It isn't all about the clothes.
I’m hating on my wardrobe. Almost all of my shirts are unflattering, misshapen, and hang off of my body because of my weight loss. If not that, they’re faded. Actually, I just had a shirt go through the wash for the first time a few days ago and its color bled out and destroyed another item along with itself. This was on cold with like colors. Could my washing machine be to blame for this? Or is it the detergent?
I’ve been using this Alpine Tide, but maybe I should look more closely at the label in the event that it has bleach in it. But, still, would that cause bleeding? Caroline used to swear by Cheer to prevent fading, but they don’t sell that here. I just read that a cup of vinegar could help; maybe I’ll try that.
I know, writing about laundry is extremely boring, but I would feel better about myself if I didn’t feel like I were wearing a sheet today. And clothes here can be quite expensive, so it sucks to buy something new and then lose it on the first wash.
This weekend, I’m going to try to go through all my clothes and separate out everything that doesn’t fit or otherwise looks like shit on my body. I’ll just put them up in my loft for now; possibly I can bring them home for a garage sale if I’m Stateside at Christmas. Also this weekend, I’ll try to find a couple of inexpensive, cute tops. This is still a good time to catch the end-of-summer sales, even if I’ll only get a few more weeks of wear out of those things.
I hate looking like a bag lady.
Last night, I chatted with this really nice British guy who I exchanged a few messages on OK Cupid with. He lives near Vienna. Don’t even tell me that this was a bad idea; I know it. The problem was that I was just so bored and lonely last night. I talked to Dan earlier in the day about how part of my addiction to dating is driven by loneliness and boredom and a need to “pass the time.” He’s in the same boat. I need to fix this, and I am aware. Some partial fixes include going to yoga and pilates with Caroline. She just started going again this week, so I could join her next week.
Also, my new friend Lindsey is looking for a salsa dancing class to start taking together. She went salsa dancing (or salsa watching, really) a week ago and invited me but I was too chicken to join. Classes, though, would make a big difference.
Anyway, I think my mention of hashing to this nice British guy prompted him to ask me about Improv Everywhere, and apparently they’re staging an event next Saturday. In Vienna. I would really like to go.
Pros: Meeting new people; fun, exciting event; trying something new; a great first date experience. Cons: Would pretty much be a date; expensive and long travel and I’d need to be back early on Sunday because Caroline is setting the hash trail; expensive to get a hotel or hostel; alternative to hotel or hostel is staying with this guy and that sounds disastrous; do not want to start new long-distance relationship (especially with someone who doesn’t even live in Vienna, so the travel is even more inconvenient than it was with Chris); do not want to get guy’s hopes up; am still working on cultivating new group of friends in Prague and would hate to be away from potential gatherings.
I contacted Chris on Skype last night. Don’t even bother telling me how stupid this was. He wrote back and asked if we could talk in about 40 minutes. I knew exactly what this meant-he was playing World of Warcraft. I even logged in to verify this. He was. When he got back to me 40 minutes later, I asked him if he wanted back his clothes that he had left at my apartment. He said that he had been thinking about this; I said I’d take that as a yes, and he said I should take that as he had been thinking about it. Which means he was in some kind of word game mode. I ignored it and described the clothes-one item is a pullover that I never saw him wear but must be his because I can’t think of anyone else it could belong to.
He then said something about how everything between us seemed resolved but he wasn’t sure what path “it” would take. I’m putting “it” in quotation marks because this led to another word game, where I told him that I thought he’d already chosen his path and then realized he was referring to “it” and not him, and then he made me explain how these were different things.
No, really, talking to him is not the most annoying thing in the world; why do you ask?
The thing is, though, that I was actually in the right mood to talk to him. Lonely and bored, sure, but friendly and upbeat. Which means that when he took the conversation in a braggart direction, I could respond in the way that he always wanted from me: congratulating him, encouraging him, telling him how cool and awesome he is. The only time I disagreed with him was when he said something about how he has to work three times harder than anyone else because nothing is handed to him, and I said something about how some people just make it look easy but that doesn’t mean they aren’t working hard. He conceded that this could be true. Guess I can slip in something like that every now and again if 95% of what comes out of my mouth is otherwise absurdly, airheadedly (I’m making that a word) complimentary.
After anywhere from 30-60 minutes of sporadic conversation, I told him that I’d likely be in Vienna the following weekend and that I could either give him back his clothes or give them to one of his friends. This really infuriated him, and I tried to see it from his point of view. On the one hand, Prague feels like my turf, so I don’t like the idea of his coming here, especially if it weren’t to meet me. But I thought it would be far more hurtful for him to find out that I was in Vienna (as evidenced by the clothing drop off) and I didn’t tell him beforehand.
He said it was suspicious of me to go there and wasn’t it convenient that I’d found something I wanted to do in Vienna so quickly after we split? I said it was a one time event. He said he’d like to go to Munich next weekend and he started telling me about this amazing club there that is perfect for meeting women. I didn’t let that get to me and said the club sounded great and I’d love to go some time, asking him for the name and then looking it up online and saying it looked amazing. He said something about how it’s also great that it’s mostly upper middle class that goes there because it’s expensive and that keeps the scum out. I didn’t say anything.
Finally he said that he would think about it but that maybe he’d like to see me next weekend. There was just a part of him that was telling him not to go there again. Eventually the conversation ended when he was talking about his stupid pickup stuff and I was trying to stay so detached from it that I started responding with obnoxious phrases like “I feel that” and “I’m down with that,” which he didn’t understand. His English slang is great, so I found it hard to believe, but he signed off in a huff, saying he didn’t like to speak in riddles.
I sent him an email after to apologize for upsetting him, both with my slang (hmm) and for telling him I’d be in Vienna. I said it wasn’t necessary for us to meet and probably not even a good idea-that I want him to have his belongings back but that’s possible without us meeting. And, also, while it might be nice to see each other again one day, it’s not time for that yet. He hasn’t answered but I’m not surprised; he won’t.
I felt better about the situation after talking to him. There was a bit of schadenfreude, really, which is terrible of me to admit but true. I can tell he’s broken under that veneer, and, even though I love him and want him to be happy, I still want to see him punished somehow for what he did to me. I know I shouldn’t be reaching out to him. In part, he doesn’t deserve it. In part, it’s a waste of my time and emotions. In part, it sets me back in my progress.
Or possibly it isn’t all bad to talk to him, if I can remain strong and not argue: I see who he is now and that is not the man I loved. I see how vile the person he aspires to be is. It infuriates me and hurts me, but it also fuels me to want something more and better than what he could give me and what he now is. I’m probably not going to find that for a while, but pilates, salsa dancing, and possibly even an Improv Everywhere meeting shouldn’t impede the process.
I’ve been using this Alpine Tide, but maybe I should look more closely at the label in the event that it has bleach in it. But, still, would that cause bleeding? Caroline used to swear by Cheer to prevent fading, but they don’t sell that here. I just read that a cup of vinegar could help; maybe I’ll try that.
I know, writing about laundry is extremely boring, but I would feel better about myself if I didn’t feel like I were wearing a sheet today. And clothes here can be quite expensive, so it sucks to buy something new and then lose it on the first wash.
This weekend, I’m going to try to go through all my clothes and separate out everything that doesn’t fit or otherwise looks like shit on my body. I’ll just put them up in my loft for now; possibly I can bring them home for a garage sale if I’m Stateside at Christmas. Also this weekend, I’ll try to find a couple of inexpensive, cute tops. This is still a good time to catch the end-of-summer sales, even if I’ll only get a few more weeks of wear out of those things.
I hate looking like a bag lady.
Last night, I chatted with this really nice British guy who I exchanged a few messages on OK Cupid with. He lives near Vienna. Don’t even tell me that this was a bad idea; I know it. The problem was that I was just so bored and lonely last night. I talked to Dan earlier in the day about how part of my addiction to dating is driven by loneliness and boredom and a need to “pass the time.” He’s in the same boat. I need to fix this, and I am aware. Some partial fixes include going to yoga and pilates with Caroline. She just started going again this week, so I could join her next week.
Also, my new friend Lindsey is looking for a salsa dancing class to start taking together. She went salsa dancing (or salsa watching, really) a week ago and invited me but I was too chicken to join. Classes, though, would make a big difference.
Anyway, I think my mention of hashing to this nice British guy prompted him to ask me about Improv Everywhere, and apparently they’re staging an event next Saturday. In Vienna. I would really like to go.
Pros: Meeting new people; fun, exciting event; trying something new; a great first date experience. Cons: Would pretty much be a date; expensive and long travel and I’d need to be back early on Sunday because Caroline is setting the hash trail; expensive to get a hotel or hostel; alternative to hotel or hostel is staying with this guy and that sounds disastrous; do not want to start new long-distance relationship (especially with someone who doesn’t even live in Vienna, so the travel is even more inconvenient than it was with Chris); do not want to get guy’s hopes up; am still working on cultivating new group of friends in Prague and would hate to be away from potential gatherings.
I contacted Chris on Skype last night. Don’t even bother telling me how stupid this was. He wrote back and asked if we could talk in about 40 minutes. I knew exactly what this meant-he was playing World of Warcraft. I even logged in to verify this. He was. When he got back to me 40 minutes later, I asked him if he wanted back his clothes that he had left at my apartment. He said that he had been thinking about this; I said I’d take that as a yes, and he said I should take that as he had been thinking about it. Which means he was in some kind of word game mode. I ignored it and described the clothes-one item is a pullover that I never saw him wear but must be his because I can’t think of anyone else it could belong to.
He then said something about how everything between us seemed resolved but he wasn’t sure what path “it” would take. I’m putting “it” in quotation marks because this led to another word game, where I told him that I thought he’d already chosen his path and then realized he was referring to “it” and not him, and then he made me explain how these were different things.
No, really, talking to him is not the most annoying thing in the world; why do you ask?
The thing is, though, that I was actually in the right mood to talk to him. Lonely and bored, sure, but friendly and upbeat. Which means that when he took the conversation in a braggart direction, I could respond in the way that he always wanted from me: congratulating him, encouraging him, telling him how cool and awesome he is. The only time I disagreed with him was when he said something about how he has to work three times harder than anyone else because nothing is handed to him, and I said something about how some people just make it look easy but that doesn’t mean they aren’t working hard. He conceded that this could be true. Guess I can slip in something like that every now and again if 95% of what comes out of my mouth is otherwise absurdly, airheadedly (I’m making that a word) complimentary.
After anywhere from 30-60 minutes of sporadic conversation, I told him that I’d likely be in Vienna the following weekend and that I could either give him back his clothes or give them to one of his friends. This really infuriated him, and I tried to see it from his point of view. On the one hand, Prague feels like my turf, so I don’t like the idea of his coming here, especially if it weren’t to meet me. But I thought it would be far more hurtful for him to find out that I was in Vienna (as evidenced by the clothing drop off) and I didn’t tell him beforehand.
He said it was suspicious of me to go there and wasn’t it convenient that I’d found something I wanted to do in Vienna so quickly after we split? I said it was a one time event. He said he’d like to go to Munich next weekend and he started telling me about this amazing club there that is perfect for meeting women. I didn’t let that get to me and said the club sounded great and I’d love to go some time, asking him for the name and then looking it up online and saying it looked amazing. He said something about how it’s also great that it’s mostly upper middle class that goes there because it’s expensive and that keeps the scum out. I didn’t say anything.
Finally he said that he would think about it but that maybe he’d like to see me next weekend. There was just a part of him that was telling him not to go there again. Eventually the conversation ended when he was talking about his stupid pickup stuff and I was trying to stay so detached from it that I started responding with obnoxious phrases like “I feel that” and “I’m down with that,” which he didn’t understand. His English slang is great, so I found it hard to believe, but he signed off in a huff, saying he didn’t like to speak in riddles.
I sent him an email after to apologize for upsetting him, both with my slang (hmm) and for telling him I’d be in Vienna. I said it wasn’t necessary for us to meet and probably not even a good idea-that I want him to have his belongings back but that’s possible without us meeting. And, also, while it might be nice to see each other again one day, it’s not time for that yet. He hasn’t answered but I’m not surprised; he won’t.
I felt better about the situation after talking to him. There was a bit of schadenfreude, really, which is terrible of me to admit but true. I can tell he’s broken under that veneer, and, even though I love him and want him to be happy, I still want to see him punished somehow for what he did to me. I know I shouldn’t be reaching out to him. In part, he doesn’t deserve it. In part, it’s a waste of my time and emotions. In part, it sets me back in my progress.
Or possibly it isn’t all bad to talk to him, if I can remain strong and not argue: I see who he is now and that is not the man I loved. I see how vile the person he aspires to be is. It infuriates me and hurts me, but it also fuels me to want something more and better than what he could give me and what he now is. I’m probably not going to find that for a while, but pilates, salsa dancing, and possibly even an Improv Everywhere meeting shouldn’t impede the process.