I listen to the news in the morning. I can’t help it. Not only do I like to know what is going on in the world before I walk in the door at my office and everyone is buzzing around with “Did you know?” “What do you think about?” Working in an industry that is affected by politics justifies my obsession with MSNBC, CNN and Fox news a tad. I also know it reminds me of living in DC…where I think cars didn’t even come with alternative stations. It is like my version of “Doc Hollywood” when he would call the weather channel to hear just a taste of the accent he had grown to love. Just in a much more depressing cynical kind of way. Now, on the way home I listen to my country favorites and dream about Jake from Sweet Home Alabama wanting to sweep me off my feet in his extended cab Ford F250 but my mornings are reserved for reality. Which leads me to my new thoughts for 2012…maybe I need to branch out a little.
As I was scanning the online news this morning (yes, I really need to read more fiction) I saw a blip on Yahoo about your horoscope for the upcoming year so, while I have never been a believer in letting a life forecast determined by burning balls of fire thousands of miles away determine steps I take I couldn’t help clicking on the link and getting caught up by the predictions for an abundance of romance in the months dominated by the moon of something or other. Which I guess could be a problem…if I don’t know what month they are referring to, how will I know when to start looking for this love? And, if 2012 is going to be the year of romance and flowers for me, do you think my horoscope last year was just an emoticon of the god of love blowing me a raspberry? Really, 2011 wasn’t bad…lots of good fun just no prince…
But, maybe (as we’ve discovered more than once) I am expecting to be hit over the head with the love stick when instead, it is going to be more of a gradual affection that I keep putting out of my mind…like Tony Soprano. He continues to be so incredibly nice with check in texts (not too many…just enough to make me smile), will call every few days for his “fix” (he likes my accent) and makes me laugh whenever we talk. We haven’t had another date yet but I don’t think that is out of the question. I still think he is probably too nice but maybe he is just part of the abundance of romance that the stars say I have in store for me.
We all feel a sense of renewed excitement at the start of a year and I am hoping that maybe if I switch to music just one morning a week that I can add a little more hope and a little less reality to my year as well.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Well, it sounded like a good plan...
I pride myself on being a pretty good political strategist and actually do quite a bit of that in my "real job". I know how to best stage an appearance, who should sit next to whom, what events to invite which elected officials to, what answers should be given when, etc...and while it obviously makes life seem pretty staged and planned, it works! So, one wouldn't be too surprised to know that I'm usually pretty good at, well, scheming, off the clock either. It is a talent (I choose to call it a talent) that I seem to have possessed all my life. I knew how to conveniently be somewhere at the right time for that "chance" meeting...to know to do my homework on a prospect ahead of time...being prepared is never a bad thing. And, for the most part it has served me well. And, what is better, I have a very good friend who happens to be a A+ schemer as well. Therefore, one would think that when these two friends, with a little brain power put their scheming heads together, that they would have covered all the details...the minute and the general. Well, that is what one gets for thinking!
New Year's Eve is always pressure filled (read my entry from last year for confirmation) but it can also present a very nice opportunity for things to just "magically" happen...you know that magical kiss at midnight business....Yes, I've been watching holiday movies again. Anyhow, Hallmark created expectations set aside, it seemed like the perfect time for the Hot Electrician and I to at least be at the same place at the same time again...especially since his relationship was over now. So, off we went with our plans (granted, way late in the week) and a party was planned. Perfect! Now, what to wear.
Of course, I spent hours telling myself to not get my hopes up as really he never instigates the text conversations and obviously knows my number. But, in conversations with my friend, we decided that women just are better at the whole text flirting thing...Maybe I should have been watching "He's Just Not That Into You" instead of Kiss at Christmas or Boyfriend for Christmas or well, anything with Christmas in the title. But, I was caught up the excitement of it all...even made plans to have my eye make up done all sexy like.
Let's revisit the previous paragraph now though as we overlooked one small detail....he was having his own party! Seriously!!! And, the guests at the different parties would not be the kind you could mix together into one...it would be like putting onions into the fruit bowl with apples...it just makes everything taste bad. What dopes! So much for the planned spontaneity of a NYE kiss.
Maybe I should be seeing this as a sign...he doesn't start the texts (and sometimes doesn't answer them) and our plans for a chance sighting is completely stopped in its tracks...hmm....anyone else see a pattern here? And, I always thought I was smart! But, somehow I still think we're supposed to at least go out...don't ask me to explain my logic, I just think it!
New Year's Eve still turned out to be a blast ....with great friends, yummy food and tons of laughs...reminding me that for all that I may not have, I have what I need...and, who knows, maybe 2012 will be the real start of my new life.
New Year's Eve is always pressure filled (read my entry from last year for confirmation) but it can also present a very nice opportunity for things to just "magically" happen...you know that magical kiss at midnight business....Yes, I've been watching holiday movies again. Anyhow, Hallmark created expectations set aside, it seemed like the perfect time for the Hot Electrician and I to at least be at the same place at the same time again...especially since his relationship was over now. So, off we went with our plans (granted, way late in the week) and a party was planned. Perfect! Now, what to wear.
Of course, I spent hours telling myself to not get my hopes up as really he never instigates the text conversations and obviously knows my number. But, in conversations with my friend, we decided that women just are better at the whole text flirting thing...Maybe I should have been watching "He's Just Not That Into You" instead of Kiss at Christmas or Boyfriend for Christmas or well, anything with Christmas in the title. But, I was caught up the excitement of it all...even made plans to have my eye make up done all sexy like.
Let's revisit the previous paragraph now though as we overlooked one small detail....he was having his own party! Seriously!!! And, the guests at the different parties would not be the kind you could mix together into one...it would be like putting onions into the fruit bowl with apples...it just makes everything taste bad. What dopes! So much for the planned spontaneity of a NYE kiss.
Maybe I should be seeing this as a sign...he doesn't start the texts (and sometimes doesn't answer them) and our plans for a chance sighting is completely stopped in its tracks...hmm....anyone else see a pattern here? And, I always thought I was smart! But, somehow I still think we're supposed to at least go out...don't ask me to explain my logic, I just think it!
New Year's Eve still turned out to be a blast ....with great friends, yummy food and tons of laughs...reminding me that for all that I may not have, I have what I need...and, who knows, maybe 2012 will be the real start of my new life.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
New Year's Countdown
When I was a little girl, I would tape (yes, tape) the top 50 song countdown each year…and, then like many young girls, would dance around the house to my favorites, daydream about what my young brain thought were the meanings behind the love songs and dream about who my prince would be. Fast forward a few (no counting!!) decades and my love of countdowns is still the same…but this time I DVR the CMT top 50 video countdown and sit with a glass of wine to enjoy them. The dancing around the house still happens sometimes (a little less this year as I really don’t want “my guts to fall out”) but, unfortunately, the wondering about the lyrics has been replaced by an understanding of why people write about heartache and sorrow, and, as we all know, I’ve realized there are a few more frogs than princes in the world.
But, last night a song actually struck me as one I need to listen to and pay attention to more often. Of course, it is a country song so I would be more drawn to it than I would be a Nine Inch Nails or Death Cab Cutie song (hey, pretty impressed I even have heard of those bands, aren’t you?!) but it spoke to me, really. I’m not always a huge Reba fan…which is pretty sacrilegious for a country music fun but this one is my new favorite. It was called “Somebody’s Chelsea” and it was about a woman sitting next to an older man on a plane ride who told her about the wife he’d recently lost who he’d loved for 60 years. A woman who really was his world…and how it felt to be the woman sitting next to him on the plane who’d settled more than once but wasn’t going to settle again. She was eventually going to be “Somebody’s Chelsea”. We know that I can’t be someone’s everything (that would give me waaaay too much control) but this song was the musical analogy of someone who’d cover me with a blanket if I fell asleep on the couch. I want, no deserve, to be why someone can’t wait to get home at night, to be who he thinks of periodically during the day and who he talks about when he is on a plane to wherever. And, I really do believe that person is out there…somewhere.
New Year’s Eve can be looked at two ways (and, as it is coming up soon, I’m thinking about this). You can either look at it and reflect on the things that didn’t happen in the past year or look at it as the door to a new tomorrow. I, personally, am going to be excited about the adventures that await me…and maybe this will be the year I do meet that prince charming from dreams long ago…but only if I will be “His Chelsea”.
But, last night a song actually struck me as one I need to listen to and pay attention to more often. Of course, it is a country song so I would be more drawn to it than I would be a Nine Inch Nails or Death Cab Cutie song (hey, pretty impressed I even have heard of those bands, aren’t you?!) but it spoke to me, really. I’m not always a huge Reba fan…which is pretty sacrilegious for a country music fun but this one is my new favorite. It was called “Somebody’s Chelsea” and it was about a woman sitting next to an older man on a plane ride who told her about the wife he’d recently lost who he’d loved for 60 years. A woman who really was his world…and how it felt to be the woman sitting next to him on the plane who’d settled more than once but wasn’t going to settle again. She was eventually going to be “Somebody’s Chelsea”. We know that I can’t be someone’s everything (that would give me waaaay too much control) but this song was the musical analogy of someone who’d cover me with a blanket if I fell asleep on the couch. I want, no deserve, to be why someone can’t wait to get home at night, to be who he thinks of periodically during the day and who he talks about when he is on a plane to wherever. And, I really do believe that person is out there…somewhere.
New Year’s Eve can be looked at two ways (and, as it is coming up soon, I’m thinking about this). You can either look at it and reflect on the things that didn’t happen in the past year or look at it as the door to a new tomorrow. I, personally, am going to be excited about the adventures that await me…and maybe this will be the year I do meet that prince charming from dreams long ago…but only if I will be “His Chelsea”.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Just add tissue
What happens when you take the ingredients for a complete emotional meltdown and then add a cute but sappy chick flick to the mix? You get me last night, having a full on crying jag in the parking lot of the movie theaters. Thank goodness it was after the movie though as I am just not one of those pretty crying types…I don’t have the lone tear drop softly falling down my cheek look. You don’t see me crying and think Renee Zellwegger from “Jerry Maguire”. And, fortunately, it was a short lived waterworks session that I think I just needed to release before heading home.
I guess I should start with why I was a walking time bomb of stress and pent up tears. First, after years of putting off the inevitable I am going to the hospital tomorrow to have a partial hysterectomy. Believe me, I know, in a few weeks I am going to be so happy to have this behind me. But, right now, I’m freaking out about the procedure, struggling with the finality of this decision, about my kids if something happens, about my mother coming to stay for gosh knows how long…maybe I should have started with that! I don’t handle people taking care of me well at all…as a matter of fact, I’m kind of mean about it. Add that predisposition to patient witchiness and add in the character who makes me crazier than usual and well, pretty sure I see a recipe for extra pain killers in my future. But, of course, the key to my independence is no narcotics so I can drive so I will be in quite the pickle.
Adding to the hormonal roller coaster was an out of the blue, completely unexpected text from Alex. Yes, Alex, my Mr. Big…the one I hadn’t texted in months and was so proud of myself that I was thinking a pair of Michael Kors boots should be on my Christmas list (c’mon, Santa, I’ve been that good). Anyhow, here I was sitting in a very important meeting, giving a presentation to a group of our board members and being what I would like to assume was incredibly impressive when I saw I had received two text messages. As this was the day of the recent Virginia Tech shooting I had been getting check ins from family and friends so casually glanced at the sender list and literally dropped my phone. There, in bold print was his nick name with a five word message saying he was sorry to hear about the shootings. My shaking hands picked up the phone, hit end and I sat back in my chair feeling like I’d just been punched in the stomach. Really? After months of not responding to my occasional hi text with no contact on birthdays, holidays, Tuesdays…this was when he chose to send a check in. And, of course, like alcoholic who can’t resist the allure of his favorite drink, I texted back. Nothing too personal but a text just the same. And, then, of course, silence…and numerous mental rereads of the message. Why now? Why that? And, why nothing else? Was this because I hadn’t checked in for months? Knowing him and knowing his control/hold over me, I knew part of it was for that exact reason…to make sure I hadn’t completely forgotten him. To make sure I knew I hadn’t really shaken him from my system. And, for that, I was so mad…at him and at me! But, like that same alcoholic who fell of the wagon for that brief time, I started over and am now at day 6. I can do this…and Michael Kors boots are in my future.
Now, we get to the finale, a great night with wonderful girlfriends seeing “New Year’s Eve”…a cute movie about love in all shapes and sizes and living life with no regrets…wow…do you see why I went through a box of tissues?! Here I am, 2 ½ years after leaving Alex and I’m still alone. Alone, by choice, really, but alone nonetheless. I realize I just sat through 90 minutes of fictional happiness but I still couldn’t shake the temporary fit of despair regarding my current position…wondering when I’ll be able to find someone to kiss under the mistletoe.
Depression is not a state I like to visit, let alone live in, so I wiped my tears, turned up the music and started to head home. But, first, checked my phone to find a very sweet smile inducing text from Tony Soprano and really, for now, I’m going to think that is all I need.
I guess I should start with why I was a walking time bomb of stress and pent up tears. First, after years of putting off the inevitable I am going to the hospital tomorrow to have a partial hysterectomy. Believe me, I know, in a few weeks I am going to be so happy to have this behind me. But, right now, I’m freaking out about the procedure, struggling with the finality of this decision, about my kids if something happens, about my mother coming to stay for gosh knows how long…maybe I should have started with that! I don’t handle people taking care of me well at all…as a matter of fact, I’m kind of mean about it. Add that predisposition to patient witchiness and add in the character who makes me crazier than usual and well, pretty sure I see a recipe for extra pain killers in my future. But, of course, the key to my independence is no narcotics so I can drive so I will be in quite the pickle.
Adding to the hormonal roller coaster was an out of the blue, completely unexpected text from Alex. Yes, Alex, my Mr. Big…the one I hadn’t texted in months and was so proud of myself that I was thinking a pair of Michael Kors boots should be on my Christmas list (c’mon, Santa, I’ve been that good). Anyhow, here I was sitting in a very important meeting, giving a presentation to a group of our board members and being what I would like to assume was incredibly impressive when I saw I had received two text messages. As this was the day of the recent Virginia Tech shooting I had been getting check ins from family and friends so casually glanced at the sender list and literally dropped my phone. There, in bold print was his nick name with a five word message saying he was sorry to hear about the shootings. My shaking hands picked up the phone, hit end and I sat back in my chair feeling like I’d just been punched in the stomach. Really? After months of not responding to my occasional hi text with no contact on birthdays, holidays, Tuesdays…this was when he chose to send a check in. And, of course, like alcoholic who can’t resist the allure of his favorite drink, I texted back. Nothing too personal but a text just the same. And, then, of course, silence…and numerous mental rereads of the message. Why now? Why that? And, why nothing else? Was this because I hadn’t checked in for months? Knowing him and knowing his control/hold over me, I knew part of it was for that exact reason…to make sure I hadn’t completely forgotten him. To make sure I knew I hadn’t really shaken him from my system. And, for that, I was so mad…at him and at me! But, like that same alcoholic who fell of the wagon for that brief time, I started over and am now at day 6. I can do this…and Michael Kors boots are in my future.
Now, we get to the finale, a great night with wonderful girlfriends seeing “New Year’s Eve”…a cute movie about love in all shapes and sizes and living life with no regrets…wow…do you see why I went through a box of tissues?! Here I am, 2 ½ years after leaving Alex and I’m still alone. Alone, by choice, really, but alone nonetheless. I realize I just sat through 90 minutes of fictional happiness but I still couldn’t shake the temporary fit of despair regarding my current position…wondering when I’ll be able to find someone to kiss under the mistletoe.
Depression is not a state I like to visit, let alone live in, so I wiped my tears, turned up the music and started to head home. But, first, checked my phone to find a very sweet smile inducing text from Tony Soprano and really, for now, I’m going to think that is all I need.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Nice Guy with an Edge
My self named crazy aunt did one of her quick over night visits on her way to Palm Springs last night and as we were talking she made a rather profound (well, at least profound to the Nyquil pumping chest cold shadow of my former self I was at the time) statement. I was telling her about the date I went on Sunday night…don’t worry, I’m going to tell all of you about it too…and commented that the man in question may have been too nice. She said, “at some point you realize there isn’t such a thing as too nice…I get wanting men with an edge but don’t forget edges can cause bruises”. Wow…is this kind of like “letting a nice guy be nice to you”? And, if so, maybe these are those signs I keep thinking I’ll see when the time is right. Or, are they just like billboards you pass on the freeways…the ones that you see so often you don’t even notice them anymore?
Anyway, as I mentioned in my last blog, I did close down (again…and for the final time) my profile on the online dating site. However, prior to shutting it down, I received an email from a guy who seemed to be relatively smart, not bad looking, held down a job and actually had all of his teeth. After a couple of weeks of fun texts, emails and phone calls, I agreed to a quick drink. Of course, schedules were a nightmare so we finally picked a night and I wasn’t actually nervous. Granted, life has a way of throwing curve balls so when the night in question came around and I was suffering through the beginning of the aforementioned chest cold, I was very tempted to bag the whole thing and curl up on my couch with a sappy Nicholas Sparks book and a Jack Daniels laced cup of tea. But, you’d all be very proud of me because I put on my hot jeans, boots and cute but not too sexy top and went for it! And, to be perfectly honest, I had a very nice time.
He’s cute, not make my heart skip a beat hot, but nice looking…very tall, former football player, Italian contractor so, of course, he will now be referred to as Tony Soprano. I’d love to say it was love at first sight, actually, no I wouldn’t love to say that because he has been separated less than 6 months so it wouldn’t be smart on my part. But, really, no worries, because I didn’t feel butterflies but a part of me really wanted to. He has his own contracting business, coaches his sons’ various football teams, sounds like he has a great house, complimented me on my looks, and you could tell he’d be the kind of guy who’d cover you with an afghan if you fell asleep on the couch. I just know he’d be too nice…yes, I need to have my head examined. As well, I may be borrowing trouble as it isn’t like he has asked me to marry him. He did send the appropriate follow up texts yesterday and today though so I do think he was somewhat impressed…I’m still surprised when guys think they are lucky to go out with me. Wow…pretty much 10 therapy sessions needed in just one paragraph.
Anyhow, back to the profound statement…I think at age 42, I do still need the edge…at least a little bit of one. I like playing the back and forth game a little…I don’t want to be in constant question of how a man feels about me, but I also don’t want to know I can be in charge. If Tony Soprano asks me out again, I think I’ll go but I will also keep occasionally texting Hot Electrician and thinking that Nice Guy with an Edge isn’t really asking too much.
Anyway, as I mentioned in my last blog, I did close down (again…and for the final time) my profile on the online dating site. However, prior to shutting it down, I received an email from a guy who seemed to be relatively smart, not bad looking, held down a job and actually had all of his teeth. After a couple of weeks of fun texts, emails and phone calls, I agreed to a quick drink. Of course, schedules were a nightmare so we finally picked a night and I wasn’t actually nervous. Granted, life has a way of throwing curve balls so when the night in question came around and I was suffering through the beginning of the aforementioned chest cold, I was very tempted to bag the whole thing and curl up on my couch with a sappy Nicholas Sparks book and a Jack Daniels laced cup of tea. But, you’d all be very proud of me because I put on my hot jeans, boots and cute but not too sexy top and went for it! And, to be perfectly honest, I had a very nice time.
He’s cute, not make my heart skip a beat hot, but nice looking…very tall, former football player, Italian contractor so, of course, he will now be referred to as Tony Soprano. I’d love to say it was love at first sight, actually, no I wouldn’t love to say that because he has been separated less than 6 months so it wouldn’t be smart on my part. But, really, no worries, because I didn’t feel butterflies but a part of me really wanted to. He has his own contracting business, coaches his sons’ various football teams, sounds like he has a great house, complimented me on my looks, and you could tell he’d be the kind of guy who’d cover you with an afghan if you fell asleep on the couch. I just know he’d be too nice…yes, I need to have my head examined. As well, I may be borrowing trouble as it isn’t like he has asked me to marry him. He did send the appropriate follow up texts yesterday and today though so I do think he was somewhat impressed…I’m still surprised when guys think they are lucky to go out with me. Wow…pretty much 10 therapy sessions needed in just one paragraph.
Anyhow, back to the profound statement…I think at age 42, I do still need the edge…at least a little bit of one. I like playing the back and forth game a little…I don’t want to be in constant question of how a man feels about me, but I also don’t want to know I can be in charge. If Tony Soprano asks me out again, I think I’ll go but I will also keep occasionally texting Hot Electrician and thinking that Nice Guy with an Edge isn’t really asking too much.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Because I said so...
Don’t you hate it when your own advice comes back to bite you in the butt? Well, I do! One might assume that would mean I’d quit giving advice but that is way too rational. No, I’d rather just state for the record, that I am definitely (not proudly) more about “Do as I say, not as I do”. This is never more obvious as now as I just hit hide on my recently re-activated online dating profile. I realized I just told a still single friend in her 30’s that online dating was a good option for her…and even recommended this particular site. But…and, yes…this is justification at its finest…she is in her early 30’s, never been married, and isn’t as set in her ways as me!
Really, if I’m being honest, part of the reason I want off the online dating merry-go-round, in addition to the inordinate amount of weirdos out there, it is because I’m too nice. Don’t roll your eyes…it is true. I started to feel guilty every time I didn’t respond to somebody…truly! Even if there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in Argentina I was going to go out with this person, I felt the need to respond. Why? Who knows! But, the more I responded the more I felt bad. And, who needs that?! So, while logically I know I will never see these people again, the idea that I took myself off the virtual menu at least makes me feel better about blowing off those who sent me messages.
Now, onto the other piece of advice I am not taking…or at least not right now…is “Let a nice guy be nice to you”. Yes, it sounds incredibly sensible and why wouldn’t anyone want someone to be nice to them? And, in my defense, it isn’t that I want someone to be mean to me…really, I don’t! I just know I can’t date someone who is too nice…I have a tendency to walk all over them. I really should come with a warning label…proceed with caution. Do you think they make those in rhinestone?
Really, if I’m being honest, part of the reason I want off the online dating merry-go-round, in addition to the inordinate amount of weirdos out there, it is because I’m too nice. Don’t roll your eyes…it is true. I started to feel guilty every time I didn’t respond to somebody…truly! Even if there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in Argentina I was going to go out with this person, I felt the need to respond. Why? Who knows! But, the more I responded the more I felt bad. And, who needs that?! So, while logically I know I will never see these people again, the idea that I took myself off the virtual menu at least makes me feel better about blowing off those who sent me messages.
Now, onto the other piece of advice I am not taking…or at least not right now…is “Let a nice guy be nice to you”. Yes, it sounds incredibly sensible and why wouldn’t anyone want someone to be nice to them? And, in my defense, it isn’t that I want someone to be mean to me…really, I don’t! I just know I can’t date someone who is too nice…I have a tendency to walk all over them. I really should come with a warning label…proceed with caution. Do you think they make those in rhinestone?
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Freud would have a field day
One of my favorite definitions to repeat to myself is that of insanity…doing the same thing over and over again expecting to get different results. We all do this at some point in time. We are creatures of habit like that…but yet, I still shake my head every time I do something that just proves there is a part of me that Freud definitely would have loved to have gotten hold of. Of course, I am sure you are all wondering what brain challenged activity I engaged in this time but don’t worry, no bones were broken, no alcohol consumed and there were no motorcycles involved. Just my computer and, obviously, a temporary bout of insanity.
Yes, I revisited the world of online dating. Now, before you start your virtual eye rolling and hand wringing, I have an excuse. Well, no not really, but I was prodded sort of. I got to thinking this past weekend (yes, that always gets me into trouble) that I probably ought to expand my dating horizons once again. Mr. Kawasaki is obviously not going to come sweep me off my feet, Hot Electrician is still on his own time frame and I really am not interested in anyone named Tank or Mr. O so really, I need to get out there. And, by out there I don’t mean my latest adventure which is to be in a play again…which is wonderful…but my male cast consists of 2 gay guys and 2 very married guys. Yeah, not meeting anyone there!
So, I did visit the forbidden land of online match making sites with the misguided notion all of the crazies who were there last time met women and had been replaced with the reality version of Steve McGarrett, Mitch Rapp or Matthew Donnally (Necessary Roughness). Hey, give me a break, sometimes I stray into fantasy land but I always come back to reality…or am shoved back. Either way, I learn.
Once again, the ego strokes were great as within 2 minutes of un-hiding my profile I was greeted with several notifications of messages in my in-box. And, really, while the first few were obviously men living in the basement of their mother’s house watching the various online sites 24/7, there were a couple with possibilities. Tall, looked relatively normal, didn’t misspell all of their words and, really, almost funny. I should have known, however, looks can be deceiving and really, these were just ploys to keep me around because after a few friendly emails the true colors come through. Ignoring the continued misspellings of their, there, your and you’re (which as you all know was VERY hard for me) I made it through about 4 emails with someone who used the word cowboy in his username (a good sign I thought) until calling me Special K (really?!?) that he became incredibly surprised that I’d never been to a rodeo…he was shocked even…why, because you know me so well?! I even got past that and explained to him that it interfered with a festival I’m very involved with (and even gave him the name of the event). Granted, I didn’t write in all caps I was past president of the event or that most of my friends came through that event but I highlighted it enough to make it obviously important to me. Well, his response to me started with “I will never go to the XXX Festival again as it was…blah, blah, blah….” Okay, you are automatically out of the running for this pageant based on sheer stupidity. I don’t care if you didn’t have fun at our event but seriously, to slam it, while trying to impress me. Yeah, delete!
I know there are people who swear by these sites…and I will give it another few days…for comic relief reasons alone. But then, I’m going to try to leave the crazy ward by at least not expecting different results!
Yes, I revisited the world of online dating. Now, before you start your virtual eye rolling and hand wringing, I have an excuse. Well, no not really, but I was prodded sort of. I got to thinking this past weekend (yes, that always gets me into trouble) that I probably ought to expand my dating horizons once again. Mr. Kawasaki is obviously not going to come sweep me off my feet, Hot Electrician is still on his own time frame and I really am not interested in anyone named Tank or Mr. O so really, I need to get out there. And, by out there I don’t mean my latest adventure which is to be in a play again…which is wonderful…but my male cast consists of 2 gay guys and 2 very married guys. Yeah, not meeting anyone there!
So, I did visit the forbidden land of online match making sites with the misguided notion all of the crazies who were there last time met women and had been replaced with the reality version of Steve McGarrett, Mitch Rapp or Matthew Donnally (Necessary Roughness). Hey, give me a break, sometimes I stray into fantasy land but I always come back to reality…or am shoved back. Either way, I learn.
Once again, the ego strokes were great as within 2 minutes of un-hiding my profile I was greeted with several notifications of messages in my in-box. And, really, while the first few were obviously men living in the basement of their mother’s house watching the various online sites 24/7, there were a couple with possibilities. Tall, looked relatively normal, didn’t misspell all of their words and, really, almost funny. I should have known, however, looks can be deceiving and really, these were just ploys to keep me around because after a few friendly emails the true colors come through. Ignoring the continued misspellings of their, there, your and you’re (which as you all know was VERY hard for me) I made it through about 4 emails with someone who used the word cowboy in his username (a good sign I thought) until calling me Special K (really?!?) that he became incredibly surprised that I’d never been to a rodeo…he was shocked even…why, because you know me so well?! I even got past that and explained to him that it interfered with a festival I’m very involved with (and even gave him the name of the event). Granted, I didn’t write in all caps I was past president of the event or that most of my friends came through that event but I highlighted it enough to make it obviously important to me. Well, his response to me started with “I will never go to the XXX Festival again as it was…blah, blah, blah….” Okay, you are automatically out of the running for this pageant based on sheer stupidity. I don’t care if you didn’t have fun at our event but seriously, to slam it, while trying to impress me. Yeah, delete!
I know there are people who swear by these sites…and I will give it another few days…for comic relief reasons alone. But then, I’m going to try to leave the crazy ward by at least not expecting different results!
Friday, October 21, 2011
The Search for the Great Pumpkin (oh, is that what we're calling it these days?)
A neighbor told me yesterday that October is considered a black month. I love my neighbor but often just nod my head when she shares these little tidbits with me because she is also the one who points out the exact time of night she has seen opossums on my roof. While I greatly appreciate the neighborhood watch program she is conducting, I am a tad concerned that she is sitting at her window watching the comings and goings of my house so closely that she knows what time the critters start their rooftop party. Of course, we all know my house doesn’t get that much two legged dance action so I’m not too concerned right now. We’ll revisit the need for an 8 foot fence if necessary in the future.
But I digress, I used to think it was just me who got a little misty eyed watching the annual pumpkin pyramid take shape, or had a touch of the melancholies over the shortening of the days and lengthening of the nights but with her comment, I realized this could be a phenomenon I’m experiencing and not just a sign I’m actually depressed. Granted, it could mean I’m just as crazy as my possum stalking old maid neighbor but…let’s not go there. I’d much rather just believe it is some external environmental factors at work making me crave sugar and chick flicks.
And, while I also know I could start sounding like a broken record (remember those…they were the round things that looked like Frisbees which we’d play over and over again…Shawn Cassidy, Alabama…oh yeah, I’m old!) but I am slightly bewildered by the fact that it has been over 2 years since I left Alex and during that time, he and the 8th dwarf have moved into happily ever after land and I am really no closer to meeting the man of my dreams. That, right there, could be the problem though as the man I’m looking for probably only exists in my dreams. But, I’m not ready to admit that yet. I’m going to just chalk it up to a mid season slump…like too many incomplete passes. Really, if I looked at my record I’m probably 0-3 which isn’t going to win me a Heisman any time soon.
But, just because Mr. Kawasaki didn’t want a follow up date and Hot Electrician still hasn’t figured out he really does want to go out with me…and I really believe he does, I’m not giving up. Somewhere there is someone who wants to wade through the current, climb the fence and find the key that unlocks the barriers I have put up to moving on. He’s out there…and once we get past the gloom, doom and drear of “The Black Month”, I probably won’t even remember being sad about his absence.
But I digress, I used to think it was just me who got a little misty eyed watching the annual pumpkin pyramid take shape, or had a touch of the melancholies over the shortening of the days and lengthening of the nights but with her comment, I realized this could be a phenomenon I’m experiencing and not just a sign I’m actually depressed. Granted, it could mean I’m just as crazy as my possum stalking old maid neighbor but…let’s not go there. I’d much rather just believe it is some external environmental factors at work making me crave sugar and chick flicks.
And, while I also know I could start sounding like a broken record (remember those…they were the round things that looked like Frisbees which we’d play over and over again…Shawn Cassidy, Alabama…oh yeah, I’m old!) but I am slightly bewildered by the fact that it has been over 2 years since I left Alex and during that time, he and the 8th dwarf have moved into happily ever after land and I am really no closer to meeting the man of my dreams. That, right there, could be the problem though as the man I’m looking for probably only exists in my dreams. But, I’m not ready to admit that yet. I’m going to just chalk it up to a mid season slump…like too many incomplete passes. Really, if I looked at my record I’m probably 0-3 which isn’t going to win me a Heisman any time soon.
But, just because Mr. Kawasaki didn’t want a follow up date and Hot Electrician still hasn’t figured out he really does want to go out with me…and I really believe he does, I’m not giving up. Somewhere there is someone who wants to wade through the current, climb the fence and find the key that unlocks the barriers I have put up to moving on. He’s out there…and once we get past the gloom, doom and drear of “The Black Month”, I probably won’t even remember being sad about his absence.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Harleys & hairspray
What do you get when you combine 5 almost middle aged women with varying degrees of marital status, 4 inch heels and the threat of a Hell’s Angels retaliation incident? Stumped? Well, you get my Saturday night, of course. Isn’t that what all Saturday nights are like?!
Of course, the weekend didn’t start out strange, it started out resembling more a Desperate Housewives episode vs. a night with the Orange County Choppers as I attended the auction for my kids’ school. The annual event this year had a denim & diamonds theme so my Friday night was spent with enough bling to rival the MTV Music Awards and enough hair spray to blow a new hole in the ozone. I don’t mind attending these things as a solo as then I don’t have to worry about entertaining anyone but I wouldn’t have minded bidding on a few items that I would need a Sugar Daddy for. However, overall my role went well and I liked the way my butt looked in my jeans so I’m putting it in the win column.
Because I seem to jam all my crazy activities for the year into one weekend, I left the auction to head to the coast to the 1st of two birthday evenings for girlfriends. I missed dinner but caught up with a group of ladies at a fun beach hang out that happened to be celebrating 80’s night…complete with costumes. Well, considering I was dressed more for the Cattlebaron’s Ball in Houston, I didn’t quite gel with the patrons. Of course, none of my friends did either, especially since one of them was actually born in the 80’s! Seriously! After much laughter and a few moments of wondering why anyone would think the fashion of the 80’s was smart to revisit, we called it a night and headed home.
Of course, the smart thing to do would have been to sleep in, catch up on DVR’d shows and do laundry all day but hey, since when did I do that?! So, after 4 hrs of sleep, I was up, walking with a group of ladies, headed to my daughter’s basketball game then showered, changed and ready for round two. Hey, even if I am still smarting a little over the lack of follow up from Mr, Kawasaki, I am all for having fun with the ladies! So, hair straightened, eye make-up done and heels on, I was ready to go!
After a great meal with a few margaritas and again, lots of laughter, we were ready for a little more so headed to the cowboy bar from a month back. However, where it was wall to wall tight Wranglers and boots that first night, the 2nd trip had more elastic banded polyester pants and loafers. The crowd definitely noticed when we walked in, mostly because we lowered the average age by a good 20 years…and we were celebrating birthdays in the 40’s! But, we are a group who bring the fun with us so settled in for a few more laughs. However, when the band was ½ way through a popular Eric Clapton song before we even recognized the tune, we decided to move on. But to where…
As we drove to the next possible location, we realized there was absolutely no one on the streets…no cars, no people, no one. It was like one of those scenes in a tornado/hurricane movie where the newbie from California walks outside to comment on how peaceful it is when really it was just the eye of the storm moving over. Well, as we drove by possibility #2, we started getting text messages from various friends in town warning us that there had been a shooting at a Hell’s Angels funeral earlier in the day and the troops were moving Southward, straight into our path. That is when we realized, the ghost town scene was actually much more reminiscent of an old Western when the women and children were locked behind boarded windows and doors waiting for the shoot out to be over. That is when we realized, thank goodness, that someone was sending us a sign…a neon sign that blazed “GO HOME”!!! A biker town, in the middle of a turf dispute was no place for 5 women in designer jeans and high heels…at least not unless they were looking to fulfill some sort of Harley Davidson fantasy.
Overall, the weekend was a lot of fun, a true reminder that I have amazing friends…old and new, I really am content and that, more than anything, I must have known somehow, as a child who had incredibly irrational fears about the Hell’s Angels that they were going to be a part of my life!
Of course, the weekend didn’t start out strange, it started out resembling more a Desperate Housewives episode vs. a night with the Orange County Choppers as I attended the auction for my kids’ school. The annual event this year had a denim & diamonds theme so my Friday night was spent with enough bling to rival the MTV Music Awards and enough hair spray to blow a new hole in the ozone. I don’t mind attending these things as a solo as then I don’t have to worry about entertaining anyone but I wouldn’t have minded bidding on a few items that I would need a Sugar Daddy for. However, overall my role went well and I liked the way my butt looked in my jeans so I’m putting it in the win column.
Because I seem to jam all my crazy activities for the year into one weekend, I left the auction to head to the coast to the 1st of two birthday evenings for girlfriends. I missed dinner but caught up with a group of ladies at a fun beach hang out that happened to be celebrating 80’s night…complete with costumes. Well, considering I was dressed more for the Cattlebaron’s Ball in Houston, I didn’t quite gel with the patrons. Of course, none of my friends did either, especially since one of them was actually born in the 80’s! Seriously! After much laughter and a few moments of wondering why anyone would think the fashion of the 80’s was smart to revisit, we called it a night and headed home.
Of course, the smart thing to do would have been to sleep in, catch up on DVR’d shows and do laundry all day but hey, since when did I do that?! So, after 4 hrs of sleep, I was up, walking with a group of ladies, headed to my daughter’s basketball game then showered, changed and ready for round two. Hey, even if I am still smarting a little over the lack of follow up from Mr, Kawasaki, I am all for having fun with the ladies! So, hair straightened, eye make-up done and heels on, I was ready to go!
After a great meal with a few margaritas and again, lots of laughter, we were ready for a little more so headed to the cowboy bar from a month back. However, where it was wall to wall tight Wranglers and boots that first night, the 2nd trip had more elastic banded polyester pants and loafers. The crowd definitely noticed when we walked in, mostly because we lowered the average age by a good 20 years…and we were celebrating birthdays in the 40’s! But, we are a group who bring the fun with us so settled in for a few more laughs. However, when the band was ½ way through a popular Eric Clapton song before we even recognized the tune, we decided to move on. But to where…
As we drove to the next possible location, we realized there was absolutely no one on the streets…no cars, no people, no one. It was like one of those scenes in a tornado/hurricane movie where the newbie from California walks outside to comment on how peaceful it is when really it was just the eye of the storm moving over. Well, as we drove by possibility #2, we started getting text messages from various friends in town warning us that there had been a shooting at a Hell’s Angels funeral earlier in the day and the troops were moving Southward, straight into our path. That is when we realized, the ghost town scene was actually much more reminiscent of an old Western when the women and children were locked behind boarded windows and doors waiting for the shoot out to be over. That is when we realized, thank goodness, that someone was sending us a sign…a neon sign that blazed “GO HOME”!!! A biker town, in the middle of a turf dispute was no place for 5 women in designer jeans and high heels…at least not unless they were looking to fulfill some sort of Harley Davidson fantasy.
Overall, the weekend was a lot of fun, a true reminder that I have amazing friends…old and new, I really am content and that, more than anything, I must have known somehow, as a child who had incredibly irrational fears about the Hell’s Angels that they were going to be a part of my life!
Monday, October 10, 2011
Same place, different time
I hate when I go so long between blogs because then I feel like I have to be extra entertaining for you to want to come back again, or I need to have a litany of exciting adventures I have experienced lately to explain my absence. Unfortunately I feel I may fail at both but at least I am back and apologize for being away.
The life of a single working mom of two active pre-teen kids is busy enough but you throw in volunteer work and then even the inkling of having a life of your own and really, you run out of day long before you run out of things to do. I have great intentions of being able to work off these extra 20 pounds, spend time with my girlfriends who are going through a time of transition and oh yeah, maybe having time to meet someone, let alone have a relationship with him. But, in all honesty, I wouldn’t trade this for being bored and depressed any day of the week so I’ll just up my Starbucks intake.
While my absence was not filled with crazy antics or hours of romance with Hottie McHottie from Hawaii Five-0, I did meet up with a starring actor in a few blog posts from the past. You used to know him as Cutie but I just can’t handle that name (nor could I then) so, in honor of his motorcycle, we’re calling him Mr. Kawasaki. I know, not very original, but it makes me feel less like I'm talking about either a toddler or one of those Clementine tangerines so it's all good!
Anyhow, one of my events for work had me in his facility a few weeks back, and since we'd been emailing again lately, we decided to meet for a quick hi. I was feeling somewhat cute (and not overly fat) so was game for a glass of wine at his place. And, if we all remember, he met several of the items on the list, he's hot, smart, spells all of his texts correctly, drives a truck, likes football, but was minus a few very important ones...he is 9 years younger than me which really covers a lot. But, it was just a glass of wine, right? Oh yeah...the wine led to a little more but that is when I realized I'm really way too self conscious about my body to ever enjoy being with someone again. So, if I'm not going to be comfortable, how am I ever going to believe someone really wants me?
I realize how that sounds, and know there are feminist self help gurus freaking out all over the globe about my lack of self esteem, ignorance about the true woman's body, the horrors of the Barbie generation on the pysche of women (or is that just what my mother would say?) but this is the way I feel. Logically I know Mr. Kawasaki is hot so, really, it isn't like he's desperate and is willing to be all over the first woman he sees. But, to the 42 year old woman who doesn't like her reflection in the mirror, guys just must like action. Why do we do this to ourselves? And, even though I had a great time with him, and smiled the whole way home that night, the way I always do after seeing him, why do I feel like he didn't wake up with a smile the next day like I did? I know men and women are wired differently so why be surprised?!
Mr. Kawasaki has never been what I'm looking for in the forever sense of the world so why should I care if he is pining over me or not? It is because it is what we do. We talk big (I know I do) but we want to be wanted, loved, missed, etc...and while we can understand the male psyche (some of us more than others) we are still from Venus. So, instead of beating myself up for wanting him to call for a next date, I'm going to try to remind myself this was a 18 month flirtation that really does show me you never know what can happen and people may enter your life at a time that isn't right, but just may visit again later. Hey, I know it is pushing it on the philosophy side of things but it is what is making me smile tonight...that and a glass of Sterling Chardonnay.
The life of a single working mom of two active pre-teen kids is busy enough but you throw in volunteer work and then even the inkling of having a life of your own and really, you run out of day long before you run out of things to do. I have great intentions of being able to work off these extra 20 pounds, spend time with my girlfriends who are going through a time of transition and oh yeah, maybe having time to meet someone, let alone have a relationship with him. But, in all honesty, I wouldn’t trade this for being bored and depressed any day of the week so I’ll just up my Starbucks intake.
While my absence was not filled with crazy antics or hours of romance with Hottie McHottie from Hawaii Five-0, I did meet up with a starring actor in a few blog posts from the past. You used to know him as Cutie but I just can’t handle that name (nor could I then) so, in honor of his motorcycle, we’re calling him Mr. Kawasaki. I know, not very original, but it makes me feel less like I'm talking about either a toddler or one of those Clementine tangerines so it's all good!
Anyhow, one of my events for work had me in his facility a few weeks back, and since we'd been emailing again lately, we decided to meet for a quick hi. I was feeling somewhat cute (and not overly fat) so was game for a glass of wine at his place. And, if we all remember, he met several of the items on the list, he's hot, smart, spells all of his texts correctly, drives a truck, likes football, but was minus a few very important ones...he is 9 years younger than me which really covers a lot. But, it was just a glass of wine, right? Oh yeah...the wine led to a little more but that is when I realized I'm really way too self conscious about my body to ever enjoy being with someone again. So, if I'm not going to be comfortable, how am I ever going to believe someone really wants me?
I realize how that sounds, and know there are feminist self help gurus freaking out all over the globe about my lack of self esteem, ignorance about the true woman's body, the horrors of the Barbie generation on the pysche of women (or is that just what my mother would say?) but this is the way I feel. Logically I know Mr. Kawasaki is hot so, really, it isn't like he's desperate and is willing to be all over the first woman he sees. But, to the 42 year old woman who doesn't like her reflection in the mirror, guys just must like action. Why do we do this to ourselves? And, even though I had a great time with him, and smiled the whole way home that night, the way I always do after seeing him, why do I feel like he didn't wake up with a smile the next day like I did? I know men and women are wired differently so why be surprised?!
Mr. Kawasaki has never been what I'm looking for in the forever sense of the world so why should I care if he is pining over me or not? It is because it is what we do. We talk big (I know I do) but we want to be wanted, loved, missed, etc...and while we can understand the male psyche (some of us more than others) we are still from Venus. So, instead of beating myself up for wanting him to call for a next date, I'm going to try to remind myself this was a 18 month flirtation that really does show me you never know what can happen and people may enter your life at a time that isn't right, but just may visit again later. Hey, I know it is pushing it on the philosophy side of things but it is what is making me smile tonight...that and a glass of Sterling Chardonnay.
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