My social fluttering has not diminished in any way since I moved here. As a matter of fact, the momentum is starting to pick up with spring events. I went to an event the other night with a friend of mine whom I will refer to as Robert. I’ve known Robert for some time now (he’s a co-collaborator of mine turned friend) and our interaction has been nothing more then friendly. Anyway, towards the end of the event he mentioned his wife in conversation. Taken aback, I told him “Robert, I had no idea you were married? All this time I’ve known you, you have never mentioned your wife. I’ve heard about your ex-wife and your children but not your present wife.”
Surprised himself, Robert responded “really, you didn’t know?” and lifted up his wedding finger.
I told him that I am awful when it comes to looking at anyone’s wedding ring and fingers and, that I just found it interesting that he hadn’t mentioned his wife that’s all. An hour later Robert asked that we discuss the topic again and I could sense a bit of apprehension. He said he realizes that he hasn’t mentioned his spouse and that it was a subconscious act. He recalled a past dinner we had to address career prospecting issues and, although we picked the restaurant on a whim, he felt it was a romantic setting. I on the other hand felt like I was reliving an Al Capone scene. I clarified to Robert that the romantic setting he felt wasn’t so for me then I shared my views on marriage and infidelity.
Forever is a long time when you aren’t happy or living a fulfilling life with someone. As for me, my enthusiastic lovelorn stroll down the church isle turned into an escape strategy after five years of marriage. I found myself trapped in turmoil which had developed within me after our marriage grew distant and our sexual compatibility became non-existent. Chris is still the wonderful person I had married back in 2001 but our time together just simply passed and the saddest part for me was that our love wasn’t strong enough to withstand the trials and tribulations of a relationship. I saw the funeral of our marriage coming along with the wake of heartache it was going to cause and recalled the powerful vows I had professed to Chris in front of all our loved ones. I honestly saw myself growing old with him and loving it. Like “The Notebook!” God, we were sooo in love once.
It took me two years of Pro’s and Con’s lists to realize it was time to quit something that wasn’t working for either of us- mainly because it wasn’t working for me. There are many people who don’t leave their marriages because the prospect of a new life seems like such a hassle. The day I left Chris was the day I accepted the fact that I no longer loved him enough…the time had come to set us free. Otherwise, I would have found opportunities to not mention the fact that I was married- just like Robert.
I could see the embarrassment and angst in Robert’s eyes and I assured him that I didn’t think he was a pervert in any way. I'm someone who negotiates with muggers so it's safe to enter my arena. He is just someone living an unfulfilling life and needs to find peace. It won't happen with me because my heart belongs to someone else right now.
Monday, 30 March 2009
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
We're Not in Kansas Anymore Toto!
I was mugged this past Friday on my way to work. Chicago’s subway system for the most part runs above street level but a good portion runs below ground. I was amidst a popular shopping district at the time of my incident. There is a Crate & Barrel, Pottery Barn, Old Navy, Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, and other brand concept stores within a one mile radius, plus it was 11 o’clock in the morning!
After purchasing a transit card, I proceeded down the stairs to the lower platform where I noticed a city attendant sweeping and collecting waste from the garbage container. I also noticed the mid-forties male wearing an orange, pull-over hoodie and brown baseball cap. He was happily whistling and did not come across as a derelict. The city attendant eventually left and you could hear the sound of the train coming. I looked down the tunnel glad to see headlights and caught the gentleman’s glance. “How’s it going?” he asked. “Great” I said and looked down at my iPhone to confirm the time, 11:08 a.m. I’m doing great time I thought and threw my phone in my purse. I then noticed him walking towards me but the train was on it’s way full of people that I thought nothing of it…plus he was still whistling like a seventh dwarf.
Next thing I know an arm comes across my shoulder and around my neck from behind. I immediately thought he was hugging me and trying to come onto me because he wasn’t forceful. “Hello?” I said.
“Give me your wallet.” He demanded with a whispering voice. I then realized he didn’t want to hug or kiss nor, did he seem to be carrying a weapon.
“My wallet? You don’t want my wallet!” I told him. So many things flood through your head in circumstances like these and you never know how you’ll react. Panic, scream, cry, faint, jolt, or start flailing about. I resorted to reasoning with him in a calming manner.
“Just give me your wallet!” he persisted.
“Honey, I’m telling you, you don’t want my wallet. My cards are maxed out and you’ll get nothing out of them.”
“I just saw you get cash.”
I reached into my front pocket and pulled out two $20 bills and said “here, take the cash but you don’t really want my wallet.”
Ladies and Gentlemen, he insisted on asking for my credit cards and wouldn’t take my money. Okay, where is the fricken train! This guy is not only nervous but, he is not a professional mugger. A professional would have whacked me in the face by now and snatched my purse- not listen to my negotiating tactics. Okay, I am going to stall until that train pulls up so the herd can pour out and scare him off. I opened my purse pretending to look for my wallet and saw my iPhone right away. OMG, I can’t afford to replace my iPhone again! He started to reach in and I grabbed his hand, “just wait a minute! I will give you my wallet!” and handed it to him. He grabbed it and started to run up the stairwell which, at that point the train was FINALLY pulling up so I began to run after him. I grabbed his hood and he turned around and pushed me down. At this point I quickly gathered my purse and hopped on the train. Once inside I realized how naïve, chancy and lucky I was. SAN DIEGO GIRL FOR SURE. Well, I now carry mace plus a whistle with me and, I will be holding a self-defense intro at my home in the next few weeks.
After purchasing a transit card, I proceeded down the stairs to the lower platform where I noticed a city attendant sweeping and collecting waste from the garbage container. I also noticed the mid-forties male wearing an orange, pull-over hoodie and brown baseball cap. He was happily whistling and did not come across as a derelict. The city attendant eventually left and you could hear the sound of the train coming. I looked down the tunnel glad to see headlights and caught the gentleman’s glance. “How’s it going?” he asked. “Great” I said and looked down at my iPhone to confirm the time, 11:08 a.m. I’m doing great time I thought and threw my phone in my purse. I then noticed him walking towards me but the train was on it’s way full of people that I thought nothing of it…plus he was still whistling like a seventh dwarf.
Next thing I know an arm comes across my shoulder and around my neck from behind. I immediately thought he was hugging me and trying to come onto me because he wasn’t forceful. “Hello?” I said.
“Give me your wallet.” He demanded with a whispering voice. I then realized he didn’t want to hug or kiss nor, did he seem to be carrying a weapon.
“My wallet? You don’t want my wallet!” I told him. So many things flood through your head in circumstances like these and you never know how you’ll react. Panic, scream, cry, faint, jolt, or start flailing about. I resorted to reasoning with him in a calming manner.
“Just give me your wallet!” he persisted.
“Honey, I’m telling you, you don’t want my wallet. My cards are maxed out and you’ll get nothing out of them.”
“I just saw you get cash.”
I reached into my front pocket and pulled out two $20 bills and said “here, take the cash but you don’t really want my wallet.”
Ladies and Gentlemen, he insisted on asking for my credit cards and wouldn’t take my money. Okay, where is the fricken train! This guy is not only nervous but, he is not a professional mugger. A professional would have whacked me in the face by now and snatched my purse- not listen to my negotiating tactics. Okay, I am going to stall until that train pulls up so the herd can pour out and scare him off. I opened my purse pretending to look for my wallet and saw my iPhone right away. OMG, I can’t afford to replace my iPhone again! He started to reach in and I grabbed his hand, “just wait a minute! I will give you my wallet!” and handed it to him. He grabbed it and started to run up the stairwell which, at that point the train was FINALLY pulling up so I began to run after him. I grabbed his hood and he turned around and pushed me down. At this point I quickly gathered my purse and hopped on the train. Once inside I realized how naïve, chancy and lucky I was. SAN DIEGO GIRL FOR SURE. Well, I now carry mace plus a whistle with me and, I will be holding a self-defense intro at my home in the next few weeks.
Thursday, 5 March 2009
Stop! Drop!...and Roll!
Monday was moving day for me and I am now living with a very close friend of mine, Tracy whom I originally met back in San Diego. Last September I was very saddened to hear that she was moving to Chicago but, little did we know that we’d be reunited soon there after. We kicked off the celebration with an evening of backgammon at The Parthenon restaurant in the company of our sensational friend, Patricia. Afterwards the three of us met up with one of Tracy’s beaus at The Peninsula Lounge and somewhere around 1 a.m. the question “what’s one of the craziest things you’ve ever done?” arose. Here is ONE of my personal memories I shared that night:
About three years ago I was the third wheel of a date with a friend of mine at The Cannery in Newport Beach, CA. We were through with dinner by 8:30 p.m. and Niki asked Mike if we could go to a strip bar. Now, besides the male stripper at my bachelorette party back in 2001, I had never entertained an evening at a gentleman’s club and my eyes lit up at the thought of a new experience. I said “Yes! I’ve never had a lap dance by another woman and would like to see what it would be like.” Mike drove us to The Library a few miles away and upon paying our entrance fee, the gentleman at the door asked if we were there for amateur night. I said no, I am here to get my very first lap dance and in we went. I carefully assessed the inventory of vixens parading around the room to select the perfect one for a memorable first experience. Within a couple of minutes a beauty approached me and asked if I was there for their amateur night. I said no and stated my true intentions. She encouraged me to consider it and my friend Niki egged this notion as well.
“Are you kidding!” I mocked, “I’ll be like Lucy Ricardo up on that stage! Besides, I don’t have an outfit.” Next thing I know I’m in the dressing room looking through corsets, and three tequila shots later I’m standing in a line backstage with the selection of two Prince songs and ‘Rio’ as my stage name. Seeing that Niki had a background in professional dancing, her advice was to dance really slow, circle the stage a couple of times and stay clear of the pole. If anxiety sets in due to lack of moves then your next move is to Stop! Drop on your knees and crawl, then Roll back into another move.
By the time my number came up the tequila was starting to create an unpleasant feeling of constipation clearly not aiding my nerves. Then the girl behind me shoved me through the velvet curtain into the blinding colorful lights. You have NO idea how long one song can be under such circumstances. I did my slow, stage parading moves (1 minute) and, I glanced at the pole knowing my paralytic future that would await me if I attempted anything creative. With that in mind, I proceeded to play it safe by only rubbing my arse up and down the side of the pole. By this point I couldn’t tell the laughter apart from the applause and my moves had been exhausted. Anxiety had set in so I proceeded with the Stop! Drop! and Roll! advice. Then song number TWO came on….aggghhhh, stop the bleeding! I repeated the whole Lucy Ricardo stint but this time my drop went into a scissors split pose- OUCH! and my roll was off the stage onto the floor where my friends graciously pick me up.
I won second place that night with a $600 reward for my entertainment and that was the last night The Library opened their doors.
About three years ago I was the third wheel of a date with a friend of mine at The Cannery in Newport Beach, CA. We were through with dinner by 8:30 p.m. and Niki asked Mike if we could go to a strip bar. Now, besides the male stripper at my bachelorette party back in 2001, I had never entertained an evening at a gentleman’s club and my eyes lit up at the thought of a new experience. I said “Yes! I’ve never had a lap dance by another woman and would like to see what it would be like.” Mike drove us to The Library a few miles away and upon paying our entrance fee, the gentleman at the door asked if we were there for amateur night. I said no, I am here to get my very first lap dance and in we went. I carefully assessed the inventory of vixens parading around the room to select the perfect one for a memorable first experience. Within a couple of minutes a beauty approached me and asked if I was there for their amateur night. I said no and stated my true intentions. She encouraged me to consider it and my friend Niki egged this notion as well.
“Are you kidding!” I mocked, “I’ll be like Lucy Ricardo up on that stage! Besides, I don’t have an outfit.” Next thing I know I’m in the dressing room looking through corsets, and three tequila shots later I’m standing in a line backstage with the selection of two Prince songs and ‘Rio’ as my stage name. Seeing that Niki had a background in professional dancing, her advice was to dance really slow, circle the stage a couple of times and stay clear of the pole. If anxiety sets in due to lack of moves then your next move is to Stop! Drop on your knees and crawl, then Roll back into another move.
By the time my number came up the tequila was starting to create an unpleasant feeling of constipation clearly not aiding my nerves. Then the girl behind me shoved me through the velvet curtain into the blinding colorful lights. You have NO idea how long one song can be under such circumstances. I did my slow, stage parading moves (1 minute) and, I glanced at the pole knowing my paralytic future that would await me if I attempted anything creative. With that in mind, I proceeded to play it safe by only rubbing my arse up and down the side of the pole. By this point I couldn’t tell the laughter apart from the applause and my moves had been exhausted. Anxiety had set in so I proceeded with the Stop! Drop! and Roll! advice. Then song number TWO came on….aggghhhh, stop the bleeding! I repeated the whole Lucy Ricardo stint but this time my drop went into a scissors split pose- OUCH! and my roll was off the stage onto the floor where my friends graciously pick me up.
I won second place that night with a $600 reward for my entertainment and that was the last night The Library opened their doors.
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