Must win, repeat MUST WIN!!

Okay, short entry here. I was kinda, sorta, maybe casually "hanging out" with this guy late November/early December. Okay, truth is, sometimes you just need a cuddle, or at least, that's how my dog explains it. Let's call him Bartender Bob. 'BB' and I hung out a few times, nothing crazy, nothing serious. He often ended the evening with a sweet smooch and letting me know that I should not fall off the face of the earth. Well, I often did.
So after several cuddly reunions, I really fell off the face of the earth. I saw BB on facebook one day recently and said "hey". After the obligatory "I didn't call cuz'..." blatherings, I cut BB off mid-sentence and just said, "No worries, I don't think we are actually that into each other anyways, so let's not try that any more." Pause.
BB then had to peel his smooshy ego up off of the floor to come back with a "I am so glad we are on the same page." He then didn't reply to my offering of a drink and book discussion, both of which, I still genuinely want to share with him.
I just want to point out, that even with a 'we' phrase inserted to allow for no hard feelings, boys don't seem to do well with being dumped and like to find ways to make it seem like it was their idea. San Diego dude from over the summer did the same. After inviting me to spend the weekend with him in San Diego on our first (and only) date, I declined a dinner invitation admitting that there was no spark (he was one of those guys that only asked questions that he could then turn into personal experiences of his own, and boring ones at that). He said that he felt the same way and was going to let me know of his feelings at dinner!!!!!!! Bull.
Show me a man who can accept a dismissal humbly, and I'll show you a rare, rare gem. Not saying they are not out there, but gosh, you gotta dig deep to find them, and then hope that they don't also play dungeons and dragons online (yes, that has happened too but deserves its own blog).

Changing my vibration? ...Or just the batteries?

So, I know I said I don't believe in Santa anymore but that's not necessarily true. Like the Jolly old Saint Nick of yester year, my Santa is serving a purpose by instilling a sense of hope and a reward for "good" behavior.

Please, do not be alarmed! I have not decided that the debaucherous New Year's Eve behavior was acceptable nor will I be a fool who will just lay my principles down out of the sheer joy of being paid attention. I'm just saying, I've given my Santa a new place in my heart. You see, he's been absolutely dreadful and spotty with communication and organization for us to meet up in the past, but, there has been a pattern. It go like this homey. Hang out and have a blast, thank you correspondence post-hang out, gut-wrenching wait of at least 2 weeks for another form of communication. Now, during those awful waits I go through a hilarious ride of elation, contentment, insecurity, despair, and then a good ol' pull myself up by the bootstraps. Every time. I don't ever hear from the big elf up north until I hit the bootstraps part. It's eerie because it's always that I hear from him within 24 hours of hitting that stage, always.

This tells me something about the energy we put out into the universe. That energy, or, as my good friend Carolyn (queen of the awful setups) puts it, vibration, is what determines our attractions. And like attracts like. So if Santa is an independent kinda guy (duh! he lives in the North Pole!), he gets the inkling to contact me when I'm feelin' groovy about my independence.

So, thank you Santa, for this lovely lesson. I like being in that independent space. And yes, Santa is trying to get me over to his workshop again...but this is one smart reindeer who still needs an apology.

The crush hangover.

Hmmm. I'm still pulling the Ginni from the movie "He's just not that into you." I jump when I hear the text alert from my phone, I keep a candlelight vigil with my email, and yes, my hair looks as though you could find a partially eaten breakfast muffin hiding in the disheveled and slightly dirty curls. Unfortunately, the only texts I get are from friends telling me how great their friggin' day is going (not from Santa sending slightly naughty references about jingle bells), the emails are late notices on my VW bills (not promises of future foot rubs and plans for cuddly outings), and my hair is not the cute "bed head" one associates with a tumultuous love affair, it's more like what my cat looks like when she gets caught in the sprinkler and then rolls in the garden. Not to mention I have a new and particularly nasty carb addiction.

When I drink too much, I load up on emergen-C packets, greasy eggs, and a good long cardio workout to cleanse the liver and rejuvenate the spirit. But what does one do when they've OD'd on romantic notions and wishful thinking? I feel wiped out from cultivating all of these happy thoughts about something that could be and now definitely will not. My intuition says, "get excited about something else," but what??? Getting excited about work opportunities and friend time is great, and I feel like I can and do do that, but it is not the same chemical high that one gets from stimulating the love center of my being (thanks Cory for that idea). Suggestions? Comments? Anybody have any German chocolate cake?

Okay, there is no such thing as Santa Claus

I hate to break it to myself, but he doesn't exist. At least in the POI form. Santa lost his official POI status on New Year's Eve, by completely bumbling into the category of tasteless idiocracy. He invited an ex-reindeer and myself to the same intimate gathering at the workshop, with other elves and reindeer. All was well and good at the north pole until Santa slyly chose the ex-reindeer to launch his sleigh into the new year. And this little reindeer? She made the best of a bad situation with an ex-elf of hers and then bailed. Yuck, yuck, and more yuck.

New Year's often brings us a chance for reflection. As I look forward to another single year in the city of subdued excitement, I'm optimistic. I realized the other night when the north pole was caving in that I have some really amazing people in my life and sometimes I overlook them for the big players, such as Santa. What about all of the wonderful, hardworking, creative elves that really run the toy workshop? I'm no longer going to allow myself to pigeonhole my relationships with men to those that I date, and those I don't date. I need to keep expanding upon my lovely friendships that have been growing with the not-so-fair sex. I think maybe dating is entirely overrated and that perhaps, a love can grow out of familiarity, ease, and respect. Forget the completely forced nature of the date, per se, and embrace the casual enjoyment of friendship while keeping the love door open.

To be clear, I'm not saying that I'm ready to fall in love with my male friends. Actually those relationships are so dear to me that I'm afraid I'd wreck them if the line between friendship and lover were crossed. I'm just now acutely aware of the relationship I will eventually be involved in because of what being with my friends has allowed me to feel. I believe a relationship based on a secure friendship first, allowing for a freedom to love without questioning myself or my partners motives.