I'VE MOVED

I've moved my blogging home over to wordpress (yes, I'm following the trend...)

So delete this addy from your bookmarks and join me over at http://gracelessinlove.wordpress.com

See ya there! :-)

I'll have what she's having!

As I mentioned before, Tisa has finally moved her ass down to Nashville. Thank God. I’ve needed her! She and I have moved into a fabulous house near downtown, within walking distance to popular bars and restaurants (and a block over from Rovers house). Things have been going so well. And then she had to go and do it.

She got a boyfriend.

But she didn’t get just any boyfriend, she hit the motherload. This guy has been so smitten with her, that within a week, he wisked her off to South Beach for three days of fun and sun. Why? In his words “I just want three whole days to get to know you.”

The following weekend, he had to go up to Atlantic City with a major country band that he is involved with somehow. Tisa and I have two friends up in Philadelphia who are dear dear college friends of ours. This new boyfriend arranged for these friends to come out to Atlantic City and get VIP treatment at this concert so that they could meet him and approve of him. He then flew Tisa up FOR THE NIGHT so that she could see our friends for the first time in two years.

Tisa is also slated to go to the CMT Awards, the ACM Awards in Las Vegas and she’s going to be having dinner at HUGE COUNTRY STAR’s home soon. Oh, did I mention that he’s buying her dresses for all these events?

Where the hell did this guy come from? They have been together now almost three weeks. I’ve just been in shock just watching this whirlwind happen.

And… I’d be lying if I wasn’t a teensy tiny bit jealous. It’s not the sickening amount of cash that flying around that’s making me jealous. Not at all. It’s the amount of affection he has for her and the fact that he wants to see her all the time and include her in his activities. All I have is two douchebags that take turns standing me up. I guess it really is quality, not quantity.

I look at her and her ability to snag the most adoring man ever, and then I look at me and my track record of less-than-desirable dudes. Over the past year, I have gone out on countless dates and been involved with quite a few pretty damn good guys, but none of them were interested in being “serious” with me. And now I have to look at the common denominator with all these guys…. Me. I must be putting out some sort of vibe that I don’t want to be serious with anyone, when in fact, that’s all I want. I just want one guy, one relationship, stability, exclusivity.

But something is going wrong. I wonder what I’m doing… I think I need to create some sort of survey and ask my guy friends, or the guys I recently dated why I’m not “the settlin’ type” to them?

WHO IS JOHN GALT Part II

There is so much more to the John Galt/Grace Romance that I haven’t been able to share with you (cause I’m paralyzed by an awful laziness that prevents me from typing more than thirty words at a time).

John and I are two peas in pod. Cut from the same cloth. Share a brain. You pick the cliché to describe our incredible connection.

Seldom a day goes by without a phone call or instant message between us. There are periods of time when John will stop calling me, and I now know (from a drunken admission from him) that it’s because he’s scared of his feelings for me and our chemistry, so he runs from it. But I always call him on it and he comes back.

I’m trying to describe my connection to him without getting too precious or sentimental… I know if someone were telling ME this kind of thing, I would have vomited by now.

John and I can’t have a two-minute conversation. They always turn into two-hour (or two day!) conversations, and time passes so easily between us.

A few weeks ago, John met a woman out for cocktails after work—he didn’t realize that she had meant it to be a date, he thought it was a work-thing, but they met at a new condo high-rise in downtown Nashville where she is a realtor. She was giving him a tour of all the different condos and what was he doing? Sending me picture messages of all the glorious views because he knew I shared his appreciate for urban landscapes and architecture. He called me later that night, saying they were at Past Perfect, a bar downtown where my roommate (Tisa—she finally moved here!) works and he said I should come down and meet up with them. Actually he begged me to. It was the same night that Rover had broken plans with me (which is why I called him an asshole in that “concert post” I wrote a few weeks back) and I was feeling really down in the dumps, so I took John up on it.

When I walked into Past Perfect, I quickly spotted John and his “date” (now known as The Freak) sitting at the bar. John pulled a chair between the two of them for me to sit in. If The Freak was thinking that it was a date, it suddenly took a wrong turn. Who has another woman join you on a date?? ☺ lol….

From that moment, The Freak was invisible to John. He and I were suddenly the stars of the show. She suddenly found herself on a Fantastic Date. It just wasn’t HER date.

John and I decided that Past Perfect wasn’t hitting the spot and the only thing we needed at that moment was a little Karaoke. The Freak thought that was an awful idea…. Too bad she didn’t have much say about it. We headed a block over to Wannabe’s and got our sing on.

When we walked in, John realized the gaggle of guys hanging by the bar was a troop of 101st Airborne soldiers on leave from Ft. Campbell. John’s employer is pretty lenient about expense accounts, especially if there are soldiers involved, so John declared that “They’re tab is on me!” We quickly became the most popular couple among the boys from Ft. Campbell.

As the night worn on, the tequila was flowing generously and John had sung more than one Neil Diamond song, he became more and more affectionate with me. He made his grandest sign of affection when he announced quite loudly to the bar that I was “the girl he was going to marry!” He spun me around, dipped me, and kissed me a la WWII homecoming in Times Square.

I just wish the bastard wasn’t technically married.

(remember, I say technically, because the divorce hasn’t been finalized yet).

See, he and I just click. We’ve solved the crisis of the music business at least half a dozen times (but never quite implemented our plan of action), we have written a thousand songs together (yet never wrote a single one down) and we just make each other laugh constantly.

The problem I’ve been having with Rover and John is that I have feelings for both of them. I’ve just been hoping that one or the other would break out in the lead—they’ve been neck and neck for so long. Rover always had the advantage because he was married in the eyes of the law, but John and I just have…. Incredible chemistry. But I always knew that either one of them would make me happy in one way or another.

Blue Eyes

I broke up with Rover.

Breaking up may not be the best definition, because in order to "break up" you must be “together” at some point, which we never really were. Which is why we broke up. I guess I just need to call it a break up for lack of a better word.

Things have been going great with him the past few months… he calls me, we see each other, have a great time, etc. My feelings for him were growing stronger and stronger until one day I realized I was in love with him. (And he, when drunkish, would tell me he loved me as well—romantic, I know). But he does some really inconsiderate things like breaking plans with me habitually, which irks me. For the longest time, it only pissed me off—it didn’t hurt me. But lately, when I realized that I was completely head-over-heels-in-love with him, it began to hurt.

So I made the decision that, to save my heart, we needed to end things. And now my heart is broken anyway.

I’m wondering if maybe I made a big mistake. Or is that just “Break Up Remorse?” When I broke up with Stavros, I didn’t have that remorse. I knew it was the right thing to do and it was for the good of all involved. I never once had a second thought about it, and I was with the guy for over four years. But the minute that I started the conversation with Rover, I wondered if I was doing the right thing.

Suddenly I have a thousand things I want to say to him. Our days have always been sprinkled with funny emails and text messages back and forth and I miss that. He’s always been good for a laugh or a supportive comment when things weren’t going well. He’s a fantastic movie partner and I adore going to hockey games with him. Or going anywhere with him.

Sounds a lot like we were “together,” huh? Suddenly it sounds that way to me, but there were never any definitions and we had no exclusivity agreement.
Thinking through it now, I think what I wanted most from him was a definition. I didn’t need any more time commitments from him, cause neither of us have the time to give anyway. I just wanted to have a label and a little exclusivity. Why the hell didn’t I just ask him for that? Instead of asking for what I wanted, I think out of fear of not getting it, I ended things instead.

God I miss him.

Side effects of a good shag...

I saw this article today on Yahoo news:

PASSENGERS WHO FELL SEEK PRIVACY

GALVESTON, Texas - A man who fell about 50 feet from a cruise ship was released from the ship's medical center Monday, and a woman who also fell plans to have follow-up testing on land, the cruise line said.

The 22-year-old man and 20-year-old woman had only minor injuries after falling into the Gulf of Mexico from a balcony on the Grand Princess ship, said Julie Benson, a spokeswoman for Princess Cruises. They have asked that the circumstances remain private and requested that no personal information be released.

The man planned to continue on the cruise, while the woman planned to disembark Monday in Mexico, Benson said. The rescued passengers were not married, Benson said. She did not know how long they had known each other.

The Grand Princess was about 150 miles off Galveston when friends notified the crew early Sunday that the two had fallen, Benson said.

The captain turned the ship around, and the crew used high-powered spotlights to scan the water and launched rescue boats to find them.

"Just falling 50 feet, you can do some serious damage and basically knock the wind out of you," said Coast Guard swimmer Micah Franklin, who participated in the four-hour rescue. "If you survive that part, then you've got, depending on your swimming ability, how long are you going to be able to survive in the seas."

The waves were swelling up to 6 feet, and the wind was gusting to 30 mph, Franklin told NBC's "Today" show Monday. He said he was impressed that the two survived.

The railing around the cabin balcony is at least 4 feet high and meets all standard safety requirements, she said.

The ship was on its way to Costa Maya, Mexico, Benson said. The Grand Princess was carrying 2,783 passengers on a seven-day tour of the western Caribbean.


Anyone care to speculate how both feel off a balcony, when the ship didn't list and the railing was intact and BOTH parties fell AND now they don't want to talk about the circumstances that led them to leave the cruise ship in the most unconventional manner?

I have MY theories....

Gets Me The Most

Yes yes yes, I know it's been too long. Things have gotten nuts. I won't bore you with the details/excuses. But I do have lots to blog about.... oh yes.... but in the meantime... somethingt that struck me tonight.


Some single people have problems eating dinner at a restaurant alone. Not me. I've done it hundreds of times. I don't even have to have a book with me to make it look like it's a choice to look as pitiful as I might. I sit there, drink a lovely glass of wine (or maybe a martini if I'm feeling saucy) and enjoy my own company. You know, I am quite fun to be with, so it's nice to take myself on a date every now and then.

I also don't have any problem going to the movies by myself. When time allows, I might actually go solo to a flick once a week. Single shopping also doesn't bother me. I prefer it, actually. In fact, there are few activities that, done as a single, embarrass or depress me.

There is one, however.

Going to see concerts.

In Nashville, on any given night, there is an amazing musician playing somewhere. I'm quite in love with the local independent radio station, Lightening 100, and the artists that get played on their airwaves make their way through Nashville a lot. There is a chance, at least once a week, that for less than $20 I can go see a fantastic indie band/artist play. This is why I love Nashville.

But music is my passion. And all I want to do is share my passions with someone special.

Tonight, I went and saw James Hunter (www.myspace.com/jameshuntermusic). A.Maz.Ing. And his opening act was Serena Ryder, who was also equally amazing in her own right. And the whole time I was so sad because I didn't have anyone there to share it with. I wanted someone that I could turn to and say "Can you believe you just heard that!?"

I put out three invites today. Sorta. My first choice was John Galt. I knew he'd love it, but he had been feeling under the weather (both physically and emotionally) this morning, and throughout the day, pooped out about going. Next choice was DB, but he was comfortably settled in his house, after a long vacation out of the country. Rover was the last choice (story to follow soon why he has fallen out of favor... once again...) but he is just a plain asshole, so he was out.

By myself I went.

Unfortunately for me and my lonely self, James plays dancing music. Not dancing music that you hear on Top 40 stations today... think Sam Cooke. That kind of dancing music. Music that covertly tells the other person you want to make love to them... not like the trash you hear on the radio today.

"Old Soul" music. All I wanted to do was dance.

I know it sounds oh-so-pitiful, but concerts, to me, are the worst to be alone at. In the words of one of those damned Disney princesses my neices love so much: "Some day my prince will come....."

Oy... that thought just made me throw up a little in my mouth. Forgive me for that pitiful sentimentality :-)

Must go before I turn into a cheesy hallmark card.

What if....

As I was watching Grey's Anatomy online tonight (I don't have a tv.... long story....), I heard a quote that sums up my neurosis of the past four years. I won't get into it now. I probably won't get into it ever. But it's something to think about....

What is the thing who defines who you are is suddenly gone forever?