Chase (v): To follow rapidly in order to catch (this could pertain to my career), to go and follow in pursuit (I think I’ll assign this to love)

I wish I had a PhD in life, unfortunately I don’t. It’s a hard thing to do and being an independent woman in Boston doesn’t make it any easier; I’m a triple A, work till I drop, laugh a lot because I can, walk fast, talk fast kinda girl. I do it all and I do it in 5 inch heels.

You would think navigating a career and a new relationship while breaking the age barrier of 30 would be as easy as getting home in a timely manner during a sox-yankees series (this ladies and gents is sarcasm at its finest). However it is not and I am stumbling through this cray cray life one day at a time with a iPhone in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

These are my daily musings; my everyday observations. I am here to rave, rant , tell my stories and perhaps laugh at those times when wine and over priced shoes, tears just aren’t enough.

So what happens after you caught Prince Charming? You could say I’m still Chasing Boston.




Thursday, November 18, 2010

Episode 11: “The Chronicles of On-Line Dating”

On-line dating…where to begin?? Every day, there in my glitter covered inbox is a treat of an email just waiting for me to open it. What lies inside each one is a jewel of the inner workings of the male species, an insight of the male mind if you will. Below you will find the most random collection of emails I have received in my tenureship of the on-line dating revolution. These are actually emails, all spelling and grammatical errors have not been corrected….what fun would that have been?


Subject: hi
I like your pictures. You have amazing eyes. It seems we have similar interest. I’m a banker. I can assure you I’m know stiff. Maybe we can speak sometimes.

Subject:
So…..what do you do for youre job? Also your eyes are HUGE!

Subject: SO HAWT
ur the type of hottie that would make me stop playin around and wife up. We should make out.

Subject: You don’t look like a mess
You look a lot less psycho than most people on here, wanna grab coffee?

Subject: THIS IS RIDUCULOUS
I have sent you 3 emails, normally I don’t chase girls but you seemed normal, fun even but I guess I was wrong. I really hope this doesn’t have anything to do with my first email where I quoted the line from deliverance…..IT WAS A REFERENCE!! Apparently you can’t take a joke, which is fine if you are some stuck up Boston girl, who you said you weren’t, but I’m convinced that you are. You probably match your underwear (which is stuck up your ass) to your bra like the girls in that stupid girl movie.

I’ve moved on, in case you were wondering.

Subject: Charles River
I think I saw you running, well more like jogging the other day, not to be creepy or anything. A lot of girls have brown hair anyway it sort of looked like it could have been you. It was around 9am, was it you? I was the guy in the shorts and shirt running too.

Subject: I loved the Dress with the Flower
Email 1: really liked your profile! You seem funny and charming and witty. That’s not too common here in Boston. Tell me more about you
Reponse 1: Thanks!! Ask and I shall answer
Email 2: Have you ever been to prison? I sort of get that vibe from you.

Subject:
Have you seen any good comedies this year?

Subject: Quick Email
I was in Washington, DC a few weekends ago; hanging out with Peace Corps friends I served with and haven't seen in a few years, attended the Stephen Colbert / Jon Stewart rallies, and running the 10km they had that Sunday before heading back to Boston.

Then I came back to Boston and went to a concert. Also I like your profile and would like to call you.

Thanks for listening.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Episode 10: "The Letter"

Dearest Courtney

I hope your flowers make the trek back to Boston. If not- Do not despair, there will be others.

I love ranunculus and hope you do too. They are beautiful and delicate and rare and sweet and also damn hard to find (Long story-I’ll tell you later) Are you picking up on my analogy here? You, Courtney Lynn, you’re all those things and then some. I have thoroughly enjoyed your charming and electrifying company these past days.

The crystals are a sparking and magical prize dug from deep within the PA hills. (Following along?) Place them in a window or somewhere with plenty of sunlight or in a place where you have none at all and need some badly.

Take very good care Courtney
And thank you for being exactly you…… without compromise.

~The one that got away.

I received that letter at the security gate for my flight back to Boston. Mr. TOTGA had met me there to say good-bye with a package that contained a beautiful bouquet of flowers, crystals wrapped in linen, a bottle of aloe (for the insane burn I had received) and that letter, perfectly written on parchment complete with a wax seal.

Our story was simple: Boys see’s girl, girl doesn’t really notice boy, boy sends an email telling girl how she looked at him and it stopped his heart, girl is immediately swept off of her feet and the second she is back in town girl calls boy, they re-connect over sangria and the rest is history.

For lack of better words, he was a complete dork. The total opposite of my type but with the delivery of peonies in a miller lite beer pitcher left outside of my door one night, I didn’t know if I should laugh hysterically or present him with the “Most charming attempt to get my attention” award.

We would have been classified as a “long distance relationship” as realists we both knew that this could have never worked. The Romance of our story in that moment was much better than the fated end it was destined for.

The truth was we could have been amazing, but since we were two smart adults making an adult decision, we embraced, kissed and parted ways.

You could say he was my Aiden, and perhaps we will meet again one day in a market in Abu Dhabi.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Episode 9: “Going Rouge”

“That’s how the French do it my dear” the words barely made it in my ears and over the sound of my own lungs trying to catch my breath. I wasn’t sure what had happened or where I was, but I did know 2 things: 1. I was clearly in my room as I turned over and the sound of my air mattress was deafening and 2. That was the best night I had ever had…….ever.

A very wise, very fabulous gay man once told me that every woman should have an affair with a French man. I find most French men un-appealing. Generally they smell (of smoke and cabernet) and their arrogant nature turns me off quicker than a pair of mom jeans. The only thing going for them is the language. I have always loved a French accent and being able to understand it, well it does “that thing” to me……

“Vous avez de cils beaux” he whispered in my ear as we were dancing. I had one second to look up before he spinned me into a dip. I have always loved to spin, I thought to myself, and I always love a man who compliments my eyelashes. I felt myself blushing, swooning even but I couldn’t tell if it was the champagne or the accent.

The sun cast a sheer light over my bed as he was quietly packing his bag; I was wrapped up in his shirt which smelled of tobacco, V by Valentino and the rose we seemed to barrel though in my living room the evening before. His smile was warm and inviting and our conversation was candid. We spoke as if our acquaintance was lifelong and we were merely playing a game of catch up.

“I like the shirt on you” he said to me with a smile on his face, not in a “that shirt should be on the floor” way but in an utterly endearing way. I began to come to grips that I would have to say good bye to the crisp white button up. As I grabbed a cami and began the switch he looked up and said “Keep it” as if knowing that I could appreciate the fabric on a much deeper level than he ever could.

Our goodbye was cordial and the embrace seemed to linger long after his departure, I sat on my stoop and we watched our respective faces until we both faded in each other’s background.

I will probably never see him again, but I can offer up this one bit of advice; every woman should have an affair with a French man.