The Lost Plum…

I have been gone for what seems like no time at all, but in actuality has been a pretty long time in the blogosphere.

I’ve been working, playing, escaping, enjoying, stressing, working, laughing, crying, writing and enjoying all things offline (but still on) and trying to figure out how one comes back after an absence like mine.

What do I write? What do I say? Do I talk life, love, relationship status, make a stupid list, discuss the hot ‘topics’? What is a plum to do?

So….I do what any normal person in my predicament would do. I write down 15 topics and pick one from a hat. Actually I number them and have the computer generate a random number, but lets pretend a hat was involved.

I ‘pull’ THE IDEA OF LOVE.

A little heavy for one to come back with don’t you think.

Why did I even write that topic down I have nothing in mind for it. Why couldn’t the computer have said 3? I want to tell that embarrassing story that goes perfectly with number 3, but I get number 8: THE IDEA OF LOVE.

I need to think about this one for the day.

Tomorrow I will write about THE IDEA OF LOVE.

I am back after all, what else do you want?

We live in a world where text messages, IMs, emails, RSS feeds, and tweets dominate how we communicate or receive news. (And I guess you can through the phone into this equation as well)

My mother once called me 19 times within a 3-hour period (no message) when I finally picked up one of her calls after I had gotten out of a meeting:

“What! What do you want?”

“Oh..hi..haven’t heard your voice in a few days..how are things?”

“Did someone die?”

“No, why?”

“Cause unless someone dies don’t call me 20plus times in a day.”

“Oh, well if someone died I’d just send you an email.”

Great thanks mom. I can just see it now: “so and so died today. Very sad. It’s really sunny here today but looks like you are getting rain in NY. Pack an umbrella. Love you” (no joke that what it would be!)

So maybe I can rationalize a death email, maybe. Maybe even via facebook, or an IM.  People are always complaining about being broken up via facebook. Well actually I’ve only ever heard of girls complaining about this, which sorta equals you’re a big crazy and he doesn’t want to even talk to you.

But in a world full of all these impersonal forms of communications for important messages, where do we draw the line.

It’s become the norm like a said to breakup online, via email, or text. People have proposed via twitter, and updated facebook status from a funereal.

What should be personal, and what shouldn’t?

I think everything goes. If you want to say your vows on twitter, or tell the world on facebook that you cheated on you boyfriend, go for it. Be my guest.

But then there is one thing I think has to be a personal moment, one thing that completely changes when it’s done in person.

The simple apology.

Having someone apologize for bad behavior via IM or text, or even facebook is not and can never be the same as a simple to your face apology.

In fact, can you really be forgiven if you don’t ask for it in person?

Every Sunday I post my SUNDAY PULL which is a collection of pickup lines, all real, and all used on me.

I’ve said it before but I want to repeat it again is that these pickup lines I have been collecting for eight years. EIGHT!  That’s along time. I have three note books / journals filled with these and therefore I have my Sunday posts set for years, even if I have nothing else to say I’ll always have my Sunday post.

I get a lot of messages, twitter replies, and DMs about these incidences. Most people think they happen recently even that week.  Although some are recent with many since I’ve been in NYC, most haven’t happened in the last few months.

I have not really been “picked up” “been hit on” or had creepers talk to me in a while.  Now one could say it’s cause I’m taken, but then again there is that age old argument that when you are taken is when people show the most interest: and I’m a firm believer in that idea.

So I’m going to tell you why I’m not getting hit on, and it’s very true.

I get hit on far less because I frankly have gotten fat.

Like more then I’ve ever weighed in my life plus 46 pounds.

I am kid of pretty. I mean let’s be honest, I’m not hideous. But I have got fat.

And guys don’t hit on fat girls.

They just don’t.

Now yes yes yes there are those guys that love them some thing to grab onto, I’m not arguing that. But those aren’t the majority.

And yes there are just straight up creepers out there who hit on anything with boobs, but when you are overweight female (especially in NYC) your chances of being picked up go way down.  They just do. It has nothing to do with confidence, or how you put yourself out there, or any of those relevant but bullshit answers.

I had this conversation with a bunch of girl friends whose weight has fluctuated, and they all agreed with me. Fat is less desirable. That’s just a fact of life.

Again I’m not saying fat girls don’t get hit on, or shouldn’t get hit on.  We’re all deserving of love, but some just aren’t shown it as much as others.

But then again, maybe they should, wouldn’t some say they are an easy target?

I’m the same person I’ve always been just with a bigger waistline, and guys don’t hit on me as much as they have in the past.

And I’ve become highly suspicious of any “fat girl” who claims to be hit on all the time.

What say you?

So I’m out at lunch with a friend I haven’t seen in almost a year since she’s been out of the city for work. I telling my friend about my boy, my guy, dare I say it: my boyfriend.

And I’m telling his “story” the details, you know how girl-friends talk.

I’m not talking very loud, as I tend to be soft spoken, if you can imagine that!

We’re chatting away about “baby boy” and all of a sudden this girl from the table next to me leans over.

SIDEBAR: tables in NY tend to be very close together, and sometimes you feel like you are dinning with strangers.

“Are you talking about “baby boy”?”

“Yes” I say with my mouth, but my eyes were totally saying “nosey bitch”

She gives me this look and says with some terrible white girl attitude, “Good luck with that.”

My friend of course jumps in “what the fuck bitch…first off you’re the one in need of luck that we don’t…”

I of course can only giggle at the situation, as my friend is ripping this chick a new one.

She trails off as the girl and her friend sign their cheque and exit.

I could let this situation run for hours in my head, and I’d probably be lying if I said I didn’t want to know what that lanky bad nose, bad teeth chick was talking about, but more likely I just kind of laugh at the ridiculousness that is life, and more likely women…we are crazy sometimes!

Who does things like that?

I’ve always had a tendency to say what I’m thinking…. well without thinking.

I’ll mutter things under my breath, make comments or comebacks that might have always been quick on the draw but sometimes may have been inappropriate.

I’ve many times caught myself on a date saying, “I’m sorry we just meet and I’m already making fun of you” which by the way all were funny comments. (I can be hilarious at times)

When I got my big corporate job this had to change. Which some people found funny, as I had to be professional at an establishment many view as quite the opposite. I had got pretty good not saying things, but needed to started mastering the art of not making sounds. You know those sounds of disbelief that escape your mouth when someone would say something utterly stupid in a meeting.

SIDEBAR: I somewhat mastered this…somewhat.

The facial feature looks of disgust I’m still working on. I’m pretty terrible at making faces.

But when I’m comfortable. Truly at easy and enjoying myself I resort back to my old ways, and have a tendency to say things aloud without thinking. In fact many times I say things aloud that I think I am only thinking in my head.

FACT: this may or may not steam from the fact that I spend many hours working from home alone now, and say things to myself out loud.

Well sometimes accidently saying what I’m thinking gets me into trouble and sometimes it’s down right embarrassing:

Things were hot and heavy, and it’s going really good. I’m totally in the moment. We’re both in the moment…. the missionary moment. And the moment is good.

A thought pops in my head.

He stops.

I open my eyes.

He is staring at me with a puzzled but scared and mixed with a little concern look.

“Are you serious?” He says.

“What?”

“Do you?”

Awkward silence, for a minute as he’s looking down at me and I’m looking up.

With shock on my face, “Did I say that out loud!?”

“Did you think you didn’t!?”

“Oh my god! I thought it in my head!” I begin to laugh from mainly embracement.

He beings to laugh.

“I’m so embarrassed…..I didn’t mean to say that out loud”

I’m hiding my face in a pillow I’m so embarrassed but yet I’m shaking from uncontrollable laughter.

After what feels like 15 minutes of us both laughing a silence falls. He reaches over and hugs me, kisses my head and in his best Plum impression repeats what I had said.

“I think I have to fart?”