ikea catalogue is out!

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Well, (one of them, the one who gives me work) was been gone yesterday and today, and I am practically dying for some work. If I didn’t have a good book at home to read, perhaps I wouldn’t feel that way. But instead, I’m stuck here, trying to find anything interesting on the internet. I’m pretty apathetic about the possibilities there.

There aren’t even any good people to internet-stalk these days. Very few people aren’t internet-stalkable, I’ve found. I’m not. Surprisingly, is not, but is. (If you knew their actual names, you’d be surprised.) (Side note: I don’t consider someone stalk-able unless I can find something about them within the first five pages of Google.) Even the date from a few weeks ago isn’t. Can’t find him anywhere. Well, not true. One reference. In the entire internet. Nearly 8 million for my first name - last name combination. Include my middle name and you don’t find me at all, within the 7 results that come back. Love that.

The allergic reaction I had last Wednesday is almost all gone. Just the back of my left ankle itched yesterday, and today… nothing. Nevertheless, I will still be shaving for a while before attempting to return to Veet (and will never try Nair again).

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Every once in a while, I run into someone for whom it seems their whole goal in life is to make others smile. Like the bus driver who gave all the women flowers as they exited the bus. Or the guy who walked in a door behind me and asked me if I was a natural redhead and said it was beautiful (no comments on the dye job from the peanut gallery). They’re just little things, but so totally random, and they make me feel special and loved by the universe, if I can say something as nebulous as that. I think it must be really fun to be them, to be such a source of joy for others, to do or say something and see an instant smile on a stranger’s face. Sometimes I’d like to be a person like that. Of course, my fear of strangers and loathing of social interaction in general get in the way of this, but if I were a different person, if I weren’t so shy or socially distant, I would love to make strangers smile.

When and I were in high school, or maybe I had just graduated and she had just finished her freshman year at U of I, we got together weekly at Starbucks to catch up, talk faith, and enjoy the summer. I remember several times, having gotten tired of the air conditioning or perhaps just wanting movement, we’d take our coffee and go walking, usually over a bridge that crossed the Fox River (there are a couple of these in close proximity to the different Starbucks we’d frequent). Being the 17-year-old that I was, I would make the effort to look guys directly in the eyes and smile, taking joy in the fact that they would stand a bit taller, put a bit more in their step, and generally continue on thinking that someone saw something special in them. (This of course being long before the multitude of life experiences that have made eye contact difficult for me.) I loved that. I wasn’t trying to hit on them or even talk to them - I don’t think we ever did. They were just smiles, something that (hopefully) brightened a stranger’s day.

When I worked in San Francisco, I loved serving food at the soup kitchen, especially because it was a comfortable environment to show a stranger unconditional love. I loved teaching the students what to do when delivering meals to AIDS patients or shut-ins, and then watching them go to work at bringing food and love into another’s life. In high school, I used to write letters to some of the girls in the junior high youth group, knowing how special it made them feel to get real mail.

I try to say “Thank You” to my bus driver upon exiting (unless the ride has been particularly horrendous). I’m cordial to the checkout girl (or boy) at Target or the co-op. I say “Thank You” at the end of business phone calls, even when the person has called me. I’m not rude to waiters and waitresses, try not to get upset at the telemarketers who continually call our house looking for the Yangs, and have yet to actually lose my temper at work (though I’ve come very, very close). I know those things matter, but they seem… insignificant when compared to some of the things others do.

What have you done lately to make a stranger smile?

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1. Believing:: hoping
2. Invasion:: home ; of the bodysnatchers
3. Boys:: smile
4. Island:: of the lost…
5. Repeatedly:: ignored
6. Normal:: yech
7. Hex:: -agon
8. Tuxedo:: penguins
9. Virgin:: records
10. Cereal:: Cinnamon Toast Crunch

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Sometimes its the little things you remember most about a person. With , it was his eyes. Sometimes I see them on other people’s faces, and its all I can do to not be instantly transported back to that time, when I was madly in love (and happy about it) with an amazing man, one who saw something special in me, too, even if it wasn’t enough to make him mine. I almost always keep it under control, my reaction to the memories that flood my vision. But sometimes the tidal wave crashes over me, and I am overcome, by emotions, by memories, by what once was, by what never was.

I’m not still in love with him. I may have to remind myself, but its true nonetheless. No, the girl I used to be may still be in love with the boy he used to be, but that doesn’t translate into anything concrete today. There’s not much left of that girl, and I suspect the same is true for him.

When I am overwhelmed by the past, when I am weepy and snotty with sadness, its more for what I don’t have now, mainly people - men specifically - in my life. Its hard to long for a past you never had. What I had with wasn’t what most people would consider a college romance. We never kissed, never held hands, never even got around to the dance I’d promised him at a wedding. Once, and only once, I lay in the crook of his arm watching a movie. Once we had a tickle fight. We had, in the course of our four-year friendship, a handful of dates. A couple of times he sung to me. Two summers I was away and we exchanged letters. Kid-stuff to most people. And maybe it was, but to me it was so much more. I loved him more, and true, than I ever had (and have since). He wasn’t the first boy I thought I could marry, or even the one I got closest to doing so. There was something once-in-a-lifetime about him, and I can’t even put my finger on why. He wasn’t a first - love, kiss, or boyfriend. But man, was he something else.

I wish I had someone like him in my life now. Not like him in the sense of his personality or anything like that. But sometimes you meet people, and from the very first moment you know that they are going to be important, pivotal somehow. And the more you get to know them, the more you understand them and peek into their soul, the more you know how amazing they are and the more you are changed.

I have some amazing friends in my life right now, and a few more I’ve lost touch with but have no doubt I could make one phone call and we’d take up where we left off. I’ve got friends who challenge me, who tell me I’m amazing, who won’t put up with my crap, who see potential I can’t see in myself, who I know would make time for me - even at the drop of a hat - if they knew I needed them, who would take care of me if I got sick or lost my job or needed a place to stay, and even one who’s considered a soul mate (even though she’s married and hopefully I will be someday too - who says your soul mate has to be a romantic partner?). I have friends from a multitude of walks of life, backgrounds, religious beliefs, political affiliations, economic situations, family lives, and geographical locales. I’ve got friends I’ve lost, and while they’ve never been replaced, others have come along to fill the void. About very few people do I truly feel a deep loss when I think about them. ’s one of the few.

I wonder if - well, I wonder a lot of things. It doesn’t hurt, I suppose, but it doesn’t really help either. Some things are better left in the past. I know this. Sometimes I wish I could go back, just for a moment, just to feel that way again, to enjoy the moments I didn’t pay enough attention to first time around. Ah, the luxury of wishful thinking, and of longing.

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After reading this article [link removed] (which I got to through a series of random clicks while surfing one day), I surfed on over to Geek-to-Geek and looked around. I was pleasantly amused by the whole thing, especially having recently professed my attraction to IT guys. So I created a profile and got my matches - a whole 4. Apparently the site hasn’t gotten popular here yet. That’s OK- I was really just interested. I was amused enough to send the link to , who got her whole office searching for their very own geek.

The setup of the site has got me thinking, though. pointed out that there are no pictures anywhere, not even physical descriptions, which is really unusual for a dating website. Is this because geeks are notoriously unattractive, or because geeks don’t care about looks (especially in a partner)? When I met up with someone last week, I had some moments of doubt beforehand, not knowing what he would look like at all, and kinda expecting the worst. Was he doing the same for me? Did he really not care? I know that I do. I mean, looks aren’t everything, obviously, but the do have some bearing on things. OK, so maybe its not exactly looks, but attraction and chemistry, which are less finite and more… nebulous. And based more on personality than just physical beauty is. I’ve known quite a few “beautiful people” (especially in high school) who were horrible people and therefore completely unattractive.

Well, just said I could leave early, so I’m outta here. Have a great weekend! (And , have a great family vacation!)

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I’m not sure how much longer I can stay at work. I don’t think I have the willpower to stop myself from scratching anymore, and if I go home I can put on some Caladryl. Did I mention I have a terrible rash? On the backs of both of my legs. Plus, the skin on the fronts is peeling from the sunburn of 2 weeks ago. Yeah, I’m a mess. I woke up at least twice in the middle of the night to scratch. Benadryl stopped working yesterday, so I haven’t taken any. I did buy some Caladryl and some strong lotion, so the weekend shouldn’t be entirely torturous. Allergic reaction. Don’t worry, I threw the stuff out, so this won’t happen again. But how long until it goes away?

Haven’t seen the parrot man wandering the skyway in quite some time, but today I did see:

• a purple clown (lavendar, really, and she was quite nice to the older woman she passed, commenting on her sequined baseball cap)
• a man applying for a job in Marshall Fields’ who was significantly “prettier” than me. That’s right, pretty. Definitely a metrosexual. He spent more on hair care than I do, and that’s saying something.

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I didn’t really want to talk about this, but if you can’t be giddy on your own blog, where can you be giddy?

He wants to see me again. You know, the guy from Thursday night (though really why I have to specify is beyond me - there aren’t any other guys I’ve dated recently). I was starting to have doubts, that maybe he wasn’t interested or didn’t have a good time and was just faking it or wasn’t attracted or any other of the thousands of things a girl can think when a guy doesn’t call. Not that I was beating myself up over it - it wouldn’t have been the end of the world, and as I told on Saturday, he’d actually be a better fit for her. But for now, it looks like I have the promise of a date, in a little over a month.

In other news, how do you like the new site design? I’m experimenting with layers, and learned a whole lot yesterday. Please let me know if you have trouble with any of the elements (though if you just don’t like how it looks, I really don’t care, because I think it’s pretty). The only thing I really wanted to do that I couldn’t get to happen was an image tiling down the left-hand side. If anyone has any hints on that, I’d be happy to hear them.

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I really don’t feel like blogging (sorry!), but there’s absolutely nothing to do. There’s only so much non-work someone can do before going insane, and I think we’re pushing the limit today.

Before my computer was fully booted, I was done with my work for the day. That’s always promising.

So and I went to a concert down at Sponsels on Saturday night. I won the tickets from CityPages, and was looking forward to the night out. It was Patty Loveless, with Rick Monroe as the opening act. I’ve gotta say, he’s one gorgeous hunk of man. At least, from far off, before I noticed the wedding ring (his sex-quotient dropped significantly with that realization). Patty put on a great show. Attendance was low, so she invited everyone up towards the front of the tent, which was nice. For free tickets, we got to sit in the fifth row, an upgrade even!

It was unbelievably hot on Saturday (Sunday too, I suppose, but I don’t think I left my house on Sunday). The bus was late on Saturday afternoon, so several of us were standing there in the baking sun, nearly dying of heat stroke. Ten extra minutes we waited! It finally cooled down Sunday night, with a brief (but heavy) storm. Yesterday and today have been beautiful, almost legendary. Today’s almost too cool (it’s 79* out… go figure), but the breeze rolls over one’s skin in such an indescribable way.

My Frappuccino has melted almost entirely. I should really finish that before it gets icky.

I’ve been slowly teaching myself Microsoft Access, unfortunately from a ridiculous book written for the 97 version (we’ve got 2002). My boss ordered a new book for me, 1200 pages, and I can’t wait to get it! Just to prove how geeky we are, I told about it and she got excited too.

I haven’t seen in quite a while - how have you been?

While I was out getting my Frappuccino, I stopped to find pretzels, and ended up with a king-size Almond Joy. How does that happen?

Really, really bored. Can you tell?

Anyone need some research done, some internet-stalking, heck, I might even be happy with data entry. Anyone? Bueller?

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1. Tolerate:: family
2. Release:: welcome
3. My soul:: is free
4. Sax:: -ophone
5. HP:: horrible customer service
6. Worth:: value
7. Rockstar:: I wanna be a…
8. Terrify:: satisfy
9. Knock me off my feet:: swoon (deliquesce)
10. Taunt:: dangerous

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Are kinda fun, you know that?

I’m keeping last night to myself, except for a few small details that got me thinking about other things that I want to share.

I had a date last night. I know, big news to keep to myself. I managed to only tell and , and let it slip to one of my bosses (simply because we’re the only ones working today to cover phones and… well, it made sense at the time).

Some shocking revelations, let me tell you. It has been a really long time since I’ve been on a “proper” date. The last official one was… oh, that’s horrifying, summer before junior year of college. and I watched “Saving Private Ryan” as our first date, and then had the second half of it a week later (if you’ve seen the movie, you’ll know how/why that came about) and got ice cream. That might be the last time. I did go out for drinks with a guy when I lived in Michigan, but it doesn’t really count because he lived upstairs in my apartment building and was having a fight with his live-in girlfriend and just wanted to get back at her. There was that guy I met last year sometime, while I was still living with , but really all that happened was he stopped by our place for an hour or so and the three of us talked. So yeah… 1998. That’s so sad.

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