Nowhere to run to, baby, nowhere to hide...

I miss Italy. 

While a normal person can probably come up with hundreds of reasons to express this same thought, my reason, right now, is that I miss being anonymous.  Traveling has always provided me with this imagined shroud of anonymity.  I could be anyone, going anywhere, at any time.  For the past six months, though, I have just been me, but transplanted to a place where I don't know anyone and no one knows me.  And the peace and quiet that I found was beautiful.  I started sleeping at night (without Ambien, praise the Lord!), exercising voluntarily and laughing multiple times per day.  My mini-heart attacks and full blown panic attacks were a thing of the past.

Since I have returned, I have felt like a bit of a ticking time bomb.  I kept waiting for the neurotic me to return...and slowly, it has.  It started with a night of insomnia, here or there.  Then, I had a drunken and hysterical cry.  Then I started leaving boys' houses at insane hours of the morning because I was getting the antsy feeling.  And today's events have pushed me over the edge.  I might as well throw in the towel, I am a neurotic, American, half-baked Jew.  I will never be a strolling, calm, European woman.  Boo!  But back to the reason that I am back in my old habits...

After a depressing morning of job searching, I decided to do something proactive and activate my JDate profile.  (For those who are unfamiliar, JDate is a Jewish dating site).  I retired from JDate a while ago, but after a conversation with my sister, decided to give it another chance.  So, I logged on, updated my pictures, tweaked my profile.  Then I pushed the magic button and commanded the internet to "show me my matches!"  

First match, right there in the middle of my screen, my ex-husband.  I am fairly sure that my heart completely stopped beating, as I felt light-headed and queasy.   And then I morphed into Teresa from the Real Housewives of New Jersey and demonically started pounding on the table while reading off his profile...Spontaneous? As long as it doesn't interfere with scheduled sporting events! Adventurous? Is loving Taco Bell really that much of an adventure? Loves to travel? To where, Indiana?? A foodie? See the Taco Bell comment above!  A wine enthusiast?  Miller High Life, for the millionth time, is NOT wine!

And then I immediately went on the defense.  If I could see him, then, gasp, he could see me! I immediately disabled my profile while I called several consultants, i.e., my sister and roommate, to discuss.  My roommate said, do nothing, who cares? Hmmm, no, that's way too boring.  My sister said, interesting, does he look fat?  No help! I was clearly going to have to act independently, a course of action that always leads to disaster.

I took a deep breath, hesitantly logged on, and made sure that my profile looked okay.  And then I started composing a light, breezy email to S.  Ah, the challenge of writing something that is supposed to sound the exact opposite of how you feel.  I think I succeeded.  I am not sure.  I just sent it a few minutes ago and am now trying to calm down and wonder why I have to live in such a small, tiny, miniscule freaking world.  Is there nothing that is mine? He took my money, some of my friends, my heart, our new family, and the north side of the city.  All I wanted was this tiny corner of the internet and to find someone who would not lie to me, and not be a sociopath.  

I give up, you win.  You have everything, the fancy job, the nice apartment, lots of money, health insurance, and now JDate.  But good luck finding "smart and funny," because you had her, and you stupidly let her go.

5 English language problems that may drive me to insanity

1. Irregardless. FYI, this is not a word. I repeat, it is not a word. And it is definitely not a word that makes you sound smart.

When you add "less" as a suffix, you are already creating the opposite of the word.

So, "Regard" + "Less" means without regard.

When you add "ir" to a word, you are creating another opposite.

So irregardless is NOT A WORD! And if it was a word, it would be a double negative word that meant "regarding!"

As an illustration:

motionless...meaning, without motion. Would you say "unmotionless?"

Or, senseless...nonsenseless?

Help a neurotic sister out, please, just say regardless, especially when you are trying to make a point and sound fancy doing so.

2. Chocolate moose. I reserve the right to be overly picky when it comes to the spelling of my favorite food. It's mousse, people, not moose. Likewise, when you are trying to have a rendezvous at a hotel room, you might want to direct your paramour to "Suite XYZ," not "Sweet XYZ."

3. I feel badly. Oh really? So you are bad at feeling? Did your fingertips wear off? Have you lost your ability to experience emotion? If you have answered no to these questions, then you just feel bad. Not badly.

4. Anything said with a midwestern accent. A roof is not a ruf. Milk is not mehlk. And when you always sound like a poor imitation of Steve Urkel, there is a good chance your accent is grating on someone's last nerve.

5. Corporate-isms. Just say what you really mean, and spare me the jargon.

• Get your ducks in a row = Get your sh*# together


• Dot your "i"s and cross your "t"s = Proofread before sending your typo-laden emails to the whole firm


• Carry the ball = Stop trying to get everyone else to do your work


• This is your baby = I want you to feel like the intern-level work (i.e., making copies) you're doing is important, so I am equating it to something precious and life-changing, like a BABY.


• Dynamic, fast-paced environment = You will work with stressed-out, mean, miserable people and have to suck it up


• Team work = Pick up the slack for your lesser-abled co-workers, who probably have a better title and bigger pay check

Facebook-a-phobia

I once dated someone who told me that my fear of technology was my "least attractive trait." Needless to say, did not date much longer after that conversation. Admittedly, though, my technophobia can take on a life of its own. And I am not sure how it happened. We were one of the first families I knew to have a computer (yeah, Tandy!), and I was obsessed with playing Oregon Trail during every free moment I had. I was one of the first people I knew to join AOL and "chat" real-time with my new internet friends, even though messenger pigeons could have delivered my teenage musings more quickly than my dial-up internet.

Some time after that, though, things went quickly downhill. I resisted owning a cell phone until 2001 (the horror!). And from then on, my cell phone has quasi-resembled a walkie-talkie, straight out of MASH. I think of myself as a quirky 80 year living in the 50s old trapped in a 30 year old body in the year 2008. Most people who know me think of me as anti-social.

My forward-thinking sister forced me to join Facebook, as most of her business school friends only existed via Facebook. For a while it was benign fun, and I was only a member because my brother and sisters tagged me in photos. Then, slowly, people began to emerge from the shadows of Facebook. Old college friend...click, Friends! Lawschool acquaintance...click, Friends! Hooray, I had about 25 Friends, not bad for a modern-day hermit.

Lately, though, things have taken a turn for the worse and I may need to de-Friend my entire network. There were only 65 people in my high school class, and now they all want to be Friends? We weren't even friends in high school! And is ignoring a "Friend" the new way to be a Mean Girl? And what about all the guys that went to the all-guys high school? How am I supposed to remember their last names? They want to be Friends? I am beyond perplexed by the boundary crossing of Facebook, so much so, that it is my new phobia. I log on in fear of who wants to be my next Friend.

And although I do not consider myself to be an overly jealous person, Facebook brings out all of the deadly sins. I find myself jealous beyond belief - So and So has three babies? Blabbity-Blah has travelled the world? Yickity-yack has boobs? Whoserwhatsit is married to that hot guy? The only thing I have is a picture of myself with an overly shiny, sweaty-looking Nicholas Cage. Oh, and Nick is wax. And I look like I need a good wax. Is there a way to display my shoe collection on Facebook? Or virtually hide under a Facebook rock for a while?