I'm Tired of Castles in the Air

They say you have to do something seven times to make it a habit.  But this is my fourth Christmas Day as a blogger and the third time I leave you, my dear readers, with a Christmas story as a gift.  So I declare this a habit even though it's only my third.

Anyway....  Merry Christmas!

My first Christmas Day fiction post is ....  (HERE)
My second Christmas Day fiction post is ....  (HERE)
See, even though I'm a left of center guy, no "War of Christmas" here Mr. O'Reilly!

Oh and since this is also my third Alex Blog post (2nd post was 2nd Christmas Day post above) here is the first from Alex.  If you have read some of my past post you'll know I have somewhat of a fetish for the Alex character from the movie Up in the Air, she is so Shannon.

Alex's Blog"

The Not So Chaste Tale of a Lincoln Park Traveling Soccer Mom

"Does this flight have a terminus?"
Alex speaking.......

Why is it that when you are young everyone knows instantly when you are in love.  "Oh you are just glowing Alex," my friends said after one of my early dates with Ned; "you must be in love."  And you know what, I knew I was in love too.  I could just feel it inside and out.  He was the one.  Outwardly I got chills seeing him walk around the corner, inwardly I knew because I was curious and fascinated to learn everything I could about him.  He held a prominent place within my psyche.

As easy as it is to decipher when someone is in love you would think it just as easy to realize the point in time when you are no longer in love.  Wouldn't it be so convenient if that were so.  But life blurs the senses at some point.  Career, kids, the yard all muddle a woman's mind until you just exist.  Then you wake up and realize that person you are waking up next to no longer captivates you, in fact it would be great if he could just hurry up and get onto work so I could enjoy my morning coffee and perhaps have a minute to read the Tribune before the conference calls start.

No, I don't recall when I fell out of love with Ned.  I think it was some time between fall of 2001 and summer 2002.  But it was not the cataclysmic plunge I felt when I first felt love for him.  This time the fall (out of love) was a slow methodical train ride along a track we could not depart.

For some time I then floated in stasis, mildly dissatisfied with a marriage to a fairly decent fellow who was entirely unspectacular to me now.  I've talked to some women who say "well I'm in love with him but I'm not IN LOVE with him."  I think that is pandering hogwash.  What they are saying is that they are in love with their yard, Friday night family movie nights, summer vacations at the beach, and the school car-pool and they are too damn afraid to say they are not in love with their husband anymore because that might upset the apple cart of things that now occupy the life they find themselves addicted to but certainly NOT in love with.

As you know my cure was Ryan.  He diverted my course to his destinations and has occupied my attention for some time.  He dazzled me.  He is ridiculously good looking, charming, and so unavailable on weekends that he placed no threat to my Lincoln Park home world.   I know people have called me a slut on this blog but really the 2 am sweaty energetic sex with Ryan was too intoxicating.  He had me biting my lips to hold back helpless screams as I firmly gripped the hotel bed headboard with Ryan behind me like some engine.  Ned is just too damn polite to even think about fucking me like that anymore.  With Ryan I felt electricity coursing through my body once again and that kinetic energy helped pace myself through my life and kept me going forward.  He gave me aspirations beyond my annual bonus that pays for us to have boat drinks on the beach at St. Kitts in the spring.

Of course the only problem with being sustained by inertia and kinetic energy are those very same Laws of Physics.  That night when Ryan foolishly tapped on my door just to say that he was in town he did not simply invade the sanctity of my Lincoln Park life he inflicted those Laws of Physics on my delicate balance of inertia.  That equal and opposite reaction stopped the motion of the satisfying existence I had developed.  And with that Ryan was no longer fascinating and captivating.  Well, maybe that time I did realize the moment I fell out of love but then again was I really ever in love with Ryan - probably not (well maybe I was in love with the sex but not him, hence my theory remains - yes I'm the daughter of a science teacher).  Maybe I just got tired of living among the clouds of Ryan's life.  When I was a little girl I used to look up at the sky and see castles in the clouds.  But when your a working mom and you fly through those clouds to and from work you realize all they represent is a great deal of turbulence between you and home.

But where does all this go?

The other thing I want to talk about (and I promise this will make sense in about two paragraphs) is my "blankie" from childhood.  I adored "blankie" and she was my constant companion.  At some point I probably realized that "blankie" was tattered, torn, and smelly but I could never give up on my "blankie."  I started to need "blankie" functionally less and less over time.  Sometimes I did not sleep with her anymore.  But one day I realized I had not seen "blankie" in several days.  I panicked!  I searched everywhere.  Finally our neighbors dropped her by, I had left her at a sleepover.  I breathed an enormous sigh of relief at "blankie's" return.  I loved her and in spite of her disposition I resolved to never let her down again.  Perhaps my 7 year old love was not the same love for "blankie" as my 5 year old love but it was a nobler and a more resolute love than before.  I still needed "blankie" if not functionally then certainly spiritually.

Now back to reality - Ryan's visit meant that I had to stop the undefined thing that we were doing with one another (maybe we should just call it fucking because in the end that is what it was).  Could I return to the stasis I was under before Ryan?

Before we go there I ask again why do we lose the "you're in love realization" spell we have in our twenties.  In our 40's is when it would really have some value.

Upon returning from the trip I took the day after Ryan's visit I mildly realized that Ned was correct that the clutch was going out on the Volvo and that perhaps we should trade it in while it still had some value and oh by the way Gary (at the dealership) had a great car in mind for us.  See "turn-key" that is why I keep Ned around.  The next week I was slightly happy that Ned left a portion of Brie, apple chutney, crackers, and a lovely little Pinot from the Willamette Valley on the counter for me to quickly consume before catching up to the family for the daughter's performance.  The next morning I was even more moderately satisfied to find two weeks worth of dry cleaning returned from the dry cleaners and hung in my closet.  That weekend I was increasingly content that Ned had gotten tickets for the family to the annual Joffrey Ballet's Nutcracker (a family tradition) with a nice dinner before at Spiaggia.

The following Saturday night was the annual holiday party at Ned's firm.  I had not looked forward to the party for many years and yet this year, I guess for old times sake, I was rather looking forward to it.  When we got there the usual people were there but I was content.  At some point Ned became involved in a discussion with a junior partner about patent law and problems with protecting intellectual properties as they migrate across the Great Lakes through maritime transactions.  I know entirely boring!

But much like I woke up one day and realized in October, 2002 that I didn't love Ned anymore I realized that this man, who I had now lived with for close to 20 years, was an expert at something and was revered by others.  In my eyes he was a guy who hadn't changed the cat litter box yet this decade and yet to other's he was fascinating.

I unconsciously touched his shoulder as mates often do and realized I really wanted to fuck this man.

That night Ned gasped when I stepped out of the bathroom naked.  We had passionate sex which of course with Ned meant missionary.  But the penetrating sameness of the feel underneath him and amid his arms was suddenly seductive to me.

The kids had spent the night at a friends so the next morning so I decided to cook breakfast for Ned in my thong.  I was delighted when Ned uncontrollably grabbed my ass and pined me against the counter.  I reached back and pulled his cock through his pants and guided it into me.  For the first time since Northwestern in the early 90's Ned screwed me outside of the creature comforts of a bed.  I felt sexy again as Ned pulled me into him.

Later as we ate French Toast together naked in bed I realized I had fallen in love with Ned again just as unexpectedly and imperceptibly as falling out of love with him. But the love I now had was more resolute and more real.  No, I didn't need him to pay off my student loans but I needed HIM, the guy who made a life with me and who I still wanted to be the last person I saw each day.

For good measure we then took a long luxurious bath together and then I screwed his brains out one more time before we had to go fetch the kids.

As for "blankie," I have her framed and mounted on a wall in the guest room.  I guess that's what I'll do with Ned some day as well, but hopefully I still have a few years left to play with him!  :)

One of the all time great movie monologues:

You know, honestly by the time you’re 34, all the physical requirements just go out the window. You secretly pray that he’ll be taller than you, not an asshole would be nice just someone who enjoys my company, comes from a good family. You don’t think about that when you’re younger. Someone who wants kids, likes kids. Healthy enough to play with his kids. Please let him earn more money than I do, you might not understand that now but believe me, you will one day otherwise that’s a recipe for disaster. And hopefully, some hair on his head. I mean, that’s not even a deal breaker these days. A nice smile. Yea, a nice smile just might do it. (Alex Goran, from Up in the Air)

All I Want for Christmas is You

Merry Christmas!

Trust me I didn't write this today.  I'm enjoying time with my family today of course as I hope you are!

About a year ago when I thought I had run out of ideas for my "Shannon's Story" I decided to go in a different direction.  I conceived of a blog that the character Alex Goran from the movie "Up in the Air" might write.  I really enjoyed it, that post is (here).  If you want more Christmas reading here is my Christmas day fiction post from last year (here).

Unfortunately the Alex post didn't get any comments so I didn't get any of that required positive reinforcement to stroke my ego and I didn't write anymore posts along this line.  But I kept thinking about Alex and the person she might be if she was a real every day person.  I have to say that what I think she would be is my Shannon (let's call her my faux-Shannon).  Actually the other week we were watching Gone with the Wind and Shannon was telling our girls how much she liked the movie.  Privately I was thinking that she likes it so much because she is in fact much like Scarlette O'Hara.  She is a tough and good business woman  (from the South)but perpetually dissatisfied and looking for her Ashley Wilkes who if she actually found him would likely be woefully inept for her liking.  Oh well, tomorrow is another day.

Anyway that got me to thinking that Shannon did reminded me of Alex and that I had told myself I would in fact try to create a side (fictional) "Alex" blog and that I may as well start now.  So here it is my 2nd post of (if anything I just like the blog name I came up with)....

Alex's Blog: The Not so Chaste Tale of a Lincoln Park Soccer Mom

"Please Don't Make it RDU for the Holidays!"

Alex's HNT!

Alex writing......

Goddam-it I hate to travel over the holidays.  I understand it takes a little more time to travel with those "little ones" but could you at least try to get organized before the TSA agent tells you what will and won't go through the screener!  Or maybe just get out of the way, I can get through before you can get the change out of your pocket so it won't cost you a thing but it will save me 10 minutes of my fairly busy and (important to me) life.

Sorry for that rant though.  Actually I'm pretty happy today.  Even under the worst conditions sometimes there are miracles to Christmas and often they come in unforseen forms.

In my case my Christmas miracle was Ryan.  I know you don't expect a Christmas miracle from your "fuck buddy," but there you go.

Winter in the south is not like it is up here in Chicago.  Here you get a foot of snow and you deal with it; life goes on.  But down in the Carolinas you get a cold front coming down from Canada mixed with some moisture off the coast and you get this thing called a half inch of ice.  That really doesn't sound like anything to someone who grew up around Lake Michigan.  To us an inch of ice means skating; but to everyone in the RDU Triangle last week it meant the Apocalypse and the whole damn world shut down.

So there I was sitting in RDU at 4 pm on December 23rd waiting for my connection to arrive from MCO to MDW.  But nothing, I mean nothing was coming in or out and the lines were just stacking up of miserable travelers just hoping to get home.

My emotions like-wise were stacking up just like those planes on the tarmac.  As I began to realize not getting home for Christmas was a real possibility I began to weep uncontrollably.

And then an Angel arrived.  He came to me from PVD where I guess they know how to take off in the cold.  I'm not sure why he even texted me.  We had joked about trying to meet for a "quickie" in the RDU American Concierge lounge when we thought we would be two connections passing in the night.  But he got pulled away from RDU and would be flying into CLT instead so I wrote off a meeting.  But then I got this.

"how long is your lay-over, I've got a car and time on my hands until I have to hand out pink slips along with Christmas bonuses to some Fed Ex employees in Charlotte.  I could still make that date for the Conceirge Club.  Or just a drink if you and Mr. Electric had relations last night, you're worth the 2 hour trip either way! R"

Amid my tears I had to giggle, he does make me smile.  It's times like that when you let your guard down.  I had never asked Ryan for anything or even expressed emotions.  To him I was some ice queen who never had a care or a challenge.  But I folded and replied:

"about to break down and that is not something I do on the road.  Stuck at RDU with nothing getting out.  I'll scream if I don't get home tonight.

I waited 5 minutes, 10 minutes.  OK I thought, no sex he thinks; I guess I'll see him after the New Year.  I think we are together at the end of January in IAH or DFW.

And then the miracle happened.

"hey I noticed that the American planes were getting out of here.  The last flight your directon is at 11 pm but will put you in ORD instead.  I took the liberty of using my points to get you on the flight.  How about I drive over, pick you up, bring you back to CLT and get you on that plane.  It's not the Concierge Lounge but you can give me a hand job or just pleasant conversation for my efforts!  R" 

 

All the spa certificates, jewelry, or honey-getaways to the Bahamas have never made me cry as much as that gift Ryan just then offered at that moment.  My head hit my lap and I did weep for a moment until I could collect myself and then I replied.

 

"you are my knight in shining armor.  Not sure I can get my hands underneath that sheet metel but consider me burritoed again if we do get to cross paths next month in DFW.

 

Two hours later I get his text.

 

"Driving up to baggage claim, don't make me wait there is a very tempting Asian lady that looks like she needs a driver."

 

I had to laugh.  I realized fully what he was doing yet I know he won't want to be recognized.  Somewhere inside I think there is a person who actually gives a damn but I don't think he wants anyone to know.  Perhaps I'll never know.

 

For the next two hours we moved cautiously across I-85 to my destination.  We did in fact have that "pleasant conversation" except for the quick drive through dinner we had at Chick-fil-A at the Thomasville exit.  For those of you Yanks up north CFA is a Southern delicacy of deep fried chicken served on a buttered bun with pickels and Sweet Tea.  The best hick food you can get for about $5.

 

But all the conversation and fried poultry helped avoid the odd topic that Ryan had shown me his heart and that I might not be able to look at him the same way anymore.  I think he knew that and was scared.  I was too.

 

A fuck buddy I can wait a month to see, but this?  I don't know.  A guy does this and you start thinking I want to pick the kids up from school with him or sit across the table with as we read the Sunday paper over coffee.  I guess the funny thing is that sometimes around the holidays or around birthdays or anniversaries a gal doesn't want things that glitter, she just wants to feel like she can still be pleasantly and unexpectedly surprised by a guy.

 

By the time he left me at security I found my eyes wet again.  Part of me wanted to drive over with him to the Marriott and try for a plane tomorrow morning.  But the thought of Sacha's dear face tomorrow morning pushed me past that TSA agent.

 

I guess all Christmas miracles are bitter-sweet in a way.  They bring joy, hope, and happiness yet yield the fact that Christmas only comes once a year.  I guess the real hope for the miracle of Christmas is that sometimes we still get pleasantly surprised and maybe one day it will last all year long.

As for last week, I made it to ORD and took the cab home.  Ned was kind enough to offer to drive me to MDW the next day to pick up the car.  The best treat was seeing Sacha's toothless grin the next morning.

As for Ryan he made it back to OMA late on the 24th and took a Regional up to MKE and then onto Appleton.  I think he was making sure he would spend as little time as possible with "the folks" as he says.

And now I'm here writing from Lincoln Park and wondering why I'm missing my "fuck buddy" so much and why late January in DFW can't come quickly enough.

And there ain’t no Road Just Like it, Anywhere I’ve found.

I have an MBa,  but my proudest academic achievement was Minoring in English and furthermore success in one particular Fiction class.

I signed up for Fiction thinking it would be fun and easy.  The 1^st day I met the prof, Dr. Dyke, who introduced Feminist Speculative Fiction.  I also think she was a lesbian who hated men passionately but that isn’t important right now.  So now I’m worried, instead of reading the Great Gatsby or Hemingway I’ll be spending a semester reading that guys are dogs!

Funny how adversity can often become a great opportunity though!

So we began reading novels about all-female planets that reproduce hermaphroditically and other utopian worlds where men are either non-existent or at least not important.

At mid-semester came time for a big report.  I had the feeling that Dr. Dyke was going to zing us guys.  But, surprisingly, we just put social security numbers on our papers.  So Dr. Dyke had no idea if the paper was male or female (unless she checked) but I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.  Anyway I A’ced the mid-term and then hit the final out of the park.

The final was a feminist novel about WWII that I contrasted with Herman Wouk’s the Winds of War.  I developed a thesis that the Feminist world perspective from a pop-culture standpoint more accurately represented history.  Victory in WWII resulted from a joint world effort, not American jingoistic cowboyism!  And because women are better at “no I in team” and tend to have more of a world view, the feminist perspective more accurately depicted the period.  Dr. Dyke concurred and I was one of the few A’s in the class!

So I got the satisfaction of knowing I could write like a feminist and hopefully Dr. Dyke thought student **5-**-***5 was one hell of gal!  Of course Shannon would translate this into “I’m  good at bull *hit’ing people!”  Which, I’ll admit, is often true!  J

So what does this have to do with anything other than it seems that I’m a closet Transgendered writer or full of *hit!   :?

Well, in a twisted way I have enjoyed my Shannon’s story.  And additionally I really enjoyed my AM Theater post Giselle Seeks a FWB.  So I guess I like trying to write from the female perspective.  Or maybe I’m just trying to evolve into Mel Gibson’s character in “What Women Want!”

Alex reminds me of Shannon

So now I have decided my next female story will be the mock blog I think Alex (from “Up in the Air”) would write if she was out here with us.

AM Theatre – Alex’s Blog: The Not so Chaste Tale of a Lincoln Park Traveling Soccer Mom

Alex speaking.....

Yesterday I heard that song "Lakeshore Drive" and it took me back to high school and the night I gave my virginity to a cute boy with that song in the background on some “oldies” station.

After enjoying that memory I started thinking about my life and where I was going back in the 90’s and where I’ve been.  For so many years I’ve understood exactly who I was.  And now that I’m 2 years beyond 40 I’m trying to decide if I know more about myself than I did listening to Alliotta and Haynes sing that song while having sex in my boyfriends car near the lake.

I was a Chicago girl then and I still am today.

But perhaps I should introduce myself before I go on.  I’m Alex a 42 year old mom of two with a fast paced career in consulting and married to my post college aspirational man for these past 18 years.

I do love living in the city.  We moved back to the Lincoln Park area a few years ago.  This is a hip trendy enclave within the city.  I like the mixed pace.  It’s funny how you can move back into the city to enjoy the slow life.  I love being able walk to a whole foods store for my coffee in the morning or take the El to soccer practice.

We tried the 3,000 square ft McMansion in Napierville for a few years.  But Ned (my husband) and I decided to move back into the city a few years ago and I have no regrets.  The city is all about independence and that is what I feel in myself these days.  In Napierville we were chained to an hour plus commute, yard care, and boring neighbors whose few interests included refinancing, home schooling, and watching the grass grow.  Funny, sounds kind of like a relationship if you’re not careful.

I grew up in Evanston, the precocious child of two teachers (my dad being a headmaster of a progressive Country Day School).  I guess being good on the outside made me want to be a little bad on the side.  But mostly in high school and college I was the high performing type who also dated the basketball star.  At Northwestern I dated the point guard, Bobby, for two years.  But somewhere during my senior year I started to think I had more to offer the world than to be Mrs. Point Guard.  Perhaps Dr. Bronstein, my Marketing Psychographics professor, helped that as well.  I decided at that point to change majors from dating jocks to dating professors.  Perhaps Dr. Bronstein’s nice ass and the fact that he spent summers in Spain made him alluring.  But after taking Dr. Bronstein’s class and a half semester Independent study I decided to move on.

After that semester fling with the Baby Boom generation I met Ned.  I was close to graduation and I felt I needed to settle into my generation.  Ned was what I knew I wanted all along.  He was to be the editor of the Northwestern law review next year, a sure fire star Tax Attorney in waiting, from an affluent gentrified family that was well traveled, and very confident.  Did I mention he was everything except a guy who could make me cum 3 times in one night?  Well, I had my jocks, my musicians, my professors – it was time to settle down, this is the guy who I will own a home with, have pleasant conversation and children with, go to concerts and soccer games with.  I’d moved on, maybe my clit should as well I told myself.  At the end of the day all those “great sex” guys were never that great after about 5 months anyway.  Or so I told my 20-something self.

Alex's 1st HNT as well

Now flash forward to 2012 and I have realized that family, career, and great sex are not always concentric circles within the life of a 40 year old woman and yet should not be mutually exclusive.  But how to make those circles overlap into one life that I can enjoy?  Well, I guess that’s why we blog!  So that voyage of discovery will be the mission of this blog going forward.

I hope some of you will join me and let me know your thoughts.