Which is why it's probably a very good thing I don't have one

I learned a new term yesterday morning: plantation shutters.

Maybe the rest of you knew this already. They're inside shutters, and they're what Nick has on the windows. They do a great job of keeping out noise and light, and you can turn the slats to let in or keep out just the right amount of light. They're nice.

Anyway, yesterday Nick was opening the slats to let light in, and I suggested that he stick his penis between them. You know, just so it could peer out into the day.

Hello, sunshine!

He looked at me like I had a head injury.

"C'mon! If I had a penis, I totally would."

"You'd stick your penis through the shutter slats?"

"Absolutely!"

"Why?"

"Just out of curiosity. In fact, if I had a penis, I'm sure I'd be tempted to see if it fit in a lot of random places. I'd probably constantly be sticking it in things."

You know I would. In fact, I'd probably clamp something on it. Because I am kind of compulsive like that.

"In fact, I think I'm going to blog about this."

He looked a little pained, and walked into the kitchen.

A few minutes later he returned and said, "You know, I am going to stop suggesting blog topics for you. Because I suggest perfectly funny topics. And what you want to write about is where you'd stick your penis if you had one."

"Yes."

"I'd ask you to reconsider. People are going to think there's something very wrong with you."

So now you know: It's Friday, and there's something very wrong with me.

The trouble with having done a lot of dating in one place

Until not that long ago, whenever I saw a man who looked familiar, I would automatically flinch and think, "Coffee? Drinks? Dinner? Did I kiss him?"

I ran though this mental list with one guy who clearly knew me, and said hello in a very friendly manner. I said hello while wildly flipping through my mental images all, "Crap crap crap! I can't remember going out with him!"

And then he mentioned a good friend of mine, and I realized with relief! that I knew him because he dated her years ago.

Because while I was in mega-dating mode, I had so many first dates crammed in that at first glance a few months later, I wouldn't necessarily remember who the person was.

It was a lot lot lot of guys.

On the one hand, this approach is practical, in that it is, to some extent, a numbers game. (It being the meeting of the Love of Your Life, The One, the One of 26, your Soul Mate, or however you think about it.) Eventually you will meet the person. You just will.

On the other, it's exhausting. And it means that you could run into someone you've gone on at least one date with anywhere.

Including your own office building.

I've run into this fellow twice now. The first time we passed each other, I could read the "How do I know her?" look on his face. And I know I had the same one on mine. It wasn't until I'd opened the door to the building that it dawned on me.

We went out a few times a couple years ago. He is cute, and always, as far as my data points show, impeccably dressed. Which is not about anything, but is something I find impressive. And something we do not have in common.

We had two nice enough dates and then an awkward third, in which the fact that we had no real chemistry became apparent. It ended with a super awkward kiss. Somehow, he clenched all the muscles around his mouth, so his lips were in a very tight O.

O.

????

And that was that.

The next time he suggested we do something, I sent a nice note saying thanks, but I just don't see this going anywhere. And that was that.

And so the other day I figured out who he was, and went on with my day. I ran into him again early this week.

Me, I had my unwashed hair all pulled back. And no makeup. And commuter sneaks on. I was carrying an enormous sheet cake into the building. Tej had picked it up for our monthly office birthdays, but she is hugely preg, and needed help carrying it in.

So we passed the guy. Neither he nor I said hello, or, beyond the eye dart, even acted like we recognized each other.

Tej and I got into the elevator, and I was leaning across the cake, mouth open, just about to tell her about the fellow we had just passed. When a third person got on the elevator. And pushed the 12 button.

I cannot say for sure, because to be honest I was very drunk at the time and it was last year, but I got all hair stand on end chilly with this near-certainty that it was Mr. Butternose.

And so I stood there with a frozen flinchy grin on my face, maintaining eye contact with Tejal across the elevator. While subtly darting my eyes toward our fellow passenger. Furtively, of course, so he wouldn't notice. But I really wanted her to get a good look at him.

Finally, finally we got to our floor, and as soon as the doors slid shut, I asked her. She doesn't remember what the guy looked like. So, it might be him, but it might not.

I really think it was. The fellow, he fit my vague recollection of the guy from that night. And he was going to the right floor.

But he didn't fidget, or give any outward appearance of having any bad memories associated with either of us. And with the pulled-back hair and ridiculous outfit, maybe he didn't even recognize me.

However, the truth is, if it was him, and he remembered me, and saw me with an enormous sheet cake worth of frosting...he took an approach that I'd have taken in his position.

This is the one that apparently works if you're trapped near hippos (which, as I like to remind people, are fast and mean and can turn on a dime).

Remain calm, remain still. No sudden movements. Best case scenario, they won't notice you.

Venn Diagrams, hope, stress, and more hope

If my life were a yellow circle on a Venn Diagram, and what I'm about to write about were a blue circle, there would currently be entire overlap. Which is then maybe no longer a Venn Diagram? Maybe it's just a big green circle?

Anyway, it's like the TV constantly playing in the background while everything else is going on.

A couple years ago a friend said that it really annoys him when people say they're trying to get pregnant.

"Trying? What's with the trying? Why do people say this? Why don't they just say 'we're having sex all the time!'?!"

I agreed.

"And anyway," he added, "why tell me you're trying to get pregnant?"

Again, I agreed. Why tell me? Especially because I was single. Who wants to hear about other people having sex all the time?

And now I know. While I'm not running around all "We're trying!" wink wink!, I realize now it's not about sharing the trying. It's about sharing the hoping.

The trying is not what consumes your time and energy. It's the hoping. This hoping now takes up every minute of every day.

To be frank with you, though I'm posting this in cyberspace, I'm not saying anything in my office when people ask. And as soon as we came back from our honeymoon, people - even office people I'm not close to - started asking. Point blank.

There has been a lot of asking.

And I'm not saying anything. Because it's one thing to blog about this, and quite another to have people you see day-to-day wondering about your particulars. You know?

Because sure, I'm hoping. We're hoping. We're all hoping - Nick and I, my parents, my close friends, Maude's parents, probably other friends of my parents. We're a big hope factory. Hope! Hope that one of these days soon Lisa gets knocked up!

Which seems a weird thing to have a group hope about. But who would ever turn away offered hope?

Actually, Betty hates when I put it that way. Like "sucks ass" she hates "knocked up." But she's hoping for the same outcome, with different wording.

And at the same time, I'm wondering. I'm fretting. It stresses me out.

I spent my fertile 20s being very responsible and making every attempt not to get pregnant. Same with most of my 30s. And here I am, 39, with no idea if I actually can.

I find it very very stressful.

So now you know we are not only lame tourists, but terrible people

Nick and I are bad tourists.

What I mean is this. We had a number of things we really wanted to see - we took the above photo at the Topkapi palace, which was amazing - but we didn't pack our days seeing stuff. We did a lot of drinking of Efes beer and wandering and whatnot.

And then when we were sightseeing, we'd get distracted.

For example, we spent a whole 20 minutes following this Japanese couple around. Because they had a camera on a stick.

It was really compelling.

They had this pole that was maybe four feet long. And they could perch the camera on the end, pose, and then push a button to take their picture. Ingenious! Self-picture taking without the stretched out arm and awkward contortion because of it!

We saw them do it, but didn't move fast enough to get our camera out.

And so we wasted the next 20 minutes hoping they'd whip it out again. We'd follow them and then when they stopped, we'd take out our camera and say things like, "Oh! This is so beautiful! I definitely have to get a picture of this!"

In case they didn't speak English, we made sure to sound really excited. "Oh! Let's take one of both of us!"

To no avail.

I am still sorry we don't have a picture of them.

And then! Mere hours later! We spotted the woman above. We weren't following her and her family at first, but we kept running into them. And started referring to her as the New Jersey Turkish Woman.

(Apologies to my friends from New Jersey. None of the NJ women I currently know would dress in sequins and sparkly pointy boots and such.)

We took her picture because, well, partly because we missed the Camera on a Stick people. But also because while we saw a number of women with head scarves, she was the sparkliest. Not the least modestly dressed - because we saw a lot of women with tight clothing, wearing nothing to suggest they were in a Muslim country.

But she, she was fully covered, modestly dressed, but still expressing her individuality. Out of deference and caution, we only took a picture from the back. But there was a lot lot lot of bling and decoration. Sequins down the front! Sequins on the scarf! And pointy boots! With more sequins!

We loved it. I wanted to get a better shot of the boots, but we had to be really furtive about this.

See what terrible people we are?

So far, so good

Today we successfully arrive at one month of married bliss.

Also, pretty soon we'll have known each other a year. Ha.

We got to Dulles super early when we left for our honeymoon. It was a United/Lufthansa codeshare, and we asked if we could get an upgrade. Which, at least historically, was not a problem on United. We figured we'd use miles. Or money. Or whatever.

And the Lufthansa woman said there was no way to do it. We should've applied two weeks prior. But she'd see if they could give us a courtesy upgrade.

We asked if the fact that we were on our honeymoon helped.

Nick was all, "We really did just get married on Saturday! Want to see pictures?"

We had Nick's BlackBerry with us, and that morning people had emailed us a few photos, most notably the one above. Which was taken by a guest and is one of my absolute favorites.

He was dying to show them to someone.

And really, what is a woman behind a counter going to say when such an enthusiastic guy beams at her and offers her pictures?

She looked at the pictures appreciatively.

And then we waited.

Of course we were still reliving all the tiny moments in the wedding. So then we sat in the waiting area, huddled over his little screen, all ooey gooey.

Then we waited some more. Was this a good sign? A bad one?

I looked up from scrolling through pictures and said, "I sure hope this works out."

(Thinking, crap, it's a long flight to Germany with a man who is going to take up part of my seat.)

He took my face in his hands.

"I'm absolutely sure it will."

(I love this confidence! In the face of complete uncertainty!)

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just know."

"But how do you know?"

(Me, I have no faith in airlines. Even good ones.)

"I just have complete certainty. I know how much I love you. And I know how well we communicate. And..."

"Oh, sweetie. I meant the upgrade."

"Oh. That. I give that 50/50."