we met on facebook (part 3):
(continued from the last post) he looked like Richard Gere circa American Gigolo! he was taller than me. he looked smart, clean! his outfit was simple: a jacket over a light grey sweater and jeans. i said hello and hugged him. he was cute! but before we could even start talking, some girl i hadn’t seen in forever came out of nowhere! ‘heeeey alexi..’ and would not shut the fuck up! i told her he (fb dude) had just flown in from NY and that i hadn’t seen him in forever (that was ALMOST the truth- minus the ‘for’ in forever. i couldn’t exactly say i was on a first date with a guy I’d never met before who had trolled me on the interweb and sent me a picture of his privates. actually, that seems like something i WOULD say. but hindsight is 20/20, and i can’t go back in time now!), i mentioned to the annoying monster vadge blocker- that i was starving, being rude to my date, had to go, should cut the conversation short, even feigning that i might possibly faint from hunger/low blood sugar, that my stomach was now eating itself, and that i was on the verge of suicide. but she just kept talking about herself. was she for real? what a monster! she’s worse than me! at least i know when to fucking make my exit. but tall, handsome ‘fb dude’ seemed so calm; just standing there, listening to this annoying jerk go on and on! i was borderline annoyed by his patience. didn’t everyone know i was in make-out mode! i wanted to get it started! i wanted to look at him and give him a proper ‘hello’ hug! one that wouldn’t be interrupted! she was ruining EVERYTHING! finally, she shut the fuck up, and we said our goodbyes. phew!
the truth was, i wasn’t even hungry, i had eaten a lean cuisine before i got there. i didn’t want to take the chance of being low blood sugar and not at my best to charm him. plus, i wasn’t ready to be eating in front of the dude. this was a COFFEE date! i ordered a soy latte (they were out of rice milk. sad face.) he paid. already, this was going sooo great! he laughed and had money ready before i could even reach for my wallet. he said ‘i got it, i got it! of course. i know what you like.’ or something along those lines. this was lovely! i was beaming! yeah, I’m that easy! all it takes is paying for my coffee. that’s not exactly true, he was also taller than me and a babe REMEMBER! woo hoo! i hoped he didn’t think i was ugly. i told him he was handsome and all he said was thank you. wtf? instead of internalizing that, and keeping my self conscious thoughts to myself like a semi sane person, i said ‘listen, I’m not fishing for compliments but i just said you were handsome, like, twice! and all you said was thank you. does that mean you think I’m a horrible monster?’ he just remained calm, collected, and said something like: I’m not gonna compliment you just because you tell me to. i’ll compliment you when i compliment you. to me this was harsh, but it also made sense, and i just needed to chill the fuck out and remember who i was. i am not a monster. i am not a monster. he obviously thinks I’m cute, he’s here. and i don’t need to put all my self worth into this guys hands. i was really nervous. i was spazzing out. i hoped the encounter was still cute, funny, and charming- not him witnessing me having a crazy meltdown!
he ate a cookie. i sat there watching him; bits of cookie flying everywhere as he spoke- like the cookie monster. i mentioned it. i needed anything to use for conversation. plus, i felt the need to give him shit. as if he responded well to being fucked with/made fun of. god, i really needed to have sex. we had both put in our time, via facebook and telephone. we were each-others sexual investment. and these two days would be a mutual withdrawal. that was possibly the dumbest sentence i have ever written in my entire life. i just want you to know that i know that! i was so glad he was a babe, with nice hands, and skin. it may have been glowing even! i asked to inspect his right hand. i don’t know if it was because my mom recently told me about how she’s attracted to a man with nice hands- and i was subconsciously affected- but holding his hand in mine, i thought it was beautiful. big, soft, and delicate- but not manicured, which is great.. cuz he’s a dude! geeze, when did this blog turn into some supermarket romance novel? today mutha-fuckahs!
i liked his skin, how it felt. our conversation didn’t really make any sense. i didn’t know what i wanted to say, ask him, or if we even had anything in common other than fb. i was like an item on his ‘to do’ list or something: have sex with the la based boycrazy blogger. we exchanged discombobulated banter. we were all over the place. i always feel like the pressure’s on me though. like if something’s going badly, I’m the one being judged. but i mainly think this when the guy is really cute. i think i was in shock. you know that weird feeling when someone is actually real and in front of you?! he wasn’t a voice over a phone line, or words on a computer screen anymore. the dude was real and sitting right in front of me! i couldn’t process this fast enough. i was sarcastic and trying to seem calm- while simultaniously telling him i was freaking out and how weird this all was for me. i have no filter. i wear my feelings/heart/thoughts on my sleeve and in my facial expressions. i say everything I’m thinking, even when i shouldn’t. i gave him shit about the dick pic thing. asking if he was embarrassed. he pretended to be regretful, but i knew he was faking. i knew he didn’t give a fuck about having sent it. i hoped my hand didn’t shake while i took a sip of my latte. this was all so random! this whole experience. i should have taken a beta blocker or something to calm my nerves, but that would have bit a bit extremo!
he went to the mens room to powder his nose, and while he was gone- i checked my phone/texted my best girlfriend about my date and that i was crazy nervous (fyi- i only checked my phone when he couldn’t see me. texting in front of a date is totally rude! the lowest of the low. a deal breaker.) i noticed i had received a text as well. it was from another sexy dude from NYC who was visiting la, and in town that night only. Jesus, when it rains it pours. well, i might be boycrazy, but i don’t double book. i’m a lady! plus, the dude i was on a date with was way too cute to cut the date short/try to squeeze in ANOTHER date. no thank you. i’ve done that once in my life, years ago, and it’s way too hectic. i also think it de-values the experience of each individual date. we all need time to reflect and decompress after a date/romantical adventure. i turned my phone off and put it away. fb dude came back.
it was freezing out, but i knew we had to get out of there. we were too still. sitting there. stagnant. in front of eachother. we needed to get this show on the road. i wanted to walk with him, so we got up and walked around the block. my make out ploy! it was freezing out! i was in a sweater AND jacket, and i was still cold. i linked arms with him and looked down at my feet and back up at him as we walked. i loved that he was taller than me. we walked around to the back parking lot and stood by my car. yikes, we were gonna kiss… but it didn’t even seem romantic yet. he seemed so whatevs about me. was he even nervous? i wonder how i seemed. on the surface we were acting like kids, picking on eachother- but the subtext was: ‘we’re gonna sexxxy time! we’ve been waiting a while for this! today is the day! wheee! ahhh! omg- squared (x) infinity!’
i looked up at him and touched his hair. i was close to him now and ready/wanted to kiss him. i think i even asked if i could. did i? he kissed me. we leaned against my car, then moved the make-out into my car. great! all i needed was for all the busboys and cashiers at m cafe to watch me have a torrid make-out in my car. i didn’t really care about the pinkberry staff that shared the parking lot as well. they played absolutely no part in my life. making out, i finally felt calm. what does that say about me? (slut whore? shut your mouth! i just like to kiss. it’s quiet and calming!) we kept up the ‘slightly uncomfortable/clunky, make-out in a car’ vibe for as long as we could before one of us said: ‘what are we gonna do?’ so, we drove to his hotel and i valeted my car.
the drive to the hotel/break between the makeout portion of the date threw me off, i was on the verge of getting nervous again. we went upstairs. he made jokes about his room not being on a high enough floor for me. we were such bullshit banter buddies. we must have so much to prove. he kissed me again. now we were laying in his hotel bed. it was amazers, fun, exciting, a bit awkward. what was he thinking during his moments of silence? something? anything? he held me. i tried to match his silence- but then i burst out and yelled: ‘do you know how hard it is for me NOT to speak!’
fooling around, it got to that point where you either have to stop or have sex. i told him ‘i’m not going to have sex with you tonight.’ he asked why. ‘because, i want to see you tomorrow’ i said. he told me: ‘i’d still see you tomorrow if we had sex tonight.’ i smiled, and didn’t say what i was thinking, which was: ‘yes, but, i wouldn’t want to see YOU if we had sex tonight.’ we continued to make out, cuddle, and spoon. he reached for his phone. i couldn’t believe it! i told him that if he actually texted someone during our make-out rendezvous, i would freak the fuck out. so rude! he looked at me, both of us topless, and said ‘i have to tell you something. don’t be mad! i promise, it’s not about an std or another girl, or anything like that.’ i was panicked. he was scaring me! he was looking for something on his phone! wtf? he handed me his phone and i sat up to look at whatever it was that he was tyring to show me. e-mails on his blackberry? huh? it was an email from me? so what? I’d emailed him before. wait, when was this email sent? not that long ago. but i hadn’t emailed ‘fb dude’ recently. and it was addressed to….holy shit… it was my email exchange with ‘the faceless blogger’! ‘fb dude’ WAS the faceless blogger! they were the same person! I’d been had!
he looked at me with concern. he seemed worried. omg, i couldn’t believe this! i had no idea! now, I’m sure you guys all saw this coming from a mile away, in my set up of this story- but i didn’t, cuz i was living it. this was like ‘you’ve got mail’ or something! and i was meg ryan and he was tom hanks! i wasn’t mad at all. did i feel tricked? no! i thought it was cool and romantic and crazy! i didn’t care. this only made the story better. epic even! for the first time during this entire date sesh…. i was happy, and i liked him. this was officially exciting. this was noteworthy. it added to the story of my life!
i had to leave. i said i had to wake up early… even though i didn’t. my face was a post make-out red/worn off makeup disaster! ‘don’t look at me!’ was the mantra that echoed in my head. i hate how other people can be used as mirrors. all my ‘crazy’ comes up when another person is in front of me to reflect how i feel about myself. forcing me to look at myself/hear all the annoying voices in my head: self consciousness and a fear of being judged. but this always happens when i think a boy is cute and we’ve just met. it’s worse when I’m totally calm and feel nothing. that means the dude will never see my boobs. (well, he’ll probably never see my boobs.) I’m sure there’s a happy medium out there, for someone! even if i never attain it! anywayzies. i told him to pay for my valet, because it’s the right thing to do, and he did. we kissed while waiting for my car to be brought around. he made sure to tell me that he was giving me a pda (public display of affection)! wow, thanks a lot dude, i should be sooo grateful! he wanted me to take him to his company’s party that he had blown off to be with me (i think he made the right choice)! i dropped him off, hoping he would keep our night sacred and not troll for other girls/makeout/etc. at least i wasn’t waiving my other nyc potential date in front of HIM! but, i don’t own the dude, and i’d have gone back to meet up with my friends too? yeah, i would, since it was a work party AND i was in from outta town. we’d had a fun night. this didn’t have to negate that. he told me he wanted to see me the next day, go to dinner. i said ok. we kissed goodbye, and he got out of my car.
i sped home! what just happened? i texted the other nyc dude and said: sorry, i was with a friend. maybe another time. (i didn’t appreciate the short notice anywayzies). when i got home. i could not sleep! i went to fb dude/the faceless blogger’s website and read every single entry. i read about his awkward dates, coming onto girls, coming of age stories, the dichotomy of what guys/he wants in a girl/love, mens perception of the differences between 19 year old girls and 31 year old girls. and instead of being jealous, angry, or thinking he was a misogynist asshole, who was confused and immature- i appreciated his honesty! plus, i liked his writing. i liked that he was honest about being girl-crazy, needing to experience single-ness to the max-/get it out of his system, had feelings, was sentimental, was emotional, needed to be loved by everyone (while at the same time, not loving in return or wanting to commit at all), and admitted it! he was obviously self aware and searching! searching for what matters, what’s real, and what he wants as far as love, sex, fucking, and relationships are concerned. and that’s ok. and yes, the dude reminded me of ME!
he clearly liked girls with dark hair and pale skin, check. i saw something in him. i saw myself in him. he was shallow, emotional, looking to be loved, harsh, insecure, and also very masculine/macho, needed tons of validation, out to bang chicks, but live in a romantic comedy and get married one day. i hoped he wasn’t too mean. i saw his blatant ageism and harsh judgemental side. but, i knew that all his observatons/weighing the pros and cons and dissecting women- would all go out the window the minute he fell in love (i’m not saying with me, but with whoever). cuz being hit over the head with love outweighs all the ‘logic/listmaking/picture perfect alone’ criteria. it’s an invisible bubble that hovers over the two people in love. it can’t be explained. youth, beauty, and lots of options are awesome! but that combined with finding someone you can talk to, who inspires you, that you love, who loves YOU, and makes you laugh- is the dream. someone that you feel cozy with.
but everyone can feel all these different things all at once. maybe not all the time, but some times. they just don’t talk about it. i have a million different opinions in one day. i stare at young sexy boys i wanna make-out with, and the minute they open their mouth, i wanna run. sometimes i make-out with them first and then run. i think about how i don’t want to be tied down and how much i love being single, but the minute it gets cold out, i want a boy who ‘gets’ me/knows me/loves me- to cuddle with. (i should invent a delivery service- but i think that would make me a madam.) the point is: everyone can be a complete contradiction. we’re all just figuring it out. hopefully not hurting anyone’s feelings along the way.
reading his site made me think about how people might percieve me. just because i have this ‘boycrazy’ blog doesn’t mean i’m some skanky skag, who fucks every dude she meets (just SOME of them- the cutest and/or the coolest, i swear!). i’m not incapable of love. not at all! i’m actually very sensitive and in some ways might be more of a hopeless romantic than MOST because i’ve made it my job to put a microscope on people/boys & girls; asking them about love, dating, sex, relationships, social dynamics, turn ons, turn offs, hopes, dreams, ideals, etc. writing about it all and analyzing all my thoughts and feeling while I search for what/who makes me happy!
i saw myself in ‘fb dude/the faceless bloggger’. i could relate to him! now my mind was reeling! thank god! this was way more of a turn on than good looks alone. suddenly i had a million things i wanted to ask/say to him- nothing like when i was sitting in front of him only hours earlier at the cafe! i couldn’t wait to see him! i hoped i would remember everything in my brain! i wasn’t sure if i should tell him i read EVERY entry of HIS blog, but i’d wait and see how i felt. i took a bath, got into bed, and went to sleep….. happily awaiting our second date! (to be continued)
we met on facebook (part 2):
(continued) the days passed. we spoke and texted less and less. one night while he was writing on my wall- my facebook wall, not my vaginal walls- his friend joined in on the wall postings. the comments were too harsh for me. they weren’t funny and i was feeling sensitive. i was pms’ing and over it. did i have a crush on someone in la? maybe. ‘fb dude’ called me and i told him i was annoyed. that i didn’t wanna talk. i wasn’t in the mood. who was this guy? ugh, i didn’t even know him. and now he and his friend were teaming up on me on facebook? i didn’t feel safe. he was suddenly an enemy, not an ally. looking back, i was feeling particularly sensitive that night. but that was that, i kinda forgot about the whole thing, and never called him back.
months after our last phone call, ‘fb dude’ texted me saying he’d be in la in a couple weeks for 2 days. he asked me to pick a day to go out on a coffee date. i picked the first of the two days.. just in case he was gorgeous. i continued on with my life. i remembered him telling me that he LOVED hair on a girls privates during one of our late night calls, so i got waxed, knowing i would be grown out by the time he came to town. he wasn’t priority number one, but he was in the back of my mind: ‘oh, yay! if nothing’s going on, at least i have a date early next month.’
i was dating and focused on work. i went to a laker game, dinner parties, was spending time with my girlfriends. one of them told me about some faceless male blogger- who’s blog reminded her of mine. i checked it out. but there were so many pics of some hipster ‘it girl’ dj, i decided against reading it. i was probably just annoyed that the obsessive photos weren’t of me. i can be such a narcissist fuck. so, i emailed him:
me: who are you? the male me? i wanna see a pic. i won’t tell a soul. xo, alexi
him: Just so you know I’m not that easy. One e-mail from a pretty girl is not enough to have me uploading pics.
me: ok. people keep telling me about your blog because they say it reminds them of mine. however, it’s not really that similar. especially since i don’t hide my identity. didn’t we already write on fb? or am i totally wrong? maybe you’re not even a boy. holy shit, the interweb is crazers. i’ll leave you alone now. best, alexi
him: It’s actually been really hard being anonymous because so many channels of promotion were not open to me. I will be honest, your blog was one of the reasons I started, dudes really don’t have anything like it, most of the men that blog about women are so fucking douchey, I just wanted to tell stories about new york and have fun with it.
me: well, thank you. i’m glad i inspired you. : )
me (3 days later): one more thing…. are you a goodlooking, tall (6 feet or over), single boy babe? (he didn’t respond.)
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
two weeks later, ‘fb dude’ arrived in la!
in the days that led up to his arrival- i had been inundated with work and was WAY more excited about watching bad tv/being cozy at home/spending more time with my family, friends, and myself- whenever i had any down time, than i was about meeting lackluster dudes and prowling. it wasn’t worth the energy.
(even though, let’s face it, my eyes are ALWAYS OPEN when it comes to cute boys; at the supermarket, cafes, while driving- to the point of borderline driving into walls or off a cliff, even maybe!)
I’d only had sex once in the last four months. and now, i needed it like medicine! in the daytime, i was fine. but when it got dark and cold out (and, lately, it was getting darker earlier and more cold than usual) i felt in need of a cuddle/makeout/sexxxy time rendezvous. but i had no crush on anyone! no one on my radar. and i didn’t want it to be an empty experience. i wanted it to be fun and cozy. with someone who actually values me, and likes me as a person.
my best male friend would tell me to just ‘rub one out’ and go to sleep. he’s a charmer. he actually IS a charmer, but i prefer the term ‘touch myself’. anyways, not being sexxed in four months was leaving me feeling not cute/de-swagger-fied.
but, the day my ‘fb dude’ got to la, i had just started to feel better! that particular day was hectic and i was happy! i had castings, hit on some 19 and 23 year old boys, my best girlfriend and i went shopping/bro’d out like champions, and I’d even had a business meeting over hot chocolates and coffee at the chateau marmont! this way to fancy town! what more did i need?
now i was dreading the date. i was confused. how did this dude fit into my life? he didn’t! i didn’t want to be nervous and anxious about being judged by a dude who’s only ever seen pictures of me on the interweb; who i might not even like; sit with him judging whether my photos were a misrepresentation of me; i didn’t want to be a let down. fuck. i didn’t need more stress in my life! i’m just a person! a person! this was supposed to be fun! i had just gotten over a cold, i was sleepy faced. yikes. i hoped he didn’t think i was an ugly/fat/wrinkled/monster/with bad skin . i hated that i cared, because ultimately it didn’t matter what this guy thought of me. i think i’m great! (are you noticing i have a tendency to over-think, cuz i do. i know! you’re welcome. ahh!)
i was meeting ‘fb dude’ at 8:45 at m cafe and i was running a few minutes late. i showed up at 8:50. i entered from the back, walked into the ladies room to look at myself in the mirror, DUH! it’s THE THING to do, and fluffed my hair! i walked out of the ladies, down the corridor, and there he was… and he was fucking GORGEOUS. (to be continued)
we met on facebook (part 1):
I’ll call him ‘fb dude’. he had requested my friendship on facebook months before. he lived in new york. his default pic was nice. somehow, probably by asking, i found out he was 6’2. he was trolling me and i love attention. we had mutual friends, (did i mention he was tall and good-looking?), so it was fine! friendship accepted! hollah! i asked one of our mutual friends if ‘fb dude’ was a jerky murderer or something, and he said no. alright! i could be excited! we would write on fb, text, and even have long phone call conversations. this was new for me. i’d never let a random facebook request escalate to phone calls! sometimes he texted me during the day and checked up on me. it’s always nice to get a text. even if it DID just stem from boredom and the new texting obsession that’s been going around/sweeping the nation. give a text, get a text!
one night he had to talk me down off a ledge (figuratively) about a guy i had a crush on. what was ‘fb dude’? a friend? a romance? what he was was a lonliness eliminator or at least an alleviator. i guess i was the same for him. he was probably JUST putting in the time, effort, work to sexxx me if we ever ended up in the same town at the same time. but the conversations went on a bit too long. putting in time could have been done in smaller intervals. maybe he should rework his game? did he just like my blog? was he a facebook predator pro? he seemed very alive on the web. i should talk. I’m basically fb spam- trying to get people to read my b l o g. what was his excuse? i guess this is how it is now. modern men in modern times troll the web. one thing that concerned me was how late he stayed up every night. it seemed like he went to bed at 7am every night/day. but he filled that attention void i needed.
he was a self proclaimed ex-’wigger‘. i don’t like even WRITING that word, because it’s linked to the ‘n’ word- but that’s what he referred to himself as. this ‘wigger’esque dialect came out here and there over the phone. i thought it was sexy and random. very different for me. what was i doing on the phone with this dude? but it was kinda nice having some faceless set of ears to talk to. talk about whatevs. practice being witty. practice fast paced, flirty banter.
it was getting late one night during one of these phone calls, when he offered to send me a ‘dick pic’. wtf?! i had never even heard of this phrase! was this some new thing? did all the kids know about dick pic’ing except me? i said “no! gross! do not send me a pic of your dick. that will kill everything! whatever this ‘thing’ is- will be extinguished. ugh.” it took about 20 minutes for me to say “okay, send it.” and he did! holy shit! i can’t believe this dude sent me a pic of his dick! he asked me to send him some sort of pic back! yeah right! what a pro this dude was! but i’m not fucking retarded! no way!
the next day, i felt it was my duty to tell as many girlfriends of mine who would listen about my new-found dick pic knowledge. i showed them the pic which was now stored in my phone (calm down, it was just his privates, no pic of his face attached and i didn’t say his name! I’m not evil. i would never do that!) i even passed my phone around at a dinner party to everyone’s shock, horror, jubilee, and dismal fascination. what can i say? dicks look weird. but so do vagina’s. this isn’t a competition. so let’s just call a spade a spade. back to the dick pic: it was too ‘this’ for some, too ‘that’ for others. my dude friends just shrugged when i showed them. i’m pretty sure i showed everyone i ran into, including people i didn’t know but wanted to meet – JUST so i could show them. it was fun! i’m GLAD ‘fb dude’ sent it to me. i told him i showed it to people at a dinner party and he wasn’t even mad. he was actually a smart dude who had some good insight into things, gave good advice about relationships, and happened to send the occasional picture of his dick. yikes. (to be continued)
years ago….. (part 3):
(continued from the LAST post)
Turns out, now that it’s 2009 (and apparently for the past 3 years or so- thanks a lot for not telling me, old doc!) there’s a better technique to see if there’s a recurrence of cancer. A technique that doesn’t require you to go on a very restrictive 2 week diet ahead of time. It’s an ultrasound. Well, about 2 weeks ago, I saw this new doc, got an order for an ultrasound, and even though I’d just been given another clean bill of health from a body scan I did about a month ago under the LAST endocrinologists care- I decided to cover my ass and double check; so I got the ultrasound.
The doctor called a few days later. He told me my thyroid levels were good (since I no longer have a thyroid, I take a thyroid replacement EVERYDAY- btw: finding the right level for your body is a process. You and your doc figure out what levels are working through trial and error. Sometimes you’re out of breath walking up the stairs- dose is too low. Sometimes you’re feeling frantic and can’t stop sweating- dose is too high. And finally, you work out the dosage so you’re just right! Like Goldilocks!), he told me my blood-work, iron levels, etc all looked good. BUT they found abnormal lymph nodes.
Wtf! Are you fucking kidding me! This again?! After about 5 years (more if I include the years of drainings and biopsies before they ever even found abnormal cells) of body scans, diets, and blood-work! I’ve always just referred to it as a hassle. I’ve made the cancer stuff I’ve dealt with ‘a hassle’. But now, I’m panicked. I don’t want this hassle in my life anymore!!! I don’t need to slow down and look at my life. I know what I want! I know what I’m grateful for. And I don’t want this!
Today I’m getting the abnormal lymph nodes biopsied. It’s a fine needle biopsy. They stick a long thin needle in my neck and draw fluid, cells. After that I wait. I wait for the lab to look at what they took. I wait for the doctor to call me and tell me if I have cancer again. And if I do, I have to go under the knife again. And if it’s nothing I will be relieved. So please, think good thoughts for me and light a candle or 10. I love you. i love you. i love you. Xo
years ago….. (part 2):
(continued from the LAST post)
so, the first surgery had determined- I had papillary thyroid cancer. The second surgery was easier. It was as though my body was a seasoned pro. I was still in a ton of pain when I came to, but I was eating more quickly than I had after the first operation. And according to everyone around me: nurses, my mom, my bf, and my friend skip- I wasn’t as pale. No dad visit again. OK. He would have made it harder. He would have annoyed me, rattled me, made me anxious due to him being so rude and antagonistic. He probably would have cringed seeing me because he doesn’t know how to handle situations that call for tenderness, calm, or unconditional love.
At least I had my boyfriend. Or at least that’s how I felt before he visited me at the hospital one day, while I was recovering, got into bed with me reeking of booze and told me he drank a bottle of cooking wine and might need to go to aa. I’m so glad he didn’t make it all about him. Phew! him in bed with me, crammed into a bed smaller than a twin size, tugged at the iv in my arm. This was not comfortable. Sometimes you get sick because it’s your body’s way of making you slow down and get quiet- so you can look at life, look at YOUR life, and realize what’s important, what isn’t, what you want and what you do not want, realize what you’re grateful and thankful for.
Now I had no thyroid and they had removed some lymph nodes/scraping the inside of my neck. I did radiation and my head swelled up like I was a 400 pound woman, and yet my body remained the same. embarrassing! riiight! I can’t remember the order of all the procedures. Maybe they found residual stuff in my lymph nodes after the second surgery and then did the radiation? Then a second radiation because it wasn’t taking? either or.
It seemed like everything was finally OK. although, the radiation fucked with my salivary glands a bit- more specifically, my parotid glands. So for a while, and even to this day- if I eat something too crazy sour or salty, I might feel like the area between my earlobes and jawline is swelling. is it a real swelling or a phantom swelling? It’s always different. Drinking water makes it calm down and go back to normal. Nobody notices but me, it’s so subtle. but I notice.
in the four years that followed, each and EVERY year- I had to go on what’s called a ‘low iodine diet’ to prepare for a full body scan to make sure the cancer hadn’t come back. And for the past four years, each scan has been clear of any residual cancer. Yay! But my doctor started to worry me. She’s on a few too many reality shows! I felt her office was a bit jumbled and I didn’t like the front office’s attitude or organization. So I decided to mix it up. i asked around, to potentially see a new endocrinologist. well, he doesn’t look like house, but i found one! (to be continued)
years ago…..
I was living in japan when I noticed a lump in my neck. Holy shit, if you looked too closely, it looked like an Adam’s apple. When I got back to la, I made sure to see a doctor. THAT doctor referred me to a specialist: an endocrinologist, they specialize in an organ called the thyroid. turned out the lump was just a benign (cancer free) nodule. kinda like an internal blister (in my fucking neck. gross!). it was filled with liquid, which they would drain about once a month, so that the lump wouldn’t be noticeable. and every time i went to the hospital to have a needle stuck in my neck, and fluid removed, they would have the fluid sent to a lab and checked- just to make sure it was still benign/cancer free.
well, one day, after yet another routine drainage (after years of sooo many fine needle biopsy’s, aspirations, and drainings): this time when the fluid was analyzed, the doctors found abnormal cells. Oh no! What did this mean? Abnormal cells? Did that mean I have cancer? But they couldn’t tell me. The only way they could officially find out was to operate and take out my thyroid. Now, I don’t expect anyone to know this- but the thyroid is a very necessary and vital organ in your body. It regulates/controls your metabolism, heating system, etc. bottom line is, you need it. It is possible to survive with only half a thyroid- so that’s what I decided, opted to do! if the cancer was only a possibility and not definite, and the only way to find out was to operate, I would only have half of it removed. the doctor suggested this as her preferred option! so i said ok!
i was scared. do you know that prior to surgery, you have to mark the hand or shoulder of the side of your body that’s being operated on with a marker pen? just in case? as i was wheeled into surgery, i thought about how we put celebrities on pedestals and read tabloids about actors and musicians- but it’s times like these you realize the real stars are nurses and doctors. a doctor can save your life! and a nice nurse is a god send. they make you smile, help you pee, bring you jello, hold your hand, fix what’s hurting, clean up the blood, vomit, up the dose, etc. the first surgery was a very painful process. not during. i was out cold. it’s the waking up part after anesthesia that’s the worst. I had an allergic reaction to the anesthesia, even though the nurses give you something to prevent this very thing from happening BEFORE giving you the actual anesthesia. Waking up; the nauseousness, the deep painful ache from the incision, the iv in your arm. It’s sooo cold in post op. goosebumps! your whole body aches. was there a tube down my throat? oh no, wait, that’s another story I’ve yet to tell you. post op, every little thing is amplified. Noise is piercing as you come in and out of consciousness. the other post op victims moaning and groaning! And after I was conscious, I learned that I did indeed have cancer.
it had spread to my lymph nodes. They would have to go back in and remove the other half. This was around thanksgiving about five years ago. I went home a few days after the first surgery, and had my thanksgiving dinner. I was a moody, grumpy bitch. I sat at a table in my apartment in beachwood canyon with my mom and my then fiance/boyfriend. I was rude to my mom, and she left. Gee, I wonder why I was rude. But she left and took it all very personally. A week later, I went back in for surgery number two. My dad didn’t go to either of the surgeries. we had got into an argument over the phone the day before the first surgery and I said something along the lines of ‘fine, don’t come to my surgery!’ So he didn’t. I thought he might visit me post-op or at least when I was told I actually had cancer, but he didn’t then either. Oh well. We don’t pick our family. (to be continued)
ex-boyfriends, youth, and french fries (part 2):
As I walked to the parking lot, I had an urge to drive to the valley, over crescent heights which turns into laurel canyon, and go somewhere, ANYWHERE on Ventura blvd. Maybe Twain’s (a more mom and pop version of Denny’s. It’s a coffee shop. Not so corporate. Old timey, 50′s style). but I didn’t need anything there. I used to go there when I was 14, 15, 16- when I’d just started wearing mascara- hanging out with the bad kids at school, seeing bands play, smoking cigs (I don’t smoke anymore- it’s way too gnarly bad for you, and makes you look like leather face- even though it looks super cool in a photo, especially if it’s black and white!) I used to go there and talk shit with people I don’t even know anymore. People I probably didn’t even like at the time! who i knew meant nothing to me. And yet I filled my social calender hanging out with them. aching for their approval! never wanting to miss a get together, show, hangout, whatevs- out of fear they might talk shit about me, or that something epic might happen and i’d miss it.
i guess i also just wanted to leave my room and get out of my moms house in north Hollywood. at the time, i didn’t have my license OR a car yet- so ANYONE willing to pick me up and drive me somewhere was a legend! and being anywhere, out and about with people my age- mean or not, made me feel so important and excited. like we were so powerful and cool and could take over the world. I let their opinion and acceptance of me matter. but who were these people? Sometimes who you go to school with or who you hang out with is decided by/simply because of convenience. I used to order grilled cheese sandwiches and french fries that I would dip in ketchup and ranch dressing. We saw the rocky horror picture show at the Nuart theatre. And stayed up at Twain’s drinking tons of coffee (mine with lots of milk and sugar).
for some reason- I wanted to reconnect with this side of myself. I wanted to tap into my youth. like, say hi to it or something. Apologize for it being over. Apologize for thinking it was so painful- even though, even now, I know it was! Those teen years were dark and brutal. Maybe I wanted to drive over the hill and revisit my past youth because it was raining and I’m in the midst of mourning the death of something- moving onto bigger and better things- and aware of the fact that I know myself now- and I’m happy and centered and excited. Maybe I wanted to mix the two together: my childhood innocence with who I am now. I wanted them both at once. But I decided that I didn’t need to go to Twain’s to do that. I wasn’t hungry, I’ll always be 16 in my heart, and the September issue was playing at the sunset 5 in 20 minutes. I had other shit to do! Halloween was around the corner, and I totally planned on going trick or treating, watching scary movies, having drinks at a party, and going to a pumpkin patch! I’m totally youthful! I just don’t smoke anymore, i eat way healthier, have my own car, apartment, and actually like/love the people in my life. life is better now. Fuck Twain’s! Xo
ex-boyfriends, youth, and french fries:
I saw my most recent ex for the first time in a month. It was his birthday. It was friendly, quick, silly, and only slightly awkward. I don’t want anything from him. I don’t need anything from him- so it wasn’t filled with painful longing or remorse for what was- it was more a sneak peak, or evidence that he could be/might be a best friend. I have so much love for him. And yet- and he feels the same way- not being together was/is a good decision. After he left, with no kissing or anything-just hugs that he wasn’t really comfortable with me giving him- I went to m cafe.
I sat alone. it was raining outside. they have valet at night now which is new and totally annoying. the stipulation is that it’s free the first hour and $3 after. Ugh! isn’t m cafe expensive enough?! god dammit! next time, I have to make sure I only park in the front (a non valet zone). I hate when valet dudes have to take your keys. I understand when they’re actually PARKING my car FOR me, or when it’s hectic and busy and cars are gonna have to be moved and re-parked like a puzzle- but it was a desolate rainy night, so i parked my car myself- and ran before he could even ASK for my keys. I just wasn’t prepared for the unveiling of this unexpected/out of the blue confrontation at my home away from home. plus, I had no cash to tip with- which always makes me feel like a major dickhead. maybe my period was making me moody.
I left m in JUST under an hour, and went to rite aide on sunset to buy feminine protection, which still embarrasses me and makes me uuber shy. I prayed I didn’t run into Madonna or Ben Affleck or something! I didn’t. phew. I used to be so scared and ashamed, when buying Tampax, that I would grab a paper bag on my way in- and when I got the box, I’d stuff it into the bag and take it up to the register. My friends would always say ‘aren’t you afraid they’ll think you’re shoplifting?’ But, no. I wasn’t scared at all. first of all, i WASN’T shoplifting. second: the best way to shop lift, so no one notices you, is to act like you’re not doing anything wrong, which is how i acted. and 3rd, 4th, and 5th: I’m super tall, with an extreme haircut. how could you miss me? wouldn’t a shoplifter be a little more incognito? incognito is not an option when you’re me. plus, I’m a clean cut looking white GIRL. right or wrong, I’m usually given the benefit of the doubt. be it a moving violation or eating food i’ve yet to purchase at the supermarket, or stuffing an unpaid box of tampax into a paper bag at the local drug store- all these things put together add up to me never being put in jail. I’m sorry, these are the perks of being female and Caucasian. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m just saying I can (unfortunately) get away with a lot more than others. Too bad I don’t have any urge to be a murderer! but tonight, I didn’t pre-bag the Tampax box, I held it firmly in my left hand, clung to my side. not quite fearless, but not as ashamed as usual. a happy medium? i suppose. (to be continued)
alone at a party:
one of the most horrible things about getting out of a relationship is being at a party and not having your eye on anyone as a potential make-out or sexy rendezvous. it is in that moment you realize ‘i am truly alone’. sure, you can rationalize it in different ways like ‘you’re never really alone when you have your friends around’ or ‘you’re not alone if you’re in close proximity to other human beings who are making direct eye contact and speaking with you’. or, ‘like hey, what if i was at this party alone cuz my bf was out of town or something?’ well, he’s not. you’re single! who knows where your bf is? cuz you don’t have one and your ex is probably fucking a 17 year old boy, i mean girl, somewhere.
you are alone in the sense that- you have no one who is one phone call away- willing/able/actually excited/maybe even generally interested in listening to all your boring, i mean personal, stories/woes/rants/daily sagas. you have no one to check in with. your mom and bff don’t count. i mean they do, but that’s not what i’m talking about.
tonight i went to a party and i was excited. that’s the great thing about being single- you never know what’s gonna happen or who you’re gonna meet. (that’s ACTUALLY the great thing about life in general. you just ‘never know’- good OR bad!) but you also have to prepare for it to be a bust too! and tonight, romantically speaking- it was. BUT i met great women and was comfortable in my skin and all that. i had a nice time. i did. for the first time, i didn’t make the night a winning situation ONLY if i put my attention on some cute guy and conquered him for the evening. whether conquering means making out/sexxing/gaining approval via attention/ or whatevs! no guy there ‘did it’ for me, and that was actually ok.
i still haven’t had sex since my break up. when was that again? about a month and a half ago? i hadn’t had sex two weeks prior to the break up either! shit, so it’s been like two months!? holy shit! i’m dying over here! i am a living, breathing example of how women need/want/crave sex too! I’m not saying I’ve been an angel. I’ve totally done everything but have sexxx- but being finger blasted and oral sexxx is just not the same.
I’ve changed since the ‘me’ before my last relationship. i don’t want to get naked with some random dude. (ok, maybe a few) I’m a girl who’s not super ugly. I’m not gonna lie- I’ve had opportunities. it could have already happened- but i feel like I’m a virgin all over again and I’m waiting for the PERFECT person to take my new-found virginity. i also REALLY don’t want to get herpes aids cancer aids.
more and more i need the guy i have sex with or even fool around with to be someone i can talk to; i have to actually give a fuck what he has to say; i need him to be/seem GENUINLY interested in me; and who is someone i can be/feel safe with. even if he isn’t the one- i need someone to know/think I’m special. someone who gets me- before he can be inside me. what’s that saying? a friend with benefits? (ugh. i can’t believe i just typed that.) and i’m learning that THAT is rare to find. so, until then, i will keep busy with work, spend time with my friends, and touch my privates all on my own. and at least when i finger blast myself, i’ll have the courtesy to wash my hands first!
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Friend Alexi
