47 posts tagged “dayna”
“Dayna!” Mel snapped into my ear through the phone. “Did you hear me?!”
“Yeah I did,” I sighed.
“Well. Don’t you have an opinion? Wait. You already knew huh?”
I was thinking about exactly how much I knew. I knew the line of his jaw lying on the pillow next to mine. I knew the pattern of his breathing as he slept. I knew the color of his hair as the weak sunlight slipped in through the window. I knew way too much about Jesse.
“How long have you known?” Mel wanted to know.
“Not long,” I lied.
Long enough to be helplessly happy with Jesse. And completely miserable that our actions had made him make a life-altering decision. Well maybe that’s a stretch considering he was considering calling off his engagement before that day I spent with him:
I sat across the table from him and smiled. He was gorgeous in a rugged, construction worker way. You know, like that TV commercial where the ladies are watching the man working outside their office building. He’s sweating away and slowly pulls off his shirt revealing tight 6-pack abs, glistening in perspiration. He leans back and takes a long swallow of Diet Coke.
“DAYNA!” He slaps his hand down on the table. “Hello! Are you even listening to me? Where were you just now?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking about something.”
“Something sinful by the look in your glossed-over eyes. If you’re fantasizing about me, you know it can become a reality”
“That’s funny. You know I don’t date taken men.”
“Who said anything about dating?”
I thought about how tempting it was. I was wondering what it would be like to fuck Jesse. Adult sex, not the fumbling teenager sex we tried many years ago. This was his proposition a few years back, when we first re-connected during his separation and also further back before I married my stupid ex-husband. I still wonder what made me hold back. Probably the memory he held so dear of sweet Dayna. No use in ruining that and getting him acquainted with this Dayna. It was better for him to think of me as a nice girl. Also kept the spark between us alive and who doesn’t like that? But still…he’d be off the market for good soon and I wondered if I would ever regret not doing it when I am old and looking back at my life?
I’d run into Jesse when we were both helping family friends with their flood dilemma. It had been several weeks since he’d given me the silent treatment when I saw him at Christmas. At first I gave him the cold shoulder because of the cold one he’d given me at our last meeting. His woman wasn’t with him so he was acting his normal self. After a couple hours of basement cleaning I’d had enough and wanted to get dry, warm and some food in me. Just as I was backing out of the driveway, Jesse knocked on the window almost scaring the life out of me. I reluctantly unlocked the door and let him hop in. He was all apologies and excuses for the way he acted the last time we’d met while I said nothing. Then he brought up what I only could guess to be true. That he wasn’t exactly sure he was doing the right thing. I blandly told him to call it off if he was unsure. We picked up the pizza, brought it back to the house and pretty much didn’t say a word to each other again the rest of the day.
I don’t know how I got to this point – sitting across from him in a bar.
Jesse was rambling on about his fiancé. How she’d made the decision to postpone the wedding. How right now she was in California sorting out her feelings. It didn’t look good for them. Was I happy about that? No, not really. Exhausted for being his friend to lean on? Yes.
His justification speech was boring me half to tears. I really couldn’t care less if they broke up or not. I never considered them a real item to begin with. I kept envisioning his lips on mine, moving down my neck to that hollow spot I love so much; his hands in my hair, pulling my head back with gentle force; his other hand on my ass, pushing my pelvis into his. His tongue is caressing my cleavage as his fingers fumble with the buttons on my blouse. I can taste the salt from my own body as he comes back up to kiss me deeply.
He had stopped talking. I snapped out of the daydream and smiled at him.
“Come on, Dayna. Let’s go down to my boat and go for a cruise.”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me said no, but the other part of me said YES! And so within ten minutes of leaving the bar, we were on his boat. In his house actually since he lived on the “Darling Dana”.
“You might want to change the boat’s name, Jess. Your wife won’t like that she has the same name as me.”
“She wasn’t named after you, you know.”
I was nervous. What did he want? What did I want? My libido was driving me to do things I might regret. But then again wasn’t I being presumptuous about this invitation? Jesse had always let me lead the way. No pressure; always what I wanted. Maybe he was hoping for what I was wanting right this minute. I didn’t know what to say. Weren’t we going out on the water? If so, why were we down in the galley? Shouldn’t he be starting the boat up and getting her untied?
And then it happened. His lips were on mine, and then down my neck to that hollow spot, lingering there for what seemed like an eternity. My hands were rigid at my side. My nipples were already impossibly hard.
His hands were in my hair, his mouth searching out mine. My mind was swimming. It felt so good; so right; so wrong.
Just as suddenly, he stopped. He was very still, hands still on either side of my head. I opened my eyes and saw his eyes looking right into mine, searching. He looked so serious. So tortured. So vulnerable. So desirable.
I raised my hands up and placed them on each side of his face, leaned in and kissed him with all I had.
Hello Vox Neighbors,
Yes, it is I, returning to VoxLand to leave you a brief but much deserved message
I've been busy
I've been lazy
I've been naughty and didn't want to tell anyone about it
So...my wheels are turning and I'm thinking of how this is going to go
Give me just a little more time
It'll be worth the wait
I promise
x
Champagne cocktail $9
Strappy sandals $94
Party dress…$200
Look on my face after RICK asked me to dance…
Priceless
I’m sure my face was contorted as I tried to mask my feelings of shock, horror and happiness.
I wanted to run, scream, slap him, kiss him.
All I could muster was a weak “sure” and headed to the dance floor.
He'd come out of nowhere. The element of surprise was his advantage. What was he doing here? How long had he been here? I was confused and pleased; annoyed and angry.
The song was an awkward tempo: not fast, not slow. A medium-paced song that leaves the dance floor half empty. I looked at him and his cocky half smile. I took in his straight white teeth and fresh-shaved face. His expensive-looking shirt and the scent of his distinct cologne. My stomach did a flip when he took my hand and brought it to his lips to kiss it. I pulled it back quickly and thanked God the song was over and I could retreat back to my table.
The girls at the table looked curious as I sat down, ignoring the good-looking man following behind me. I needed a second to get my composure. He’d been gone from my life a long time and I thought my feelings for him - the good, the bad and the ugly - were subsiding. I was wrong. The chaos inside my head was overwhelming.
I never even thought about what I’d do in a situation like this because I never thought in a million years this would happen. Utterly unprepared was I. I’d put my defenses up; play it cool and uncaring. But my heart won out as I realized I was just so damned happy to see him. Playing games takes too much energy.
“Do you want to sit down?” Sandi asked Rick as she gestured to the chair next to mine that she’d vacated. Rick looked at me questioningly as he sat. I made the introductions then started firing off all the questions I had for him. The club was loud, making our conversation difficult so I gave up. Pretty much all I got was that his aunt had passed away; he was in Washington taking care of arrangements, was here with his cousin and was so glad to see me. There was no way I was going to let bitterness ruin this reunion. It could be a fun night, he’d leave in a few days and we’d get the good closure we didn’t get the last time we met.
Rick’s cousin joined us and we all danced and laughed and the hours ticked by like minutes. I was having a really good time and was surprised when the countdown to midnight started. Everyone in the club was chanting the numbers along with the newscasters at the Space Needle event on the big screen TV. A collective “HAPPY NEW YEAR!!” was yelled, glasses were raised, horns were blown and I got kissed. A big, friendly, meant-to-be-platonic New Year’s kiss, but my heart flipped just the same. I hugged Rick, said Happy New Year, and then excused myself to the ladies’ room.
He was waiting for me when I came out. Waiting in the little alcove tucked to the side of the restroom entrances. His smile was genuine as I walked toward him. He took a step to close the distance and with one hand behind my head and the other on my waist, kissed me in a not meant-to-be-platonic way.
The warm glow I had was keeping me from resisting. I had thought about this all evening, though I knew I shouldn’t and now his lips were on mine, moving down my neck. His hand moved to my ass, pushing my pelvis into his. I could taste the salt from my own body as he came back up to kiss me deeply. It was much too much for a public place, even if we were out of the way of the main traffic.
“God, Dayna,” he sighed. “I’ve missed you so much.”
I was speechless. The champagne, or probably the kiss, had cluttered my mind. I smiled weakly and took his hands off my waist, still holding them in mine. It would be the easiest thing in the world to tell him the same and take him home. It would be so wonderful, I knew, but it was wrong for me. All wrong. I wasn’t capable of a hook-up with him. After all this time I knew I still had feelings and a one-nighter would hurt me more than help me. The memories of how good it was with him were tempting me. I felt like a woman in a cartoon with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other – both telling her how to act. The devil wanted self gratification and a good-bye fuck while the angel warned of all the trouble he’d caused me.
I sighed.
“I’ve tried hard to not think of you so I wouldn’t miss you. And that’s why I have to leave now. Happy New Year, Rick. Take care.” I dropped his hands and started to walk away. He was right at my side within seconds.
“Let me drive you home.”
“It’s a bad idea. Please, let’s talk tomorrow.”
“Okay,” he said reluctantly.
He walked with me to the exit and opened the cab door for me. He leaned in and kissed me again, a goodnight kiss absent of the longing I felt in the last one.
“Tomorrow…” he said as he closed the door. I looked away but I was not quick enough. His crooked grin was etched on my mind as I sat in silence on the ride home.
I was proud of myself for not giving in – as hard as it was. It felt good to make the right choice.
This New Year’s Eve will be a bit different from the ones I’ve known. At dinner over at my parents’ tonight, my dad dropped the bomb that they aren’t having their annual party.
My brother is having the party at my parents' former home. There’ll be a lot of people there that he and his wife have invited - ones that I don't necessarily know. My mom and dad wanted to pass the baton to them because their new house is smaller and a lot of their friends wanted to stay home this year. They can’t house us all like before (we all stayed in our old bedrooms) So that tradition definitely had to come to an end. I feel weird about it. So many years I've spent New Year's with my family and close friends at my parents' party. A lot has changed this year and maybe a new way to start the New Year is in order too. A compromise has been made: everyone will do what they want on the Eve and we’ll come together as a family on New Year’s Day for brunch at the folks’.
For a quick minute I thought I’d stay the night with mom and dad anyway. Watch Dick Clark’s special, drink whiskey and sprite, and fall asleep on the couch after the Space Needle fireworks celebration on TV got over. My dad put a stop to that.
“Dayna, you are much too young to be staying in with your folks. Don’t you have a party of your own to go to? Your friends must have something going on. You need to be out with other people your age.”
“I like being with you all, Dad,” I protested. I was having a hard time visualizing ringing in the New Year with a bunch of people I barely knew at some random party. To me, it’s about reflecting on the old year, saying goodbye to the good and the bad it held and looking optimistically ahead surrounded by those who love me and whom I love. Even if that means spending the evening doing something a little on the dull side. This was just his way of getting me out there in the potential dating pool.
“I’m happy the way things are, Dad.” It was a loaded statement. Happy that I’m dateless on New Year’s, happy I’m mate-less, happy to stay in on the biggest party night of the year. He knew it wasn’t entirely true. I looked at his tired face and felt his love for me. I know what the one thing left for him to do in this life is: see his only daughter completely content. It’s a tall order but I should at least let him believe that I’m trying.
“Okay! I’ll find some friends and hit the town. Happy?”
“You can tell me all about it over bloody marys on New Year’s Day. That tradition will never change.”
So I am in on the Girls Night Out with Sandi and some others. I’ll dress up and go to the casino’s dance club; I’ll have a good time and ring in the New Year a completely foreign-to-me way. Sandi is excited. She has a table reserved by the dance floor and reservations for our group at the nice restaurant in the casino. My choices were limited and this seemed like the more fun of my option. It was either hang with the single ladies or else go to Mel’s party where everyone is paired up and I’d be a fifth wheel all night. As much as I love Mel, I couldn’t bear what possibly could turn into the most depressing night of the year.
Anyone who longs for holiday tradition should take a peek inside my December. This is one of my family traditions I really look forward to:
The second Saturday of every December we get together early in the morning for the Christmas tree farm excursion. Rain or shine. Thank goodness we do not trek out into the mountains in search of the perfect tree as we used to when I was growing up. Now it’s my brothers and their families, solo me and my mom and dad. We head out in a convoy of 3 SUVs loaded with kids and even a couple of dogs.
After much discussion and deliberation, we drink hot cocoa while the trees are loaded atop the vehicles. Then its a few hours of unloading and set up. Oldest brother’s first, then middle brother’s, mine and then our parents’. The decorating is left to each individual household except for our parents’. At their house we eat a hearty lunch and dive into the boxes of ornaments. Mom is a fancy-pants type lady. You’d think that her Christmas tree was of the designer –type; a department store gem, but alas, she is a true sentimental, loading her tree with nostalgia from Christmases past. Decorating the family tree is like taking a trip down Memory Lane. The boxes hold all types of ornaments. Grade-school treasures, family and individual vacation mementos, personal achievements, first year married, baby’s first Christmas, kids’ and grandkids’ sports and activities, milestones of any and every kind. Plus there’s an ornament from every year my parents have been married. They pick one out together each year the weekend after Thanksgiving.
“Lookie here, Dayna,” mom said with teasing in her voice. It’s hard to tell what she came across. I cringed when I saw the ornament she was holding up. A photo frame made of fabric – the one I made in Home Ed in 10th grade. The photo inside was of me and Jesse at that fall’s homecoming dance. I’d been so proud of the frame that earned me an “A” but more proud of the boyfriend I had that year.
Ugh!
My brother immediately changed the mood by ruffling my hair and yelling “Nice dress! And look at that awful Tux!”
The whole room erupted in laughter as the ornament was passed around. I cringed as I thought of Jesse getting married next year. He’d hesitated when my mom had invited him to our tree decorating party today. Said he already had plans. He hasn’t missed it in the past couple of years since he came back into my (our) lives. I guess it’s different for him now with his fiancé and other things to occupy his time than hanging out with my family.
After hot drinks and appetizers we went to the parade. So much fun to watch the faces of my nephews and nieces when the Santa Claus float finally comes down the street! Then there’s the Christmas tree lighting and bon fire in the park followed by live Christmas music to sing and dance to.
I expected to see Jesse. I looked forward to it actually because I haven’t met his fiancé yet. I hadn’t expected him to be so standoffish or his girl to be so snotty. I was completely taken aback by them. My brother spotted them first and went over to say hello. I followed with a smile on my face that quickly evaporated when he said a generic greeting and tight introduction to his fiancé. She nodded and said a quiet “hi” all the while looking me up and down.
“That was weird.” I whispered as they walked away. The entire conversation lasted about 2 minutes and consisted of talk about the weather, and a no to the invitation to come by for a drink afterwards.
“Yeah, weird. I don’t like his girlfriend.” My brother said.
“So it’s not just me, then?” I worried that I’d been too sensitive or that I’d exaggerated it somehow.
“No. And she does not seem like his type. Weird.” He shrugged it off and we joined our family. It really bothered me though. I thought he’d found a great gal. Although no one had met her, we all assumed she’d be a good match for him. Maybe so for the new, unanimated Jesse.
Huh.
What is the deal with in-laws? A loaded question perhaps but here I was on a girl’s getaway trip with my mom and two sisters-in-law and I had to bite my tongue several times.
For those who do not know much of my history, here it is in a nutshell. My family is extremely close. We have traditional holidays and gatherings more than once a month. We all live within 3-5 miles of each other. My oldest brother even bought my parents’ house when the time came for them to downsize ~ so the ‘family home’ wouldn’t go to strangers.
I have 2 older brothers. I am the baby and the only girl. So, yes, a bit of a princess if you want to call me that. I don’t like the term but what can I say - if the glass slipper fits….
My brothers are successful. Their wives are nice women, not snobs. I get along with them because we like each other, because we’ve known each other for a long time. Because we are family, not because we have to.
I am doing well in my career too. Am independent, own my house and enjoy some of the finer things in life. I was married once but that ended about 7 years ago – before I started my business. So in other words, I’ve done it all on my own. I don’t have kids. I’d like one someday but I have yet to find the man whose child I want to bear. Big deal. There are thousands of girls just like me.
Okay so here it is:
We’re on the train coming home from the trip. It was a long weekend of marathon shopping, wine drinking and dining. I was exhausted and a bit depressed thinking about this same trip I took with someone I was very attached to this time last year. Mom had gotten up to use the restroom. I was lying back with my eyes closed. They were chatting away and apparently thought I was asleep.
“Poor Dayna,” Catie whispered. “Another year gone and she’s still alone.”
“It must be hard for her that Jesse’s getting married,” Toni chimed in.
“What happened to her boyfriend from this summer?”
“She wanted to get serious and he didn’t.”
“I think the same thing happened with Rick last year.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. That they were talking about me was a shock enough but drawing the wrong conclusions?!? For a second I thought about pretending to be asleep and hearing them out but I figured I should set them straight.
“I can hear you…” I said, sitting up. The looks on their faces was priceless. They started to back pedal saying how sorry they were that I heard it, etc.
“Are you sorry I heard it or sorry that you said it? What you think about me is so far from the real thing it’s pathetic!” I couldn’t help but yell. A few heads turned my way and just then I saw Mom coming down the aisle to take her seat. Great.
“You don’t know the first thing about me! Mind your own business and stay out of mine!”
“What the hell is going on?” Mom wanted to know.
“Ask them!” I spat as I pushed past Mom to the restroom.
So there it is: everyone has an opinion of me and my pathetic-looking life. Once upon a time I’d have laughed at them and said they were just jealous but their speculating hit me hard. Of course I want a love of my own. Of course I want what they have, what my parents have, what my friends have. But I will not settle for some guy just to satisfy the natural progression of a life. I will not attempt to put a square peg in a round hole. Why do I care what they think? Because they are my family. Because we are close as sisters. The girls who I thought admired me for my independence actually pity me. That’s a bitter pill to swallow.
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Sandi and I arrived at the bar what seemed a bit early to me. The “dates” started at 7:30 and here it was only 6. I thought it a bad idea to get liquored up before meeting my potential (victims) I mean boyfriends so I ordered a club soda with lemon and lime pieces dancing jovially in the bubbles. I got the stink eye from Sandi and told her I’d drink something later, to take the edge off, but it was too early for me to hit the juice. She doesn’t know about my problem and drinking a martini will only add fuel to my fire. I asked her why we were here so early and she said she wanted to check out the competition. Why not check out the prospects? I wondered aloud. Because the guys don’t arrive till right before the gig. Figures. I, being of the male-minded sort, would’ve preferred to arrive at 7:25 - which in my book is right on time.
We were each handed a card with numbered lines. The perky female hostess explained that the women would remain seated at their tables while the men would rotate around the circuit in five-minute intervals. Good. Better that I get to see them walking. We were instructed to write each date's name on the card provided, and after each mini-date if we would like to have a “real” date, we should indicate this on the card next to the man's name. Men would do the same, and only double-matched contestants would be given each other's information. Maybe Mr. Right could be found at speed dating: this is what Sandi wholeheartedly thought, wished and prayed for. You can't pretend that you're not looking for love when you subject yourself to this circus. Well I could think exactly that – that I wasn’t looking for love. I was here for Sandi’s moral support. Or was I?
So Bachelor Number One walked up to my table… To sit across or beside? That was the question. The older, clumsy man fumbled with the chair opposite me, and then opted to sit next to me. Strange how human nature works when a man you are not attracted to somehow seems creepy, whereas a fine specimen doing the exact same thing could send feel-good shivers up your spine. I attempted to smile sweetly and resisted the temptation to scoot my chair away from his. It would only last 5 minutes after all. The interview questions were fired off at great, speed: "Have you ever done this before? What do you do? Do you like pets?" Trying not to look at my watch, I rattled off my answers with a smile. | |
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Enter Playboy of the Year: it was so obvious he came here to feed his ego by making girls want him. Oh, and to get laid. By all ten girls he meets tonight. Count me out, buddy. I know your type. He actually said “Hey baby” when he sat down. I downed the rest of my drink, smiled sweetly and asked what he did for work. “Um, I’m between jobs right now. What do you do?” “I’m a butcher” I replied. “Cool. Bet you could get me a deal on some steaks?” What?!!?
Next came Body Building Guy: He proceeded to talk about his fitness routine and weight lifting regimen. Besides being bored out of my mind with the same crap I hear day in and day out from guys at the gym, he was completely wrong about everything he was doing. It would’ve been so fun to tell him what would work better, but there was no room for me to bust into the one-sided conversation. I glanced across the room at Sandi and she gave me the “thumbs up”. I guess she thinks I like meat-heads…
Enter Embarrassingly Shy Accountant: Nothing to say; five minutes of excruciating awkwardness. I asked all the questions and he mumbled answers while turning a deeper shade of red after each one. Going great so far...
Next up: Professional Student: "I really don't do much but go to school." I decided to have a little fun. This guy was probably 32 and was still in college. It piqued my curiosity since I’ve never met someone like this although I’ve heard they exist. "Come on," I prodded, "you've got to do something besides go to school. Do you work? “No” “How does that work out for you? Where do you get spending money?” (I knew the answer before it was spoken) “Well, I live with my folks. I do odd jobs around the house and for neighbors too.” “Oh, I see. So what happens when you meet a girl? I mean do you just ask to go back to her place or do you take her home?” “Why? Do you wanna hook up or something?” (yeah right)
Finally, the much-needed break; most of the ladies hid in the restroom, to avoid further contact with the dates from hell. I walked straight up to the bartender, ordered another double and asked if it was always like this? “If you want to meet different guys than what shows up for this thing, come down here on Friday for Happy Hour. There's a lot of business men that come in to unwind after the work week. Be here by 3 though. They move on by 5:30.” “Thanks for the tip”, I said and handed him his. He smiled and winked at me as I got up to resume my spot in the Dating Game. Was he trying to help me or himself by suggesting I come here on Fridays?
So the rest of the night was pretty much the same as the first half – none of the men made my heart skip a beat. The last guy to come to my table was by far the best catch of the night. He is my age, works at an advertising firm, cute in a goofy way, never been married, no kids, nice smile, made me laugh. That was enough to put his name down as a possible future date. Being the most normal-seeming one of the bunch, I’d bet $100 that he’d be busy with dates in over the next few weeks – probably every girl there wrote him in as a candidate. As luck – or whatever – would have it, he put my name down too. So we were a datable match. I threw the paper in the trash as I left. If he calls me, fine, but I don’t make it a habit to call men to ask them out.
When I got home there was a message on my answering machine from Jesse. He wanted to meet for a drink one night soon. He had some news he wanted to share. I already knew what it was but I called him back and told him whenever he wanted to go out, I’d make the time for him. He seemed really happy to get together. I smiled as I got ready for bed. Being friends with him used to be great. Maybe after he married the sexual tension between us would ease up.
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It's weird and totally out of character for me, I know. But my friend Sandi has talked me into joining her at a speed dating event tonight. She went to the last one, said it was a blast and got a couple good first dates out of it. Not sure why there weren't second dates, but that's her business.
I guess it's a good idea to try to meet some new men and I admit it makes me wonder who goes to these things? Desperate people? Am I desperate? I think not. My problems are not in the meeting department. It's after I meet them that the problems arise.
I'll go with an open mind. It might be fun. It's at a nice bar in Seattle so at the very least I'll have a few Martinis and some gourmet appetizers.
Wish me luck....
Okay so for Halloween I had my hair up, my nails were painted white, I carried a machetti, my long jacket covered my skirt and on it was a name tag that said:
Hello, my name is
Kiddy (crossed out) and under it:
KAREN
What was I for Halloween?
10/30/08
I am working on me. Here’s how that went today:
6 am: up and in the shower. I try to think positive thoughts. I am a strong person, a good friend, a nice girl.
Well, scratch that last thing, but I’m trying!
7 am: in the car with my soy latte’. Listening to self help shit on CD. It all sounds like a load. I like my cyber-shrink better (you know who you are!!)
7:30 am: at my desk at the health club, checking email. An invitation from a former FWB. My mind wanders to sexy thoughts. NO! I tell myself “you are supposed to be focusing on yourself and your well-being.” Celibacy sucks! But I’m determined to stick with it. Supposedly this will help me “find the real me”
I check my messages on Vox. Hmmm…that was interesting…
8 am -11 am: working on helping others with their nutritional needs. (my job at the club)
11:30 am: I am done with my part time job and am changing into my workout clothes. Hit the treadmill. The guy across from me is smiling. He’s new here. I’ve seen him once before. Nice smile. Cute face. Great ass. I change the incline on the machine and now we’re taking a hike up a hill and he stops to rest. I come up behind him and place my palms on his rock hard gluts. He sighs and turns around to face me. Brushes his finger along my cheek, leans in for kiss and then
“Hey how long are you gonna be on there?” Someone asks me.
“I’m done,” I say and head for the exit. Mr. Great Ass is gone. Thank God. Dr. Headhealer would like to hear about this scenario but isn’t going to.
1 pm: back at my home office. Going over my clients’ files while scarfing a chicken salad sandwich. And they come to ME for advice? I need to get a grip on more than my sexual fantasies.
1:30 pm: client appointment
2:30 pm: client appointment
3:30 pm: client appointment
4:30 pm: client appointment
5:30 pm: check phone messages. Mel wants to go out to dinner. Mom wants me to come to dinner. Gage wants to meet for drinks. (fuck, I can’t do it but want to so badly!) Jesse called to say hi, do I want to hang out and watch a movie? (why am I afraid of his friendship?) Sandy wants to go to happy hour and then ladies’ night at the casino. (no, can’t be around men right now.) Girl Scouts of America called to confirm my speaking engagement (career women of the Northwest – good thing it’s not anything on a personal level)
I decided that I should see Jesse. It’s been months since he’s been around and I really need a male friend right now. It’s part of my therapy. To be friends with an attractive man in which no sexual contact will be made. He’s really sexy though. Especially when it’s been a while for me. But I have my reasons, right? I reach for the phone and then wonder how it’s helpful to torture myself? It would be so nice to be held. And kissed. And touched. Shit! I slam the phone down and take a cold shower.
7 pm: I am eating dinner at Mom and Dad’s – for the 3rd time this week. It’s a safe zone. Tomorrow is going to be rough. Costume party at Mel’s. I have to go. I can’t break tradition. She’s expecting me and she’s invited several single men for me to meet. Great. I can’t even tell my best friend that I’m on the wagon. I think Jesse will be there. That’ll be good. A friend to hang out with. I need to practice being friends with a guy. Nothing more than friends. I did that before with Rick. Friends for a long time. Took it really slow. So slow and so fine that I fell in love. Only I couldn’t handle it and had to sabotage it.
My mind wanders. I hear my dad talking vaguely about someone I know. He’s droning on about how great it is. Somethin about how I’ll really like her.
“Dayna, did you hear me?” He asks.
“Sorry, Daddy. I have a headache tonight. What did you say?”
My mom busts in and answers for him:
“He said Jesse’s getting married! Isn’t that wonderful, honey?”
