So the boy knows about this blog. Can you believe such a thing? Yeah, THAT happened on our cozy weekend away after a few whiskeys.

Is it cheating to have two and a half years of not only my relationship history but my intimate thoughts and feelings laid out for him? Maybe, but I’m loving the openness of our relationship and I want him to know me and my writing is me.

I will admit though, that a few days after returning he said he was going to do some blog reading and my initial reaction was to trash the entire site. ABORT ABORT.

I’m so glad I didn’t. I just meandered around some of my archives and found some great posts, some things I forgot about. I kinda like reconnecting with 26-year-old MJ and having a (total public and awkward) record of how I got where I am.

I did, however, stay up late that night trying to race ahead of him to censor a few things that really don’t matter anymore. But, yes, Buzz, I’ll give you the deets if ever you ask, because it’s still me and you make me feel safe and okay with that.

Confessions of Sorts

My company blocked blogs as social networking sites this week.  I can’t even see pictures posted on WordPress or Blogger in my reader anymore. 

But on the bright side, I’ve never been more productive, I’m getting more responsibilities and surprising myself with my knowledge and performance at work.  Time to grow up, I suppose.

This is why this post is most likely going to be word vomit of things I’ve been thinking about all week.

On my second visit to my chiropractor, he asked me a question about the last place I used to work and it threw me off because I didn’t realize the last time I had been there I was still a hotelier extraordinaire, so I just went with it and I’ve seen him three times since and have had to keep up the act.  

It’s practice for lying to men in bars about my job, I suppose.  I think my job is awesome, but I always feel like when people ask me what I do they want me to respond with something that’s easy to understand (particularly while intoxicated), like TEACHER or NURSE or DOLPHIN TRAINER (which I think I shall be this weekend).

I’m going out to celebrate my friend’s birthday tonight and my goal is to stay out actually late and look at least not TOTALLY lame trying to dance.  It’s my first time truly “going out” in trendy Scottsdale and I’m nervous because I don’t feel like I fit in. 

When that happens, I spend too much time worrying about it and shopping for something that won’t expose me as a misfit and trying on endless outfits.  I also considered straightening my hair to fit in or something, but then I realized I love my hair and being unique is awesome and as long as I bring my confidence along for the ride I’ll be fine. 

I’m also nervous because this is the friend who was the green-eyed monster the last time we went out and things are still strange. I’m not sure if her boyfriend is going, but her cute (and I think single) Steelers fan man friend is.

I went to pay for something in cash the other day and it came to $11.05.  I had the $11 and then I stared at a nickel like I was visiting from another country until the 16-year-old behind the register was like, “yes, that one.”  How sad.

The high schoolers on Friday Night Lights make me believe in love. I’m in season three and Tandry just got back together, don’t ruin it and tell me they don’t end up together.

I still do the arms straight down at my side test that they did at high school to see if my skirts or shorts are too short.  Above the thumb is too short.  I still wear it either way but always check.

My big plans for today are going to the library.  And I’m kinda excited.  Yeah, I definitely don’t fit in.  And that’s fine.

The What-What

Update: My non-boyfriend Facebook boyfriend let the request hang for about 24 hours before figuring it out and changing his status back.  I feel bad for him, but seriously, dude, tread lightly when it comes to Facebook relationships. 

I’ve got a lot of reading to do this weekend if I want to get off to a good start with my resolution of one fiction and one non-fiction book per month (it WAS the first one on the list after all).  I’m 3/4 of the way through Racing Weight and about 30 pages into Jodi Picoult’s Handle With Care. How about we just call it 12 of each for the year?

People with children have no boundaries.  My boss did not think twice about giving me the detailed play-by-play of how his two boys handled having the flu all week.  And someday I will likely do the same to my poor, unsuspecting coworkers.

I’m wanderlusting big time.  Belize is on the top of my list.  Well, was, and then this week, I saw this.  Maybe Europe.  And although I’m bummed that it probably won’t be 2011, that doesn’t mean it can’t be January 2012!

This weekend is the first bridesmaids dress shopping adventure with Bridezilla my sister.  Direct quote from an email I JUST got from her: “My dress is HERE! There will be many more times I will need to go in for fittings [ed. note: lies…she measured a perfect size 2 and I imagine it will fit like a dream] so this is to try it on just because I CAN!” I’m sorry, I get that she’s excited (and that I will likely be just as obnoxious when it’s MY turn), but is it October yet?  In other wedding news, my other October bride is a dream, but I think two of the bridesmaids are going to throw down before the big day.

My first half-marathon is tomorrow!  My long run a few weeks ago took me over the distance of the race, so I should be fine, but it also left me with a knee injury and I haven’t been training as much as I’d have liked in the past two weeks.  The doubting voices in my head have a few other things to say as well, but in 21 hours I’m going to shut them up and hit the pavement.

That will probably be the last mention of wellness and running here because I’m posting on that over at my new wellness blog!  The one I kinda skimmed over here.  It is my second attempt at a public blog (my last one bombed because it didn’t have a focus).  I’m struggling with keeping one anon and one public blog and building readership of both.  If anyone has tips, I’d love to hear them!  And if anyone would like to continue to read about my fitness adventures and kitchen mishaps, email me at emjaye [at] ymail [dot] com and I will be glad to send you the link!

I’m staying at my parents’ house over the weekend because they are closer to the race and to the dress shop and civilization in general.  And because they’re out of town.  And I’m totally having a party.  Well, not really.  I’m on the fence about asking my ArtWalk guy over to make dinner (date #2 was not as great as that first one) or inviting some friends over for a game night.  Yeah, I’m 26, but it still feels like I’m breaking the rules!

Oh yeah, and I need advice about ArtWalk guy.  When do you call an attempted relationship off?  There are no red flags, just a lackluster date, but the first was good!  Do we try again in a different environment?


I’m going off the grid (starting yesterday).  During the holidays I took a little time away from technology by default, but this week I’m making a conscious effort to unplug for no reason at all (well, it is on my 101 list).  I imagine I’ll be well-rested, well-read and my shoulders will move away from my ears.  I’m going to be social.  Imagine that.  I might also attempt to figure out my life and create a plot to eliminate senseless crimes against the English language.

I’ve scheduled this post and tomorrow’s WWW update to go up while I’m on detox.  If they bore, feel free to abort the mission, but come back next week when you won’t be reading posts I cranked out in one night!


Reverb 10, Day 7 Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?

In 2010, I definitely found myself in the blogging community.  I think it was in 2010 that I discovered the awesomeness that is Google Reader and began to actively jump into strangers’ lives on a daily basis (and stopped thinking of them as strangers).  I lost a little of that when I switched blogs and I actually felt that loss.  It’s why I was upset with my mother in a way that I hadn’t been since I was a surly teenager.  The blogosphere is a funny space because you put everything out there but then think you can stay anonymous.  I’m trying to balance that now and am happy with the growing sense of community I feel around my new blog.  I’d like to nurture that in the new year and even meet some of these bloggers with whom I sometimes feel so kindred.

In 2010, I left my job at a resort, which had hundreds of employees but never felt like a community.  Everyone there was out for blood and only looking out for number one.  I joined a small office as the sixth employee and feel much more connected with the people I work with now.

In 2011, I’d like to find a sense of community in my city.  I proclaim, probably a little too loudly, that I don’t fit in here.  I always wanted to live in Scottsdale, but now that I’m here, it feels like L.A. East and I left L.A. because it’s not my style.  That’s very narrow-minded of me and I know that.  Stereotypes are typically there for a reason, but they are not absolutes. I think with a little effort, I will find a niche in Scottsdale in which I feel comfortable, whether it’s with other bloggers/writers, through a running group, by volunteering or something else.

Reverb 10

I’m joining Reverb 10 this December.  I’m not sure what to expect, but the idea of reflecting on 2010 and manifesting my best 2011 is right up my contemplative, self-aware, neo hippie alley.  I may not participate every day, perhaps just with the prompts that particularly speak to me.  It starts December 1…are you in?

Day 19

I’ve posted every day since the 5th and am suddenly feeling a lot of pressure to keep this thing going. 

A lot has changed since the 5th.  Even as I wrote that post, I knew something wasn’t right with TGISWOTSDAKHEFAWBOAKHFTD.  Maybe I thought if I wrote a lighthearted post about my non-boyfriend things would turn out okay. 

That asshole, who’s not really an asshole at all, broke my heart on the 5th.  Luckily I had not given him too much of it.  I hadn’t been seeing him for that long and feel a little silly that I was so affected by it, but I was really disappointed, mostly about the loss of what I thought we could have been, but the truth is, it was just not meant to be and when I feel a little sad I remind myself of that. 

The other day I was looking at my calendar and felt relieved that it’s almost December.  In December, I can throw out November.  I don’t have to be reminded of a party we went to together, the date we had the night he told me it wasn’t going to work out and the date we had a week later that we tried to pretend wasn’t a date that mostly just went up in flames.  I can get away from the Saturdays after those dates, which I spent in fogs.

Truthfully though, I hate to be one of those who’s perpetually wishing for time to go faster.  Yes, everyone loves weekends, but the majority of life is spent in weeks, so there have to be ways to enjoy the in-between too.

So, what else have I done since the 5th?

I found a spin class I enjoy going to on a regular basis.  I ran a 10K (mostly).  I gave my body over to a personal trainer who has me walking around like an arthritic 78-year-old but showing me that my body is capable of amazing things.  I learned to foam roll my poor, poor muscles.

I went to San Diego on my first business trip with my new company.  I gave my first presentation and did a really good job.  

I rejoined the wonderful world of online dating.  I flirted and got an extra month and a half on my free gym membership.  I explored a music museum and had wine and easy, uninterrupted conversation with Rebel, the friend/flower guy.

I went to my first opera.    I visited with my mom on her birthday and forgave her for finding my last blog (not literally because I never told her that was why I took it down, but I hadn’t been being fair to her because of it and now I’m over it).  I got upset with my sister and got over that too.  I caught up with an old friend at a casino at 5pm on a Saturday like (arthritic) 78-year-olds bussed in from the retirement communities.  I made holiday plans with college friends.

I’m going to enjoy the rest of November.  I’m going to slow down.  It’s not about rushing to the next phase.  I’m going to let myself feel the hurt if it comes up AND remember to enjoy the good things that make up the in-between time.

We Aren’t What We Do or What We Did, or Are We?

No one wants to be THAT guy.  You know, the former high school quarterback always talking about his glory days on the field, even though now he’s in middle management, drives his kids’ carpool and has a beer gut.  Or THAT girl who won’t shut up about her college party days and how HAWT she and her sorority sisters were, even though that’s so not cute for a woman pushing 30 who goes on a string of bad first dates  and then home to her cat (although, if she’s discussing her sorority days on said dates, that may be the reason).

I’ve been there.  After leaving an awesome job for a crappy one (long story), when people would ask me what I did, I wouldn’t even take a breath between “So, that’s where I am for now.  ButItotallyusedtohaveasuperawesome-glamourousjobthatwaswaycooler.”  Who cares?  Everytime I heard myself say it, I was turned off. 

It was like I was saying that I wasn’t worthwhile anymore and I knew better.  Finally, I realized that if, in essence, I was embarrassed to tell people what I did, then I needed to do something about it and I did.

I guess my point is that I really dislike the question, “so, what do you do?” particularly the social norm that says that you’re supposed to answer back with your profession.  People aren’t in love with their jobs, that’s why it’s called work and that’s why they have to pay you to show up, so why would they want to talk about it?  I’d rather talk about my nail polish honestly.  If we ever meet on a plane or in a coffee house or in jail, ask me about that.  Or ask me why I’m in jail, that story is obviously going to give you much bigger bang for your buck.

My other point is that there’s no black line that I came upon and stepped over to get here.  This blog is a gray line.  I am totally still the supercoolblogthat-Ihadbefore.  If given the choice, I would have kept blogging at the old digs, but I have an intense desire to write whatever the fuck I feel like, so I’m starting overish.