Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Let's mark this day with a cocktail

I realize my posts have become very sporadic and I apologize for the decrease. However, I have a small dilemma of being a pretty private person while also trying to keep you entertained with my escapades. When it was a completely anonymous blog, that worked but as more of you know who I am and who I could at times be writing about, it became more difficult. So, just know that if anything humorous or newsworthy happens, I’ll let you in on it…in time.


As someone who has been very fortunate to have lived a very happy life, I haven’t had to recognize many sad anniversaries. I think about my grandparents on their birthdays, and will think about the miscarriages I have had but don’t have days that mark a tragedy. Except for one. And, really, it isn’t a tragedy, but 3 years after my move from Alex’s house, this weekend still marks an anniversary for me…and one I can’t help but think about. And, that pisses me off!

Yes, harsh words from someone who considers “sugar fries” her only swear word. But, I think I am pissed for numerous reasons. One, financially, I’m still struggling to recover from that decision and every month think about how stupid I was…but, hey, it is only money, right?

Second, how is it that 3 years later I still am alone? I realize this isn’t actually a bad thing…and, it is partly by choice. As my dating boss just recently told me, I could have a date any night of the week if I really wanted it…but is that what I’m looking for? No!! I want someone who gets me, understands what I need and wants me in my life…like a lot!

And, finally, and this is the one that probably makes me madder than anything else, I realize that I was forever changed by my time with Alex. Yes, every situation we are in, every relationship we have, leaves a small mark on us but this relationship completely changed my love armor. I used to be tough, walls taller than that famous one in China and truly, I didn’t worry if someone was going to break my heart because I never stuck around long enough for it to happen. That person has been replaced by someone whose skin isn’t as thick, who has long bouts of insecurity and can’t seem to find body armor that covers her heart. And, I have to tell you, that really bugs me! Yes, it is probably good to feel and not be heartless where men are concerned but not if it means I can get hurt, right? I felt fine being the love em and leave em kind of gal before! (okay, maybe my therapy bill was much higher then but my wine bill was less!)

Don’t worry, I’m not regretting my decision to leave…I swear! I’m just using this anniversary to wonder what is in store for me next…and really, why can’t I just direct it to be exactly what I want?

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The world according to Glee....

I realize as one reads this blog, you might start to wonder if all of my pearls of wisdom come from same crazy television show geared to appeal to the EMO crowd but I have to say some of the messages actually have merit. And, really, if we think about it, I am willing to bet we could all find something in a television show to relate to…it is why we watch them.


I watch Glee…I admit it. I watch it, I love it, I cry, I laugh and every once in a while I even miss high school…not often but sometimes. I miss the football games. I miss my BFF. I miss the pom poms. Wait, this is not about high school!! This was about a much more important thing…Glee! In all honesty, Glee did make me seriously think about choices I have made in my life, and while I try very hard to never regret things I have done as they are all part of who I am today, it is hard to not wonder at the steps that have led me to where I am. And yes, I did get all of this while watching a show that includes a mean aging pregnant cheerleading coach as a character.

Why is it that I had all the patience in the world while I was staying in a relationship where my partner threw things when he was mad, cheated on me openly, would tell me that if I didn’t take care of him someone else would but now that I am ready to move on in my life with someone else, I am the most impatient person in the world? Really?! If I had all the time in the world to waste on someone who truly didn’t appreciate me nor was willing to care about me the way I deserved, why can’t I wait to meet someone who does and will?

Yes, I am an instant gratification kind of gal most of the time…I don’t like lines at Starbucks, will buy the hard bound version of a book I really want and yes, if I am really worried about how a story will end, will read the last page first. Because of these tendencies, I would normally understand my lack of interest in waiting for the right guy to come along but as I was watching Glee with my daughter and she states “Beast needs to leave her mean husband. What is she waiting for?”, I realized I needed to tap into that patience again….and this time for the right reason.

Yes, I’m scared I’m going to end up alone with sweater wearing dogs and talking to the vegetables at Safeway but really, is that a rational fear right now? I’m 43, a little less fluffy than I was 4 months ago, fun, witty and on a good day resemble Elisabeth Shue…so maybe I can be patient a little longer. And, if I start to get antsy, I just need to watch Glee, with my 10 year old daughter and wait for the insight to hit me upside the head.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Stirred...not shaken

When Sean Connery says “Shaken, not stirred” in his oh so sexy brogue, we ladies swoon. A well shaken, well made martini really is just the perfect picture of high class…although I like my class a little dirty so throw in some olives, will you please? Anyhow, that line is definitely one of the most recognizable in movie history. However, I am very pleased to tell you that today “Stirred, not shaken” is much much better.


No, I haven’t taken to drinking my days away with a stiff martini (although that doesn’t sound bad), I’m actually referring to my state of mind after a very interesting day of random texts received. As many of you know, my life has actually been pretty full of sunshine and roses lately (well, really, I’m kind of always happy…like an annoying Barbie doll…just about 5 inches shorter with lots more hips) but truly, I’m just in a good place and enjoying it. Which is why I think I must have been emitting some sort of aura into the air (not pheromones...well…maybe pheromones…yes, I am one of those who has totally been hooked onto the 50 Shades of Grey series…bring on the mommy-porn) as I must have let the universe know I’m happy and could really be thinking about being happy with someone else. That aura traveled and landed in the strangest place…Alex’s phone!!

Yes, Alex! After 6 months I get a completely random text yesterday about mail that was delivered to his house and he was going to put it in the mail to me at work. Now, before you think maybe this is just his way of being nice, remember, I’ve been gone from that house almost 3 years…do you think this is the first time mail has been delivered there? Uh…no! I’m sure that mail just found its way to the trash can. But, now when I actually have goofy smiles thinking about someone else, he decides to get in touch?! And, that was it…just that one 15 word text. And, while I did analyze it and immediately text my dating boss, what I didn’t do is drop the phone or start to shake uncontrollably. No, I actually just texted back my new work address and “thanks”. Check me out with my bad self. Of course, it is almost 24 hours later and I’m still writing you about it but think about the progress I have made. That is what I’m taking from this.

You did notice, right, that I said random texts (plural)?? Yes, also out of the blue I get a text from a newly separated Jersey Shore Chef who was “a mess” because his agent/girlfriend was coming with him to California this summer. Oh…okay…and this is a problem why? I am pretty sure there was no coffee delivery service to his hotel room in my summer plans as soon as I saw the “married” status on his FB page last summer. Guys really are dumb sometimes. If entire middle eastern revolutions can be galvanized through the wonder of Facebook, don’t they think women can use the same technology to find out if a guy is married?! The answer is yes! I replied with a quick “No worries…pretty sure my schedule for that weekend keeps me from the cook off stage anyhow”. Yes, he’ll see me flit across the park, but hey, it sucks to lose.

So, as you can tell, there is a spring in my step, a sass in my swagger and a little more attitude than usual. One could chalk it up the Diet Coke & Hot Tamales I had for lunch but really, I think it is the new/old me here to stay.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Danger...Curves Ahead

I love to drive. I mean it, I think I could have been a race car driver in a past life. But, not one of those who just goes around a track, but instead one like in Europe where they go through mountains. I’m sure there is a word for that type of race but I just can’t think of it right now. Or, I could just have done one of those races in Smoky in the Bandit. Anyhow, my point is, I like to drive. I open up my sun roof, play the music really loud, sing at the top of my lungs and well, drive fast. So, it makes sense that I will use a driving analogy today for my current state of mind.


There have been times in my life where I’ve either owned or just driven a sports car and would find myself looking forward to trips that would take me into the mountains, on curvy roads and would inhale just a little deeper whenever I’d see the “Danger, Curves Ahead” road signs. Those curves are fun, and I’d enjoy navigating my way through the turns and twists at just the right speed…knowing when to take my foot off the gas a little and anticipating when to speed up…ensuring the car was hugging the pavement just so and avoiding unwanted relationships with oncoming traffic. The curves were a nice break from the long straight-aways where, even though I could drive faster, there was no real excitement and I didn’t have to really think about my actions other than to just keep it between the lines. But, the reason those curves were fun was because they were just part of the trip, not the whole journey. I needed the straight-aways to balance out the curves. And, now, in a time of curves ahead, I am glad I’ve had a few years of straight-aways to prepare me.

If you have read this blog at all, you know I am a control freak who has not relinquished control over my heart very often…actually not often at all as many of you can attest and have approached dating very cautiously over the past 3 years. And, while I’m still operating under the yellow flag, I can say I am feeling the adrenaline rush of knowing there are dangerous curves ahead because I think I could really like the hot electrician. I won’t bore you with his many attributes as you’ve read them all before but now I think he is starting to see mine. But, and this is where my anxiety comes in, I am so not in control of this. He doesn’t send me the daily texts (or even weekly) telling me how fabulous I am. He isn’t going to wear his heart on his sleeve. And, he isn’t going to just show me how enamored he is with my charm, my wit and my slightly less fluffy body. And, before you get all worked up wondering why I’m interested then, remember, if he did all of those things I wouldn’t go out with him again. We all know this to be true. I need to not be in the driver’s seat for anything real to work.

I’ve lived the past 3 years in various stages…first stage, start breathing again after leaving Alex, second stage, breathe and take cautious steps forward with my life, third stage, explore what my new world has to offer and enjoy it but don’t let your heart get involved and now, I guess, we may be at stage four. This is the stage where if I want to see if something could be real I need to actually let myself feel and just hope for the best. Yes, I could get hurt again. But, as I said to myself yesterday “I got over Alex. I can get over anything”. So, here I am, strapping on my racing helmet, cranking up the tunes and headed straight for the curves. Gentlemen, start you engines…and wish me luck!

Monday, April 16, 2012

Think like a man

I’ve been surprised by the silly uproar I’ve heard regarding the title of some new movie called “Think Like a Man”. Granted, I think women often get waaaayy to worked up over things that are said and, in this case, I think women are definitely missing the boat. We do need to think more like men because honey, they aren’t going to start thinking like women. Nor would we want them to.


With age comes wisdom (and a whole lot of wrinkles) and after 43 years on this planet, I have at least learned that men seem to have a much healthier view towards relationships with the opposite sex than we do. Well, maybe not healthier but much less stress inducing, jelly bean eating, fretting view. And, personally, I totally get that!

As we all know, I have emotional walls higher than those surrounding Fort Knox and I’ve been working hard on dismantling those or at least de-electrifying them in my quest to not be the crazy dog lady in my old age. I’ve tried the dating scene…and we all know how that has gone. I’m sorry, but if the idea of going out with someone is making my stomach hurt then really, why bother?! I can get a stomach ache from eating too many jelly beans and well, that is just more enjoyable sometimes. So, I’ve stopped beating myself up for not going out with Tony Soprano again and cancelling a date with a local elected official (hello, I married one of those, I don’t need to date another!!). If dating one of them felt right, then I would have gone out with them.

Now, yes, the above paragraph was very chick like which is where my need to think like a man comes in. The Hot Electrician and I had another pretty good concert experience together and the chemistry is definitely there…and I think mutual. But, now, I have to make sure I don’t turn into a phone checking, wondering why he hasn’t called, will I see him again idiot!! I can guarantee he isn’t sitting on his couch at home wondering those same things about me…even if I am all that and a bag of chips! I just don’t think guys are wired that way (well, at least no guy I’d go out with). So, why are we? I want to think like a man this time. It has always been easy for me to think like a man before because I didn’t care as much. With this one, I can honestly say I am interested. It is the first time since I left Alex I can actually say “yeah, wouldn’t mind seeing him more than once…or even twice”. So, that is why I can’t think like a man this time…I care! Darn the luck…caring sucks!

My willpower is pretty strong when it needs to be so I won’t text, won’t call or won’t really even scheme. He is one that could be easily scared away…even if I am awesome. I will just ask for a whole lot of patience, a large bottle of Jack Daniels and every anti-texting trick I have in my arsenal. I think I’m going to need it.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

It isn't necessary to call Dr. Freud

I hate being predictable or stereotypical…it just bugs me. Don’t get me wrong, I like being reliable and dependable (wow, I sound like a Chevy) but I also like to think I’m different than other women and well, almost unique. And, because I refuse to concede that point on all fronts, I will assert that I am different in many ways! But, I have again been reminded recently that in at least one area I am oh so unsurprising! When it comes to dating, I really am all about wanting what I just can’t have. And, oh my, how silly and high school is that?!


Being challenged by being told something is unattainable or out of reach is great motivation if you are training for the Olympics or striving for excellence in your profession or education. In those instances, I love that my stubborn streak comes out and I can kick butt and take names! Unfortunately, my stubbornness isn’t limited to pushing myself behind my limits, but instead tends to flourish when faced with situations which logically I should be handling completely opposite of what I do.

As my posts over the last 2 years have shown, I haven’t been relegated to hang out with Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters with no dates to the ball. I have dated and have dated very nice guys. Nice guys with good jobs, great personalities and not bad to look at. Guys who have all of that and who think I’m actually pretty fabulous. And, herein lies my problem…I don’t want those guys. No, I want the one who doesn’t text or call and who acts like he could take or leave a date with me. Of course, he is also a nice guy, which a great job, fun, hot, strong, witty…okay, okay, you get it…I’m smitten. But, again, why? Is it really just because it is a challenge and the “chase” is so much fun? If that is the case, then I really haven’t grown up or matured and I deserve to be “slushied” in the hallway (you have to watch Glee).

Am I really that text book? Does it really just boil down to me wanting what I technically “can’t have”? (well, not “can’t” since he does text back and did kiss me BUT you know what I mean). I know me, and I know that yes, I need to have the man be in control or I will walk all over him. I’m not proud of that fact but I do know it is just that, a fact. Therefore, I rationalize that I can tell immediately that Tony Soprano who I practically blew off all during lunch last week, would not be good for me. He would let me get away with being way too full of myself and well, we all know how that ends. But, wouldn’t it be nice to feel something for him? He really is a nice guy, has a house in Tahoe, coaches his sons, thinks I’m really fun and attractive…but, it just isn’t there. After our lunch, all I could think was “oh no, what if he tries to kiss me”. Thank goodness, I went for the quick hug and then got out of there.

Again, I rationalize these feelings with the idea that for some reason, there is just something about the hot electrician that keeps me enthralled, intrigued, “in” something so I am going to ratchet up the irresistible factor and tap into whatever patience I have and just try VERY hard to just let what will be will be…with a little help, of course. Hello, this is me we’re talking about!!

Sunday, March 25, 2012

The heart...our strongest muscle

I had an entirely different post I was going to write today about "mean girls" and the inability to ever truly rid your life of them, even after middle school, but after a phone call today, I decided to shelve that one for later.  Unfortunately, as the uncanny knack women have to piss each other off never seems to go away, that post will be relevant whenever I get around to writing it.

Today, instead, will be about the perils of falling in love...again.  No, don't worry, you didn't miss a whirlwind relationship in the week since I posted.  I promise!  And, believe me, my friends who talk to me every day were probably wondering what the heck had happened when I went to Safeway as they know that was about the extent of my excitement this weekend.  No, even though this phone call had nothing to do with me falling in love again, it was a necessary reminder for those of us who have love and lost...and by lost, I mean full on shut out, upset of a loss. It was both a happy glimpse and a poignant glance at the resiliency of the human heart.

During the cross country phone call, while my friend's heart was in the middle of breaking after the end of a relationship, we were both able to find the positive among the tears.  And, while I know several of you want to smack me with my constant silver lining mumbo jumbo (remember my sarcasm overcomes my saccharine laced optimism), it really is true.  She, like many of us, had her heart completely broken several years ago by the man she thought was her forever man and for the longest time was depressed and concerned that she had lost her chance at the plus one forever.  Okay, maybe a bit over-dramatic, but you get my point.  She was content in her life but not truly happy and then she met someone who changed that.

In the beginning she was very guarded and concerned about letting herself really just feel.   But, because I am the queen of dishing out advice I don't ever plan on taking myself, I told her to just enjoy it and let herself be treated with the love and respect she truly deserved.  And, well, she did.  She was in love again...and while, at the back of her mind there was this voice telling her to be careful, she just let herself fall into the feeling.  Unfortunately, as my earlier paragraph shared, this relationship ended and, she is justifiably sad.  But, at the same time, she is proud of herself, and more importantly, freed from the idea that the man that broke her heart all those years ago was her last chance at happiness.  And, if nothing else, that is an incredibly important thing to know.  And, it is important for all of us...me included.

I really have come to the point of knowing I'd say no to Alex if he were to ask me back, because I know I deserve better.  But, even more important, I'm even at the point that I'm willing to risk being hurt again...which, if you know me, is huge for me.  I've had my heart hurt twice in my life, broken once so falling in love is a monumental occasion for me.  But, the most important thing I learned from my time with Alex is that being in love, truly in love, is so much better than playing it safe as I have done most of my life.  Knowing that, and knowing that great rewards come after great risk, means that yes, I meant every word I said to my dear friend/family member earlier.  She will again be willing to risk the tears as that is what makes life worth living.

So, even though my risks are much smaller and include a very planned but oh so spontaneous text later this week, I am getting back out there, and doing it with my arms and heart wide open.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Miss America may have something right...

I’ve never been much of a pageant girl…well, I was in one, once in high school as Miss Junior Class, but that was the extent of my time on the pseudo cat-walk. It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise however, as there really just aren’t that many pageants geared to those of us who are 5’2” and fluffy. What shows those would be…definitely no bathing suit contests, and heels would just be used to make us look normal sized…hmmm…I may be on to something. Anyhow, this weekend found me helping my dear friend/dating coach with the junior princess portion of a local qualifying pageant for Miss California and well, as one could only imagine, I figured there had to be a blog in there somewhere.


Ignoring the inherent issues that are woven into the general concepts of beauty pageants, I actually decided there is some merit to being judged on a select set of categories. I mean, if you really think about it, isn’t that happening already? Aren't we all judged by appearance, behavior, etc...So, why not just own up to it and get a score that enables you to gauge the chance you are going to get that second date or follow up phone call. Granted, I think the categories may be a little different as I judge myself harshly enough in a bathing suit, I don’t need a number score to confirm I could exercise from now until New Year’s and still not have a butt that doesn’t stop when I do.

But, you get my point right? Let’s take this weekend as a perfect example of how my contest meets reality would work. On Friday night, I went to go see Blake Shelton with my dating boss, her husband and the hot electrician…yes, him. We had a great time…dinner, walking to the concert in the rain (which, in reality is nooooooowhere near as romantic as Gene Kelley makes it in the movie) and then singing and laughing to Blake. To a casual observer, we seemed a couple. Now, don’t worry, I’ve seen this movie before remember, so my expectations were and are low. He really is just a very nice guy, not at all bad to look at, who I happen to have a good time with. Now, here is where the pageant rules come in.

As the evening ended, with the good bye kiss and a hug, I’d get a score card with a very easy to understand scoring system. There could be categories (like in a pageant) such as: chemistry (10 pts), sense of humor (10), personality (10), good kisser (10), etc…and then one could assume the closer the score was to 100, the more likely it would be that there would be a date in our future. Do you know how much easier this would make the next day for women? If there was a 70 or below, put that one in the Fun but no cigar column, 75-85, hit or miss depending on his options, 85-100, and well, start shopping for outfit for date number 2. Doesn’t this make sense to you? I, personally, would greatly appreciate the feedback.

Well, since I’m not in charge of the world, this system is not in place so I will continue to live life thinking “Why wouldn’t he want a 2nd or even 3rd date with me? I’m really all that!” and will just assume that we are on the 2 year plan…it took a year from meeting to kiss for the 1st time and then 8 months after that kiss to go out and kiss a second time so really, in 4 months, you should be reading about him again. But, seriously, I do believe once he realizes that I’m not a stalker, text him all the time, clingy, picking out a wedding dress, writing our names in hearts kinda gal, he’ll be very happy he ranked me in the 85-100 category…heck, I’d even go for a 98!

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Gold Star

I know I've compared my journey with Alex to one battling addiction and well, this weekend, I earned whatever the highest chip there is to earn.  If you've read this blog at all, you know I am big on birthdays.  I mean skywriting, fireworks, dancing animal big on birthdays and not just my own. For those in my life, I go pretty nuts and definitely went overboard once or twice in my time with Alex.  Well, yesterday was his birthday and while I thought about him often during the day, not once did I text, Facebook message, email or even send up a silent Happy Birthday to him.  And, for this I earn the gold star.

In my circle of great friends,there is one who says that after 3 weeks you can get over anything.  Well, it has been 3 plus 150+ something since I left Alex and while I am sure I got over him several 3's ago, I do still think about him and getting through his birthday without "making" him think of me with a message of some sort is huge for me.  It means that I am not willing to step backwards nor open myself up to the stomach clenching mess I would be if I did hit send on the text and then wait, forever, for a return response that wasn't coming...or worse yet, did.  This means I really am ready to move forward.  And, well, that is reason to celebrate.  Of course, in my new found fitness regimen, celebrate includes carrots, green peppers and something that doesn't involve refined sugar or alcohol (just on weeknights...weekends, it is all about the Jack, baby...hey, 70 calories!!).

In all honesty, I really am proud of myself. Of course, as a girlfriend and I were discussing earlier, what choice did I have all this time, really?  I am a happy person and one that has a job, kids, dogs, people who rely on me, so curling up into a ball and being sad was never an option.  I knew I was young (well, relatively young...okay, not young, but not old either), not bad to look at and was better off in my new life...even if it hurt.  Pulling the covers over my head and calling it a sick day until I got over Alex wasn't an option and now, almost 3 years later (wait, maybe the magic number is 3 years, not 3 weeks!) I really am a happier, healthier, stronger person.  And, one who will be ready to take on whatever challenge comes next.

And, speaking of those challenges, the number of texts and emails I have been sharing with the sole subject of Operation CM over the past few weeks just shows that you never say never.  While I'm not sure I really want him to jump on a plane and head West for a few days, being able to flirt, laugh and have fun with someone who really is nice, fun and still not bad looking at 44, is not a bad thing.  Hey, again, it beats the alternative.  And, as another friend pointed out, he's a cop...with handcuffs...just saying!

So, as in all great accomplishments, I am going to take a moment to pat myself on the back, say cheers with my Diet Coke (sans Jack on a Sunday night) and think yippee for me!  Oh yeah, and I pre-celebrated with a shopping trip to Ann Taylor and Michael Kors...hey, this deserved a shopping spree, don't you think?!

Sunday, March 4, 2012

No safety net

I realized long ago two important facts.  One, sunshine makes me incredibly happy, singing out loud, dancing in my back yard happy.  And, two, Nicholas Sparks books were written with one sole purpose, to make women cry.  Not just cute sniffles and one lone tear down your cheek cry but full belly heaving, streak inducing sobbing jags.  Now, imagine my dilemma when those two facts of life collide on an otherwise uneventful Sunday, with me reading a Nicholas Sparks books while sitting outside on a gorgeous almost Spring-like day.  The end result: you find me inhaling jelly beans like they are air, all the while cursing myself as I am going to have to enter these horrid calories in my Fitness Pal later this evening.  But, I justify them by saying one, they are practically like fruit and two, crying must burn at least 100 calories, right?  As you all know, justification is definitely a strong suit of mine.  But, as we also know, jelly beans seem to induce many of my epiphanies. 

I have come to the very sad realization that I really have been living life on the safe side of the street lately.  I know safety isn't always a bad thing.  Wearing your seat belt is smart, motorcycle helmets were invented for a reason and well, I've yet to find one good reason for ever wanting to jump out of a perfectly good airplane to attempt sky diving.  So, I'm not saying I am advocating throwing all caution to the wind and becoming one of those thrill seekers who can't find a company to insure them.  No, I'm just saying, to quote the personal trainer of a friend of mine "you are hiding in that safe body", but to me, I'm hiding in the safety of arm distance relationships.  Although, really, I am probably hiding in this safe body as well...but I promise I am trying (with the exception of today's complete jelly bean backpedal).

It isn't that I have avoiding dating since I left Alex, but as it has been pointed out to me on numerous occasions, I really have dated the wrong guys.  I've dated the right now guys, the guys who I really have no worry about falling for, hence not getting hurt.  And, my latest distraction is no different.  Although at least two readers will be cheering the fact that Operation CM which we started well over a year ago actually has traction, even they will admit me having a long distance flirting relationship with a man who will most likely never live in the same time zone as me, is fruitless...and then, obviously safe!  Yes, it is nice to have a guy, even one who lives 3000 miles away, send you fun flirty texts to make you smile.  But, it isn't like I am actually going to have to take down any walls for him.  Heck, if that is all I wanted, I wouldn't have to worry about eating jelly beans for breakfast, lunch, and dinner as I'd never see him. 

So, in addition to cutting back on the empty calories and exercising (actual exercise) 6 days a week, I have decided to add a little more excitement to my life. Not quite dangerous excitement, but more getting back on the roller coaster, stomach fluttering, heart racing kind of excitement.  The kind that means that yes, I might get hurt, but also means I am not just sitting back and letting life happen around me.  A few girlfriends and I went out to hear a band last night as part of my entertainment chair duties for the festival I am involved in, and the lead singer joked that the "Reserved" sign he had placed on the table for us actually meant it was for reserved women.  And, while we all laughed at the comment, it hit home a little.  Being safe obviously isn't getting me any closer to the life I envision someday so a change needs to be made.

I am not saying I am going to jump all over the chance to go out with the nice looking but drunk former professional football player who said to me last night "When you get back, and are ready to date, look me up" even though he was the one leaving town today, but if he does do his homework to ask me out, I just might say yes.  And, instead of waiting for the Hot Electrician to realize he really does want to make the first move, I actually stepped up our texting friendship a little and was pleasantly surprised by the open door he left.  Yes, he is definitely one who could make me question my decision to ride the scream inducing roller coasters and head back to the Dumbo ride, but isn't the danger what makes it worth it?  We all enjoy the meandering and pleasant rides at Disneyland, but we know the exhilaration we feel when we get off of the Matterhorn is why we go back.  And, well, I am ready to go back to Disneyland.