Walking With Nora

I can’t believe that I’m already posting my May Obsessions. MAY. This year is flying by in a blink of an eye. The last month has been incredible in many ways, leaving me with several new obsessions….

* Liberty of London. I’m pretty much a Target-holic: I can’t help but shop there. I recently purchased a new comforter by Liberty of London and now my bed is not only summerized (my other comforter was much too heavy) it’s also newly stylized. I love coming home after work and melting onto my bed for a few minutes to unwind, read a few pages of my book, or cuddle with Jack. Plus the look is chic and a little bit hippie at the same time. (And no, I wasn’t paid or compensated in anyway to write about Liberty of London. I just love their prints and fabrics.)

* Old Friendships. In the last few weeks I’ve been hanging out with friends from college, immediate post-college, my fellow “internuts” and even high school friends. There’s something to be said about a friendship if you can pick up right where you left off after not seeing each other for awhile. These are the people who truly understand me. These are the people who don’t judge me. It’s incredibly refreshing and makes me glad for keeping in touch with these people throughout the years.

* Leaving the house without my Blackberry. Shocking, isn’t it? Lately if I know I won’t need my cell phone, I leave it at home. Going out with friends and family, or even myself, sans Crackberry is so liberating. No blinking red light, no emails that need to be checked. I find myself more in the moment, less worried about what’s going on in the various social media sites, embracing the experiences and conversation around me. Try it sometime. It’s really fantastic.

* The Sex and the City 2 Soundtrack. Well, I don’t own it yet but I will. This show has always been more than just pop culture to me; it was a show my mom introduced me to, a show we watched together, talked about the fashion, the universality of love, dating, relationships, friendships and much more. I’ll soon post about the movie-going experience but suffice to say the songs in the movie are just as awesome as the first.

* Family Time. I’m sure I’ve said it before but my family rocks. Between a luxurious Mother’s Day, my brother coming home for a few weeks in between spring and summer semesters, celebrating my dad’s 60th birthday, and all the fun moments interspersed throughout the month, it’s just too fun. More often than not we wind up laughing hysterically, bonding over a healthy debate, or just relaxing. My brother heads back to school after Memorial Day and it’s going to be a tough adjustment. Kind of love having him around.

* This Picture. I know it just happened last week but I freakin’ love this picture that the talented EP took. When we first got in the elevator, the first thing she said was “we need an elevator picture before the weekend is over.” She was right!

Did you discover any new obsessions in the last month? Any musicians/movies/product I must try? Or perhaps you did something in May that you vow not to repeat in June? Either way, do tell!

It’s taken me awhile to get this final installment of my Top Three Dating Disasters because I have so many of them, it’s tough to choose just one that’s the absolute worst. As far as I’m concerned I have three that tie for first place. I’ll let you be the judge as to which one is the worst.

Worst Date Ever #1: A dude that I met through work. Intelligent, a go-getter, similar interests. First few dates were uneventful until the fourth. He suggested I choose the restuarant and considering Mexican is my favorite food and usually perfect for a date, I choose one of the best in StL. When I share my choice with the dude, he starts cursing, telling me he won’t take me to that f*ng restaurant because it’s the worst and how dare I ask him to take me to that f*ng place. Under no circumstances will he take me to that restaurant ever. After his very loud, very sudden outburst, we venture to another Mexican restaurant where I have a serious allergic reaction to guacamole (the first time that ever happened to me). A week later he shows up to my office to tell me that he was “kidding” when he cursed at me about my choice of Mexican restaurants. Never heard from him again.

Worst Date Ever #2: This dude was a painter and single father. After a few dates, I attended his work party with him. Evidently this guy decided to tell his friends that I was a rich bitch (how polite of him) and not one single person would speak to me all night. The party was one of those free food and drink deals, so I started throwing back a few beers, watching the baseball game and just relaxing (as much as possible). After the work party, we went to another bar to meet up with a friend of his. Dude decided to ditch and left me sitting with his friend who immediatley began to interrogate me about my intentions, quizzing me about my ability to raise a child, hammering me with questions about my domestic abilities and threatening to make my life miserable if I didn’t treat his friend well. If I had my own car, I would have up and left but sadly I was stuck waiting for dude. When he dropped me off, he had the audacity to ask if he could “get some.” I should mention that when we left for this date, a black crow ran smack dab into the windshield. Next time I’ll pay more attention to the omen.

Worst Date Ever #3: Blind First Date. Innocent dinner at Cheesecake Factory. He sports a popped collar, leans across the table and tells me that he wants to “eat me up.” Takes a bathroom break but not before talking to the waitress and telling her that I’m not allowed to leave. He literally runs back to the table to make sure I’m at the table. Proceeds to drown me in text messages that night, greeting ecards the following days and reminding me that he wants “devour me.”

You be the judge! Which date do you think is the worst and should receive the title of Nora’s Top Dating Disaster?

The lovely Ashley invited me to be a part of the Slowreaders Forum earlier this year. The premise is simple: love books, read books, discuss books. I joined just in time to vote on the next book: Alice I Have Been, by Melanie Benjamin.

Synopsis of the book from Publisher’s Weekly, as seen on Amazon:

Benjamin draws on one of the most enduring relationships in children’s literature in her excellent debut, spinning out the heartbreaking story of Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Her research into the lives of Charles Dodgson (aka Lewis Carroll) and the family of Alice Liddell is apparent as she takes circumstances shrouded in mystery and colors in the spaces to reveal a vibrant and passionate Alice. Born into a Victorian family of privilege, free-spirited Alice catches the attention of family friend Dodgson and serves as the muse for both his photography and writing. Their bond, however, is misunderstood by Alice’s family, and though she is forced to sever their friendship, she is forever haunted by their connection as her life becomes something of a chain of heartbreaks. As an adult, Alice tries to escape her past, but it is only when she finally embraces it that she truly finds the happiness that eluded her. Focusing on three eras in Alice’s life, Benjamin offers a finely wrought portrait of Alice that seamlessly blends fact with fiction. 

At first I was apprehensive as I’m not usually a huge fan of historical fiction but this book changed all my views of historical fiction. It’s not soley about facts and truths but about what went on behind the scenes, what caused the facts that we know to be true. This is when the author takes creative license and liberty since we have no idea what really happened between Dodgson and the Liddell family. Benjamin carefully weaves friendship and passion, responsibility and expectations, preconceived notions and the truth throughout the course of this book. Benjamin is brave in this novel; Dodgson’s character borders on being an utter creep (old dude who enjoys taking pictures of young women) yet at times he seems like a sweet doting uncle.

I walked away from this book with a better understanding of the expectations of a woman during the Victoria era in all senses: fashion, family responsibility, education, recreation, love and romance in the Victorian era. I laughed. I cried. I turned the pages of this book into the wee hours of the night, took this book everywhere I went and have it now stored safely and proudly on my bookshelves. This is one I definitely want to read again, perhaps after reading the works of Lewis Carroll.

Ever since I went to the Vegas Blogger Meet-Up last year, I had planned on going again. Until I decided to train for a race (that I can no longer run). What does this have to do with Vegas you ask? Every time I go to Vegas I get sick. Like high fever, stuck in bed, riddled with pain sick. Blame the lack of sleep, the alcohol, the second hand smoke, whatever you want, but it  happens. I wasn’t about to go to Vegas to a) attempt to get in my final training run and b) come back sick and not be able to run after all that training. Not sure when I became an adult, but that last sentence proves I have (at least in some ways). Joke was on me I guess since I’m not able to run thanks to the knee situation and by the time that was evident, tickets to Vegas were over $500. So due to finances and stupid non-races, Vegas was out for me this year.  

And thus a new plan was born: Indianapolis with four other lovely ladies, each having similar reasons for not being able to go to Vegas. A radtrip, if you will (thanks, Renee, for the term radtrip).

A radtrip which included conversations like this one:

Ashley: What would you do if you saw Justin Timberlake?
Me: Marry him.
Renee: Lick him.
Ashley: What would that taste like?
Me (without pausing): SEX.
Renee: … or strawberries and swagger.

A radtrip which included me ordering a “family of fries” at the Mug n’Bun, a fabulous drive-in root beer and food stand, with each french fry receiving it’s own characteristic: baby, liverspotted, osteoporosis. A fried food fail since we barely touched our food. The root beer was amazing and a bonus: free bumper stickers.

A radtrip where we posed with Barbie while working on our Barbie Faces, traveled to Egypt, to the land of Star Wars, and back to the Dinosaur era all thanks to the Children’s Museum. Where we fell in love with When Eddie Met Salad, a fabulous salad and wrap restaurant that I really wish we had in StL.

A radtrip that had us (accidentally) evading a security doorman, getting manicures and pedicures at Spa in the City, complete with mimosas and other beverages, laughing with the nail technicians and coming out relaxed, girlie and ready for our tapas dinner at BARcelona where we managed to enjoy tapas and sangria for less than $10 per person.

A radtrip that I was sad to see come to a close, but so thankful that we all loitered at the brunch table at Cafe Patachou this morning far too long, none of us ready to part ways and drive our four and a half hours back to our cities.

Each night we stayed up later than the last, eyes barely open, sharing, emptying our hearts, opening our minds, remembering, hoping, dreaming, planning, until we couldn’t take it anymore. We woke up six hours later each time and started it all over again.

Simply put: this weekend was just I needed and I think just what we all needed. Old fashioned slumber party style sleeping, giggles when the lights went out, eating junk food for breakfast, and laughing… a lot.  This is what blogging has done for me. This is why I can’t wait for more meet-ups and trips in the future. This is the stuff friendships, bonds and memories are made of.

Today is my dad’s 60th Birthday.

I know him as the dad who bought me my favorite Christmas stocking (to this day) with his last dollar when I was less than one year old.

The dad who has switched jobs several times in life, all in pursuit of making a better life for the family.

The dad who, after my first break up, stood up and proclaimed “I’m going over there.” The man who still offers to “talk” to the men who break my heart even though I’m 26.

The dad who carpools with me a few times a week to save me gas money so that I can save as much money for my future home as possible.

The dad who loves my dog Jack as though he was his grand-dog-baby.

The dad who can read my mind, word for word, at any given time. (This can be both good and bad.)

The dad who has taught me to be a compassionate yet firm businesswoman.

The dad who encourages me from the sidelines time and time again, letting me fall if I must, but always picking me back up and setting me on the right course.

The dad who treats my mother so well, I’ve got a view of what I want my future relationship(s) to look like and I refuse to settle. (I suppose this could be both and good bad too!)

The dad who leaves funny comments on this blog, taught me what real music is, bought me my first car, hurried my moving into my first college dorm because he didn’t want me to see him cry, who treats the family to Mexican after a grueling day at the office, who was happy to partake in the Father/Daughter Dance for my Brownie troop, who taught me how to play catch, who is the best father I could ever ask for.

Happy Birthday, Dad. I love you.

{You’d think I’d have a recent photo of my father and me, but I don’t. I guess I should work on that. Or borrow a few from my mom.}

If you’re looking for more of my writing, check me out at Kyla’s blog today. I share some of my hopes and goals for this summer.
Come back Friday for the final installment of the Dating Disasters!

Dear Father Time,

Any chance you could slow down? Weekends go by in a blink of an eye. Four years goes to fast: it seems like just yesterday I was standing next to my best friend from college during her wedding and on Saturday we celebrated her first baby. I can’t handle the time warped speeds that life seems to be going at these days.

Sincerely,
Not a Time Traveler

Attention: Grad School Professors
From: Nora, Dedicated Student
Re: Final Grades

I did the work you asked me to do well within the parameters of the semester. I understand you have other finals to grade, but could you please post our final grades already? The suspense is killing me.

Dear Rain Clouds,
Go away. Seriously. Disregard anything I’ve previously said about loving rain on this here blog because right now I want you to just disappear. I can’t mow the lawn. I can’t take Jack for long walks. The construction on my parents’ house can’t start as long as your around. Just shoo!

Respectfully,
One Tired Rain Lover

Dear Self,

It’s technically your “summer” break. Two weeks of glorious no homework, no quiz, no test days. Take advantage of it.

Yours Truly,
Your Inner Overacheiver

Dear Movie Makers,
Could we maybe spend a little more time on creating original scripts than doing remakes? Is it really necessary to remake movies that already rocked (I’m looking at you, Robin Hood)? I’d like a little more creativity and originality at the box office this summer.

Yours,
Bored with the Box Office

To: Food Allergies
From: One Fed-up Nora

It’s about time you go away. I’ve had enough of having to monitor my food for “poison.” I’m craving cantelope and bananas, raw carrots and broccoli. I’d much rather not have to carry a big purse with me everywhere I go to accommodat the Epi-Pen or panic if I think I’ve ingested something that could kill me. It’s been three years. Shouldn’t you be moving along by now?

Dear Target,

Thank you for having such adorable sandals and flats this season. At $15 a pair they don’t break the bank and they make my outfits that much more adorable.

With Love,
Addicted to Shoes

To All the Lovely Men & Women Going to Vegas this weekend:

Have a lovely time. I’m sorry I won’t get to be there this year but count me in for next year! Enjoy the experience, the comraderie, the hugs, newfound friendships, epic-ness that is the blogging world. Just promise you won’t forget me while you’re partying it up Vegas-style.

Love always,
Nora

It’s time for the second installment of Nora’s Dating Disasters. Today I give you bad date number two…

Backgrounder: I went to a Big 12 School that was 25,000 students strong in the undergraduate category alone and boasted over 26 fraternities and sororities. I rushed as a freshman, joined, but wasn’t feeling it so before initiation I decided to bow out, save some money but managed to be very good friends with a lot of fabulous ladies. It wasn’t uncommon for me to be approached each fall and spring to donate blood. I’d willing do so to save a life or two, help a friend out, and for the shirt. If you didn’t get a Greek Week Blood Drive shirt you might as well have moved in with the guys from the Big Bang Theory. (Looking back I can’t believe what a big deal we all made about the blood drive shirts. It was just a cotton shirt with a different design on each semester.). Anyway.

Freshman year, spring semester, I’m giving blood with my friend MD to benefit her sorority. She gets put at a stretcher across the huge gym from me and for whatever reason this time I’m around I’m not feeling well. At all. Evidently I looked pretty pale as they took me to the “special” section inside the gym and next thing I know this dude is chatting with me, keeping my mind off the blood situation and I start to feel better. Dude sticks with me through the entire donation process and even to the food station, making sure I’m okay. Turns out he’s a friend of MD’s boyfriend.

I don’t know what it is about me and sinus infections and first dates, but they tend to coincide a lot. I get sick a few days after giving blood as I always did (I don’t give blood anymore because I always got wickedly sick each time) but this guy was an upperclassman and was taking me on a Real.Date. Like dinner at a non-chain restaurant kind of date. Pick me up at the dorm room door kind of date. So I go.

He plans the date: Dinner at some steakhouse and the comedy club that’s in town. No need to worry that I’m a minor, his fraternity “runs” the comedy club and the bouncer will get me in, he says. We’re at dinner and it’s going well until, without asking, he picks up half of my sandwich on my plate and starts eating it. This is after he ate his steak and potatoes, mind you. After taking a huge bite of my sandwich, he asks if I mind. What was I going to do, ask him to spit it out? Then he proceeds to eat the rest of my fries. 

At this point, I’m thankful there will be beer at the Comedy Club.

True to his word, I get in the Comedy Club that his fraternity “runs,” we get seated at the table in the front of the room, and start to enjoy a beer or two. The lights go dim. He starts to play footsie with me under the table, which then turns into his foot on my calf, and then his foot on my thigh. I don’t like feet even if they are in a shoe or sock. Grosses me out. He grabs my hands, asks me if I’ve been to comedy before. I say no at which point he says “I’m so glad I’m the one popping your comedy club cherry,” and he squeezes my  hand. He was dead serious too.

I hung out with him a few more times knowing first dates are supremely awkward, even comedy club cherry awkward, but it didn’t get better.

However, cut to three months later, when I run into this dude on the quad. “So, Nora. I’ve lost about 25 pounds since I last saw you. How do you like me now? Wanna date me now that I’ve lost weight? I know you’re the kind of girl who only dates skinny guys. I just know it. Well, too bad, you can’t have this.” And then he took off running so I couldn’t even tell him he was wrong.

Funny how I never, ever thought he needed to lose 25 pounds, nor did I say anything to him, or anyone who knew him, for that matter, about his “weight.”

And that’s the second worst date I’ve been on for it’s supreme awkardness, the fact that the dude ate my food, using the words “popped” and “cherry” on the first day and accused me of only liking skinny guys.

* DD= Dating Disaster

Today’s post is inspired by Amy; it’s surprisingly comforting to hear of other bad dating experiences. At one time in the past many of these stories were documented on my old blog which has since been deleted. Without further ado, here’s the third most awful date I’ve ever been on…

Back in 2006 after a particularly rough break-up and equally rough healing process, I decided to give online dating a shot. Match.Com, Yahoo Personals and eHarmony, just to name a few. I met this dude through Match.Com, the emails flowed well, the phone conversations went great and thus we decided to meet.

I came down with a terrible sinus infection just days before the first “date,”; we were both excited to meet one another so I agreed to meet-up for a light lunch and ice cream to get the ball rolling. I’m on my way to meet him at the restaurant, feeling like total crap thanks to the sinus situation, when he calls and asks if I would mind meeting him at Wal-Mart first (next to the restaurant) as he had to pick up some things. I’m convinced I had a fever that day as I foolishly agreed to this idea.

I get to the parking lot, and there he is… I think. He looks nothing like his pictures and he’s a good five inches shorter than he claimed to be (which made him shorter than me since he claimed to be 6’1″). Not the best way to start. We get into WalMart when he tells me that he needs “kitty litter and kitty food.” I’m terribly allergic to cats, which he knows and he proceeds to tell me that he’d gladly get rid of the cats if the first date goes well. (Dude, we just met. No need to give up your cats yet.) So we are in the cat food aisle and he hands me a 25 pound bag of kitty litter and asks me to HOLD IT, while he carries around four cans of cat food. In between choosing the cat food he keeps mumbling to himself how pretty I am (appreciate the nicety but it was odd), while staring at his shoes. The dude wouldn’t look me in the eye.

20 minutes later, we are outside WalMart and I’m not feeling well and the whole beginning of the date was just so odd, so I tell him I’m really not feeling well and think we should postpone. Not two minutes after I’m in the car, dude calls me. Three times in a row. (I was on the other line with my mom, letting her know I was alive.) He leaves a message each time, sobbing, telling me how beautiful he thinks I am, that I’m his only hope in life, that he’d be a father if his ex had decided to keep the baby. The phone calls continue every hour. And my email inbox? Flooded with notes from him.

I confess, I didn’t call him back because I had no idea what to say; it was all so bizarre, surreal, awkward, I felt bad for him and I didn’t think that I was remotely interested after the false photos and lying about his height, not to mention the sobbing voice messages.

Two days later… flowers arrive. At my office. From this dude. Within minutes of the flowers arriving, he calls my direct line at my office, crying yet again, demanding to know what went wrong and why I wouldn’t see him again. Not having caller ID on my phone at the time, I answered, politely explained that I thought we were looking for different levels of a relationship and that I wished him the best. It was the last I heard of him. To this day I still have no idea how he figured out where I worked.

So, my friends, that’s the story of the world’s shortest date where yours truly tried to be a trooper, wound up carrying a 25 lb bag of kitty litter, walking next to a dude who mumbled and stared at his shoes who turned out to be a borderline stalker.

• Iron Man 2 rocked. RDJ is looking better than ever, the music was great (I think I need to purchase the soundtrack), Mickey Rourke is still creepy looking, and the movie gets a 9.5 out of 10 from me. If ScarJo hadn’t been in the movie I probably would have given it a 10/10 but I’m just not a fan of hers.
• End of semesters stink. I’m struggling to push through these last five days. I know I can do it, I just wish I didn’t have to. Knowing that wishing won’t get me anywhere I’ll get ‘er done but I’m longing for a weekend where I can hug my pillow for a few extra hours each morning and lay around listlessly staring at a variety of chick flicks.
• I’ve seen the penguin exhibit at our zoo approximately 15 times. It doesn’t get old. Nor do the giraffes, sea lions, and “big cat country.”
• People should have more picnics. I spent the majority of my day yesterday celebrating my mom and gram at one of our favorite parks with an array of food and drink, activities and relaxing. Combine food, reading, dog & people watching, family, laughs and just being and seriously, who wouldn’t want to have mor picnics?
• Mother Nature is confused. We had to turn the heat on at our house last night. The. Heat. It’s May. This shouldn’t be happening.
• Big events are around the corner: my best college friend’s baby shower is the weekend; my dad is turning the big 6-0 next week; my brother will be home for a few weeks; and the basement is finally going to be finished after the great flood February 2010!
• I guess you want to know who won the book giveaway, eh?… the winner is: Veronica from Simply Charmed! Congratulations, Veronica!

Anything random on your mind this Monday morning?

Previous installments:  here , here ,  here ,here,  here and here.

* I’ve never seen the original Star Wars movies. Ever.

* When I was in Key West for my friend’s bachelorette party, I committed the Cardinal Sin of vacations: I fell for a local. Captain Steve. Sigh. Italian, tall, tan, handsome and wildly adventurous.

* If I can’t sleep, I will eat M&Ms in bed while playing my Nintendo DSi.

* I still suffer from blogger envy on occasion: design, followers, stats. I know, it’s totally silly and shallow considering everything else that’s going on in the world.

* About once every two months, my Monica Gellar cleanliness tendencies go out the window. Suddenly there are piles of clothes, books and other randomness all over my room. It builds up until I can’t take it anymore and I do a clean sweep.

* I get really annoyed when the men I work with feel the need to make loud, bodily function noises in the hallway. I may be the only girl in the office, but I can hear them!

* I’m not sure that I’m feeling Glee this season. The plot line is a bit… jumpy.

* The other day, I caught a glimpse of myself and my hair in the mirror. The curliness and gray hair totally looked like Cher in Moonstruck. I haven’t decided if this is a good or bad thing. I guess it’d be good if it means I find some Italian dude who likes the look.

* Some days I wish I could be the party girl, the devil-may-care-attitude girl. Not the cares-what-people-think, people-pleasing, worrying-about-everyone-but-herself girl.

Anything you want to get off your chest today?