Life's a walk in the park (Sometimes)

So this one's not so funny. But nice. Just a bunch of things that popped into my head while walking to the park. I know...can't you just take a walk in the park without going all Oprah? I must be hormonal. Cuz I'm ruminating. But not ovulating. (Just in case you were wondering.)

I like to walk to the park near my house, 2-3 times a week. And when I do, I play a little game--I try to notice "what's changed" since the last time I walked. A house painted a new color. Baby ducks! New landscaping. Home up for sale. Tonight I noticed quite a bit. But I couldn't help thinking I was noticing these things, because of where I am in life--not because they were different or new. (see? hormonal.)

First--let's back up the walk a bit. Walk backwards?Because this is what put me in the mood for the "noodle walk." Before hitting the pavement--I went and met a man for a drink. Call it a date if you want. I didn't. Just a nice man from work who asked me out to have a drink. I don't know if I'm attracted to this nice man. But I do know--He's nice, (said that) and I'm intrigued. Seems he had a bad divorce. Has a lovely young daughter. Was in a relationship with a younger woman. And now--says he's "under construction" when it comes to relationships. I love that. The fact that a man is strong enough to say--"hey--I'm learning. I"m building. I'm trying to make myself better when it comes to loving." That takes guts. And an openness I love. We all should be hammering away at that one.

Walking, walking. A house has new scaffolding up. It's under construction too. I laughed at my friend's comment. "Hard hat required." The scaffolding wasn't there Sunday. So this is something new. The house looked perfectly good to me a couple days ago. But looks are deceiving. This I know for sure.  I like walking at this time in the evening. So many couples going for a 7pm stroll after dinner. Tonight it made me smile, instead of the usual lonely, hate you're a couple and I'm not, feeling.

Walking. This time past my old office. Which sits across from the park. I used to love walking to work. Mostly because of the park and the insane shape I was in. But also because of the job. Executive Producer of some pretty fun cable TV shows. I looked up at the window of my office as I walked by. I used to stare out at that tree--often look at the people walking the park. Now I was one of them. I loved that job. I loved how in charge I was. Tonight--I wasn't. Not really. I could see myself in that office--barking out orders and laughing. My Ipod hit a song that was oddly and appropriately timed-- a song by Natalie Merchant--right as my eyes welled up. "But don't cry,  you know the tears will do no good so dry your eyes..." I hate my current job. But she's right. Does no good. (The title of that song is "The Sweet Life"...I thought I had one-- working in that office.)

I thought the sweet life was also the relationship I was in. Earlier this week--I talked to Mr. PP. I know. Again--say what you want. I think we have these moments where we get a flash of what was, and pine away for it. At least I do. And so we talk. Or text. Anyway, we talked about "needing someone." I believe we all need someone--to some degree. We can't exist alone. I look around in the park--and people are together. A big, giant party yelled out as someone opened a gift. "oooooh!!" They have each other. I asked the ex--don't you want someone to help you? Someone to lean on and help share the hard stuff? He blurted out--"No. I don't need anyone. I don't want anyone to help me."

Wow. That keeps floating around my noodle. How much someone hurt him to make him feel that way. (And it wasn't me!) I kept walking. A man fell on the sidewalk ahead. Two people stopped to help him up. They stayed to make sure he was okay. I cared. I stopped to make sure he was fine--even from across the street. He needed someone in that moment. See? We need each other. It's fine to go "jogging" alone, but at some point...

The nice gentleman I had drinks with earlier tonight told me he always hooks up with women who need him too much. He said his upbringing forces him to be there too much. What is that? Guilt? Co-dependency? Maleness? I thought Mr. PP was there for me. I thought he liked that? Maybe I needed him too much. But then--I thought he needed me--to help heal the crap from his divorce. I was wrong. Really wrong. Or just really narcissistic? (me or him?) Doesn't matter now.

That experience aside, I still believe someone will need me. Someday. Because I need someone. A lot of someones. We are a community. What you do--effects others. You can't walk on this planet (or in the park)--and not effect someone else?!! If you don't know need--how do you know care? As I continued my walk--on the way back--I ran into a firetruck and ambulance pulled up to a  house I love on the corner. I stopped. Because I always wave at the elderly woman who lives there. My heart sunk. She's always out on the sidewalk--walking her Jack Russell terrier, tied to her walker. When I go by and I see her, I wave. She waves back every time.  I"m not sure if she thinks I'm someone else--or maybe--hopefully--she's just happy someone notices her. We all need someone to notice us. We need each other. Tonight I hope she has someone, by her side. If the fire truck was there for her.

Walk's over. I'm back home. Glad I went on my park exploration--of what's new--and what's not. Every time I take that walk, I feel better. It's a chance to explore nature--and my thoughts. I guess if P doesn't want to be needed, then I don't want him. I hope he gets his confidence back--and learns to accept help--rather than fighting it off because it makes him feel in control. I'm sure losing a wife--is a sort of out of control that's not easy to come back from. But I sure tried.

Maybe he's under construction too? He had the roof fall in on him...so it's a long and expensive renovation. Me? I've got the blueprints. I patched up the holes in the drywall.  Maybe just a paint job. Maybe a total re-do? Stay tuned. Oh--and next time you go for a walk--see what you can see. (inside and out!)

Press 1 to Pee, Press 2 to...

Yes, I'm going there. And only because this has been bugging me for days and I think I need your input. I promise, this will be quick. Unlike the actual moment which seemed to go on forever. This week--I went into the ladies room at my "McDonald's" job. Big public restroom with multiple stalls. I never strategically pick a stall, however I've noticed a pattern with some at this place. Regardless--as I sat down to relieve myself--I heard a woman's voice in the stall next to me--TALKING ON HER CELL PHONE.

Now I"m sorry. But a bathroom is a room with one purpose. Okay maybe two--uh, if you count fixing your hair. And at work--it's really a fast in/out do your business room right? Apparently not here. As I sat there--I realized I recognized the voice on the cell phone. Great--A woman I manage. So I listened. And sat. I listened. And...COULDN'T PEE. I felt like if I did--I'd be heard on her cell phone conversation. NOT that I knew the person on the other end--and not that I cared if she cared (clearly she didn't since her friend was on the pot too) But still--suddenly my bladder got very shy.

So--and here's the part I"m obsessing over--I said "Gretchen? Are you on your cell phone?!!" Silence. From all the stalls. Not even a courtesy flush to hide my strange inquisition. Finally I gave up. Washed up. And left. Quickly, so no one could see who was the culprit to call out the caller. The rest of the day, I felt bad. I avoided Gretchen. Why? I don't know. So help me please. What would you have done? Keep quiet? Ignore it? Whistle? But seriously--IS NOTHING SACRED from the cell? Good lord--what if I had to do #2? (sorry)

I felt compelled--and a bit scared--that maybe I was the outsider who DOESN'T talk on her cell phone in the restroom--so I emailed Gretchen. "I hope I didn't embarrass you in the ladies room...just surprised to hear someone talking in there." God. I made it worse didn't I? She emailed back--"not to worry--someone died and I was counseling a friend." (While she was peeing mind you.) AHHHHHHH. That makes it better. I should have peed. Or farted loudly as they cried about a death.

I think I'm working in a place where everyone feels so comfortable--it's like they forget they're not at home. You know--sometimes people talk in the theater because they forget they're not sitting in front of their Blu-ray player on their couch? There's even a dedicated stall in this work toilet room for "Long termers"--complete with newspapers and magazines. It's the stall at the very end. And is always booked with someone wearing sensible shoes.

I'm trying to learn from this work experience. Try the end stall. Be an empathetic manager. These people are good people--Work just isn't #1 on the list--neither, apparently is urinating.  I suppose it's a good lesson to learn. But I"m getting nervous. I haven't been finding anything in my field of television--and I"m scared I'm going to have to be a spokesperson for the rest of my life. And start wearing sensible state worker shoes? I almost cried this week, when a talk show I contract for contacted me and asked "Are you on board for Season 9?" I yelled out loud in my office--"GOD BLESS DR. PHIL!" Let me go interview crazy people who are addicted to talking on their cell phones in public restrooms...just don't make me manage them anymore.

Sadly, this job would have been perfect for the relationship with Mr.--sorry--PP. Leave at 5. No homework. No worries. My stressful TV gig kinda put too much stress on the guy gig too. I've thought about that a lot since the bathroom situation...would it be easier to find another dude right now--than find another job? Maybe. I sort of miss being in love. That feeling for schwa, takes your mind off the little things. Like this bizzaro-world bathroom and the creatures that inhabit it. Thanks Gretchen. Your gonna force me into online dating aren't you? (Insert toilet flush here)