Thursday, July 31, 2008

Losing the shackles

I am bummed – really bummed – that The Athlete is gone. I spoke to him yesterday; he was on a layover at an airport en route to his final destination. I’m filled with just enough regret. I should’ve gone out on Friday. The situation could be so different. But I am also harboring a fair bit of hope. Who knows what the future can bring?

My high school friend, Heather, called me yesterday. She wanted me to join her and a few of her friends for Trivia Night at a bar near our hometown. I told her the story of The Athlete and how I just wanted to pout for a night.

“He’s going to be in Scandinavia,” I whined. “With all of those beautiful Scandinavian girls!”

“But you’re beautiful,” she said. She is never empathetic.

I went to trivia. We did well. It was fun. I was social. And it didn’t even kill me.

We left shortly after 11.

I walked with Heather out to our cars. We walked together between two rows of cars.

Colin was walking, in the opposite direction, between the next rows.

I knew that running into him at that bar was a possibility. I spent a lot of nights with him there. He is at that bar at least three times a week (drinking problem, anyone?). He conducts court with all of his buddies after he leaves work.

He heard my voice. He had to have heard my voice. I was being loud. And my voice carries well.

I got a good look at him when we both crossed through an open part of the parking lot. He stepped out from between cars as I was just stepping behind them. He was looking at his phone. To avoid seeing me? So that I would think that he hadn’t seen me? I’m not sure.

“It’s Colin!” I hissed to Heather.

“Ewww.” Was her response.

I giggled. Shook off the pure terror that had gripped me for a nanosecond. And realized that I didn’t give a shit. I did not want to run after him. I did not wish that he had acknowledged me. I did not want to cry.

Our encounter was over before it started.

I’m done.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008


96% in both of my classes.

No school again until September.


Tuesday, July 29, 2008

This must be a joke

My horoscope in the Detroit News today.
LIBRA: The Love Boat may change its schedule without advance notice and sail without you unless you get up to speed. Because you are so concerned with everything being perfect, you may lose out in the end.

The Athlete's horoscope in the Detroit News today.
AQUARIUS: Spontaneity means speaking from the heart. You may be torn between being compassionate and telling it like it is. Remember not to rock the boat. It is best to simply be someone's best friend.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Edited to add in The Athlete's horoscope. And also to say that he is gone. And my heart hurts a little bit.


The Athlete sent me a text at 12:11 am.

I slept through it.

[He leaves tomorrow. Then we'll be back to our regular schedule of self-loathing, stories about my soccer team and complaints about my job.]

Monday, July 28, 2008

A dose of realism

I saw The Athlete today. First, I saw him playing. OMG. Panty pudding. It was pretty much the hottest thing ever. Love.

Then, I got to actually interact with him. OMG. Awkward. He was picking up a few things from me. We’re in the basement, in the storage room, and he’s like “yeah, so, sorry about the late night phone calls.” And I’m all “oh, it’s sweet. I’ve heard worse.” And then it was just like – yeah.

I sent him a text a few hours later. It just occurred to me that, when you apologized about Friday, I only made it more awkward. So sorry about that. It’s cool. All in good fun. And sorry for being too boring to come out.

I got a somewhat generic, but sweet, response back. And I’m just going to leave it at that.

I don’t want to push it.

I would rather have him not think that I’m a freak, shoot him a few emails while he’s gone and give it a try when he gets home next spring than throw myself at him so that we can have one good night before he’s gone for 8 or 9 months.

And I don’t really want to feel like I’m waiting for him to come home. If he kisses me even once, I know that is exactly what I will do. And I shouldn’t. I waited around for Colin for three years. I’m not doing it again – especially for a boy who it is physically impossible for me to be near for such an incredibly long time. I can’t do that.

So – I will see him tomorrow. And then I will be here and he will be there. He can do what he wants with whomever he chooses. I’ll do what I want with whomever I choose. And, when he gets back from Europe in the springtime, maybe... maybe I’ll see him. And I will be talented and – obviously – adorable. And maybe something will happen.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

No harm done

The fantasy of it was nice. I blogged about The Athlete just after I hung up from the drunk dial. He was sweet. He was charming.

I was a little bit surprised. Things like that don't happen to me. Boys - especially ones who I don't know well - don't tell me that I am adorable. They don't, in surprising detail, tell me the exact moment that they realized that they were attracted to me. It just doesn't happen. Boys don't like me. Or they don't tell me.

I was so giddy yesterday morning. I went to the rink and skated for two hours. I'm not sure that my blades ever touched the ice.

I stopped at the mall on the way home. I had nothing suitable, nothing date worthy, with me at Mom and Dad's to wear if he happened to call. I quickly picked out a few things and then I dashed home.

That lunch date? Didn't happen.

I heard from him via text message later in the day. But he never suggested that we do anything.

It's okay, I guess. What was I expecting? A torrid love affair? First of all, it was a drunk dial. Secondly, he's leaving to work in Europe on Wednesday.

If I wanted anything from this, I should've just gone to see him on Friday night. I should've thrown caution to the wind. For one time in my damn life.

Am feeling a little stupid that I didn't strike while the iron was hot.

Am feeling a little hopeful that something - something small - could still happen. I'll definitely see him at work on Monday and Tuesday.

And I'm feeling grateful that this whole thing happened at all. Because he'll come back eventually. Because I needed a boy at the top of my mind who isn't Colin. Because there's nothing wrong with a little fantasy.

A professional athlete thinks I'm adorable. Tee hee.

Saturday, July 26, 2008


I didn't go out with The Athlete tonight. I needed to help out at Lucy and Chet's. I did. It will be one of those nights we'll remember forever. The First Night At Your First House.

There were a few text messages exchanged with The Athlete. He told me where his entorage was was drinking. I played like I was considering going once I left Lucy's house. When it got to that time, I politely pulled myself out of the running. Too tired. Too gross from manual labor. Have fun without me.

We exchanged a few other text messages in which he further attemped to convince me. I went to bed.

Only to be awoken by a phone call. Him. Drunk dial.

Come and hang out with me. I couldn't tell you how many times he asked.
You're adorable. He said it at least 20 times.
I decided that you were cute when you would look at me and give me that little half smile. Almost arrogant.

I refused to see him tonight. I'm at Mom and Dad's. He's over by my house. I told him that I was getting up early. He said that he was, too. I told him that I would clear my calendar for any other time. He proposed lunch tomorrow. And then asked me, again, to see him tonight.

He leaves for Europe on Wednesday, people. Wednesday.

Oh, the timing. Damnit.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Miracle of the week

I just got asked out by a boy. (!!!)

A boy who plays a sport professionally. (!!!!!!!)

Sure, he plays in Europe. Sure, it was more of a group thing than a hot date. Sure, I had to say no (sob) because I already promised Lucy and Chet that I would help with their house tonight.

(Am I not the best friend EVER?)

But it was nice.

Me. A professional athlete. Hahahahaha.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

It doesn't feel like 7 months

It just occurred to me, while I was downstairs folding laundry, that Colin has never been to this house.

He doesn't know that I have a new cellphone.
Or a tattoo.
That Meg is done with school.
How long my hair has gotten.

He was with me during my first semester of graduate school. I have just finished my third.

I haven't had any contact with him since the very end of May.

And then it occurred to me that Colin had never been to my old apartment, either. ...the one I lived in for two years in which we were always on and off.

And then it occurred to me that I'm probably better off.

Selfish fucking asshole.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Babbling at its finest

I can't get up off of the couch. My night will be deemed a success if I don't fall asleep here.

Jon and Kate Plus Eight is on. My brain is off.

I'm done with classes. My Tuesday professor decided that we wouldn't meet next week. We took our oral final exam (one silly question - I didn't do that well) last night. I took my other final exam tonight. And now I am free.

I have five weeks off, I think. My grand plans consist of going to the gym more, reading a book or two and watching season four of Grey's Anatomy once it comes out on DVD.

Did I mention that Lucy and Chet bought a house? They got the keys earlier this week. I'm really excited for them. A tad jealous, yes, but mostly excited.

I'm going over to help paint on Friday night. I've never really painted before. I haven't told Lucy that just yet.

I need to go to the grocery store.
I need to go to the bank.
I need to figure out my financial aid for next semester.

My mom is wearing a heart monitor. She's still having episodes. I wish the doctors could figure out the source of her problem.

I am feeling really sick of my hair. It is totally long. Sort of hot. But I'm 25. And my hair is parted down the middle 75% of the time. I feel like TV cameras are going to come crashing in to give me a makeover at any moment.

Anna is gone for the weekend - camping with her boyfriend. Having a boyfriend sounds like fun. Camping does not. I like hotels.

I love Greek yogurt.

Monday, July 21, 2008

What a difference a few hours make

I wouldn't dare blog at 5:15 this afternoon, just as I wouldn't dare call anyone. I was hanging precariously from the end of my rope, blinking back tears and staring into an infinite abyss.

At 5:15, I was finishing up a workday that I simply cannot describe. I don't have enough negative words in my vocabulary. That is how good it was.

I needed to stay for two more hours if I wanted to make even the slightest dent into what I needed to get done, like, three weeks ago.

Instead, I left. To the library. To work on a project. Due tomorrow. The largest chunk of my grade. Not even half done.

First, I stopped at Chipotle for vegetarian burrito brain food. Then, I banished myself to the library.

It is quite amazing.

I left the library with a new lease on life. Yes, my job still blows. And I still have a few finishing touches for the project.

But it is my last assignment. And tomorrow is my penultimate class.

So I guess I'll just be grateful for The Great Homework Miracle of 2008.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Dear Neighbors: hate hate hate

Anna and I rent an adorable flat. Below us lives a couple. They're nice enough. They coach youth sports for a living, so it sort of seems like they're always there. During the day when Anna is home. In the evenings when I'm home.

What I'm getting at is this: I'm not sure they ever work.

And they have a housekeeper. But that is another story.

Today's story is about The Battle of the Lawn.

It is a lack of a battle, actually, and that is why I am so bitter.

Because our landlord is totally hosing all of us, both flats are responsible for mowing the lawn and shoveling the snow. I always though that it was curious, through the winter, that Anna or I always got to the snow first. Even though they were always home.

I continue to think that it is curious that, at this point into the summer, they have not mowed the lawn once.

For real. And they are home all of the damn time.

I got back tonight from my soccer game, exhausted and dehydrated, and I tried (unsuccessfully) to start the mower. Pulled a muscle in my back. Wanted to fall to the ground and throw a temper tantrum.

Instead, I went inside and wrote a cheerful and polite note - pointing out that we've mowed the lawn for the first half of the summer and suggesting that they take over the duty in the second half - that I'll stick on their door tomorrow morning (they're never up when I'm getting ready for work).

It isn't like they don't know that we're doing it.

I totally caught the chick peeking out the window at me the last time I mowed the lawn.

I really should have thrown a rock at her.

Friday, July 18, 2008

I heart work email (part 1)

From: Darren
Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 1:57 PM
To: Alyson

I need help planning a party

Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 1:58 PM
To: Darren

Keys to a good party:
1. Cupcakes
2. Confetti
3. Streamers
4. GHB

From: Darren
Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 2:17 PM
To: Alyson

5. Hard Liquor to disguise the GHB in

Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 2:23 PM
To: Darren

Good call! You have obviously done this before!

1. Cupcakes
2. Confetti
3. Streamers
4. GHB
5. Hard Liquor to disguise the GHB in
6. 1-3 sketchy dudes
7. 2-5 easy girls
8. Karaoke machine
9. Pudding

From: Darren
Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 2:55 PM
To: Alyson

15. a game that involves spinning a bottle and making out with the person it lands on, in the closet

whats the bucket for?

Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 2:56 PM
To: Darren


I will definitely add it to the list.

Buckets can come in handy for a variety of reasons.

Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 3:37 PM
To: Darren

1. Cupcakes
2. Confetti
3. Streamers
4. GHB
5. Hard Liquor to disguise the GHB in
6. 1-3 sketchy dudes
7. 2-5 easy girls
8. Karaoke machine
9. Pudding
10. Psychedelics
11. A lava lamp
12. One person that nobody really likes
13. A minimum of one (1) game that involves heavy drinking as a requirement for success
14. A bucket
15. a game that involves spinning a bottle and making out with the person it lands on, in the closet
16. A location with little or no parental supervision
17. Hot tub and/or steam room
18. Ethnic food, preferably Mexican or Korean
19. A minimum of one person who knows the Heimlich maneuver
20. Pogo stick

From: Darren
Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 3:39 PM
To: Alyson

whats the pogo stick for

Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 3:40 PM
To: Darren

Oh, you know. Fun and stuff.

From: Darren
Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 3:47 PM
To: Alyson

yeah...I do know.

Our party also needs a theme???

Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 3:49 PM
To: Darren

Theme ideas:
1. Mexican hat dance
2. Field of Dreams
3. Armed forces

From: Darren
Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 3:55 PM
To: Alyson


I was thinking...Naughty Nurses

From: Darren
Sent: Tuesday, July 08, 2008 3:57 PM
To: Alyson

I was thinking MY MOM IS A NURSE and also YOU ARE A PERV.

Medical dramas and other thrills

It is 9,007 degrees here in southeastern Michigan and I don’t have air conditioning.

I didn’t change my clothes when I got home from the gym yesterday. Why change out of sweaty clothes just to sweat through another outfit? I bumbled around in a humidity-induced haze. Ate some Indian food. Packed up what I would need for my weekend (I am going to Mom and Dad’s where they have: a. air conditioning and b. a lake). Watched Grey’s, followed by Hopkins, which I had to try really hard not to weep through because that baby was so. sweet. Oh, and his personality! Bubbly little guy. And he needed a heart transplant. And his mom put her head on her husband and sobbed. There was also an old man with bleeding in his brain because of a fall. They told his wife. She cried. I cried.

I seriously should not be allowed to watch medical dramas, real or fictional.

After the sobfest, I took a shower and went the hell to bed.

Am feeling much better than I did yesterday.

Am looking forward to the weekend. Plans include (but are not limited to):
-Movie date with Lucy and Colleen
-A lesson with my skating coach
-Balancing my checkbook and paying bills
-Golfing with Meg and my dad
-A trip to GAP
-5:00 pm soccer game on Sunday
-Starting, and getting dangerously close to finishing, the final project I have due for class on Tuesday
-Painting my nails
-Baking something, probably muffins

I would like to hammer out my schoolwork at the Hatcher Graduate Library, which happens to be situated right in the middle of the Ann Arbor Art Fairs. So I guess I’ll get in a little bit of culture and a whole lot of people watching.

And if I get really lucky, a parking ticket, too.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

All rung out

I have been running. Literally, physically, running around my office since last Wednesday. My boss found out – pretty much on the most inopportune week of the year – that his stepmother (who has been very ill for months) wouldn’t likely live through the weekend. He took off to Manitoba. And left me here, trying to navigate the first of five insanely hectic weeks. All on my own.

I am doing okay. I am getting everything done. I am running down the hallways so quickly that office doors turn into a blur. But I’m keeping my head above water.

This morning, I hit the wall. I’ve been mostly comatose since I have been here. I’m still getting work done. It is just so. damn. hard. It is hot out. I went to bed too late last night. And I’m worn out from all of these hoops that I’m jumping through.

I want to sit at my desk and read blogs. I want to each chocolate out of the candy dish. And I want to go home.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Just the truth, pretty much

Today I applied for a job that I have no chance of getting.

My qualifications fit the position pretty well, actually. And, since the job was just posted yesterday, I expect it to be received in the first batch of applications.

Still, I probably have no chance of getting the job because I have had absolutely crap luck in finding a new job. And this one really interests me. And is in a great location. And would really mesh well with what I am studying in graduate school.

So I won't even get a call. Probably not even a rejection letter.

I'm just not good at this. Finding a new job. I don't know why (surely it isn't my obscenely expensive yet useless liberal arts education!) I'm quite so bad. But at this point it is pretty much past denial.

I suck at getting a job. The end.

Normally, I'm not quite such a pessimist. I happen to really like that honeymoon period in which I apply for a job and then spend the next 7-10 days dreaming of putting in my two weeks notice. It's that deafening silence that follows that nearly kills me.

This time around, I'll go into this absolutely sure that I won't get so much as a phone interview.

Maybe I can be pleasantly surprised.

If not? Well, it was what I expected.

Monday, July 14, 2008

The big reveal

Awkward, in the mirror, trying not to twist, just home from the gym and the library shot of my ink.

So there you go.

Sunday, July 13, 2008


Freedom: On Friday evening, I went golfing with my dad and Meg. I'm an awful golfer, but I am enjoying the learning process. Maybe golf lessons this winter? I think it may be wise to receive instruction from someone other than my father.

Sometime during our round, it occurred to me that I didn't have my phone with me. And it occurred to me that, had it been last summer, I wouldn't have left the car without it. Every 5 or 10 minutes, I would have checked my phone. Waiting for Colin to make me a priority.

As nice as it felt when he did, I'm not missing when he didn't. I don't mind not letting someone else make me feel like crap.

Momma: So, my mom is still having problems with her heart. She has episodes when her heart rate gets all out of whack. They're coming more frequently. While her cardiologist originally said that her heart looks good and she's young and there's nothing wrong with it, she's going back in on Wednesday. I would be lying if I didn't say that I'm afraid.

It means nothing: I spent a nice bulk of last night texting with that cute coworker Darren.

As I don't know when enough is enough: Am attempting to determine whether I should take three classes in the fall semester or three classes in the winter semester. It would be nice to get it over in the fall. But waiting until the winter would give me two "regular" classes and my internship, where I would just have to work 130 hours. I wouldn't be balancing three classes with homework. I suppose that makes more sense.

Bedtime: Quickly approaching. I am an old lady, yes, but I was also out until nearly 2:00 yesterday morning (it was a very interesting evening) and recently ran the shit out of myself at our soccer game (a satisfying 5-0 victory).

There aren't many things in this world that I love as much as I love sleep.

Friday, July 11, 2008


I had a hankering for a mocha from Tim Horton's this morning.

The craving, no doubt, had something to do with the soccer game I played in last night. I was (am, actually) drained.

I walked up to the door at the same time as another woman. I pulled the door open for her.

"Oh, bless you! I just worked 12 hours."

She was wearing scrubs. "Where at?" I asked. I knew that it wasn't at Anna's hospital - she wasn't wearing their uniform.

"Receiving." Detroit Receiving Hospital. Quite the place. I think it may have been featured on Trauma: Life in the ER. I think that a lot of the big trauma cases and gunshot wounds and whatnot get brought straight there.

I checked out her badge. RN.

She told me a little about her schedule (she's contracted to work every weekend). I told her that I lived with Anna, who is just finishing up with her first year of nursing school. I told her that my mom was a nursing professor.

"And you're not a nurse?" She said this with a bit of surprise in her voice. "Why didn't you become a nurse, too?"

I was (am, actually) afraid of the math that it would require. "But, you never know, nursing school could be in the cards for me one day!"

"Well, you look like a nurse."

I don't know what a nurse looks like, exactly, but it was the biggest compliment that I've gotten in a long time.

I'm not sure that there's another group of people I respect as much as I respect nurses.

It was fun, driving to work, to think about going to nursing school. It is always an option, I guess, if the library gig doesn't work out. Especially since I could go tuition-free at my mom's school. I doubt it will ever happen.

I look like a nurse.

That was sweet of her to say.

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

Sign of the Apocalypse

Yesterday I figured a math problem using cross multiplication.

You would have to know how ridiculously pathetic I am at math to really understand why this should really blow your mind. So just trust me on this one.

Tuesday, July 08, 2008


I left work late yesterday, which sort of sucks but will likely be my reality for the next six weeks or so.

I went straight to the gym. Going home before going to the gym isn't an option these days. I'm making it work.

I have my card swiped. I eat a handful of trail mix while I walk into the locker room. I open my bag.

And I have no pants.

I zip up my bag. I leave the gym. I go to Target. I need a few bags of chocolate; the communal candy jar at work was empty and I felt obligated to make a donation.

At Target, I realize that I can buy a pair of pants. Or shorts. Or a skort.

I try some on. Like nothing. Buy nothing.

Nothing suitable. To workout in. At Target.

Moral of the story: I didn't want to work out too badly.

Monday, July 07, 2008

Save My Stomach

I am in this spectacular rut where, every morning at approximately 7:30, I stand in my kitchen and stare blankly into my refrigerator.

What’s for lunch?

I have no ideas. No inspiration. All I am capable of is looking into my refrigerator and turning up my nose at every option inside.

I am so over it.

Here is what I like: something I can put together the night before, something I can make in big batches and eat all week, something reasonably healthy, something other than a can of soup or a frozen meal and something that will fill me up.

If you have any tasty alternatives to pouting into the refrigerator for 10 minutes and then rushing to grab something that isn’t really all that appetizing, I’m all ears.

Sunday, July 06, 2008


Dear Powers that Be,

Is there any way we can get this weekend extended? I'm not quite ready for the fun to stop.

Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns.


Saturday, July 05, 2008

Three cheers for last minute gifts

I had an unusually difficult time picking out a birthday present for Meg this year.

It is because I had already bought her part of a present (a Spanish national team soccer jersey) and I needed something else.

Knowing how much she loves to play SingStar with her roommates - and on account of the fact that she just got a Play Station so that she can play Guitar Hero - I picked her up SingStar Amped (the rock version).

SingStar, for those of you who might not know, is basically video game karaoke. You have microphones. You get "judged" on your pitch. And you're singing along to popular songs.

So that's what I get her.

She hooks it up shortly after opening her birthday presents, and all hell breaks loose. My dad's family is, like, clamoring for the microphones. Every single one of them thinks that they're a damn rock star.

I had to go out to Target to buy SingStar 90s.

I don't think I've ever laughed so hard. My mom and my aunt singing David Bowie's Changes? Seriously?

The only way it would've been better is if there was a SingStar Broadway verson.

Friday, July 04, 2008

Three whole days

I am PUMPED about this three day weekend. Seriously pumped. Since it is unlikely that my boss will approve a day off between now and the bitter end of August, I'll love up this weekend with all I've got.

Last night, the family went to dinner at The Melting Pot. Hi - YUM. I hadn't been there before. But it seriously made me happy. And full.

Today, we're having Meg's birthday party. Both sides of the family will come over. Some family friends will stop by. Fun will be had. Sparklers will be lit. Fourth of July with a birthday twist. I can't complain. Except maybe when I remember what I was doing last Fourth of July, which was sitting by the pool in Vegas at Mandalay Bay.

Meg, our cousin Liz and I have an appointment for massages early tomorrow afternoon. I can't fricking wait.

Tomorrow night, a bunch of Meg's friends and a bunch of my friends are going out to celebrate Meg's birth, Meg's new job, Meg's ability to get herself dressed each day, etc.. Should be fun.

On Sunday, I think I'll recover. And maybe do some homework.

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

My favorite

Happy Birthday, Sweet Meggie. I'm glad you were born.

10 Things I Love About Meg

10. Her penchant for brutal honesty
9. She is my dad's twin
8. She is always up for eating
7. She knows who she is
6. She knows what she wants
5. She has confidence in spades
4. She is always surprising me
3. How much she adores animals, especially our pets
2. Her laugh
1. She's my sister

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Attempting to pinpoint

It must be the older sibling in me. Despite each and every one of my personality traits pushing me in the other direction, I am fairly independent. I have lived alone, traveled alone, moved to strange places (Pennsylvania one summer in college, Denver after I graduated from college) alone, I have gone to movies alone, I have shopped alone. I'm not one of those girls who needs a sidekick for each and every activity.

The majority of the time, I still feel like I am one big pussy. But I do have guts. I just do my best to convince myself otherwise.

I have guts and, of course, I suspect that may be my problem.

Last week, a coworker told me that I would never get married because I intimidate and scare off all of the boys.

When I told my mom, she agreed.

She agreed. She agreed that there is something about me that is inherently not marriageable.

That I scare the boys away because I am...what?

Too independent? When my coworker said that I intimidate all of the boys, I am sure that he was not talking about my looks. My job. My alcohol tolerance. The purse that I carry. My athletic prowess.

To this coworker, I am sure that I come off as self sufficient, stubborn, willing to tell people exactly what I think. I come across that way in the workplace; I work with a bunch of jocks that would totally take advantage of my otherwise. But, unless it is somehow visible beneath my shyness, I remain unconvinced that it is the trait that is scaring off the suitors.

How do they know that I have no problem taking care of myself? That I am strong on my own? That I would love that perfect boyfriend or husband but don't feel that I need one to be complete?

Do I have to be vulnerable? Do I soften up my personality - tease less and bat my eyelashes more? Do I reinvent myself? Do I act?

And when do I let me out?

Sometimes I think that is what went wrong with me and Colin. Too much me.
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