e-HOOOOOLY Crap!

Monday, October 25, 2010
8:40 pm  Make it stop!

Okay, I'm not trying to toot my own horn here, but this e-Harm thing is out of control.  Apparently I'm compatible with every man in the tri-state area AND THEY WON'T STOP TRYING TO COMMUNICATE WITH ME.  NOW, I understand how e-Harm works -- it's a sheer numbers game!  If they tell you you're compatible with 25 guys a day, you're bound to get along with someone.  No one would reject that many men for days and days.  I know what the evil people at e-Harm are thinking: Eventually she'll cave...

It's legitimately giving me anxiety (shocker).  I wake up in the morning and I've got at least 10 new emails from e-Harm telling me about all the guys who have sent me five questions.  This is the first step in the e-Harm "getting-to-know-you" process.  If you find someone with a profile that's appealing (read: they have an attractive photo), you can choose five questions from a long list to send to that person.  If that person isn't totally skeeved out by you, they respond and send their five questions.  The list is of entirely multiple choice questions.  Examples include "How often do you work out in a week?" to hypotheticals like "If you were in a relationship and your partner took you to a party where you knew no one, what would you do?"  Answers to that one are like "I would stick close to my partner and let him/her introduce me" or "I would strike out on my own and meet people" or "I would ask to skip the party."

So, over the past few days everyone and their brother has been sending me the five question thing.  At first I was hesitant, but at my mom's encouragement, I started to respond.  At the very least, this whole thing has really made me think about how I am in a relationship and what is important to me in a "partner."  God, I hate that word.

But of course, there are always the creepers.  E-Harm gives you an option to skip all the normal communication steps and just go straight to emailing or chatting online.  To do this, the interested party (the creeper) sends a note saying they want to initiate contact or whatever.  Then the innocent party (me), has to accept or decline.  If you accept, you have to first read a letter from e-Harm about online safety so these dudes can't find you and you don't end up in a ditch after being raped and murdered.  Comforting, no?

So far two guys have sent me such requests and I think my intial reaction was to scream "Oh, HELL no!" and slam my computer shut.  Then I called my mom.

My mom is a whole other part of this e-Harm experiment.  She's way more interested in this than I am, so I gave her my sign-on so she can pre-screen my prospects.  I see no problem with this.  It's kind of like a throw-back to the olden days when parents would pick your suitors.  She's definitely more lenient and forgiving than I am ("Mom, he's 23 and balding..."), but maybe I need a little more of that.

In conclusion, I'm sticking with the e-Harm experiment, even though it gives me anxiety, because I paid for it and it really does force me to think about what I'm really after.  If the thought of signing on to my e-Harmony account really makes me nauseous, maybe that's a sign.  Maybe I'm not ready for a relationship.  Or maybe I'm just not ready to risk it with crazies online.

Only time will tell.  I've got three and a half weeks to go...

Love,
Tara

Photo Not Approved.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

10:47 PM  Judge for yourself.

Tonight I joined eHarmony.

No, but really, I did.

I came home from work, got half-way out of my work clothes (I was too tired to finish), climbed into bed, ate some chips for dinner, drank a beer and joined eHarmony.

It wasn't like there was an event that sparked my desire to join.  I wish I could tell you some inspirational story about how a higher power spoke to me and I suddenly knew my destiny was with eHarm.  It was more like I was lying on my bed in front of the tv, trying to balance my empty beer bottle on my stomach when I stopped, picked up the computer, and typed in eHarmony.com, for no reason at all.

I mean, I kind of surprised myself.  Ever since moving to New York, I've fully embraced my single lifestyle.  I haven't really even been dating much -- mostly just reading and not cleaning my room and only shaving my legs when they start to itch.  I was single and SO not looking to mingle.  Until today.

So, whatever.  I join.  They ask me a thousand questions and then they ask for money.  When I got to the money page, I started to have doubts (a year for $20 a month?  Did it really take that long??  How would I feel about this come say, July???), so I texted my wise friend Arianna to tell her what I was doing.  I believe I likened the whole thing to jumping off of a cliff.  So, of course, she didn't respond.  But I knew she wouldn't respond because she has to get up for work every morning at 3:30 AM, and I knew she'd be asleep already.  Thus, I took her lack of response as silent approval and powered on.  It's good to have friends who support you.

But then I had more doubts, so I called my mom and she got super excited and started looking up eHarmony coupons online for me to use.  Then she put my dad on the phone and he asked me if I was shopping for a boyfriend online.  And this all happened after I had listed "friends and family" as two of the top three things I'm thankful for on my eHarm profile.  Figures.

So, I just do it.  One month.  Whatever.  $60 down the drain.  I'm feeling weird about the whole thing, but then...wait!  Seven matches.  SEVEN MATCHES.  The love of my life was less than seven clicks away!  I immediately started clicking on the profiles of these "highly compatible" men.

Aaaaand it took about 3 seconds for me to dismiss them all.

Five out of the seven had names I could not pronounce and profiles with some very broken English.  The two profiles I was able to read contained words like "free-spirited" and phrases like "I like spending time with babies."  I'm not exaggerating.

So, I'm feeling a little disappointed, now out 60 bucks and being told I'm most compatible with what I'm pretty sure was a middle-aged illegal immigrant, when I get an email from eHarm.  Another match, perhaps?!  Lucky number 8??

No.  The email from eHarm was to inform me that the photo I had selected for my profile was not approved based on their "rules regarding attire."  READ:  Tara, if you don't stop dressing like a slut, even WE won't be able to find you a good man.

Now this was really just too much to take, so I signed off, photo-less, and went to take a shower (read: drown myself).

It was in the shower, as I carefully shaved off a week of armpit hair growth (again, not exaggerating), that a quote came to mind, as they often do when I'm feeling pensive.  The quote was from a sticker that my wise, currently-sleeping friend Arianna had once found, taken a photo of, and posted on Facebook.  It reads like a song lyric, or a line from a contemporary poem, or, perhaps, the title of my future memoir:

There is no sex in the city.

Love,

Tara

The Sound of Settling

Saturday, October 9, 2010
10:18 am  Bah Bah!

After tonight's SNL, I will no longer be a page.  Earlier this week I was offered a job, and I accepted, and I'm starting on Monday.  So, as you can imagine, all of this news and change has come with about fifteen hundred different emotions that I'm dealing with.  At first I wrote that last sentence as "...that I'm struggling to deal with," but then I went back and deleted it because I'm not struggling.  I'm dealing.  It's just weird.

First of all, I'm really happy.  I'm excited about my new job.  It's in a department I love, and this job gets me further along on a career path I really think I want to be on.  There's a lot of opportunity to grow and gain experience and blah blah blah.  And there are the added perks that I didn't really think of until after I had accepted -- not being a page means I get my weekends back!  I get WHOLE weekends just...OFF!  What do you people do with that kind of free time??  I can't even imagine it.  And the pay!  Obviously you shouldn't take a job solely for the money, but after eight and a half months of living in NYC on $10/hr, I can't even tell you just how much making more money will mean to me.  Over the past few months my Excel budget has been in rough shape - lots of red and negative numbers - and it's really been stressing me out!  My increased income will certainly improve my quality of life.

But OF COURSE I can't be totally happy.  I wouldn't be me if I was completely, blissfully happy and at peace.  Sooo, there are the mixed feelings.  I'm going to miss being a page!  Obviously I knew this would all come to an end eventually (within a year, for sure), but it's still sad.  I feel like I'm graduating all over again - you work hard, knowing there's an inevitable ending, but when it happens it's still really weird and sad and disorienting.  And then there's the finality of it all!  Just typing that out I realize how ridiculous I sound - I'm 23 and starting a new job - there's pretty much nothing final about my situation...but it feels final.  Like, this is it.  This is your job.  Forever.  I realize that's ridiculous, but that feeling is still there no matter how many times I tell myself I'm being ridiculous.  When you accept a new job or a new apartment or a new relationship, you're accepting the good AND the bad.  There are things about my job and my apartment (have I mentioned this roach problem?) and my relationships that stress me out and drive me crazy.  And I'm agreeing to deal with that for the forseeable future.  And if, in the forseeable future, I get stressed out and frustrated at my job and my living situation and my relationships here, I have no one to blame but myself.  Because by taking this job, I've agreed to DEAL with it.

This whole situation - the great feelings I have about succeeding in the page program and getting a job and having the wonderful experiences that I've had AND the sort of sad, mixed up feelings I have about leaving pagedom and going forward into the professional world makes me think of one of my favorite songs.  (Has anyone else noticed that I associate a song with pretty much every situation in my life?  Is this normal?  Do other people do this?)

"The Sound of Settling" by Death Cab is in my top ten favorite songs of all time.  And the thing I love the most about it, is it can be interpreted in two ways.  When you listen to the song, you can choose to think of "settling" as giving up on the dream and lowering your standards and accepting the cards you were dealt.  When you think of it that way, it's sort of a sad song.  But you can also choose to think of "settling" as finding your place.  Fitting in.  Clicking.  In fact, I think of the way an old house creaks and groans as it "settles" at night.  I think of a line from 'Magnolia': This happens.  This is something that happens.  When you think of it that way, it's sort of a happy song.

Listen for yourself and decide.  Is it happy or sad?  I think it's kind of up to you.

Then again, I think maybe that's the way life works too.



Love,
Tara

Forever Young.

Sunday, September 26, 2010
5:18 PM  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E1nbvplgElw

Last night was the season premiere of SNL, and it was one of the most unforgettable experiences of my life.  I was on assignment backstage, meaning I was literally in the midst of all the craziness, and in-studio for the actual show.  It was truly incredible and something I will never forget.

But I'll also never forget the way it felt to dance for hours and hours at the after, after party with my friends.  Or the way I laughed so hard it hurt again and again.  Or the heat of all of us on the dance floor.  Or the spinning of the flashing lights. Or the way it felt to push open the doors of the UCB and step outside into daylight at 7 in the morning.  This picture captures a few moments later - after we had stepped, bleary-eyed and disoriented, into the new day.  It was the moment after we had all looked at each other and burst out laughing at the incredibility of it all - at the luck of our lives.  We are young and happy and excited.  We have shared unique experiences that few others will ever fully understand.

This picture captures us basking in the light of our youth.  I hope we never forget what it feels like to be so full of possibility.

Love,
Tara

Hello, New Theme Song

Tuesday, September 21, 2010
9:33 PM  Exactly.

I believe that the world should revolve around me.

Love,
T

Parasailing

Sunday, September 12, 2010
9:00 PM  Writing exercise.

Once we had completely ascended into the air, our feet kicking freely, we shared a comfortable silence, breathing in the humid air and looking down on the world.

“I was thinking,” she began, not quite looking at me, “that while we’re up here you should just yell out everything you hate about him. Just, like, get it all out up here where no one can hear you.”

The idea kind of shocked me. I’d been wanting to cry all day and found it especially hard to hold back my tears now. I coughed uncomfortably as a giant, painful lump formed in my throat.

“I don’t know,” I said, shakily. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Okay,” she shrugged, now looking at me. “You don’t have to say anything.”

I wanted to yell, but I didn’t want to cry in front of her. I didn’t want to spend these precious few moments I had flying above Hawaii with my sister thinking about him. I didn’t want yet another moment of my life to be about him.

I must have thought about this longer than I realized, because suddenly there was a jerk on the rope and I felt us being pulled lower towards the boat.

Now I really wanted to cry, realizing I’d spent all that time in the air thinking about not thinking about him. But I surprised myself and did what felt completely unnatural - I laughed.

It sounded strange – a forced, wheezy exhalation. A croak. It reminded me of the sounds I used to make after an asthma attack.

But I did it again. And again. And again, until it sounded like real laughter. Soon, I was smiling and giggling uncontrollably, kicking my legs as I was reeled into safety, my sister beside me, watching and laughing too.

Love,
Tara

A Day, er, Night in the Life

Wednesday, September 8, 2010
8:46 pm  Hmmm...

I'm at a loss for words... so I'm going to tell you about my day.  I'm making a concerted effort to start writing again, but at the end of a long, stressful day at work it's pretty much the last thing in the world I feel like doing.  That and going to the gym.  And I'm already not going to the gym, so I feel like I should accomplish something today... even if my current mental state (tired, cranky) is not one that fosters creativity.

You sure you want to keep reading?

Okay, so today I woke up to the chimes of my cell phone alarm clock at 6:30, drenched in sweat.  I was drenched in sweat because I had decided to go the night without using my air conditioner.  Labor Day has passed, my electricity bills have been rather high, and it was supposed to drop down to around 78 degrees...Who needs an air conditioner when all I need to do is crack a window? I thought to myself.

I do.  Me.  This girl needs an air conditioner.

Anyone who has been to my apartment (all 5 of you) will tell you that my apartment is always a good fifteen degrees warmer than it is outside.  The reason behind this isn't clear, but it's GREAT in the winter -- always toasty warm.  It becomes more of an issue in the summer.  And it became more of an issue last night as I lay in bed, willing the cool 78 degree breeze from outside to rush through my open window and over me...

But alas, nothing.

I was determined, though.  In the middle of the night, somehow, through my heat-induced delirium I remembered...I had a fan somewhere!  That would do the trick!  Sweating and swearing I stumbled out of bed and fumbled around in the darkness until I found it.  That sweet black Honeywell was too good to be true!

Indeed.

I plugged it in, angled it toward me, and fell onto my bed, ready for sleep.  But fans just push around air.  And if there's only hot air, they just push around hot air.  That's just good science.  And, in addition to not helping, all that hot air moving was blowing my hair around until it got stuck in the sweat dripping down my face and neck.  Lovely.

So, now it's early, early morning and in-between falling in and out of consciousness (I'm not sure if I slept or got dehydrated and passed out) I tie my hair on top of my head and try to sleep that way.  But then I've got all these wispys that are flying around my head and getting stuck in my sweat and then breaking loose and getting stuck again, so yet again I'm stumbling around my room, now blindly jabbing bobby pins into my head. Eventually I give up and wrap a blanket around my head like a turban.  I'll give you a moment to ponder that visual.

And I did all of this until 6:30 this morning when my cell phone alarm clock began to chime and I thought to myself, Why, God? Why?

And, instead of the usual silence, a voice (and again, this may have been a symptom of the delirium), laughed and said, Dude, you did that to yourself.

And as I sit here, in my room with my air conditioning on, it occurs to me that last night probably says a lot about me.

I am reminded of a saying:

Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer?

Because it feels so good when I stop.

Love,
Tara