Tag Archives: Overthinking

Packing for a Trip


I had a few days before I was supposed to leave and every one kept asking if I was ready to go.


I am not one of those people that packs a week in advance.
I am a night before kind of girl.

Granted, TWO nights before my trip I pulled out my suitcase and made sure to pack my bathing suit.

Then it was upon me: the night before my trip.
It was time to pack.

And it was time for deep thinking, apparently.

While I looked at my suitcase that had only my my bathing suit inside, and started thinking about what I wanted to wear while I was in Miami, I realized that I could be whoever I wanted to be while I was there. I could pack the best parts of myself and left behind the worn-out parts. The “ugly” parts.

My empty suitcase continued to amuse me while I wanted for my laundry to finish drying.

So I packed my suitcase full of shoes.

Was this the essence of who I had become?
Fabulous shoes and a love for Miami water?
Night and Day.
Did I really need anything else?

My musings were interrupted by a text message that read: Have a great time! Go be crazy! You deserve it!

Deserve it?
I had earned the right to be irresponsible and wild?
I looked at the impossibly short skirts I had buried in a drawer from a time when I was younger and wilder and irresponsible.
I could take them with. I could be whoever I wanted.

That was the problem, all I wanted to be was the best version of myself.
It seems that the best version of myself included 5.5″ red heels and lots of gold bracelets, but the version also included sneakers and a good book.

I learned that the best version of myself was sassy and sophisticated and practical… to a point.

I packed my hopes and expectations into my suitcase, slept for an hour or two, and then proceeded to get dressed and get ready for whatever the next 6 days would bring.


¿Y Ahora Qué?


I was dying to go dancing.
I knew where I wanted to go, but it was just far enough that just going and hoping to find people to dance with was not necessarily something I wanted to risk.
On the other hand, I knew there would be a live band and I knew some “friends” (SEE: Exs) would be playing so it’s not exactly like I would be ALONE alone.

I asked a friend, but he couldn’t come.
I asked a buddy I knew was there all the time, but he wasn’t going.

So I went alone.

When I walked in, my attention was immediately captured by a dancer I’d never seen before. And I decided I would dance with him before the night was over.

I found my “friends” and sat down with them. Of course, they were sitting with the Cuban from a few weeks ago who had proposed to me and his girlfriend. She was so quiet and barely looked me in the eye. I wondered if she hated me under pure suspicion of what had transpired a few weeks ago. Shrugging it off, I sat and chatted happily and then my “friends” got up to play, so I got up to dance.

During the next break, I made my way back to the table and … what was this? The dancer I had lost track of was sitting there! PERFECT!

After being introduced, I found out that not only was The Dancer a Cuban, he was the BEST FRIEND of the Cuban with the girlfriend. Awesome.

My “friends” got up to play again, the Cuban got up to dance with his girlfriend and I was left alone with The Dancer.
That was when The Challenge came up:
The Dancer: You drove 45 minutes for this?!?
Me: Sure, why not?
The Dancer: I would never drive 45 minutes for anything. Especially not this.
Me (to myself): Uh huh, we’ll see about that.
Me (to him): Ok, well, let’s dance.
The Dancer: You’re boyfriend won’t get jealous?
Me: First of all, he’s not my boyfriend. Second, even if he was, no… he likes to share.

Half a dance later…
The Dancer: Ok, maybe I would drive 45 minutes for THIS…
Me (to myself): I win.
Me (to him): Good to know, but don’t get any ideas of driving anytime soon…
The Dancer: How soon is soon? What are you doing tomorrow?
Me: I’m busy. And soon is, at least, March.

The night ended with a text informing me that I had no idea what I was missing, but hopefully I’d be willing to find out soon. If I had a nickel …

My plans for Friday night fell through, right along with my Saturday night plans.
I had been dying to go dancing at a Cuban place in Hollywood and had convinced a buddy of mine to be willing to make the drive with me on Saturday night, but he ended up having to work.

I sent The Dancer a message on Friday night saying that I might be available, but would let him know in an hour.
I admit, my intentions had been less than honorable. I really just wanted to win again. I had no intention of going anywhere Friday night.

He won.
He said he was going to a Cuban place in Hollywood and would love for me to meet him there.
Damn it. I hadn’t planned for that one. It was the one thing I couldn’t say no to.

It was another magic evening.
The girlfriend and her Cuban boyfriend were there and she was suddenly my best friend.
I was being introduced to all kinds of people and everyone found me to be the amazing person I am.

The Dancer and I danced and talked and it was great.
And the more we talked, the more amazing it was.
He even said that wonderfully cliché line of: Where have you been hiding all this time?

So I was winning, until he answered his own question and things took a turn for the worse: That’s right, you’ve been behind a cloud of darkness.
Me: Excuse me?
The Dancer: Don’t try to tell me there was nothing going on between you and that negro last night. [Negro as in the Spanish word for “black.”]
Me: Well, not last night, but once upon a time, sure. That was years ago, though.
The Dancer: How could you do that? You are so much better than that. Don’t tell me you’re actually attracted to negros?
Me: Seriously?
The Dancer: I’m sorry, but I don’t eat where a negro has eaten. I’m giving you this one chance because there’s just something about you, but consider yourself SUPER lucky!

I was instructed to text when I got home safely and that he would call me the next day, which surprised me since he didn’t seem to be able to get past my past.

And I guess he didn’t have the guts to tell me that to my face, because he never did call…

I can’t help but go back and forth between feeling irritated at such stupidity and totally ashamed of my choices from 5 years ago.

¿Y ahora qué?
So, now what?

What Was I Thinking?


I have been practicing my timbales.

I’ve had a 30-minute lesson every week for a month now.

Every week I ask my instructor to be honest with me and tell me if I really suck because if I am no good, I’d rather go find an instrument I AM good at. If I ever let anyone watch me play, I want them to think, “Wow. She was definitely created to play that.”

Tonight his face said way more than his words.

Him: You’re doing good. You’re familiar with the music and rhythms already because you’re a dancer and you’re not a little kid so I can just tell you want you need to fix and work on… I’m cutting you some slack because I know you don’t have your own set of timbales at home, but you really should get a set and start practicing. Every day. AT LEAST 20 minutes. Even if you’re just messing around on them and not practicing the patterns I’m teaching you.

But his face said: Dude, you really need to keep practicing because … yeah, you’re not doing very well.


What was I thinking? Sure, I’m Cuban, but (as some people won’t let me forget) only 1/2. And it feels like my white girl 1/2 is trying to sabotage me.

Of course, I found a set of timbales on Craig’s List and plan on buying them and practicing.

I’m giving myself to the end of the year… (Ok, maybe to the end of January) and then I’ll really decide “si tengo sentido” for this or not.

Are You Bored With Me?


We barely spoke over the course of the week.
I invited myself over (and earlier than usual) on Sunday. *Translation: He didn’t ask to see me*
Logic would state that him accepting my invitation means he is not bored, BUT … those of us high-level over-thinkers know that he could just be being polite and still be bored.

So the question was plaguing me the whole drive up.
The whole walk up the stairs.
The whole time he was telling me about his week.
The whole time he was making coffee.
The whole time we sat outside.
The whole time he was in the shower.
The whole time we… ok, not THAT whole time. 😉

My sensors were kicked into high-gear and I kept looking for an opportune moment to casually drop the question, to no avail. The brief moment I had a chance to ask was so brief was so brief it was gone before I even blinked.

All visible signs pointed to, “No, of course I’m not bored.”
And that’s when my decoder went off: **His week was impossible! On top of how hard things already are for him … nope, not bored!**

(I still want to ask, though.)

How Does He Know?


I’m anxious.


My inner chick is getting the best of me.

I start to think, “What’s the point? He’s just not that into me. Does he ever pay me a compliment? No. It’s just that tough joking and maybe I’m just not tough enough… He probably doesn’t even like me. I’m sure he’s getting bored with me and …” You get the gist of it.

I invite myself over all the while thinking, “This is probably the last time since I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t even like me all that much and can’t even tell me I’m cute because I AM cute.”

Of course, if one expects to be called “cute” then one should dress accordingly. If we are constantly in sweats, even if we look cute in them, can we really expect people to compliment us on our sweats? I think not.

At the same time, if we know the plan is to curl up on the couch and watch tv, something nearly as comfortable as sweats is definitely preferable.

Enter long white flowing skirt, black t-shirt, and flip flops.
The real key to making this outfit (or any outfit, really) work is accesories.
Bangles are so “a la Cubana” it’s almost a sin to not wear them. On the right hand. And hoop earrings.
That’s all you really need and BAM!
“Honey, you look really cute today! Very Cubana, especially with the bracelets.”

How did he know exactly what I needed to hear from him without my telling him?
Because he’s kind of smart and he must like me more than I think.

Accidentally on Purpose?


Me: I ate too much tonight. 😦 And what really sucks is that I’m skipping the gym tomorrow because I’m having dinner with Simon. He went out with that one chick again and has to tell me about it.
Him: Hun, you should really think about going to the gym. Keep your goal in sight! Skipping the gym for some story? REALLY? You think that’s worth it?

So I rescheduled dinner with Simon and went to the gym instead.
Him: I wasn’t trying to make you cancel your plans …
Me: I know.

About a week later…
Me: I ate a LOT at lunch today. Some random FB saw me, but didn’t say, “Hi” because we’re not friends in real life and he didn’t want to freak me out. I guess he goes there every week.
Him: You know, sweets, you could start taking your lunch. That way you could watch what you’re eating and save money.

Hmmm, two nifty solutions that both seem to also involve eliminating “potential threats.”
I bet he doesn’t even realize he likes me that much. 🙂