Earth to Saturn (By Way of the 1st Star to the Right.)

The problem is that is felt so good being with you & therefore I miss you so terribly. Sometimes I wish we had not had such a good time. You know what I mean?

I know exactly what you mean. It almost would have been easier if we had driven each other crazy... Now I am even more in love with you and you feel even farther away.

 I have this missing feeling... My holiday & time with you feels like years ago.

I agree.

So our relocation back to Planet Earth, or Saturn, or Holland, or Wherever it is, from Planet BIOHF3W has been about as painless as you would imagine. Which is, well, totally not painless. Its pretty fucking painful, honestly. I mean, I was relatively used to the single & dating life before he arrived, before I met him; but after practically three weeks with my Dutchman - a man who I love, who loves me - I got very used to Planet This Man is My Boyfriend - Very used to waking up next to him, very used to walking in and seeing his face after a long day at the shop, used to his touch,used to double dates and used to introducing him as my boyfriend... I told you, I got Used to Us. It was so easy and effortless to love him & be loved by him. (Not to be confused with lazy or simple, mind you - it just came naturally, the two of us as a complete pair.)
He has been gone for a week - and this has been the hardest week in recent memory. Not only is he gone, but he is making up for lost time in terms of his job with 17+ hour workdays - so what was nearly three straight weeks of  being spoiled by just he and I has now taken a drastic turn & become, if I am lucky, five to fifteen minutes of texting a day. This man who I fell in love with is so far away - with no actual return in sight other than as "soon as possible", perhaps December, at the earliest, and very little communication. This last paragraph may read a little bit like he is blowing me off, but know what is included in our 7 minutes texts and what I know of him, I can assure you it is not.
My heart breaks hourly missing him. I am sad & I am lonely, and I miss him with all my heart. I try to push it out of my head, I don't talk about it for the most part, - the thought of it usually makes my eyes well up with tears. I can't help it but it makes me feel... Abandoned. And I haven't been by any means, and I hate even writing that down, let alone saying it out loud, but sometimes - even against our most reasonable thinking and rationalizations - sometimes we just can't help our emotional response to things. You know, he put it best right before he left when he said its not like he can just hop on a plane & be here from Friday to Sunday, like a minibreak or something. I know (and knew) that this would be hard, and his entire trip here he kept repeating to me (every time he saw my mouth tremble or eyes gloss over), he kept on repeating, No tears - I am not wasting tears on missing you while I'm still here with you. & he was right, and it made our time so much more enjoyable that he would literally force us not to focus on what we would feel like, say, a week after his return home (or yesterday or last Wednesday or next Wednesday or a week from next Wednesday) but I am struggling. I am filled with Sadness. Capital S.

What was the galactic address for Planet BIOHF3W again?
 & please don't give me that "straight on 'til morning" BS.
Seriously, I'll be pissed.

This situation has me literally cursing Cupid for picking him - cursing that bastard baby for putting a man in front of me that Saturday night that I could love so much but not have. Curse him for giving me someone I could forsee a happy future with, that I want a happy future with; for giving me such a gift of a boy, but a gift that is akin to those stupid "Name A Star" placards people give as gifts when they don't know what else to give. You know the ones -- they come with a map of the heavens and a unreadable location, & they feel so entirely intangible.

'Look, this star is yours!' 

Which begs the response, 'Uh, yeah right, a-holes... I can barely even see it in the sky from here.'

I know the saying that anything worth having is worth fighting/working/waiting for - but does it really have to be this fucking hard? I've been searching for this Love, for him, for as long as I can remember, so then why do I find it in someone that is so far, so absolutely far, far away. And there is no simple answer - it isn't as easy as me picking up and moving to North of Calabasas, or Planet BIOHF3W, or even like, Idunno, Nashville, anythinginthenameofLove - and he can't do that either. It's not as easy as a cross country move - it's across the world. It is as difficult as: There is no easy answer.
Because, the man I love is across. the. world.
Come in Saturn! Saturn to Planet BIOHF3W. Saturn to Planet Boyfriend:  You are across the world from one another. Yeah we know that, thankyouverymuch.
It is such an odd sensation, to mourn the loss of someone that you are not broken up with or even breaking up with, that is here on Earth but also gone. Someone absent from that spot on your shoulder where they should be putting their arm around you, just missing from that spot in your hand where they should be holding it. He is somewhere out there - somewhere tangible, somewhere with a longitude and latitude - someone somewhere who is dreaming of you, loving you, and missing you too. But in the same breath, the same heartbeat - gone.
I just get so afraid when I think about his other mantra - his mantra of, What is the worst that could happen? And before the answer was simple - it was 'We'll be late' or 'We'll be a little lost.'
I'm terrified that the answer has become, 'What if We can't? What if I can't?'
I just don't know what to do. Because the touch of his hand is may be missing from my own, but that spot in my heart is filled to capacity.

Sidenotes: I struggled writing this post because, as you a know, he does occasionally read this. But I started this S&SR as an unabridged outlet for myself, and myself only, with no intention of sharing it with those I date & I didn't want to cheapen it by censoring  or editing myself based on who I think might be reading it.

Pager Code?

My favorite thing to do as a teenager was to page people with other people's (okay, their ex-girlfriend's) phone numbers. Wow.I was really mature. Sorry Chris & Rachel.
I spent 1997 checking my pager, and harrassing others' via theirs.
I guess what I am saying, is 143 me on facebook?
...like my facebook page(errrrrr).  (<- thatwouldbetheLinkrightthere.)
And all this led to a wonderful meditation on my idea of "Cool" (or kewl) circa 1997:

Calvin Klein -- essentially my introduction to "Cool".
Also, why I then wore combat boots with everything.
Ok, not much has changed.
Except now they're called
Motorcycle Boots.

My mother hates me & my sisters'
obssession with these sisters.
(I would too if I was a mother.)

This would also terrify me.
But in '99, I wished I was the uppercrust SMG likesobad.

Party Girl.
Sidenote: This was the 2nd R-Rated Movie
my parents let me rent and watch after my sisters' bedtime.
The First? Empire Records.
Both changed my life.

Also, something I was guilty of in the decade of Dawson's Creek? Making my sister watch Welcome to the Dollhouse the day before she started middle school. I still don't think she has forgiven me.

Sidenote: Yes, I am sad and miss the Dutchman. Actually, I am more of a mess & miss the Dutchman.
IDon'tWantToTalkAboutIt. But, I'm sure you figured that.

Outerspace.

Sometimes I feel a little bit like an alien.
I supposed that's why Saturn was so appealing.

Waterworld.



I am teaching Kat Moss the backstroke as we speak.

So, I awoke to a flooded Room with a Kitchen attached.
Which seemed like a fantastic excuse to post this picture.
Because I love it. Simpleasthat.

Sidenotes: There. Is. Water. Everywhere.

Used to Us.

That shopping center used to be an open feild.
That sushi restaurant used to be a Hof's Hut.
That side of the bed used to be His.

You know how once you've lived somewhere long enough or have gotten old enough, you find yourself remembering where things used to be?

that didn't used to be there.

This morning, I got back to my apartment - my tiny room with a kitchen attached - after dropping off my Dutchman at the airport, and for the first time in a long time - okay, perhaps ever - the apartment seemed wide open & empty. Before he arrived, I was terrified he & I would be so cramped together in such a small space that we'd go crazy. But now, walking in, finding myself alone for the first time in weeks, I was overcome with the overwhelming sense that something was missing; all I could see were the spaces where there used to be... Where there used to be a be a long-legged Dutchman sitting on my bed, smiling his knowing smile while I was trying on everything in my closet. Where there used to be a man who gaves me chills when he lightly kissed the top of my head, or better yet, my shoulder blade. He used to be next to me, pulling me in closer right before the sad point in a movie, whispering to me not to cry.

He was here - easy, wonderful and loving & now he just used to be here.

And I got used to Him.
And I got used to Us.

Needless to say, there was a fair amount of crying in the shower this morning.

Driving Lessons on the 101 North.

Near my hometown, on the 101 North, there is a spot of highway where it always seems to bottleneck. So growing up, whenever we hit that spot while driving - usually on our way to ballet or the mall, as the high stone walls closed in on us & the lanes themselves, my Mother would say calmly,

Now, when you're driving through here, just remember, there is no room for error.

Now, everytime I drive through that spot on the 101 when I'm back home, I find myself repeating her words - No room for error, no room for error, now remember right here, there is no room for error.

In traffic, I always think to myself;
each driver of each car
was once a thirteen year old,
has had heartbreak,
has has triumph,
has had failure,
& has had love (if they're lucky).
DeepThoughtsWithJackHandy.

The thousands of cars just cruising along, and then lanes start to merge, the bottleneck hits & they get a bit trapped and squeezed and slowed down inside a walled-in 3 lane highway, until they break free one by one and two by two about a mile down the road. All cautious, because at this point in their day, on their drive, in this moment in their life, there is no room for error.
There are so many emotions and feelings going on in my heart; so many things I want to say to my Dutchman while he is here, so many thoughts I have never thought I'd think whizzing through my brain at 60 mph, so many things I want to say to him. But they all seem to get bottlenecked en route from my heart & my brain once they get to my lips, I find myself thinking, No no there's no room for error, and then all that comes out the other side is I love you. Now don't get me wrong, I have nothing bad to say, less my own fears & insecurities, but I still find my thoughts and feelings bottlenecking at my throat, backing up against one another like cars in traffic. I am not necessarily saying that this is bad thing, but sometimes I just wish I could just come out and say my thoughts, traffic & noise free. Actually, this holding back, this bottlenecking of sorts, has been the case in most of my relationships - the self doubt, the fear exposure & vulnerability; they are the stone walls on the 101 North. (Actually, once I was able to articulate to him that I am not used to feeling such vulnerability, he responded, "Vulnerability? What is this word?" My response? I laughed and said, "You'll have to use your translator for that one.") So, occasionally, actually more often than I think they do, the words still come out the other end of the bottleneck, unphased - one by one and two by two, without error. Its funny, you know, I once mentioned that I adored the intuitive nature of the unfortunately moniker'd Superman/Troll - well, my Dutchman has that intuition too. So even with my bottlenecked thoughts, my lack of words sometimes, my mantra of no room for error; he still reads my face, reads my thoughts. I have oft commented on my own transparency; the slightest mouth tremble, deep breath, or slow blink of my eyes - and I get this feeling at my core that he knows exactly what I am thinking.

Talk about Error-Free,
This is Flawless.

Actually, this weekend, prior to our wonderful and relaxing trip to Las Vegas, I finally told him about S+SR; it was beginning to feel like a lie, or that everyone but him was in on a secret, and I didn't want him to feel the fool. I let him read the posts about him; he smiled and smirked through them all, commenting that he now knew better how I felt, & that he was flattered to be written about in such a way. It was exposing, but it was also a way to fight that bottleneck; it was like taking the sideroad instead. Not a cop out, mind you, just a different way of getting to same destination.
When I asked him if anything surprised him in my writing, his response was something to the effect of, "Yes. That you can write like that... Your talent." He may or may not have also compared me to Carrie Bradshaw, which I find slightly comical coming from a twentysomething-year old Dutchman.

Four more days. He is here for four more days. (Deep breath.)
& if I could wish for one thing to bottleneck rightaboutnow, it would be Time.
If only Time would brake from 60mph to a slow crawl, it would be the only traffic I would dare not curse.

Last night, after dinner - sitting yet again on a gorgeous patio, complete with twinkling white lights and a wishing well, when he looked at me with a small smile, and slowly, deliberately closed both eyes and reopened them without losing my gaze, I knew exactly what he meant.

And so I replied, I love you too.

Sidenotes: No, I don't know what I am going to do when he leaves. But what I do know, what this visit has really driven home is how telling that immediate spark, that immediate connection, is. I do love him, I am in Love with him. I can picture a life with him, a future with him. One of my dearest friends commented at her own wedding that she had never seen me so happy & advised me from the dance floor to never let him go. She is a friend I listen to with all my heart and head, so again I am say to myself:
Remember, here, at this point, with this Love, there is no room for error.
(In Layman's Terms: Don't.Fuck.This.Up. But,  I'm not planning to, don't worry.)
Also, my littlest sister may have had a point about falling in love and this little project, but I'll be honest, I'm not the least bit bored.
And! I took a long hot bath at the Bellagio. Finally.
Sidesidenote: They have since, up on the Highway 101, fixed that section of the road; but really, that is neither here nor there.

Planet BIOHF3W

When my Ex and I met Liam Gallagher, from the band Oasis, he looked over to us, while mixing his own screwdriver from behind the bar, and said,

I'm in another galaxy, mates.*

* Yeah, call me a namedropper. Whatever.

Right now, I couldn't say it better myself. Okay, perhaps not another galaxy, but I've apparently left Saturn and have taken up residence with the Dutchman on the Planet Boyfriend-Is-Only-Here-For-3-Weeks.
But to be honest, I just wish I was in an alternate universe. An alternate universe where the Netherlands are located just North of like Calabasas. Hell, I'd take just North of California, or at the very least onthesamefuckingcontinent as my tiny town. Is that really too much to ask? Apparently so. Damn you Pangea! Needless to say, his visit is going well. Very Well. We're just past the halfway mark - he's here for roughly 9 more days. The past week and a half, he and I have been in our very own galaxy; when we are together, I feel as though the atmosphere around us is heavier, somehow charged. When we meet eyes from across the table, or patio, or dear friends' backyard, I feel enveloped by the air between us - I know I sound like a cast off contestant from the Bachelor right now, but it feels like an electrical current runs between us. (Can you imagine if the producers forbid the bimbos contestants to use the words 'connection' or 'spark' - the whole show would just be dead air.) I honestly do not know what to do; what we are going to do. I have no doubt in my mind, and he has said the same, that if this wasn't some transAtlantic long distance love affair, that if he was here or I was there, this would probably be It. But it is a transAtlanticlongfuckingdistanceacrosstheworld relationship and there are so many other factors involved; I am terrified still, but for other reasons now.


Also orbiting Planet BIOHF3W:
Every pretty dress in my closet.

All these panicked thoughts have taken up orbit in my brain: He has his whole life there, and I have mine here. I don't speak the language there, I would feel so isolated. Is it possible for me to maintain a monogamous relationship with someone who lives across an ocean. He speaks of moving here, is that really fair to him? At what point do I go, "I'd do anything for love" while still mantaining some semblance of common sense? Should we do anything for love? What if I'm wrong about everything? What am I going to do once he leaves? When is he coming back? When am I going there? How will I afford it? You get the picture... Round & round they go. When they'll stop, I don't know. It gets even more looming sometimes; goes into "If I don't go for it (or if I sabotage it) will I regret it for the rest of my life...?" territory more often than I would like to admit.
So the visit's going great. Thatsonethingforsure.
Now, I just have to call my friends more. Living on Planet BIOHF3W has made my phone calling skills a little weak. (Something that I maintain would not be the case if he lived just North of Calabasas, but Goldi does not seem to agree. I do not agree with her disagreement.) We have been quite social though; he's met most of my friends other than Honey and her Honey & really has hit it off well with everyone. Went on my first double date in a long time. We have planned a big international picnic (Aussies! Dutchman! California kids!) on the beach tomorrow, then we're off to Vegas for a couple days. No, no not what you're thinking.

The atmosphere on Planet BIOHF3W certainly is a whirlwind one.
There's also a lot of food on BIOHF3W.
Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeez.
(As I've temporarily turned into a "I feel so fat" girl, to my own annoyance & to others' as well, I imagine.)

Sidenotes: I got a random text from B---- last night (late last night) saying that he missed me. Unexpected with Capital U. Goldi's going on a date with a Doctor tonight & Beauty has been spotted with someone new. (I vaguely recall of a chorus of us - the Ducthman included - doing some version of "We Likey! We Likey!" at a bar the other night to her in mass approval.)

My Fairytale + Flowers in My Hair.

I have a small obsession with flower crowns this summer.
I am determined to wear one.
Or, at the very least, stick a couple flowers in my ever-present sidebraid.

My Dutchman is wonderful.
I love him.
I am afraid of what happens when he leaves, with no return trip in sight.

Coincendently, I always told myself that for my 30th birthday, I would go to Europe. There is talk.

I also told ya'll that I knew something was going to happen this summer.
A catalyst of sorts. I just had a feeling.
That post was titled Saturn's Last Summer:
http://stylesaturnreturn.blogspot.com/2011/06/roaring-twenties-their-last-summer.html

Knowing what I know now.... kindafreaky.





I grew up with these faeries.

The Spark & the Sparkle (& Why Do I Always Doubt Both?!? Tsk, Tsk.)

Click click. Tsk tsk tsk. Click click. Tsk. Hmpph. (Exhale) Tsk tsk tsk.

I, apparently, have turned into something of an African Tribesman over the past year. A habit I, apparently, have picked up without noticing. I mean, my daily life this past year, although full to the brim with friends, work, texting, facebook, dates and phone calls, has been a relatively singular one. I've been single for a year. And apparently, making quiet clicking and tsking noises to myself all the while. Spending four days nonstop with someone else - after a year of (mostly)happy solitude - really brings stuff like tribesman-esque huffing and puffing and clicking to light.
He is here! The Spark is still there! Shining brightly! 24/7, he and I for the past four days!
The past four days have brought a few other things to light as well... I apparently have a few hangups (no shit, Sherlock!) and have found myself constantly 1.) telling relatively unflattering stories about myself (Did I ever mention the New Year's Eve I was really mean to a girl? Still like me now? How about the time I called a girl fat and ugly and she heard about it? Still like me now?) and 2.) having mild panics thinking that he is going to realize he doesn't feel the same about me after spending so much time with me, hearing about all the superkind things I have done. I need to stop this. Basically, other than me, he's absolutely wonderful.
My Dutchman is patient. He is sweet and kind, (and stubborn as hell). As I was late, lost and losing it to and from the wedding on Saturday and he was cool as could be; whereas my Ex would have been losing it on me as well, the Dutchman was calmly reminding me that the world would not end if we were four minutes late, & that we would eventually find where we were going. "What's the worst that could happen?" was his calming catchphrase. When I realized that I had left the invitation at home, leaving us without the name or address of the church, he did not make me feel like an imbecile, he said he simply knew I would figure it out. (I know this seems like a given - "Well, of course he doesn't try and make you feel stupid" - but I am for the first time being faced with situations that for years with the Ex were handled in a certain Threat Level: Red-way, and in comparing now vs. then... The difference is ah-mazing.)
Also, I learned that if you are ever attending a wedding where you are sure to not know a soul, bring someone with an accent. Instant conversation starter.

Sparkle & Fade.

You know, I know it has only been four days since he arrived, but I have spent this last year trying to be strong & resilient. Yet with him in these past four days, I am kind of fragile & emotional. It seems as though I am always caught off guard by my own vulnerability in relationships. It certainly has turned on the fluorescent neon sign that reads: I am terrified of Rejection. Capital R. (This is where I cue, "But isn't everyone!?") I felt the same with the Aussie, which is of very little consolation, considering... Maybe that is why I was lulled and comfortable in my 'relationship' with B----; it never asked me to be vulnerable.
I have found strength by leaning on the love of those around me; on the love I get from my own friends as personal proof to him that I am worth loving. Does this make any sense? When a bridesmaid at the wedding was cooing over how wonderful she thinks I am, that I am Good People, I found myself thinking, "See! See how lovable I am?!"  When one of my best friends started explaining a part of my personality to him, I silently thought, "See!? My friends know and love me." I am quietly realizing that I am uber comfortable in my relationships with other women; I am strong & resilient when it comes to friendships with other women, and relating to them; letting them in. But that too did not come easily for me. I wish I could collect that feeling I have with my girlfriends and bottle it up and spike Girlfriend-Me's wine with it.
My friends and I have joked in the past that I "sparkle". And on my very best days, I do feel like I maneuver through this world in some sort of radiant way; I do think of myself as a dynamic personality. I mostly think of myself as strong, kind & resilient. Whether or not this is true, it feels true some of the time. Then, bam! lands the Dutchman, or in walks the Aussie, and I forget it all - I am overcome with self doubt!
It is a weird thing to say; & it perhaps comes from a place of being unaware of exactly how transparent I am, but I am totally unable to gauge how much of my true self I am allowing to shine through to him. I believe he knows me better than I think he does; as we can't truly know how others perceive us - or at least I can't. I believe I have probably given more about myself away then I realize. While I stand there thinking I am holding back, for fear that if I give too much away he will turn on his heel and leave, I think I may be giving everything away. He says he can see it in my face. But I'm not sure.
Another thing... Over the course of the weekend, I did realize I am quieter than I thought. I mean, I knew getting out of my past relationship that I had been silenced a little; and I thought it was my Ex's doing but I am starting to realize that I may be just a little bit stuck in my own head (as my boss put it the other day). I am more careful with my words, perhaps replacing my younger-self's verbal diarrhea with the aforementioned click click tssk tssk hmph. But it is a calm, comfortable quiet. A sit-and-read-next-to-you-quiet. Not a silence screaming for filler.
In the past four days, we have gone out and we have stayed in. We have gone all out, and we have stayed in an expensive hotel. We have laughed, we have kissed, we have bantered. He was (and still is) a little sick Friday night, and I was laying in bed reading, him asleep & Kat Moss purring on my chest, and I looked around, at the two of them and just felt completely content.
We were at a restaurant a bit South on Friday, outside on the patio & he looked to me & said,

You think people look at us, and think to themselves, "Those two are really in Love?"

I don't know what I am so worried about.
Yet I woke this morning, heart aching for fear he wouldn't say it again before I left for work.
He did.

Sidenotes: I got my monthly 'friend' the day after writing this. Which begs the question, Why is my strongest symptom of PMS excruciating insecurity? Also, I have added a tag "Men with Accents" on the left hand side for filtering purposes. Just an FYI.

One Day.

One day until Day One. Ohgod.
My Dutchman is set to arrive tomorrow afternoon. I have so much to do; clean my car, tan, clean my house. I've been ordered to go grocery shopping, complete with a list of what to get. I am pretty overwhelmed, I'm not going to lie. I need a haircut, I have to do laundry - as I have been techincally using the same towel for about a week. I have to shave my legs, among other things. I need a carwash. I need to find something to wear to pick him up in, and to wear to the wedding this upcoming weekend. I need to get my life together.
OhGodohGodohGod.

California Dreamin.

What is with you guys and men from foreign countries?

I don't know, but if they are within a 3 mile radius of us, we will find them.



Internationally Renowned.



It's Monday again, mate.

And it was yet another beach-filled weekend, complete with San Franciscans, Canadians, Australians & Brits. I'm not sure when my tiny little town became a mecca for international travelers, but I certainly am not complaining. Nor is Goldi; she may or may not have met an extremely good looking Englishman herself, who may or may not be a professional rugby player. Yesplease&thankyou. Also, discovered that Canadian is probably the least sexy accent a guy can have. Bikinis, wetsuit-inspired silks, and short shorts were the uniform all weekend, which were paired perfectly with dancing, brunching and plenty of eye-candy.

So... (International) Lipstick Summer is in full effect. Oy vey.



Totally tubular.

Rig.

He just looks Australian, don'tchathink?

I went accent & haven't been back since.

Sidnote: The Dutchman arrives in 2 days. He is as panicked as I am; he told me so. Which makes me feel a bit better.