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.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
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!
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?!
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.
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.
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