And lead me not into temptation...

I must be bored... I have this overwhelming desire to look up my ex's current girlfriend on Facebook. I will confess to have done this a few times after everything crumbled between us. I needed to gather information, to verify my own thoughts and suspicions. I was given peace of mind in a strange way - at least over time I was. At first it stung, but I knew deep down that I was being strung along. With every post, with every photo comment I knew we were over - forever.

I struggle with myself again...Quickly the walls are crumbling...Don't know if I can turn away

So why am I suddenly feeling the urge to look her up again - to see if they are still together. I have to be bored. These past few days I have felt my ex in my thoughts - one night my thoughts of her were far from fleeting. I even heard myself say aloud, "I miss you Janice." That's the thing - I don't miss her. I truly do not. I'm certain that it is the fact I miss the comfort of having someone else. I miss the warmth in my bed. I miss arms around me. I miss showering someone with flowers, surprise breakfasts or just lying in bed being still, letting the minutes roll by into hours.

I am better off without her in my life. I don't feel the void I originally felt when we first broke up in 2008. I don't feel that ache of, 'what if we never speak again,' anymore when we completely ended in January 2010. It's fine by me if we don't. If I were to run into her, I'm sure I would be nervous as to how strong I could be. She did manage to have a hold on me, she could just look at me and I knew I was locked in. Doomed.

You might have your reasons, but you will never have my rhyme. And if I'm forced to find another, I hope she looks like you and she's nicer too.

There's a pretty incredible feeling running through me at this very moment, with this simple writing - these brief thoughts, I am lifted - I am encouraged and assured that I do not need to give into temptation. My life story is always evolving, my heart is open - my mind may get cloudy and feel as if the rain might not cease, but I know better. Leave it to writing to bring my feet back onto the ground. I'm sure I will relapse, but I will liken it to curiosity. Human instinct if you will. Soon enough I will be running around with much on my mind, much to distract me even further. It's only natural, it's part of life.

It's almost like battling an addiction. Being on the cusp of caving but trusting yourself enough not to give in. If you can't trust yourself, then you reach out to a friend, your sponsor if you will. Though the important thing is to never doubt the strength that resides within you. So very strong.

Convert me if you dare

With every passing day I feel an overwhelming sense of comfort in my sexuality and coming out to people. I don't feel the need to shout it from the highest point - I just feel comfortable enough within myself to say it's ok to be who I am. As my luck would have it, the people I elect to come out to sometimes tend to push the envelope. Push the needle too far if. Enough is enough.

What is it with men and their mindset when it comes to lesbians? Why do they automatically assume that two women will want a man to partake in their most private of moments? Why do they feel that women need an extra hand? Is it because their manhood has been threatened? Is it because they truly believe that women need that extra hand? Whatever it is, it is a bunch of crap. Two women are more than capable of satisfying each other - fully, I might add. Suck it up boys and realize we don't need you.

When I have confronted some of these men on their mindset, they instantly become defensive. They insist they were only joking, that it was all in good fun. Yep, sure - keep telling yourself that, I say to them. They instantly retract with, 'I'm serious. But can I watch?' Really boys? If you were trying to lure me back to your "team" - this certainly isn't the way. I don't foresee it happening anytime soon. And with your actions, your time isn't coming at all. So go cry yourself into a corner and find some serenity - because in the words of P!nk, it's just you and your hand tonight.

Of course then one deals with the reaction that is almost expected when you identify yourself as gay. It's similar to, 'you must need a hand in the bedroom.' or, 'if you won't let me assist you ladies, where might I be able to sit and record this moment in time.' It's mixed in with the male attitude of 'well, you just haven't fully experienced all that a man can offer you, so you can't truly, officially be a lesbian.' I wish I could say I am joking with all these interactions; but sadly as I have grown older and come out to more people, especially men - these are the thoughts running through their heads and to be blunt, their genitals.

I can see it now - these poor pathetic men, sitting quietly (some not so quietly) staring a porno most likely, where it's driven by the male fantasy and male hormonal mindset and parts - thinking that all these women need is a little spice. Sorry boys, we don't need you. We're women, we're creative, we're sassy, we're classy - we're capable. So close your mouths, shut off your dirty porno mind, quit your whining - it's not going to happen.

Get Dirty

Covert Affairs is a fun summer television show that I have grown to look forward to watching every Tuesday night at 10. Last night I nearly backed out due to the cold I have been battling these last few days. But of course the thought of seeing Piper Pierbo hustling after criminals in a suit and stilettos managed to lure me in - and it proved, once again to be well worth the later bedtime.

Piper's character is about 28-30 years old, new to the CIA - actually, she moves up to special operations within days of her arrival at training due to "an extreme need" for someone of her qualifications and zeal for the job. Instantly thrust into this new lifestyle set in our nation's capital - Annie Walker (Piper's character), is left little time to think - she must act on behalf of the greater good. Yet with each episode, we learn a bit more about Annie and her past, her present and what she might feel like she's missing out on in the future. Piper's always been a favorite actress of mine - while she may not fully capture my attention the way a Meryl Streep does (and who truly can - because Meryl is legendary); or make my heart swoon like Rachel McAdams or Keira Knightley does; Piper's acting is sincere, it's genuine. For me, watching Piper is almost like watching a friend figure her way out of a problem - puzzlement, yet enjoying the challenge. Or when she's trying to talk about something that is gnawing at her, there's a realness to her that most actresses of her age and a bit younger seem to lack.

Last night's episode had Annie struggling with trying to get information out of a former CIA operative. She didn't like the idea of using the man to get what she needed from in order to potentially solve her case. It didn't seem clean. Annie talked to a former director of the CIA over scotch and he simply stated to her that everyone plays in the mud in this business. Annie's expression said it all. She didn't know if playing in the mud was worth it, to lose her inner compass, her essence.

Sometimes in journalism, to get what we need, we must take the next step - it may not always be legit, it may dance on the cusp of being unethical - some choose to ignore their moral compass, the ethics they were taught in school - the basic principals of the industry. Fair and balanced television stations scream. Welcome to the mud slinging.

Both these professions have an allure, a mystique - a sexiness if you will. Glamor. When talked about, the response from outsiders is generally the same - "you have the coolest job!" "what's it like working with celebrities?" etc. Push someone in either of these industries enough and you will learn it is far from glamorous; it is not anywhere near sexy. In fact, there's a huge part of me that says, "sure, if you hate your family and want a new, uproariously dysfunctional one - then please, take my job".

These professions can be brutally lonely for the single - and perhaps even those married to a partner outside the industry. Or maybe that's where they get their balance - someone who doesn't know anything about the industry, someone who does not care - someone they can come home to after a long day and talk about something drastically different. But when you are single in these professions and you see friends and family members settled or beginning to lay the foundation for their stability, there's a part of you that cannot help but think when that might come for you. If not now, when; if ever?

So I ask myself how dirty do I want to get in the broadcast journalism industry. How much mud do I want to sling to get what it is I think I want in life? How long do I continue to question my passion without simply just throwing my hands in the air and saying, this is the path designed for me? And that's just it - it's about ME. Not the guy across from me in the viewing room; not the girl who answers the phone with that obnoxious drawl. We may talk about how we are a team - a sports network - we must all come together on game day to produce the best product out there (after all, we are the Tiffany network - nothing but the best should come from our trucks, from our studio). But on the off days, on the practice days - it's every man (er, woman) for themselves. It's a dying breed - remembering those who assisted you in your hour, your moment of need and complimenting them in your review. Your career is like a chess match, making your next power move to conquer the board. It's all about you.

Ironic. I have struggled mightily over the years about making myself the focus of practically anything and everything and I managed to enter one of the most ego driven industries known to mankind.

This season at work will be one of lessons and opportunities. I must not back down, I must not shy away - keep pushing the envelope; keep digging a little bit deeper within. It's not about worrying how the guy two cubicles down is over exerting himself for all the wrong reasons. It's about me - it's about the foundation I have laid within my company; it's about the cement that is drying and about the new levels that are being erected.

Building ones career is like building house - there are many levels, additions, demolitions, substitutions, hesitations. You've got to be open in your career - you cannot close a door simply because it doesn't fit within your blueprint. Grab hold of the paintbrush, swing the hammer, sharpen the ax - you're building something and while it may be dirty now, it certainly has the potential to become a masterpiece.

Sweet Intoxication

I have this ability to fall for people who are either not interested in me in the slightest or are completely unattainable. As I grow older, this gets tougher with every rejection. The stinging sensation is just as intense as a jelly fish bite. You can feel your lungs drying up, tightening, your body weakening, your knees buckling. I will always remember my first jelly fish bite and I’ll always remember every rejection.

The latest is Lucy. I refuse to believe Lucy has rejected me and I do not see it as such. Yes, that Lucy from our romantic meeting at the keg in Stamford, Connecticut. Yes, the girl with those piercing, pulsing blue eyes that I can still see at this moment – penetrating my mind and soul. The girl who I barely know, yet want to know everything about. Lucy is the girl who allowed me to believe in the beauty of silence during intimate moments. The girl who kept me silent in the most intimate of moments. I find this almost unbelievable in that we knew each other for a matter of hours.

With a tilt of her head, that slight, daring smile and rich blue eyes – I become hooked. Zoned in. Locked in. Lucy just exudes beauty. A beauty I haven’t seen in another. I liken her to sweet intoxication. She is best enjoyed slowly, intensely, passionately, you take her in with ease – you want her to last for an eternity. Let the sensations flow through you like a steady stream. The taste will hit every sense, every nerve - it will trigger feelings you never thought could exist.

Lucy invited me out to Connecticut this past weekend to meet up with her and some of her friends that I have become friends with as well. At first I was hesitant due to the distance and not quite sure as to where I would stay. A part of me silently hoped she would say, ‘with me, of course’. But the other part of me knew better. Sure, we have been exchanging e-mails and texts since our meeting at the end of June – revealing inner thoughts; yet not going too deep. Over the last few months, I have struggled with opening up to women. In the past, I may have been guarded, but I let some in. These last few months I have let a select few in and the more I have been doing that, the more vulnerable I feel. Only natural I suppose. I am choosing to let them in, but there’s a part of me that says, why let someone in on your hopes, fears, past – anything most sacred to you, if you are not going to be nurtured or cared for by them.

I ventured out to Connecticut to meet Lucy and it was worth the journey; though I have learned she now is seeing the guy that stood at the keg with us as we had our first interaction. I shouldn't be surprised, but why does it hurt so much? I have since learned that Lucy spoke endlessly about me before my arrival at the bar and was hard to silence when she headed home with a friend of hers. "She glowed and gushed when talking about you." I was told. Therefore, how does one not get wrapped up in the thought of potential when hearing something like this, this burning intensity?

In certain moments of my day I can recapture a few exchanges between us at our second meeting. All of them involve smiling of course. One has us sitting on opposite ends of the table at the bar - engrossed in the conversation going on amongst all surrounding us. Naturally, I felt compelled to steal a glance at the woman who truly takes my breath away. I can physically feel my lungs tightening, like air being let out of an air mattress. Within the tightness, there's an overwhelming desire to return to some of the moments from the day we first met. In my first entry about Lucy I wrote about the powerful stillness between us, that was coupled by a heavy, albeit very enjoyable silence. I want that back. I want our bodies to gently rest upon each others; I want to touch her rosy cheeks with a gentle graze of my fingers; I want us to dare each other to move, to break the silence with a cautious, yet inviting laugh; or for our eyes to focus in on one another - only trying to figure out who might make the first move. My lips begin to soften, my mouth turns drys. I look at her calmly, silently hoping she will turn her glance my way. Just one look...

My wish is granted. I manage a cool, warm smile despite the intensity felt within my own soul. A smile is returned - it holds a bit of seduction with it and so, I tilt my head while I smile a bit more seductively. I might have winked. My actions are mimicked.

At this moment an ocean separates us and the void within me, while not vast, is certainly present. There is much unknown, but I long for it to become known. I have met Lucy twice and I cannot wait to see her again - whenever that may be. When she returns, two states will be between us - as will that boyfriend. I can see the heads shaking. I can even hear a small, barely audible voice telling me to walk away. If only it were that simple. Some people can walk away with ease. I am not one of those people, nor will ever be. My mind races with excitement when I think about seeing her again. A coy smile spreads across my face when I think about how happy she was to see me - how her arms just seemed to fall around me; how melted together just like the first time we met, 'I'm so glad you could make it.' She spoke warmly, sincerely.

Lucy has me thirsty for more. I walk with a stumble when I think about her; my words fumble when I talk about her; she is my sweet intoxication.

I would love to see you ..I wonder if you know that you and I, could lose control Let's walk, Let's race, Let's ride, the flow, girl let down your hair...