Trick or Treat

As I am contemplating what slightly skanky version of something I should consider for the Halloween party I am attending this evening, my attention is driven to underneath my bookcase, where I see a little mouse scuttling by.

Instead of freaking out (as I did in my old apartment when I had the same issue), I calmly sat on my couch, pausing the old Friends episode I was watching, and got bothered. Ugh, now I have to get off my ass and get mouse traps, when what I really need to be doing is my hair and getting myself ready for this party.

I throw on my old college sweatshirt (which had spaghetti sauce down the front of it), skinny jeans and my flip flops and head over to the Duane Reade with my hair half done. I am surrounded by the slutty cop, the naughty nurse, and Tarzan as I ask the staff where I can find mouse traps. Yes, I am buying mouse traps, not body glitter, not beer, not candy.

As I set the traps, finish doing my hair (which came out great, by the way), and throw my witch's hat on, I realize, I am not about games. I take care of business and move forward. So take that my little mouse squatter!

**Writer's Note - the mouse has yet to be caught, but I am happily sharing my space**

The wrong attention...

As I settle back into reality, I am throwing myself into my life and more importantly, the job search - recognizing that the rent isn't going to pay itself. I find, however, that I keep getting the "wrong" attention in both areas.

I feel refreshed and revived, knowing I deserve better than I was getting before, both personally and professionally, but I guess the world hasn't caught up with me just yet. I figure, all attention should be good, right? Not so much. As a friend of the family set me up with a contact in my field, I went off for an interview, although I was skeptical that this will be a match. I was right. After two interviews and an insulting job offer, it almost makes me feel that my luck in finding that perfect job opportunity is bleak, especially since this has the only contact I have had.

On a more personal note, I continue to get calls from an ex, who is so eager to pay me the attention that he decided I wasn't good enough for almost a year ago. Persistence may pay off in the job market, but not as far as this is concerned

Let's hope the stars align and the attention turns more fruitful, as I continue to edit who I allow myself to receive attention from. I might be trying to put myself out there on all sorts of levels, but this is just the beginning...

Predictability

It's been a little overwhelming since coming home from Africa. There is so much going on around me, so much access, so many people - a definite deviation from the bush. I've been a bit of a hermit, keeping myself in my apartment, slowly integrating back within my world.

As I head out with friends to watch the Phillies (who ultimately choked), we landed at a local dive bar. Surprise of all surprises, everyone there was under 30 and in finance. I'm so over the predictability and realizing I know what I can get from that scene - not much.

I'll take my chance on me today, seeing what I can come up with, recognizing based on recent experiences that it is a hell of a lot less predictable than what NYC men have been able to offer me.

A Different Kind of Junkie...

As I have been in Africa now for a few weeks, I'm realizing that my priorities are changing. I am becoming a different kind of "junkie". No longer am I focused on seeking the perfect date and navigating the single scene in New York City. What I am seeking are new, more exciting adventures. I can navigate the dating scene, there isn't much new there (as it turns out), it has become quite predictable. Today, it's adventure, it's the adrenaline rush I'm after.

Last night while listening to the bull frogs and relaxing under the stars, I started chatting with a local guy, who offered to take me around Victoria Falls and show me all I need to see before I leave. Great, I think to myself, a little date in the middle of Africa! As I head out first thing in the morning for my white water rafting trip along the Zambezi River (boasting class 4 and 5 rapids, by the way), I was excited for the power packed day, including my afternoon rendezvous.

As soon as I capsized on the first rapid, I needed more. The idea of leaving after a half day of rafting was no longer satisfying. I needed to continue, chasing after the feel good feeling that this rush provided. With no way to contact my impromptu tour guide, I continued along the river, getting tossed around and rushing through the most amazing adventure!

Upon my return, this poor guy was sitting waiting for me, two hours later. Shame! With bruises, mud, and a huge smile on my face, I let him gently know that my heart was on the river that day...