Archive for the huh? Category


Posted in etcetera, facebook is the new crack, faith is action, huh?, Life, me, the internets on June 10, 2009 by drbolte

tired of the masses of people that i haven’t met/talked to/seen/heard from/corresponded with in ages and ages, and for whom i feel no real affection if i am to be truly honest, that populated my facebook friends list, i went on an unfriending spree last night.

but it really started with my  desire to unfriend, once and for all, my ex.

there’s no drama as there was the last time i unfriended him. i have just felt uncomfortable with the idea that, whenever he wants to, he can just pop back into my life via facebook. when that happens, it catches me off-guard and i feel glimmers of the girl i was circa fall 2007.

in case you’re not keeping track at home, i am REALLY not that girl anymore.

i didn’t like it and here’s the straight up truth: we weren’t going to be friends.

since the bff and i started dating, i had pretty much cut off all contact with the ex.  we had been, prior to the bff coming home, exchanging messages weekly. the ex is on a mission too, far far away in the far far east, and i was trying to be supportive and friend-like.  for a while, it was fine. we were friends, i suppose, in the way that we ever really were friends which by comparison with my other friendships remained strikingly shallow.  in parable metaphor, our friendship consisted of seeds sown in the heat of the day.  it worked, but only briefly.

once the bff came back and things started happening as they were meant to happen, thoughts of the ex quickly left my mind–friendship or whatever it was–and he became, as he was meant to be, a distant memory. except when he would pop back in and i would be jarred backward.  it felt wrong.  the bff doesn’t like him, doesn’t trust him, because of how things went down.  i think i probably understand better why things happened the way they happened, but i realized last night, as i considered whether or not to unfriend him, that we were really never going to be friends again–or perhaps it’s better to say that i didn’t ever want to be friends again.

for a while i thought that that was a character flaw of mine–to not be able to redefine the relationship once it changed. last night, i began to think that perhaps it is a strength to be able to see when something is done and to let go of it with grace.  i have always hated the part of me that held on too tight when something had clearly run its course. perhaps that part of me, like so many others of late, has changed.

i sent the ex a message, lest he think i was bitter, to explain my reason for unfriending him, to thank him for the blessing of his friendship so many moons ago, and to wish him all good things. i have been on the receiving end of unfriending of late and, if it is done without any real warning, it can be interpreted lots of ways. i really didn’t want that to happen.

i did know, though, that by doing so i was opening the door a crack. i erred on the side of kindness.

he replied tonight by sort of questioning my reasoning for unfriending him, seemingly halfheartedly wishing me good luck, and then telling me that he still wears the ring that i gave him (it was mine, it was a guy’s ring anyways, it was too big, he liked it, i told him he could have it, blah blah blah).

what do you do with that?

i’ll tell you what i did.

i deleted the message.

i recognized the guilt trip implicit in it (something i perhaps should have been expecting).

i let it get to me for a few minutes and then  i gave the bff the readers digest version of the whole thing and realized that this is exactly why i made the right decision.

i shrugged and moved on.

i feel inclined, right now, to move on from lots of things.  this one? i think this one was important.  far more than being about an ex, i think this one was about me recognizing that the choices i make for myself, as long as they are not intentionally harming others, are valid. i think this one was about stepping up and unapologetically claiming what i want.

this one was good.

i didn’t think i looked like a homicidal maniac on crack, but i was wrong.

Posted in bff, disney princesses got nothin' on me, dissertation, etcetera, huh? on February 4, 2009 by drbolte

i can’t tell you how many times, over the past four weeks, i have heard a variation on the following: “you look SO much happier.” sometimes i am glowing, sometimes my eyes are shining, sometimes i am radiating something.

now, considering the fact that i am completely and totally happy and feel, in some ways, that i have found myself in lots of ways–like i have come home–this makes some sense.


tonight, from a person with granted not that much tact in speaking, i heard that i now no longer look haunted, stressed, angry, and upset quite so much anymore.

but wha?!?

i managed to sort of laugh it off, saying that could be because i don’t do much work anymore.

(true story. one for another time.)

but seriously…this is like the versions of the YOU LOOK FANTASTIC weight loss comments i get or have gotten. did i really look that bad before?

i guess i must have.

glad THAT’S over.  goodness.


Posted in huh?, mirror mirror on the wall, The Single Life on August 16, 2008 by drbolte

once upon a time, when i was about 16, i went to a halloween haunted house. just across the street from the junior college in my town, there was an abandoned storefront that an organization took over every year and turned into an event called, if i remember correctly, “scream in the dark.” it was legendary in my town and, finally, that year i went with my friends.

it was so popular that we had to wait, in line, for about an hour to get in. we stuck together, through the thrills and squeals and surprised starts. it was seriously fun.

at the end of the whole thing, we got separated. i distinctly remember this moment, because it was embarrassing, as you will see, but also because it seems, perhaps only now as i think back about it in a new context, like a metaphor for how i operate.

(a day when i won’t find a metaphor in my experience is probably the day that i embrace geometry as my life’s work, but that’s neither here nor there.)

the last room was completely dark, the only light coming from glow-in-the-dark paint and a stream of light from the exit door. the only purpose of this room was to get you to the exit. that’s important to know. the exit door was on the left of the last wall, the glow-in-the-dark paint creating a walkway into the wall to the right. can you picture this? the walkway was a diversion, a distraction.

i fell for it. i followed the walkway, doubting the instinct/common sense/little voice that told me that the exit was, hello, where the light was, instead trusting the rules i’d lived by. the rule is, of course, that walkways and roads get you where you want to go.

so i walked into the wall, only then realizing that the place you want to get wasn’t always connected to the road. the teenage boys who were working that room cracked up laughing at me. i don’t blame them–they must have wondered what on earth my problem was.

i didn’t get it, though i should have: sometimes, in a bizarro world you don’t recognize, the rules change.

tonight i went to/planned a small get together for my wonderful pal’s birthday. we went bowling and to steak ‘n shake. it was good fun. playing with my friends is always fun.

when we went to steak ‘n shake, we were all sitting together. our waiter was adorable and sassy, and before i realized it, i was assertive and sassy back. and saying things that i never would have said before. it was fun. i was confident, and i haven’t a clue where it came from.

as we were all leaving, i was the last to pay and my friends, who had all come in separate cars, had already left. i went up to the register, where adorable waiter and his waitery pal (who i had seen him high fiveing in the back and talking to throughout our time there) were standing. waitery pal, who was adorable too in a sort of tall, independent film, curly haired (brookem, if you’re reading this, he had a GOOD HOH), guitar-playing, scruffy way, sort of leaned on the counter by the registers as i was paying and asked me how my brownie sundae was. i don’t really know how to describe his tone, but there was something to it. something i didn’t really recognize.

i told him it was fabulous (brownie, ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, and a cherry. tell me how that could be ANYTHING but fabulous? that’s what i thought.) and he told me that he had had a complaint about the brownie sundae earlier and so he was just curious. all of this while leaning on the counter and making eye contact and keeping the conversation going…with that unmistakable yet indecipherable tone.

and, while i sort of avoided eye contact at some points, i played along.

the whole time?

i had really no idea what was happening.

i should say, perhaps, that i knew exactly what was happening. i had known what was happening the whole time we were there. but i talked myself out of it, over and over again, not believing what i saw.

do you see the connection?

i now live in bizarro world where the rules are totally different. i haven’t caught up yet. i don’t know how to catch up.

when you’re fat, people don’t look at you. they look at you, but they don’t see you. or if they see you, they try not to see you. they look beyond. they look inside. nothing wrong with that. i don’t mind people seeing inside. i have a blog. i’m obviously kind of okay with my innermost thoughts being on display. my inside? i feel good about it. not to be obnoxious, but i know that i am quite awesome in that regard. i’ve had practice at that.

but i’m not at all used to being seen. not just seen, but seen, appraised, and obviously appreciated. noticed. and there being a positive reaction to that noticing. it’s a language i don’t understand. it’s a perspective i’m not used to. everything seems upside down and inside out. i used to be the one that nobody saw. now i’m the one that gets singled out? i feel like i’m walking into walls still, instead of seeing the door and going towards it with confidence.

i feel like the rest of the world is seeing me in a way that i don’t see myself.

how do you get past that? will i catch up?