Being Dumped

So, those of you who know me, know that I went through the worst breakup of my life late last June. And, since it's been over a year, I found myself reflecting about my situation and what I learned from it. So, here it goes:

Breakups are hard. Yes, that statement is a totally overused cliche, but it's the truth. They're rough. Being dumped by the person you thought was "the one" does something to you. It changes your entire being and creates a bitterness that festers inside your very core...at least for a bit, while you're in the anger phase. It makes you eat a ton of Edy's Grand Light ice cream and then immediately book it to the gym to work off your guilty calories. It makes you cry every time you see the Wedding Singer on TBS when Adam Sandler serenades Drew Barrymore on the plane to Vegas. It makes you go see psychic after psychic just to give you hope that someone new will come along someday. It makes you form parasocial relationships with hot Travel Channel TV show hosts. (See past blog about Adam Richman.) Basically, it kills.

But, being dumped by the person you thought was "the one" is also a gift. It forces you to reach inside yourself to extract the gumption you need to move on. It makes you go on a date with a person of the same sex...just to see because you so never played that game in college. It allows you to take that trip to wine country you and he had always talked about with a good friend instead. And, you secretly know that you had a much better time with her than you would've with his hairy self. It pushes you to try dating a different caliber of guys, the nice nerd, who says "oh dear" instead of "oh shit." It helps you to be a better friend to others when they find themselves going through the same heartbreak. It gets you to write more, and you come up with several funny essays about your failed relationship, two of which are going to be in a book. :) But, most importantly, it teaches you how to have compassion and love for the one person who needs it most, you. 

For the Love of Boston

"I would've taken it if I were you," my mom said when I told her about my newest life drama. "You have nothing tying you down."

Um...leave my favorite place in the world? Does she not know me at all?

I can honestly say I've given up a lot for this city. In 2007, I moved here from south of the Mason Dixie Line after graduate school. I walked away from three dear friends and a serious relationship. Well, technically, the guy walked away from me. We tried long distance, and I even tried to get him to move up here with me, but no dice. 

However, I didn't mourn the loss of NapoDyno for long. I cried for maybe like three hours tops, ate a chocolate-covered coffee roll from Dunks, and I felt so much better. I mean, come on, I had Boston! And, she is soooo much better than NapoDyno.

I've wanted to live in Boston my entire life, and I can't explain why. I've just always felt drawn to this wondrous city. So, here I was, dammit. Sure, I was boyfriendless, but I had Boston to distract me, and it did.

Then in June 2010, my love of Boston was a catalyst in the demise of another relationship. He hated it here and kept applying for jobs out of state. It eventually lead to tensions and him deciding I was way more into the relationship than he was. It hurt like a kick in the face by a person wearing golf shoes. But, if he hated Boston so much, we obviously weren't meant to be together anyway. Ironically, I hear he's living in Quincy now. Which is kind of sad, yet funny. Way to get out of dodge, Sasquatch.

So, once again, I found myself on my couch, crying, but with the comfort that I still had Boston to come home to. And, she would never dump me...no matter what.

Two months later I moved out to Cambridge and fell in love all over again. Not with a dude, but with Cambridge and Davis Square. I n fact, I love my apartment so much that my poor landlord will have to drag my decaying body out of it because I'm never leaving. I'll even tolerate the yappy dog next door and the busybody neighbor who's always all up in our business. This place is worth it, believe me.

I remember taking the T home from work the first time after my move and seeing the magnificent view of the Charles River as the redline crossed over the Longfellow Bridge. God, I love this city, I thought to myself as I craned my neck to see the skyline whizzing by and the river gleaming in the setting sun. I smiled and silently offered thanks to Boston for saving me from a boring life in freaking Connecticut with a cheap bastard who had more hair on his hands than on his freaking head.

Flash forward to April 2011, which was literally the best of times and the worst of times for me. The company I worked for decided to close the Boston office. I was told I could keep my job if I moved to California.

Now most people who I've told this to think I'm certifiably insane. Who wouldn't want to move to Sunny SoCal? Nerdrodite, that's who! Hello, Boston is the love of my life!

Boston is my home. I love her for better or for worse. I just hope she loves me as much as I lover her. 

Fun Survey I Made My Writing Student's Do...

So, I made my creative nonfiction students do this exercise last night, and I decided to do it with them, so they wouldn't think I was a big slacker. So, here are my answers. The (___)s mean that's where I filled in the blank with my unique response. ;)

1. I've always wanted to (go ice skating with a cute guy who is strong enough to hold me up. I can't skate for shit, but I just think that would be such a romantic date. He catches me every time I fall. We go warm up with some red wine. Then it's make out time!)

2. I'd be afraid to (be in a dark alley with Christopher Walken. I don't care what anyone says, that dude is freaky, and I still think he totally had something to do with Natalie Wood's death).

3. I never seem to have the time to (get started on my 2nd novel. It's in my head, I just need to start writing it out).

4. When I was a child, I loved to (act), but I haven't done it in years.

5. I think (bird watching) must be a fascinating hobby. (NOT! Seriously, birds freak me out.)

6. I think (dolphin training) must be a fascinating way to earn a living.

7. I think (hand modeling) must be a strange way to earn a living.

8. I think (freelance writing) must be an anxiety-ridden way to earn a living. (And, oddly enough, that's my goal right. Bring on the stress!)

9. I have no idea how (wine) is made (except from what I've seen on I Love Lucy).

10.  I eat (almonds) everyday, yet I have no idea where they come from.

11. I would sure like to see a (real Man vs. Food challenge! Of course, my ulterior motive would be to win Adam Richman over and then become his lovely girlfriend and travel companion).

12. I think (Davis Sq.) is probably the most interesting corner of my city. (Yeah, I know it's not really a corner.)

13. I've always meant to ask (my Gram) about her job.

14. I've always meant to ask (my dad) about his fishing hobby.

15. I wonder what (worms) taste, (but am in no hurry to find out).

16. I wonder what (sex) smells like. (People have told me it has a scent, but I've never smelled anything. Maybe I'm missing something? Or, perhaps it's been way too long. ahahah!)

17. I wonder what (true/soulmate/half-orange love) feels like. (And, I absolutely cannot wait to find out!) 

18. How does someone become qualified to (write a self-help book).

19. When I watch TV, I always wonder how someone ends up with such a job as (cue card holder).

20. I am obsessed with (all things mystical).

Nerdrodite Gets Gumption

"I triple dog dare you to do it!" my friend and PIC, Megan challenged.

"Well, then I just have to now, don't I?" I stated as I slammed down my beer glass in a forceful, yet delicate manner. I am a lady afterall.

What in the world did my PIC challenge me to do? Keep reading.

I rarely watch TV because I'm so busy being the awesome Goddess of Nerds that I am. I just don't have a lot of time to curl up on my couch and veg out.

But, when I do find a rare moment with the boob tube, you can pretty much guarantee I'm watching the Travel Channel. Why? Because I freaking heart Man vs. Food, and I'm a tad bit in love with the host, Adam Richman.

What's not to love about this hostest with the mostest?

First of all, he's hysterical. I mean just the other day, I was semi stalking the show's website and giggling at his goofy outtakes. Check them out if you have 2-3 minutes to spare. They're a total pick me up!

Secondly, he's a smartie. I mean, dude went to Yale.

He's also adorable. Have you seen that grin and those big brown eyes? Yummy!

And, last but certainly not least, he likes food, and I bet that means he'd apprecitate a cute and sassy gal who digs a good meal as well. A.K.A, me!

Anyway, last Friday was a rough day for me, so I jumped on Mr. Richman's blog to lift my mood, and all of a sudden I had an inkling to post a comment professing my crush on him, but alas, I held back. Why? Because as much of a Goddess as I am, I'm also a whimp...or at least my second mom says I am. But, she's right. I can be whimpy at times.

But, when my heterosexual life partner triple dog dared me to do it, I knew I had to take a chance. So, here's what I wrote:

Adam, first of all, I heart you. Second of all, I think you should redo the The Kitchen Sink Challenge at the San Francisco Creamery...and do it against me. Whoever loses will have to make out with the winner. And since I can put away some ice cream, you'll most likely lose. But, it will be a win-win situation!

Ahahah! Is that nerdy or what?

A Little Slice of Happy

So, this post is from my old blog, but it's such a fun story I just had to repost. :)

I lost my grandmother back in June, and it sucked. (I know this seems depressing so far, but read me out. It gets better, I promise.) You see, most kids see their grandparents as kind old people who show up at Christmas with warm cookies and a hand-knitted sweaters. But, I saw my Gram as a friend, a pal, and a confidant.

My brother and I were lucky enough to have spent oodles of time with Gram and Gramps when we were munchkins. They babysat us every Monday night while my mom went back to school and my dad worked afternoons.

I have wonderful memories of spaghetti dinners (or sketty as Gramps called it), Wheel of Fortune, dunkin cookies, and picture books.

Gram used to put me on her lap and read me these wonderful tales about this freckled little kid named Sam and his group of friends. My favorite charatcer was Jenny, who was kind of a bitch, but she had a kick ass closet of dress up clothes. I would’ve put up with her if she let me play in that closet.

I lived for these books. In fact, I made Gram read them to me over and over and over and over again. She only had three of them because they were out of print and extremely hard to find. According to my mom, Gram used to scour the bookstores in downtown Chicago hoping to find more. But, I was content and kept on rereading them.

As I grew older our time together began to consist of other things: Golden Girls reruns, shopping trips to Kohl’s (She was always up for helping me pick out a cute girlie shirt.), phone calls about my disastrous life, and what happened on the most recent episode of Ugly Betty. And, so I forgot about Sam and Jenny…until this June, when she passed away.

The day she died, I went over to Sassy’s for comforting. Unfortunately, his way of offering support consisted of getting laid and then telling me he was thinking of moving out of state. Another reason why I’m soooooo much better off without his hairy ass, but I digress.

As I lie (did I use this right? Lie and lay always screws me up.) on his child-sized bed, staring up at his stupid Spiderman posters (Yeah, he actually had them. Dude was 30. I mean, that’s cute when you’re like 12, but a grown man with freaking Spiderman posters? Should've been a major red flag.) trying to hold back the tears brewing from such an emotional day, I randomly thought of how special those times when Gram would read me those stories were. The things you realize when someone’s gone, huh?

So, just three weeks later I found myself on my Mumsie’s couch, grieving over Sassy’s decision to throw me back into the ocean of single women, and once again Sam and Jenny popped into my head.

At that moment I just knew I had to get my hands on those books. The problem was, I could not remember what exactly they were called. My usually awesome memory had failed me, and all I could remember was that they were about Sam and Jenny, and Jenny was a bitch with cute clothes.

So, I emailed my cousins to see if Gram ever read the books to them. Eureka! She had! But, no one else could recall the name of the series either.

My mom and I searched the internet for hours, attempting different search terms. Nothing. I was crushed. Finding these books had become an obsession. I just had to recapture that part of my childhood. I wanted those memories back so badly.

During one of my searches I randomly stumbled upon some research paper about teaching kids to share, and the writer quoted Jenny Learns a Lesson, which just happened to be my favorite of the three books Gram had! Yay for me and my Google search engine skills.

But, I was faced with the problem Gram had years ago. These books were still out of print. The only way I could get them would be to buy used copies from people on Amazon. I really didn’t want to do that. I’m not very trusting. But, I was content that I had at least found them, and if I decided to take the leap of Amazon faith, I knew I could always change my mind and order them later on. I knew their names, and I knew they were out there…somewhere.

Three months later, the day before my little brother’s wedding in fact, my cousin wrote on my FB wall: I have a surprise for you.

I seriously had an instant vision of her handing me the books and me crying. It would be so freakin’ cool if that happened! I thought to myself. And, you just might be a little psychic.
 
She arrived at the wedding, and I pretty much attacked her. “Where’s my surprise?!?!?!” And get this! She made me wait for over two hours before revealing what she had for me. How mean is that? K-you know I love you. But, that was so not fun.

So, we trudged out into the rainy September afternoon and what does she pull out of the back of my aunt’s minivan?

The books! All three of them! In their bookish glory!

Apparently, my aunt found them while cleaning out Gram’s house and was about to give them away to the Salvation Army when my awesome little cuz spotted them, remembering that I had asked her about them months ago.

I hugged Sam and Jenny’s adventures to my chest and wiped away a couple of tears. I can’t even describe the feelings of happiness that washed over me at that moment. Plus, I think I’m psychic now. Maybe I can get my own hotline.

That’s a pretty freakin’ sweet story, don’t ya think?

 

The Set Up

"I'm taking my girlfriend out to dinner. To a place on Newbury Street," my favorite cashier at the Dunks near my office announced the Friday of Valentine's Day weekend.

Wow, a 19-year-old taking his girlfriend to a place on Newbury street? This kid's smooth. I couldn't even get my ex to kick in when I had to buy the Plan B pill because of a mistake on his part. Yes, his part. Ms. Dunks Boy is a lucky girl!

"That's so cute!" I say, and I really do mean it. This kid's a total sweetheart, and I bet they're the cutest couple ever.

He hands me my large iced tea with 2 lemons and 5 splendas. "You doing anything for Valentine's Day?"

"Nah," I say waving him off.  "I don't have a valentine this year. I'm hanging out with some friends. You know, keeping it low key."

His eyes widen and he looks over toward his manager. "Hey, Lance, she doesn't have a valentine. Neither do you, right?"

My own eyes widen, but in horror. Oh jeez. I kind of wish my iced tea was an iced wine.

The manager looks at Dunks Boy and then at me. "No I don't have a valentine."

On that note..."You guys have a lovely weekend," I shout in a puberty-ish voice. And, I bust out of there as fast as I possibly can while trying not to knock down any of the other people in line.

Laughter bursts out of me as soon as I'm far enough away. Wow. I did't know whether to be mortified or extremely flattered. The kid was obviously looking out for me, but at the same time, I kind of wanted to die a little bit. What about flattafied?

We Need a Goddess, Too

I became fascinated with Greek mythology back in 9th grade English class. We each had to pick a god or goddess and craft an oral report on him/her. Being the hopeless romantic that I am, I wanted Aphrodite. Unfortunately, so did the vast majority of the other girls in my class, and since luck wasn't ever on my side (at least it wasn't my entire high school life), Aphrodite was quickly snatched up before it was my turn to sign up, and alas, I got stuck with Pandora. Who actually wasn't a goddess at all-just the supposed cause of all the pain and suffering in the world. Mythology's Eve. Mythology's devil woman. Lovely.

But, through my research, I learned to like Pandora; she wasn't a bad kid, just curious and really really wanted to open that damn box. And years later when I discovered feminism, I would question why "women" are always getting blamed for stuff. Eve, Pandora, Angelina Jolie. I mean, hello, I'm a huge Jennifer Aniston fan and personally think she rules, but why are people all up on Angelina's shit for "stealing" Brad Pitt. He's the one who was technically still married when he started banging Ms. Tomb Raider.

But, I digress. This blog isn't about male bashing, although I will most likely rant about some of my bad dates from time to time. It's about the fact that the Ancient Greeks left out one groovy goddess, and that would be me. My name is Nerdrodite (Kyle to my friends), and I am the Goddess of Nerds.

I've been a nerd my whole life, and it wasn't until college that I truly embraced it. And, now I'm proud to be one. In fact, we're taking over the world, starting with Hollywood. Just ask my para social boyfriend, Jason Segel. I mean, the guy owns like 200 puppets. That's pretty nerdy, right? Yet, he's insanely popular, adorable, and makes my knees weak.

So, silly Ancient Greece, you may have forgotten us, but I haven't. I shall step up to the plate and be Nerdrodite: The Goddess of Nerds.