Category Archives: Real Life

Sad Cheese

There are few things in this world so delightful as a perfectly executed grilled cheese sandwich.

My grilled cheese sandwich, however, was not well executed. With its darkened, yet soft, exterior, and warm, but not even close to melted, interior, this is a sad, sad sandwich.

Apparently, today is not the day to eat at the office cafeteria.


That country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain.

Ray Bradbury

Missing You


We don’t often speak about absence.
About the people in our lives who aren’t physically present.

GP posted the following earlier tonight, and it resonated with me:
If my absence doesn’t affect your life, then my presence has no meaning in it.

It’s a striking thought, no?

People come into our lives all the time – friends, family, colleagues, peers, neighbors, acquaintances, and even strangers – all of these can make an impact, even in only the shortest instance of interaction.

Some of these people sick around once they’ve arrived. They walk beside you and, even when their paths stray from yours, they’ll wander back eventually. Some are merely a blip in the long. winding adventure. Some we leave behind willingly, some simply drift away.

They say that ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ but I think that, perhaps, absence makes one realize where the heart truly lies.

For it is when someone is absent, in that moment when you feel that ache of longing, that wish to see his eyes, to hear her voice, to feel a touch, to share a moment, that you truly know what someone means to you.

And this is the moment in which to reach out. To let that someone know the impact he has on your life. A text. A call. A letter. Something. Anything. This is the moment to show someone that she is important, that he matters, that she makes a difference in your life, that your existence is brightened by his presence.

How will they know, if we don’t tell them?

On Authenticity

Every now and again, someone tells me that I am intimidating. Not physically, mind you; after all, I’m about as physically intimidating as an angry kumquat. But, intimidating nonetheless.

I wonder, sometimes, if this comes from the fact that I tend to be (and try to be) a very straightforward, honest person. I do my best to be kind, but I also don’t pull any punches when I’m speaking with people. Mostly because I just can’t stand the whole read-between-the-lines social facade that most people insist on hiding behind.

Because I am many things, but I am no stereotypical “delicate flower” no matter how many floral dresses I wear. I am nobody’s princess, or baby, or doll, or whatever. I’m not looking for someone to save me, or take care of me, or pay my way.

I’m just me. Looking for someone to connect with.

It’s funny, I’ve gone on a few first dates this week, and I’ve mentioned in conversation that I try to live by a specific idea:

Modesty is wasted on your doctor.

After a few raised eyebrows, I explain. Hiding your body from your doctor, whose job is very specifically to observe and understand your body. Rather ineffective, no?

On a wider scale, it means that as much as I default to being a very private person, well versed in the skills of evading personal questions and carrying on a friendly conversation in which I reveal almost nothing relevant about myself, there are some situations in which that’s exceptionally ineffective. Like, say, dating.

So I don’t put up much pretense on a first date. I’m looking for someone who likes me – the me that I am, not the me that I think they might maybe want me to mold myself into. I happen to think that I’m a pretty swell lady, some of the fellas even seem to agree.

Needless to say, this strategy weeds out a lot of potential suitors.

On the other hand, the one’s who are still interested after meeting my fairly uncensored self, well, they at least know what they’re signing up for.

I had a particularly pleasant first date this past weekend.
Very honest.
Very authentic.
Very… unexpected (those of you following my adventures regularly may recall a Tai Chi class for which I was rather unprepared…)

It’s funny, the way the stars align sometimes. Just this week, my favorite not-a-real-doctor posted an article on authenticity and dating. Way to be on point with my life Nerdlove.