dear you…inspired by the events of the last month (a whole month sans blogging? wthh)

Amanda, our waiter, Kelly, me, and Sarah J. at Graham Elliot
in Chicago for Kelly’s birthday!

Dear besties (all of you),
Thank you for being amazing friends. Thank you for being the types of friends I can see after a week, a month, a year, or a decade, and being able to pick right up like no time had passed. Thank you for not judging my choices. Thank you for always being supportive and having my back. Thank you for listening to get excited about a new boy (and then understanding when I need to talk about why it didn’t work out). Thank you for giving me so many fun memories throughout my life.
P.S. the rest of this post is not so sappy.

Dear Girl Scout cookies (particularly Samoas and Tagalongs),
With much regret for the number of you I’ve consumed in the past two days,
My arse
Dear Delta Airlines,
I understand why it takes so many trips/miles to get Medallion status, but that doesn’t mean you should board your planes in the MOST backward way possible. It’s faster for everyone if you just board the plane from back to front. Also, your terminal at JFK sucks. I mean, water catches and hoses to deal with a leaky roof? If I make Medallion status this year, it will be worth it, but only by a little. 
P.S. I’m only doing this because I’m hoping to move far away in the very near future and think it will be worth it since my company uses your airline.
P.P.S. Do your flight attendants really let people paint their nails on the plane and then ask me if I’ve said anything to the woman when I complain about the smell? Isn’t that what they are paid to do?

Dear lady painting your nails on the plane,
Seriously? Il y a des limites, quand même.
A girl who takes personal maintenance seriously, but realizes there are limits

Dear college band on my flight Sunday,
Was it really necessary to travel in your matching outfits on a red-eye? A RED-EYE?! And your outfits…not super attractive. And why were you all so chatty? Thank goodness for noise canceling headphones and Tylenol PM.
With hopes that you don’t bug other people as much as you bugged me,
A normally pleasant traveler (okay, maybe not lately, but Delta and their stupid boarding and ghetto JFK terminal make me mad!)

Dear 55+ year olds currently hitting on me online,
You are all old enough to actually have sired me. Yes. That word is gross. And that’s why I’m using it. It’s gross that you are hitting on me. You have children old enough to be my siblings and none of you have enough money to make me consider marrying you for it. What I’m trying to understand is how it is you think that I would actually be interested? Especially since I’ve clearly stated on my profile what the upper end of my age limit is in terms of a potential future spouse, and you are well outside that range. You like to say that age doesn’t matter, but when was the last time you went out with a 76+ year old woman? And I think I’ve made my point.
Thanks but no thanks,
A woman who still feels anything over a six year age difference is inappropriate
P.S. For those of you paying attention, there was a boy…there no longer is a boy (by mutual decision)…so it’s back to the drawing board (or internet, as it were).

Dear Spotify,
I’m pretty sure I’ve written you a letter before, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to adequately express to you just how much I love you. I LOVE YOU!

Dear Broadway,
Thank you for giving me a reason to love you once again. Seriously, it’s been a very dry year, but a few weeks ago, when the lovely Sarah J. (Sare, that’s your new nickname, btw) and Co. were in town, I got to see both Newsies and Once. I realize that Newsies is kind of a silly show, but oh how I loved it. So entertaining. And so fun to see some of the great Broadway dancers from SYTYCD. And then there was Once. I was worried I would not love it as much as the movie. I was worried that no one could be as good as Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova. I had no reason to worry. Wow. Just wow. I can’t wait until I can see it again. 
With a song in my heart and a smile on my lips just thinking about you,
there are a number of things I would change,
but not bad for two hours start to finish

Dear Art Studio NY,
For many, many years I have believed that I have very little artistic ability, so finally, I decided to conquer my fear and just take a painting class. And while I definitely don’t think I’ll be winning any art competitions any time soon (are those even a thing?) or selling a painting, I had a fabulous time learning a little bit about painting and feel pretty good about my two hour painting. Hopefully I can find the money to take some more classes in the near future.
The girl who is so happy she manages to find 20 seconds of courage to sign up for things that scare her

best pea soup ever

Dear Graham Elliot (and Kelly),
Thank you for what was probably the most amazing dining experience of my life. I knew I was in for something special for Kelly’s birthday dinner, but I had no idea just how amazing it would be. And with the best company in the world (Kelly, Sarah, and Amanda) how could it not be enjoyable. But the food. Oh, the food. Fourteen glorious courses and several adult beverages (mine were of the virgin variety, but still pretty special) and I am forever changed. 
With much love (and much higher expectations for future tasting menu experiences),
A wannabe foodie

not much to report

I was talking to Kelly today about the fact that I haven’t blogged much lately. Between new babies and traveling and work, life has been pretty busy and not super blogworthy. I mean, I think the babies are blogworthy, but while I was helping with them, I definitely did not have time to blog about it. That, and my sister has serious misgivings about pics of her kidlets on the interwebs, so…no blogging about them.

On top of that, there have been some new developments in the boy department…developments that I’ll be keeping to myself for a while because I don’t want to jinx anything. But in true Chloe fashion, you can be sure that I’ll be sharing eventually, one way or the other.


Remember a couple of months ago, when I told you about the PhD. I think some of you questioned my judgement when I posted about it. And to be honest, I did as well and actually took down the posts. But today, I’ve changed my mind and the posts are back up. So if you want the full story, you’ll also want to read this and this.

And why do I bring all of this up again? Because this past weekend, when I was enjoying a lovely time with my family, I got a text. Rather than tell you about it, I’m just going to post it word for word (no editing) because really, there’s no way to properly describe this. Oh, but before you read it, you need to know that the PhD’s name is actually Wayne.

From a random New York number:

Hi Chloe. i found ur # in 
my husband Wayne’s
phone, apparently he
is/was cheating. Thought u
should know. So sorry… 😦

Yeah. Read it one more time in case you are thinking you’re eyes deceived you. They didn’t. Or read it one more time imagining you’re me. Talk about a text I wasn’t expecting to EVER receive in my life.

So, now I know why he was so flakey. And why he never made plans. And why, before I ever even thought about it, he told me that he’d prefer not to be Facebook friends (incidentally, I didn’t think anything about this because I’m not necessarily all about being FB friends with just anyone I date.) Oh, and most importantly, that he’s a total sleaze bag.

Because I know you’re all dying to know what I did in response to this text (or I would be if I were you), I’m just going to tell you. I texted his wife back and told her that I was so sorry and that I had no idea he was married. She was super nice (to me) and said she wasn’t upset or mad at me, that he was to blame. The marriage is over, but she though that all of the women (“and I mean ALL”) involved needed to know what a jerk he was in case he contacted us again.

Bottom line, there are some horrible people in the world. Some of them are men. And for some reason, I have a penchant for dating them…although this is by far the worst of them. So, let’s just say I’ve decided to take a little break from dating.

In other news, my weekend in Indiana with the fam was super fun!

dear you…inspired by my slightly damaged ego

I have a feeling not all girls feel the same way I do, but whatever. I’ll own this. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on what my goal is), I think the majority of men who read my blog are married, so this information won’t be useful. Except to me because sometimes public venting (you know, to my 50 some anonymous and not so anonymous readers) is the way to go. And by useful, I don’t necessarily mean that I’m educating you in the ways of women, but this will give you insight into just how crazy we can be. And by “we” I mean “I”. So here goes…

Dear guy friend,

I don’t care how established we might seem as platonic friends, unless I initiate the conversation I probably don’t want to talk to you about my single girlfriends so that you can ask them out. It’s not that I don’t want my single girlfriends to date. I do. And it’s not that I don’t want you to date them. Assuming we’re friends, I probably think you’re a good guy worth dating. It’s that, inside my head what I hear is not, “Hey, is your friend dating someone?” What I hear is, “In case there was any doubt, I’m not at all interested in you in that way.”

Don’t worry. I’ll answer you. And I’ll pretend like it’s not a big deal. And I’ll get over it. And in reality, I’m probably not interested in you that way. But it will hurt my feelings and/or ego for a little bit. So maybe, instead of asking me if my friend is dating someone…just ask her yourself. It might be a bit of a risk for you, but it will be flattering for her and it will keep me from getting my feelings hurt. And, if you need her contact information…well, that’s what Facebook is for. You see, I want you to be successful. I want you to date. I want you to find love. Just not at my expense.


Okay, so now that I write it down, I realize just how pathetic this sounds. But, you know, I’ve never claimed otherwise.

hope and other things

On Monday, two days after the PhD emailed me, I was seriously stressed out about the whole thing. Why was he back? What did it mean? What would it be like to see him again? Etc, etc, etc.

So, I called my sister, texted Kelly, emailed Sarah, and talked to Jenna during our morning run. Yes. That’s what girls do.

All were helpful. All were supportive. But Sarah sent me an email that perfectly described why all of this was causing me so much angst. Here is what she said:

Here are my thoughts:
We date. We date stupid people. We date not-so-stupid people. We date people we like. We date people we’re not sure if we like. We try. We try over and over. And it’s all because we have hope. If we stopped trying, we’d feel hopeless. Or at least I would. So, we keep trying and trying, hoping that one sticks. Because you never know.

And that perfectly captures why I think I was willing to walk down this path. Hope. Hope that he would not be the flake he was before. Hope that I would be better able to show that I liked him (not one of my talents). Hope that he would be just as fun as he was before. Hope that he’d suddenly want to join my church and we’d live happily ever after. (Okay, that last one was a stretch, but you get the point, right?)

Despite what happened, and my normal propensity to find fault with myself, I don’t feel bad about how I responded. I’m not kicking myself for being willing to go to dinner with him. Or being gracious when maybe the safer, less vulnerable, and definitely less hopeful thing to do would have been to not be. I’d rather know that I tried, that I put myself out there even if the result is that I get hurt than end up alone because I wasn’t willing to take a risk.

All of that said, I’m no masochist nor am I some shrinking violet (before I wrote that, I had written “wilting flower” which I knew wasn’t right, but I could not remember the actual phrase). And I definitely (finally) have enough confidence and self-respect to realize that I shouldn’t settle for someone who doesn’t value what I have to offer and treat me well.

And so it is over. And the way I know it’s over is because I did email him and ended it. I would have just copy and pasted the email right here, but I believe in the full purge as soon as the purge can happen. So all emails have been deleted. And if I could figure out how to get my iPhone to not remember his email address, I would do that, too.

I appreciate all of the comments and I do agree that walking away with no response would have been completely justified and appropriate…but I wanted to say what I had to say, what I wish I’d said last November had I had the opportunity. And so I did. Basically, I said that I decided it wasn’t a good idea for us to get together. I told him that back in November, when he disappeared with no warning or explanation, I’d been pretty hurt and confused and that, while I did really like him, given the history, his current behavior wasn’t going to work for me.

I may have failed to mention that not only did he cancel by email three hours before we were supposed to meet, but even before that he hadn’t responded when I’d told him where I wanted to meet (he had asked) and I actually had to send an email to see if we were still on for last night (which I did at 9:30 am) and he still didn’t email me until 3:30.

Sadly, I’m not going to get my answer…but I kind of think Zach might have been right in his comments. And to be honest, now I don’t really care.

So, another one bites the dust. Again. But I still have hope.

ETA: To those of you who wondered if this guy reads my blog, the answer is no. I mean I suppose it’s possible, but we aren’t Facebook friends, the blog doesn’t come up if you google my name. He could possibly have found my twitter account and my blog from that, but…I doubt it. There are lots of other boy stories I have that I would not share on here because either a) they could easily find my blog because we are FB friends or b) someone I know might know them and…well, I try not to be overly dumb about these things.