Last week, I published my list of 25 random things about me. And did all the appropriate tagging in Facebook. I couldn’t tag my friend in Yellowknife though, she’s not in Facebook. I tagged her through my blog and yesterday, she sent me her list. When this post feeds into Facebook, I’m going to tag all of our Grad ’89 class, see what they have to say. HA!

25 Random Things About Me (The Friend)

1. I am short.

2. I am incessantly organized. For example: the cans in my cupboard line up in sections….OCD?

3. I like electronic gadgets but hate learning how to use them, therefore, I don’t buy them.

4. I am most relaxed when I am surrounded by nature.

5. I can never remember the names of songs or bands or singers.

6. I crashed my Dad’s ATV when I was a teenager. Man – is that a story!

7. I have funky green curtains that I made in my camp room, just so it doesn’t look or feel like a correctional facility.

8. I learnt to snowboard at 37.

9. I have lost count of the number of bear encounters I have had.

10. I drive a standard transmission vehicle.

11. My friend and I used to sing 50s and 60s music at the top of our lugs while working.

12. When I knew Redd – she had a different name and taught me to shoot a bow & arrow.

13. I’ve walked on the Arctic Ocean.

14. I’ve hiked the Chilkoot Trail; twice – both times with Jennifer.

15. I am clumsy. Not a revelation to most – just a fact of life.

16. I think everyone should read Mitch Albom’s - the five people you meet in heaven

17. This is my year of new adventures.

18. I wonder…why is it that someone will spend $100 on an outfit but won’t spend $15 for a pack of 5 “every day” undies until the ones they are wearing fall off?!

19. I love French fries.

20. I once made a turkey casserole that was so bad we went for Chinese food after four bites. I put the word “gross” thru the recipe.

21. I wish you a story with a happy ending and the wisdom to find it.

22. I am a sentimental fool who cries at sad movies and love stories.

23. I just heard the funniest story… Just for kicks as young men when one of their buddies passed out one evening the group decided it would be great fun to duct tape deer antler to the buddy’s head… and then they woke him up! Imagine the hilarity of watching someone try to sit up when his antlers are stuck in the couch…

24. I want to have a short, hot, passionate love affair.

25. It has taken me far longer to write this list than I thought it would or should!

After many conversations and shared moments, and a few evenings of phone calls where I have tried to gather up courage to ask, I finally just say: “Hey. I have a question.” My heart rate sky rockets, but I try to be casual. And I ask: “Umm…., well, what do you want?”

And in a smaller voice, I look down. I look away. I look anywhere else but at the person I’m talking to: “More specifically, I guess my question is: What do you want with me?”

Later, I thought, “WHAT WAS I THINKING?” And I reprehend myself because I’m accommodating again. I always try and find out what’s going on and figure out how I fit in.  Accommodate. Accommodate. Accommodate.

I’m kinda tired of trying to fit in. I don’t. OBVIOUSLY. And in order to take control of my life, I think a way better question would be: “What do I want?” and “What do I want with me?”

After some consideration (and a prompt from somebody else entirely) I thought I might just put it out there on my blog. What have I got to lose?

Basically though (deep breath)….here is what I came up with tonight:

I want to share my life. I want to share my body. I want to create memories, and a home–with friends, and family, and community.

I want to laugh.

I want to grow, to challenge, to discover. Intellectually. Emotionally. Physically.  I want a counterpart. A partner. I want someone who challenges me and makes me think. And helps me grow. I want to encourage. To be encouraged.

I want to become a better person.

I want to make healthy decisions: physically, emotionally, financially.

I want to travel. I want to experience new places. I want to discover new music, and culture, and textures, and flavours.

I want to take care of my parents.

I want romance. I want kissing for hours.

I want intimacy.

I want to love and to be loved.

I want babies and dogs and careers and gardens.

I want to cook dinners together.

I want to feel beautiful. And smart. And sexy (my four favourite adjectives: sassy, classy, smart, and sexy). I want to be a best friend, a girlfriend, a wife, a lover, a mother.

I want a life.

I want him (whoever he may be) to choose me (over anybody else, over a job, over his parents). I want us to create our own circle of trust and build a life together.

I don’t want to be a second choice.

I don’t want to be a side dish.

I don’t want to be filler.

I won’t settle for anything less.

I’m 37 in February. I’m too old to wait for things to happen. If I don’t take control of my life, I don’t think I’ll ever have what I want.

I’ve been talking to my friend in Yellowknife. In fact, I’m going to call her now. Except, I have to write a blog entry before I can. It’s been too long since I made my last one–and I’m due.

We had a great chat the last time we talked. I think we talked for three hours. Now. How’s that for friendship?

In fact, that was the topic of the conversation (or that’s how we started off). We talked about friends and our friendships and what they mean to us. She laughed and said that saying was true…that one that says something about you know who your true friends are when they show up to help you move. She was relieved at how many of her friends showed up to help her move her stuff into her new place and she’s grateful for that. She was just grateful.

When I moved from Bush-Field last year, my friend Quebec-Martin showed up with his pickup and helped me move back to Healdsburg. AND I have to say that was quite a relief. He also helped me quite a bit once I was here. In fact, I believe I have a whole entire photo essay on building the composter. I didn’t have any furniture or kitchen supplies, but I knew the first thing I needed was a composter–and he and Humberto helped me make it.

Another thing we talked about last time was texture. One of her friends had given her a compliment (the day of her move) and said something about texture. That she was a person who had texture. My friend couldn’t have felt better. What a compliment!! I think so too. I like that.

I told what I’d told another friend of mine once when he asked me what I thought of Cobie Chaillet.

“I was thinking more about Colbie Chaillet on the way to Petaluma this morning as I was listening to Dianah Washington. I realized what I had described was mainstream was more like–lack of texture. That’s how I would describe it. Lack of texture.

I like music with depth, complexity, range, and texture…in fact. In fact, it turns out, that’s how I like my wine. And..now as I’m typing this, I realize I like people like that too. I like people who have depth, complexity, range, and texture.”

And that’s how I think my friend is–and I can only aspire to have those qualities too. I guess life is just a work-in-progress.

ON THAT NOTE….it’s time to publicly announce that we (my friend and I) have a goal. We are challenging ourselves to compete in the Yukon River Quest next summer. Isn’t that exciting? AND we have a whole year to prepare. When she told her dad, he said he thought he’d go too and he’d ask our former Outdoor Ed teacher Cliff Dunaski to go along with him.

I wonder what it’ll be like twenty years later? OMG!!!!!!!!Twenty years later!!!! We were part of the graduating class of ’89.

I’m having a conversation with my girlfriend in Yellowknife. I call her most Sundays so we can catch up and chat. We are just like we were in high school. We talk about our lives and what we’re doing and we talk about boys. Except, we’re a little older now. A little more experienced. We’ve had our share of dramas. We know more how to dress, how to act, how to use our feminine wiles.

NOT!!

And, I’d like to know what feminine wiles are exactly. I’m not aware that I have any. I’m not aware of how they work. When I had a husband, he’d get annoyed (as he should have) when I’d smile and talk to other guys. And that was hard, because I worked in technology. There were a lot of guys. He’d say: Just because you smile and talk to them–they get an idea. That’s all you need to do. Smile and talk.

So I guess after certain situations, I did learn that smiling and talking wasn’t a good idea. I stopped smiling. I stopped talking. And now I fear I’ve lost that basic social skill. Men aren’t interested in me lately. Maybe I don’t meet enough men, but really. Men don’t seem to even notice I exist.

My friend says it’s because I’m not putting myself out there. Well. I’ve had it with that. I’ve put myself out there. I’ve just been disappointed over and over again. I don’t think my heart can take it. I don’t ever want to feel that sushi raw feeling again. EVER. It’s taken me all this time to get this thin skin back…I wonder how long it’s going to take to thicken?

Anyway. Last week, we talked about what happens to our tongues when we try to talk to somebody we like. It’s like our brains just go into some sort of overdrive, and circuit to the tongue shorts out.

I dug this explanation up from an old email. I thought it was a pretty good explanation of what happens when I’m trying to talk to somebody I think I might like.

…as soon as I see you, this is what happens:

My heart does this little flip-flop (at least I know it doesn’t stop.)
Blood rushes to ummm….
Then, because that happens, blood rushes to my face.
My face is now flushed and I’m all flustered because I know what is going on.

Then, I can’t concentrate on what I’m trying to say to the person I’m having a conversation with. My tongue feels like I’ve been to the dentist and it’s numb or frozen or whatever. It can’t finish what it is saying and I stutter and fumble and in general just appear silly.

And I try to carry on the conversation, but my mind is just all over you and where you are and what you are doing. And, in order to maintain any dignity or composure at all, I have to leave the room so I can focus on what I was trying to say to the other person and hope that they didn’t notice any odd behaviour….

Here’s something else I wrote on not being able to speak when I know I might like somebody:

And you go out to eat. And he talks. And you push food around on your plate and try to focus on what he’s saying. But all you notice the sound of his voice and the way that he talks.

And when you finally do try to take a bite to eat–you miss your mouth and the food falls back on the edge of the plate and almost on your lap–because you are already so nervous. So you just laugh and push the food around on you plate a bit more and try to think of something clever to say.

So you just smile. And nod. And try to ask intelligent questions. And inside, you’re completely mortified. Because you know you’re intelligent. And smart. And funny. And you have opinions. And normally–normally–you can’t shut up (which is why your nickname is Princess Donkey).

Here’s the question. How do you make any sort of smart, intelligent, witty, impression when your brain-tongue circuit is shorted out?

My friend would like to ask a fellow to go on a walk with her–so she could get to know him better. First of all, she’s just nervous and she doesn’t know how to approach him. Secondly, when an opportunity arises for her to ask, her brain-tongue circuit shorts out. Anyway, she’s nervous she’d end up asking him too many questions and it would appear like an inquisition. (I tell her that’s what her girlfriends are for!!). But, alas, she’s not in a situation where she has those kind of girlfriends. Mabye the story will change in the next few weeks.

Regardless. Guys. Do you have any answers for us? How do we get to know you without being too forward? Or too direct? Or too silly? Or too flirty? Or too much of anything? What’s the right balance? So that we can just subtly show you we may be interested … in getting to know you–to start with….

Duck-Hunter, what do you think? Can you start off the comments?

She was out in the bush for two weeks. I’d called last Sunday and we just chatted about how to feel feminine if you are out in the bush with a group of guys. She just said: “I don’t.”

Then she also clarified: “I don’t think I’d want to be a girl out here. Where would that get me? I have to work with everybody back in Yellowknife.” Then she said something interesting. She said that when you’re out in the bush for so long, people you’d never find interesting under normal circumstances start looking interesting. She giggled. And THAT’s when you know you need to get back to the real world.

Then we talked about a few things we do to feel feminine. “As soon as I get out of the bush,” she says, “I take a bubble bath. With wine and candles and aromatherapy and everything. And I clean up from being in the bush. I soak. I wash all the grub and smoke off. And shave.”

We talked about shaving for a minute and discussed that we both like clean-shaven men. We also talked about who should get a hair cut and a shave and how a trim and a shave takes a guy a long way (from being non-interesting to making us do a double take–quite literally).

We also talked about tips and tricks for shaving. Girls know what I mean. We all talk to our girlfriends about what works and what doesn’t work and we recommend beauticians who treat us well. And we’ve all had a terrible, horrendous experience at one time or another. So we talk and laugh. And I guess, we just bond. We bond over girl talk.

Then I asked her: “When you are just one of the guys, at which point are you a girl in a group of guys?” and, “Do you talk girl-talk to a guy friend?”

I don’t. Well. I don’t anymore. I’ve had to learn what is girl-talk and what is girl-talking-to-a-guy talk. And–well vice versa. And believe me, I had to learn the hard way. I now I like to think I have a better filter.

My friend did some research on her own.

If you are a group of girls and there is one guy, it’s ok to talk about things like bubble baths, bikini lines, and shaving legs.

If you are one girl and one guy (and he is not gay), that’s a borderline conversation. It’s a flirty conversation. Because it gives him a visual. Because if the guy is spending time with you and you are both single, there is a HUGE chance that he’s hoping that he won’t be single for too long. Or minimally, he’ll get to hook up with you.

So basically girls, beware if you are talking one-on-one with a guy friend. Know if you think he’s a friend or if he thinks he’s a potential boyfriend. Be careful you don’t say anything that will give him a visual (unless you want to of course). Because…you’ll know when he brings it up again that it was a HUGE mistake. You’ll know by the way he mentions it. You’ll know by the look on his face. You’ll just know. And you’ll feel betrayed. You’ll feel ick. You’ll feel like you lost a friend.

Which is usually exactly what happens.

We did wonder though–Do guys need girl talk? How do they figure things out–if they don’t talk about it?

She did research the other way too. Girls, if you’re just one of the guys–don’t talk about body fluids (yours or theirs). That is apparently TMI.