Wow, has it really been three weeks since I last posted? Time flies when you're in love with life.

So I'm back in Z-town for the week, for the first time since I moved away in May. I got in yesterday morning, and Kanga and Roo came to the airport to pick me up. It was so strange and familiar to come back. I've seen this airport more than any other airport in the world. The signs in German, the funny local accent, the super-clean bathrooms, the efficiency of everything running perfectly on time, the piped in cows and yodeling that they play in the shuttle between terminals -- I had tucked these things into my memories of the past, and they all popped out into the present when I got off the plane. It made me miss my old life even more, to suddenly be immersed in all these little details. And it keeps happening -- I walk down familiar streets, see my breath in the cold air, check the time on Kanga and Roo's clock while sitting on their couch, order soup in the funky student co-op bar, catch the tram to get to work -- and I wonder if I ever actually left, and if the past six months have just been a figment of my imagination.

But the past six months have really happened. My old officemate's hair is six months longer than it was the last time I saw him. My gloves and hat are being used for the first time since last winter. My old kitchen things have found a new home in Kanga and Roo's kitchen -- they aren't mine anymore. And I have also become six months different -- I have a new job, a new intolerance for cold weather, a new boyfriend, a new car, a new apartment, a new life. This one is fun to come back to and reminisce about and try on for a week, but I can already see the six months of difference that lie between Me Now and Me Then.

I miss being Me Then, but I'm enjoying being Me Now.

So what's been going on since the last entry... The election!! That was pretty exciting, except for the fact that Prop 8 passed in California -- that was the big bummer of the season. And Boulevard night -- we cooked and cooked and cooked, and the food turned out really spectacularly well. We were really proud of ourselves for cooking a pretty fantastic meal.

What else... We had another dinner club up in the city, where we made Korean and Japanese food and played Rock Band. Superman, my officemate, and I tried miracle fruit with a few other friends. It was pretty cool, but I wouldn't call it "miracle fruit." Maybe "interesting fruit." Superman met my sister and her family, he had dinner with a bunch of my college friends, he brought me along to a dinner with an old friend of his who was visiting, and he even said he would like go to my cousin's wedding if I want to bring him -- he's strangely unafraid to dive right into things like meeting family and friends, letting me leave stuff at his place, and so on. I think I worry about it more than he does, just because I don't want to weird him out by all these things that generally signify significance. He is undaunted by significance.

I think that in most cases, when you date a coworker, you spend a lot of time together, just because you work at the same place. It's even more like that if you work where we work, because it's so much like being in college again, where you eat all of your meals together, work together, go to happy hour together, and hang out with coworkers after work together. Superman and I spend maybe three nights a week together, but we eat almost every meal together (usually at work), and often hang out after dinner for a while before going home, so that even on nights that we don't sleep in the same place, we still spend a few hours hanging out. It sounds claustrophobic, but it isn't, really, because we often hang out with other people (who don't know that we're dating, so the secret makes things interesting), and we are so entirely companionable that hanging out really doesn't take much out of me (which isn't always the case).

Kanga asked me about Superman, and what it is that I like about him. I don't really know what there is not to like about him -- I haven't found anything yet. He is smart -- Smart with a capital S -- smarter than me (although he claims otherwise), and smarter than FX. I never say that about anyone I date. He is Funny -- the funniest person I've ever dated, and he can crack me up with a single word or narrowing of the eyes. He always has the same thought as I do, and we always say it at the same time, and then crack up twice as much because of it. He is Nice and Interesting and Adventurous and Independent, he loves food and wine, and knows something about everything. He is almost everything I like about myself, but even moreso, and the opposite of most things that I dislike about myself. He isn't jealous or possessive and wants me to spend as much time with my friends and exes as I want. I can't wait for my friends to meet him, because I am positive that they will like him as much as I do (and maybe even more than they like me). He doesn't want kids!! That's been an issue that has derailed relationships for me in the past, but he shares my love of a life unencumbered by dependent minors. And despite being so wonderful, he likes me as much as I like him, which is pretty mind-boggling, but highly appreciated on my part.

Things have moved quickly, in that we are already a "we," we use the L word, we are planning vacations, we are allowing our worlds to collide on many levels, and so on, but it feels so easy and natural. It's partly because we knew each other so well before making the transition (I'm still wondering, how did we accidentally fall in love without realizing it??), partly because our lives already had so much overlap with work and friends at work, and partly because we intuitively understand each other, because our minds work so similarly.

The only things that give me pause are that he is somewhat more reserved than I am, and he is definitely more grown-up than I am. But I am quickly discovering that his reserve is only on the surface, and he is willing to be less set in his grown-up ways -- I think he actually wants to get out of his rut and live a little differently. So there is hope that he might actually be perfect.

Can things really be this easy? No way, right? Something has to happen. It's still early in our relationship. Something has to come up to make things harder and take the shine and sparkle off of it. He can't be this amazing, there's just no way. Keep your fingers crossed for me that he is.

So I suppose it's obvious that something was going to happen with Superman, and that the line would be crossed. It was strange to cross that line, because we have been coworkers and friends all along, with no hint of impropriety. Even when we started having suspicions that maybe we didn't see each other just as colleagues, everything was as proper as a Jane Austen novel -- I don't think we ever touched, except maybe if we shook hands upon meeting in May. Perhaps an accidental brush of a hand when passing out wine, or something, but nothing improper.

To go from that to a non-platonic form of interaction is a big adjustment. So it's been a rather careful and deliberate testing of boundaries, which makes it all the more fun. What makes it even odder is that as soon as anyone from work is around, we have to forget about this little side project and act as if nothing is going on. It's sort of hard to figure out how to give that impression, since before anything was going on, even in our heads, people thought something was going on, because we were always talking and laughing at private jokes and hanging out. So I'm not sure how to act "natural" without raising suspicion, since what was natural before was raising suspicion, even though suspicion was not warranted at the time.

It's a problem, yes, but what an amusing problem to have. We are still taking things at a rather dignified pace, in terms of figuring out what we're going to do. We're still weighing out how it would affect our friendship, and what to do about the work thing. I guess we're just testing the waters a bit to see if it would make sense to dive all the way in. We'll see... Superman is a lot like me in many ways -- we laugh at the same things, make the same jokes, and share the same opinions and perspectives on a lot of things, both significant and trivial. On the other hand, he is older and much more "settled" in his life than I am in mine. He has a house, a yard boy, a garage, and a wine cellar. He has various home improvement projects in the works. I'm not sure I would feel comfortable slowing down to that speed. On the other hand, I think that one of the reasons he likes hanging out with me is that I am constantly trying to push him out of his comfortable rut and onto uncomfortable paths, so maybe I won't have to slow down. Maybe he'll speed up.

Last week was a bad week, sleep-wise. The stress of finishing up the Apple situation, some recurring nightmares, and a couple of late nights talking to and canoodling with Superman have taken their toll. Must. Sleep. More. Other than the stress and sadness of dealing with Apple, and the exhaustion from lack of sleep, however, I think it was a good week, overall. It's good to have tied up that last loose end, and to be able to turn and face forward and live my life in one piece. It's such a relief. I've finally placed my bets on this life, and I'm pretty sure it was the right thing to do.

Speaking of Superman, I am loving this video these days. It cracks me up every time I even think about it, much less watch it.

It’s been a busy week. Not in terms of work – work has been pretty slow since I managed to push drafts for five deals out in one day a couple of weeks ago. They are trickling back in with edits for review, but pretty slowly.

I broke things off with Apple. It took about a month of agonizing and delaying, which is actually not so bad, given my track record of delaying for four or even six months before pulling the plug and calling time of death. He was sad, and made some arguments for postponing the breakup – most notably the fact that I’ll be out there for a week over Thanksgiving – but I just can’t do it anymore. I feel like I’m one person who has been trying to live two lives, with one foot in California and one foot in Europe, and I just end up being a soggy mess stranded somewhere in the Atlantic. One of the reasons it’s been difficult adjusting to life here is that my attention has been divided, and if I’m going to have any chance of assimilating and adapting, I need to live this life that is going on here and now.

And here's what's going on here and now.

(jloo, you’ll appreciate this.)

On Friday, after work, the legal department went out for drinks, and afterwards, my dog and I went to Superman’s place to hang out with him and his dog – just two buddies hanging out after work. We had wine, dinner, port, and got rather ridiculously stoned. We laughed and had disjointed conversations. Neither of us could drive, so I stayed in his guest room. Other than the substance abuse, it could have been a Norman Rockwell American tableau – two people hanging out with their dogs. And it felt so normal. Besides the incessant giggling.

Sunday, a group of us went to lunch and a concert, and afterwards, Superman and I were IMing for a couple of hours as we puttered around our respective dwelling places – many of our conversations happen in the evening over IM, when we’re just chilling at home. Superman has listened to me with unending patience as I complained about things with Apple, difficulties with work, and so on, so I thanked him for being such a good confidante, and he said the same was true from his end. He really has become my closest friend in the area.

I stayed home from work on Monday, because I had a vicious headache and was too dizzy to drive. Superman had a huge deal wrapping up this week (our company settled a big lawsuit with a bunch of publishers), and he was flying out Monday night to go to the closing, so Monday was certainly full of last-minute revisions and edits, but he skipped out of a meeting for two hours to bring me lunch. How nice is that?

The settlement went live on Tuesday, and Superman was in New York with the rest of the project team doing press conferences and so on. They went to dinner and out for drinks, and Superman IMed me from the bar (which happens to be next door to my old apartment building, where FX lives. Too funny.). The evening progressed, and he proceeded to get drunk with the rest of the team, and we were still IMing on and off. Somehow the conversation wandered in various directions, and it came out that we both are harboring a "wicked crush" (his words, he's from Boston) on each other. Oops.

At first, it was amusing, because it snuck up on both of us. We really were just friends, and nothing more, who would hang out occasionally, get drinks with co-workers, and talk about anything from Nixon masks to whether we think we'll ever get married to the scientific reason that mango sorbet doesn't freeze as easily as blueberry sorbet. How could we have been so oblivious, to get blindsided like that?

Amusement aside, what the hell are we supposed to do now? We work five doors down from each other, and we’re both a little bit scared. We laugh at the same things, we can tell each other anything, we finish each other’s sentences, and although you might think that’s a good sign, I’m not sure that it is. I usually make a point of picking people who aren’t perfect matches, because then it’s just something that’s good “for now,” and there is always an end on the horizon. It’s frightening to meet someone that I can’t find any fault with, because, well, that could mean that I’m tied down for a while. Just as I was thinking that, of course, Superman said the same thing. He added that he’s never met anyone like me, that he’s afraid he’ll end up head over heels, and that things were simpler when he thought he was the only one with a crush. Eek. Maybe I'll find a nice, big flaw soon, and then I will be somewhat reassured.

When evaluating men, I usually compare them to FX and 2FX, and they always fall short. It’s a tough benchmark to meet, and I don’t hold it against anyone if they don’t measure up. But it’s somewhat comforting, in a twisted way, because FX and 2FX were both amazing, and they didn’t work out. Anyone who isn’t as good as them isn’t going to work out, either. A nice, safe choice. But Superman, I’m afraid to say, may surpass FX and 2FX. And that is just terrifying.

I once posted a list of ten characteristics of my ideal partner. Before things had gotten complicated, Superman and I were discussing the idea of having a list like that. I showed him the list, and he said he agreed with it, other than the dive-certified part (he’s not a diver). We discussed it a bit, and then went on to other things. I realized, though, that he comes closer to meeting that list than anyone I’ve dated, and when I was thinking that, he said the same thing. OK, this is definitely getting more than just a little bit scary. I've dated a lot. It's one of my favorite hobbies, if you can call it a hobby. So I've been around the block enough times that it takes a lot to impress me this much. There must be something I'm not seeing, something I'm missing, that is horribly wrong with him. Right?

What to do? I just got out of a relationship. Superman is my co-worker. Things are still completely platonic, so we could walk away without incident. At least things are going slowly, for once, so that we don’t make any blind mistakes.

How can something so simple be so complicated?

I'm no longer terrified or even overwhelmed at work, which is both a relief and a disappointment. A relief because, well, it sucked to live in a constant state of fight-or-flight. A disappointment because I had hoped to take longer to get comfortable with my job, because it would imply a longer stretch of having a steep learning curve, meaning more knowledge in less time for me. Also, I tend to do more work (and better work) when I'm running a bit scared. I'm still behind the others, and I'm still learning, but it's much more gradual now, a mental snack here and there, rather than a timed hot dog-eating contest for my brain.

My manager came in today for a quick chat - he checks in with us often to see how we're doing, whether we want more work or less work, whether we like the work we're getting, and so on. It's pretty cool, actually - this is the first job I've had with so much one-on-one time with my manager that is focused on whether I'm getting what I want out of my job. He gave me a sneak preview of my first performance review, which will be formalized next month. He said that I met all expectations and even scored a bit higher than average, which I think is pretty good for a first review, especially given the fact that I was basically crapping my pants for the first two months on the job. I'm curious to see if I do better or worse in the next review. On one hand, I'll have had more experience and a better idea of how to do my job. On the other hand, I've grown more complacent and perhaps less on the ball because of my complacency.

I'm not saying that I'm an expert. Far from it. It's just that I finally know enough about my job and the way things work around here that I can do a reasonable job when work has to be done, but I also know when things can be blown off for a while. This is dangerous knowledge for an expert procrastinator.

***

So... how 'bout that economy? Yeah, it blows. It's pretty crazy, hearing about our peer companies, customers, and rivals, who are all doing pay cuts and layoffs. Scary stuff. No layoffs here - our Q3 earnings reports were solid - but there have been talks of cost-cutting, partly because the economy has jumped off of a cliff, partly to appease the Shareholder Gods, and partly because it would look pretty gauche to not cut costs in such times. It's a new thing, this idea of "cost-cutting." Fewer lavish parties, less international travel, but at least the food is good and we'll still get bonuses. And at least we still have jobs. Law firms are laying off associates, which is pretty shocking. Some law firms have even shut down completely, including the firm where I worked after my first year of law school. You know times are tough when even the fat cat firms are suffering.

And how 'bout that election? In 2000, I thought the system was stupid. In 2004, I decided that my fellow citizens were stupid. If things go wrong again in 2008, I won't know what to think.

***

How do you know where the line is that you shouldn't cross? Some things are pretty clear. Don't kiss another boy. I get that. It's clear.

But what about hanging out with another guy in a purely platonic manner, when he knows that you have a boyfriend, and there is no inappropriate behavior? Or what about planning a trip with this platonic friend? No harm in taking a trip with a friend, right? What if that trip is a 10-day trip? What if it is over Christmas and New Year's? Does that make it worse? But what if it's over Christmas and New Year's because your company holiday schedule is great this year, and neither one of you feels like spending the holidays (which you don't observe, at least in a religious way) with your parental units? Does that make it better? And what if you are considering inviting another friend along, which you clearly wouldn't do if there were anything inappropriate going on? Better, right? But what if your boyfriend is somewhat suspicious of this person, and you secretly think he is pretty cool, although you acknowledge the fact that his coolness is irrelevant? Worse. But then again, the boyfriend could potentially become irrelevant, if things continue the way they're going, right?

I apparently require a certain amount of confusion in my life. As soon as work started to sort itself out, this confusing situation had to develop. No idea how it happened. This coworker (I'll call him Superman, not because he's Superman, but because I mockingly call him Superman due to a long story that's sort of boring) is one of my better friends I've made since moving here. We hang out all the time, and there was 100% nothing confusing about it whatsoever. Superman and I talked, we hung out, we IMed, but there was nothing there. Period. I was completely candid about Apple, and there was no ambiguity. And somehow, things still went from crystal clear to confusing without my even realizing that they had done so until it was too late. But everything is completely proper and appropriate, so maybe I'm just imagining the confusion, or maybe it's only on my end.

On a less confusing and more amusing note, my 23-year-old friend, I'll call him Eyebrows, said something funny to me at lunch the other day. In the middle of an otherwise normal conversation, he leaned in and said, "I don't know how to say this, but... are your boobs bigger today?" I stopped mid-bite and said, "What?!" and looked down. "Stop looking at your boobs!!" "Well, what did you expect me to do after you said that? And no, they're the same as ever." "No way. You started the Pill. Or you switched to a new one." "Nope." "Then you're having your period." Silence. "I knew it!! I knew it!! They *are* bigger, and that's why." He was so pleased with himself. It was worth the embarrassment on my part to have that conversation to laugh about for the rest of the day. He tried to smooth things over by saying, "Don't worry, I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't think they looked nice," but I think that just made it even more embarrassing, haha...

I mentioned before that I started a bi-weekly dinner club, partly to have some friends in the area, and partly to use my kitchen once in a while. It's great having free food at work, but it makes us all lazy, to the point that I don't even have vinegar, salt, flour, milk, or any number of staples.

I started it out as a group of ten people, but it looks like we have a core of about six or seven, which has turned out to be a good number. Unfortunately, we're a bit heavy on lawyers, but that hasn't seemed to deter the two non-legal department people from coming and having a good time.

I hosted the first one, which was a fondue night. The second one was Italian night. The third was Swedish night (which involved fish roe from a tube, and two types of pickled fish, as well as a lot of vodka). This week's theme was white trash, so there were two kinds of cheap beer, malt liquor, Kool-Aid, two kinds of casserole, two kinds of pourable cheese products, and a cake that had jello in it.

All of them have been fun so far, but I'm really looking forward to the next one, which is Boulevard night (named after the restaurant here in the Bay Area - we're making recipes out of the cookbook). Because the recipes are complicated and the ingredients can be a pain to find, Boulevard night will be in three weeks, rather than two, and most people are paired up, so that people don't have to cook solo.

The menu:

Wine
Bread, fruit, and a selection of cheese
Cauliflower soup with Maine lobster
Salt-roasted Bosc pear and Roquefort salad with toasted walnut relish and port vinaigrette
Dungeness crab cakes with asparagus, lemon vinaigrette, and crab salad
Duck breast stuffed with apples and chestnuts roasted in bacon
Bittersweet chocolate cake with caramel corn ice cream and caramel sauce

Not bad, eh? It will be fun to try cooking some real food.

***

Things with Apple have been rough. We are arguing a good deal these days, and I can't stand his style of arguing. He simply isn't logical enough, and if he doesn't agree with you, he will repeatedly restate his opinion with little backup. How is that going to convince me? So then I usually end up telling him to stop, that we should change subjects because we will never agree, and he just continues blundering along the same path until I just cut him off and tell him I have to go do something else. Fantastic.

I have a tendency to think that non-logical people who can't argue productively are not as intelligent, which isn't really fair, since it's clearly a bias in favor of the kind of intelligence that lawyers have, but that's how it is. It drives me crazy when I have to deal with someone who can't make coherent arguments in favor of their position, or logical arguments against the opposing position.

Here's an example that's actually pretty funny:

Yesterday on the phone, Apple claimed that if Obama loses the election, it's because America is racist. I countered that while race could be one factor that would hurt Obama, there are a lot of other reasons why people might choose not to vote for him. Some people care a lot about abortion or taxes or gay rights, and those are issues on which Democrats and Republicans differ. He stubbornly insisted that it would be because Obama is black and America is racist. I countered that his country isn't really the best example of a color-blind, non-racist society, and he got really mad, saying that I was being judgmental. As his proof that his country isn't racist, he stated that he is from that country, and that he isn't racist. In fact, he eats in Chinese restaurants, and even dates an Asian girl!

OK, I don't really think that proves whether he is racist or not, but even if it did, it wouldn't prove whether his country is racist or not. In any case, I was unable to hold my tongue, so I said, "Oh, wow. Sorry you had to take such a big step down." And then he hung up on me. I went back to doing my thing, and within a couple of minutes, he pinged me on IM to tell me that he had hung up on me (which sort of defeats the kind of statement you're trying to make when you hang up on someone), and to say that he normally doesn't hang up on people, but it seemed necessary to make his point.

Right. So, you eat in Chinese restaurants, and date an Asian girl, whom you hang up on, and that proves that your country isn't racist?

All I want is a little bit of logic. Is that so much to ask?

It doesn't help that I've developed a minor and irrelevant coworker crush (do you get those, too?) on the smartest guy I've met in years, and maybe ever. He also happens to have the exact same sense of humor that I do - twisted, sarcastic, and just a little bit evil. But like I said, irrelevant. Apple is still there, and this guy is my coworker. The contrast between the two is just particularly frustrating these days.

It's been a little over four months since I moved to California, and it has not been smooth sailing, as you know. It got really bad for a while, and then I decided that I was going to take matters into my own hands and fix my life. Feeling terrified of my job? Well, I'd just have to learn how to do it, then. Feeling lonely and isolated? Time to make some new friends. Having trouble with Apple? Better find a way to make it work.

With these missions in mind, I set out to fix my life, secure in the knowledge that if I could identify and address the problems, then the skies would clear and all would be well with the world. And it worked - I focused on my missions and saw improvements in each area that needed improvement, and it was heartening. I got better at my job, I had more friends, and things were good with Apple.

And I was happy that I had found a way to fix things.

But for the past couple of weeks, I've had this little niggling thought, a sinking feeling that something was still wrong, that maybe it wasn't my life that was broken, but maybe there was just something inherently wrong with me. And even as things continued to get better, it seemed more and more likely that that was the case.

All these years, I feel like I've had this horribly judgmental, hard to please person who sits right behind my shoulder and watches and comments on everything I do, and that person is me. I have succeeded in everything I really care about, and achieved everything I have really wanted, and still, still, I can hear myself sniping, "Lame. So lame. Not good enough."

I change wardrobes, I change boyfriends, I change jobs, I change cities, I buy books, I get rid of furniture, I start new hobbies, I find new friends, I travel, I drink myself into oblivion, I meditate, I dabble in a bit of everything, I sleep, I stay awake, and still, there I am, never far behind, observing and pronouncing every action and result as not good enough. "So stupid. Why would you do that?"

No matter how far I flee, or how fast I try on new mindsets and psyches, I always catch up to myself, and the whole fight-or-flight debate begins again, and when the enemy is yourself, both options are pretty useless. I am so sick of sharing my life with myself, does that make sense? As long as I am there, nothing will ever be good enough, and that is so damn infuriating. I have a good life these days, and I often enjoy it, but apparently, that isn't good enough, because I still have that creeping sensation, that train of thought, "Don't you see? You're doing it all wrong. Start over."

Things have gotten especially strange lately. This has never happened before, but every morning, I wake up and go to the bathroom, I see myself in the mirror, and I am surprised. Is that really me? I don't recognize myself. I feel like an alien who has just landed in the strange landscape of someone else's life. It looks like a pretty good life, but I wouldn't know, because I'm still trying to get used to these hands, these feet, this voice - are they really mine? I believe so, but if that's the case, then why do they feel so foreign, all of a sudden?

I live this life that feels like it might belong to someone else the same way you might wear a borrowed dress - it may be pretty and you may have good times in it, but you know inside that afterwards, you'll get it cleaned, give it back, and go back to wearing your own comfortable, familiar, everyday clothes. Except that in this case, I will have to keep wearing this fancy dress, and although I seem to be having a good time in it, I'm not sure it's quite appropriate for all occasions?

It's strange - in a usual downturn, I am completely immersed in the thick sludge that is creeping up on me, but these days, I feel so detached from myself, and it sometimes feels like I'm living, no, not even that, it feels like I am watching myself live two lives at the same time. I continue going to work and hanging out with friends, playing with my new car, and I really believe that I'm enjoying myself a lot of the time, but how can these things be going on simultaneously - on one screen, the low-budget horror movie on mute, the black goo slowly taking over, and on the other, a normal sitcom with smiling cast and always-present laugh track? Is that even possible? Does that mean that this isn't a downturn, it's just... a what? A mindwarp into an alternate version of my life? A non-hallucinating hallucination? I don't even know. "Forget about it, you'll never understand it, you idiot. Just keep moving and pretend you know what's going on."

I am in London with Apple now, and it is not going as intended. I had been hesitant for the past few weeks to hint to Apple that all was not well with me, as he has flat-out stated that he can't deal with it when I'm on a downturn - we broke up because he couldn't deal with it before, and he explicitly said that he fell back in love with me because I was happy again. How's that for a steady and dependable kind of love? So I'm afraid I blindsided him with my inner ugly stepsister. Poor Apple doesn't know what to do with me, how to talk to me, what to think of me, and neither do I. I watch him fumbling to find the right words and actions, and I watch myself growing irritated, and I don't know how to fix it and make us the carefree, giggling couple we are supposed to be.

Glug.

I bought a car. I have never owned a car before. Now I have a black Prius. Whoa. I got lost yesterday when I was driving it home from work because I was so distracted by all the buttons and options, and was playing with them without watching where I was going. So I ended up using the GPS to get home. It worked. Go, Prius.

Two days from now, I'll be on a plane to London, where I'll be meeting up with Apple, Kanga, and Roo for a five day visit (as well as catching up with friends who live in London). Yes, I'm flying 11 hours each way, with an 8-hour time difference, for a five day visit. I'm also going to be working while I'm there, so as not to use up vacation days - the jet lag is going to be tough.

The distance is starting to wear on me, although Apple still seems pretty convinced that this is the right thing to do. Maybe it's just been too long since I've seen him, and my faith will be restored once we spend a few days together. It's just hard to think of this as a real relationship, if we only see each other for a few days every month or two. Sigh.

I'm starting to build up a modest social life that is almost entirely comprised of people who work here - not all of them are people with whom I work, but there are a fair number of lawyers in the mix. The people at my company are generally very smart and interesting, and so I really don't mind that my social circle is almost entirely comprised of "coworkers." We're mostly 30-something, educated liberals with a dislike of traditional corporate culture, so that's a good start, right?

Sometimes when I want to escape from the grownups, however, I hang out with a younger group of friends (who also work here, but are only burdened with one degree rather than two). I forgot how much fun people are right out of college. It makes me feel a bit old and musty hanging out with them - dancing and drinking at dive bars and then going out for cheap burgers afterwards - but it's a good way to blow off steam. It's kind of like reliving small pieces of my law school days, but without the law students. I felt simultaneously ancient and flattered when my 23-year-old friend tried to kiss me. Adorable, in the way that a puppy who is still getting used to his feet is adorable.

Unfortunately, I now get hangovers after overindulging, but I haven't yet gotten used to the idea that a hangover might be a consequence of having too much fun. Oh, to be young again...

I'm probably going diving this weekend, and in anticipation of that, I decided to put on my drysuit to make sure the seals were still in working order. If you're not familiar with dive gear, a drysuit looks a bit like an astronaut suit: sort of baggy all over, but with very tight rubber seals at the wrists and neck so that water doesn't get in. You wear a drysuit when the water is too cold to get away with wearing a wetsuit.

In any case, drysuits are hard to get into to begin with, because you really have to cram your hands and head through the seals. Mine is particularly hard to get into, because the zipper runs across the back of my shoulders. Drysuit zippers require considerable force in a very specific direction to zip or unzip, because they're special waterproof zippers, and thus are difficult to deal with. Getting in and out of a back-zip drysuit is generally a two person operation.

But I'm independent!! I'm resourceful!! I'm capable!! I managed to get into my drysuit all by myself, and I was pretty pleased about that as I hopped into the bathtub. The seals worked fine, score another one for the home team. I got out of the bathtub and dripped all over the place, and as I started to overheat, I realized...

...as hard as a drysuit is to get into by yourself, it's even harder to get out of by yourself. And by even harder, I mean impossible.

Crap.

I thought about calling someone to come to my rescue, but I was getting hot, and I didn't think any of my friends would get here in time before I sweated to death. And so I trudged next door, dripping every step of the way, in my drysuit, with no large body of water within miles. I don't even know my neighbors. We've said hi a few times, but I don't know their names. I just know that it's a husband and wife and their youngish daughter and dog.

I was really hoping that the wife would answer the door, because I didn't want to have to ask for her and prolong the ordeal - there was no way I was going to ask the husband to help me out, because I wasn't wearing anything under the drysuit (which I originally thought was smart, since it would minimize overheating, but I guess that a swimsuit would have been a better choice, given how things turned out).

No such luck. He answered the door, and I said, "Um, hi, uh... is your wife home? I, uh, I have a very strange favor to ask." He looked at me quizzically as I stood there dripping on his doormat, and by that point, his wife and daughter had both come to the door to stare at me, and their dog was barking madly in the background. His wife asked what she could do, and so I asked her to come around the corner, away from the door, and then asked her to unzip me. She did so, laughing the whole time. I thanked her and ran home with my tail between my legs.

My neighbors probably think I'm crazy. *sigh*

At least the drysuit works, though.

Everything is relative.

When I was working at a big law firm in New York, we wore true business casual - dress pants, nice shoes, nice shirts, sweaters or blazers, and so on, and we were glad that we didn't have to wear suits to work every day. When I moved to Europe, the NGO where I worked called the dress code business casual, but in reality we wore everything except for jeans, printed t-shirts, shorts, sneakers, and flip-flops, except for on Fridays, when we could dress all the way down, and we were glad we didn't have to wear fancy pants. Now, the legal department where I work also calls the dress code business casual, but we wear everything - jeans, shorts, sneakers, flip-flops, t-shirts, anything goes as long as we don't look like complete bums, and we're glad that we don't have to wear anything different than what we wear on weekends or at home.

The other week, a friend who works at the same company, but primarily with software engineers, commented that coming to our building, which is all lawyers and business people, is strange, because "everyone's wearing pants." She clarified, saying that it isn't that the engineers run around in the nude, it's just that they tend to roll into work in whatever they pick up first - grubby shorts, holey jeans, pajama bottoms - anything goes.

No wonder we make fun of the engineers.

Seesaw, teeter-totter, Apple and I had a little bit of back and forth a few days after the last entry, when we both came down from the post-visit high and realized just how insane this is. But then things reached some sort of equilibrium, and it all became infinitely easier for no apparent reason. In typical male fashion, Apple tends to balk when he thinks he is being restricted or constrained, but when he thinks he is no longer subject to those constraints, he ends up imposing even more onerous burdens on himself without realizing that he would have thought they were onerous.

Case in point - we had been talking very briefly on the phone every day before, but it was difficult to coordinate our schedules, and the calls were short and frustrating for both of us. We decided to call less frequently, maybe once or twice a week, with a longer video chat on the weekend. Once that was decided, Apple started emailing and chatting me frequently, and randomly pinging me to see if I was free to Skype. He started bringing his personal computer on his weekly business trip so that he could Skype from the hotel. He skipped evenings with his colleagues to stay in and chat, almost to the point that I need to cut back, as it's infringing on my schedule. Boys...

We had never pretended that we were going to live Happily Ever After. I'm not sure that I'm the marrying type, and he's not sure that I'm the type he would marry. At most, we only ever thought of having a relationship that would last a few years, as long as it was mutually beneficial. We definitely agreed that neither of us would change our lives for each other - you don't do that for someone you're dating "for now" - as proof, I moved away from him, and he didn't follow. And now we miss each other terribly. He has been saying all along that it would be so great if I would move back and we could continue our lives as they were, and today, he started talking about the possibility of him moving here for a while, just to see what it would be like, which is totally uncharacteristic of him. And I said that it would be wonderful to have him here, which is totally uncharacteristic of me.

Who knows what he's actually thinking - Apple is the kind of person who will blurt out whatever pops into his head, regardless of whether it's a real thought or just a fleeting almost-thought. But what if he was being serious? On one hand, I would love to have him here, and I know that things would be great - all of our difficulties stem from the fact that we are living nine time zones apart. On the other hand, that's a huge responsibility for me - to know that he moved here for me, and to therefore be responsible for whether he thinks the move was worthwhile or not. I've always balked when boyfriends have floated the idea of moving to be where I am or where I am going, but for the first time, I am thinking that in this case, maybe it would be the right thing to do. We're that happy when we're together, that it might just be worth a shot. Knowing him, he will freak out over the fact that he had that thought and voiced it, and we'll end up in another little tailspin. I'm trying not to over-think things, so that I don't send myself into a tailspin of my own. This is what happens when you put two commitment-phobes in a long distance relationship.

Things have been strangely easy between us since the last flip-flop. It's hard to explain, but time is passing more easily, and the distance seems so much smaller. Things were so stressful for the last month or two before he came to visit, that it was like we were in a completely different relationship than the one we had before I moved; now the stress is somehow gone and it's a source of happiness again. It's as if we were going about things completely wrong before, and we've suddenly found the easy way to do things, and it makes a huge difference. I think that he somehow came to terms with the situation and decided that no matter what is going on, the feelings he has are real, and he has apparently decided to just throw himself into it. He explained that for a long time, he wasn't able to really invest himself in the relationship because he knew it was doomed, and that it would end when I left. Then, he said, when he came here, he realized how happy he is when we're together, and he grew to appreciate "us" more. I guess now that he realizes that it hasn't ended, and his feelings have remained, so he might as well try to do it right. Like him, I had been having a lot of doubts, and I am definitely more hesitant than he is, since I was the one more badly hurt over the last few months, but his confidence and sureness in forging on is helping me to have more faith, as well.

I still need to be careful - I won't let myself get as hurt as easily again, but I can't walk away from this, especially now, when we seem to have found a way for things to work, despite the distance. We're meeting up in London for a long weekend in early October, and have been discussing possible plans for November, December, and February, as well. And who knows, maybe things will continue going well, and maybe it will actually be worth discussing whether he should move here for a while. One step at a time, and we'll see where this leads... It could be another losing round of emotional roulette, or it could be something wonderful. I'm hoping for the latter.

***

I'm starting to get a little bit more comfortable at work. I still don't know nearly enough to do my job, but at least I know enough to be able to figure out what I don't know, so that I can ask questions that will get the work done, albeit with tons of assistance. I had a meeting with half a dozen Japanese businessmen on Friday. It was a little bit intimidating, since there were lots of them and one of me, and they were older and wearing suits. I don't know what they think when they show up for a meeting and it's just one 30-year-old in a t-shirt and jeans. But I think I managed to sound like I knew what I was talking about, which is more than I would have dared to hope for two or three months ago. So it took me three months to learn how to fake it, so maybe in another three months, I will actually know how to do it without faking too much...

***

I am still lacking on the social front, but have been making up for it by importing friends for short visits. Five of my friends from college flew in a few weeks ago to hang out with me and another friend who lives in the city, and we spent the weekend catching up, talking, playing games, eating, getting manicures, and just being the same girls we were back in the day. It went well enough that I think we're going to try to make it an annual event with more people.

Kanga was here for a day, which was short but sweet. It has been really strange, living here without her and Roo. I miss all of my friends, but she, Roo, and Apple are the ones who are most noticeably absent from my daily life, since they made up such a big part of my daily life before the move. I wasn't sure if having her here would be strange, a sort of collision of worlds after a long, cold turkey separation, but it wasn't - I should have known better, and it was the same as ever. I love having friends like that. (Speaking of which, my college roommate, jonkettle, sent me a package of things she had been collecting over the past few years, but hadn't sent me, and as always, she did not disappoint in her ability to be randomly amusing. She totally cracks me up.)

Importing friends isn't really a long-term solution, though, so I have made a first step towards getting local ones. I'm starting a dinner club with about ten members. Every other week, one of us will host a dinner, and the others will bring side dishes to accompany the main dish provided by the host. First meeting is next week, and I will be serving fondue, as a nod to my most recent life.

***

Oh, and I got a cleaning lady, and She. Is. Amazing. I will never again go without. So worth it.

***

I have been feeling strangely, dare I say it, happy. I don't know if it's because of the breathing exercises, or that my situation has eased up, or if my pain receptors have become numb to the negative thoughts that were suffocating me, but it's good to feel good. I don't think I've ever had such a fast and inexplicable turnaround before, without meds, even. It's been fast enough that I keep catching myself thinking, "What is this feeling? Oh, I think it might be happiness," because I don't expect it to be there. I'm a bit nervous, because I know that my situation hasn't really changed so drastically, so maybe the darkness will descend again, but for now, I'm happy, and I'm really savoring it.