No, don't get excited, I didn't visit the biker bar again! I am talking about the actual wilderness, far from civilization...or at least 20 minutes away from the closest Starbucks so that counts as off the beaten path for me. The kids and I went camping! Yes, actual camping...not just a Motel 6. And, guess what, we had fun.
Obviously, we did not go alone; I'm adventurous, not crazy! My sister, brother-in-law and family were camping for the weekend on the lake where they go boating and asked us to join them. We'd already planned on spending the weekend on the water with them so really, why not?
Yes, normally, I'd have plenty of reasons why not: it's dirty, you are sleeping in the same area as moles, gophers, lizards, snakes, did I mention dirt, you eat, sleep and relax in the same 30 feet of space, you cook outside and oh yes, there's dirt. But, the minute I asked my kids if they wanted to go, their faces lit up and their sleeping bags were instantly in the car. And, again, in this new world of independent living, I am already up for a new adventure.
My sister and I share the same feelings when it comes to living in the dirt...the way we look at it, if God had wanted people to stay so primitive, He'd have never allowed for places like the Four Seasons to be built, or for indoor plumbing to be common place or for homes to have plush carpeting and hard wood floors. However, spending hours each day on the boat reminded me of how happy I am on the water, and how I know, one day I will be living with a view of a lake and a boat parked at the dock.
We had an amazing weekend of sun, fun and, of course, plenty of Corona and I realized once again that, while I do think I'm ready to meet someone to share in this type of fun (love of camping is not a prerequisite), I am also very content and capable of enjoying life on my own with my amazing kids and wonderful family. I also confirmed that camping is something I can do but don't need to prove my prowess on a regular basis.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
You've Got Mail ...2011 style
As we all know, I decided long ago to expand my dating horizons to other time zones (yes, I realize that means not waiting for the multimillionaire UPS guy to knock on my door but hey, baby steps please!). I have even gone so far as to concoct fun little fantasy stories with my best friend about the nice VA guy I'm going to meet and have the most amazing long distance romance with. Like I said, it is my fantasy, just let me have it, please.
And, to add to the plus column of this new plan, over the past few months I have actually encountered a couple instances where this multi-time zone difference love affair is actually flourishing. And, with the perks associated with an email/text/Skype dating schedule, this could truly be the ticket! Think about it: don't feel like changing out of your sweats? Don't! Just put on a cute top because only the top 1/2 of your body is in the picture anyhow. Really don't want to go out once you get home from work? Again, bonus...your date occurs over a glass of your favorite wine as he is miles away at his computer. Trying to juggle basketball schedules, church plays, work and the dishes? Text or email him at halftime. He'll be thrilled you were thinking of him in the middle of your crazy day. Now when you go to a party alone, you aren't the poor single girl, you are the one with the oh so romantic far away boyfriend. See? This whole long distance thing has my name written all over it. The benefits of having "that person" without the trouble of actually dating him.
Before you can admonish me for the lack of intimate contact, let's remember who you are talking to here, the last time I kissed someone obviously scared or scarred him for life so maybe the celibate lifestyle should be explored for a while. And, again, the long distance aspect means I would have months in between visits to work out and try to be bedroom worthy again. Also, he'd be so happy to be finally "getting some", he wouldn't care if I were soft in places I'm not supposed to be. With my witty personality, I'd be really hot via email!
So, I've decided Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan really did have something going with the whole email romance...now, just to find a smart cowboy with a laptop in his oversized truck. Hmm....
And, to add to the plus column of this new plan, over the past few months I have actually encountered a couple instances where this multi-time zone difference love affair is actually flourishing. And, with the perks associated with an email/text/Skype dating schedule, this could truly be the ticket! Think about it: don't feel like changing out of your sweats? Don't! Just put on a cute top because only the top 1/2 of your body is in the picture anyhow. Really don't want to go out once you get home from work? Again, bonus...your date occurs over a glass of your favorite wine as he is miles away at his computer. Trying to juggle basketball schedules, church plays, work and the dishes? Text or email him at halftime. He'll be thrilled you were thinking of him in the middle of your crazy day. Now when you go to a party alone, you aren't the poor single girl, you are the one with the oh so romantic far away boyfriend. See? This whole long distance thing has my name written all over it. The benefits of having "that person" without the trouble of actually dating him.
Before you can admonish me for the lack of intimate contact, let's remember who you are talking to here, the last time I kissed someone obviously scared or scarred him for life so maybe the celibate lifestyle should be explored for a while. And, again, the long distance aspect means I would have months in between visits to work out and try to be bedroom worthy again. Also, he'd be so happy to be finally "getting some", he wouldn't care if I were soft in places I'm not supposed to be. With my witty personality, I'd be really hot via email!
So, I've decided Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan really did have something going with the whole email romance...now, just to find a smart cowboy with a laptop in his oversized truck. Hmm....
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Didn't see this offered in my college catalog
"So, what did you do last night?" Usually that is a pretty innocuous question, asked by colleagues as you walk to get the daily Starbucks. And, more often than not my answer includes something about basketball, the dogs, maybe even a reality TV show. Truly, not stuff blogs are made of. However, today, if I were to receive that question, I’d probably blush and then start with “OH MY GOSH (yes, in all caps), you are not going to believe what I did last night!”
Since my transition from “in a relationship” to “single” (If I were to be a FB status updater) I have definitely found I really enjoy time with my friends quite a bit. I have an amazing group of girlfriends who could give the Sex in the City foursome a run for their money any day of the week so when one of them makes a request I try to accommodate whenever possible. And, more often than not, have quite the adventure.
I was chatting online with one such girlfriend the other day when she asked if I would go to this class with her. As she has been working very hard to lose weight I figured we might attend a nutrition seminar or training session – both of which I’d be all over at this point in my weight nightmare. She also is looking for a job so thought okay maybe it is a resume building seminar…I can be down with that. So, I checked my email as instructed and actually laughed out loud in my office when the class title came up Lola presents “Male Body Pleasures 101”. Really? Was this a joke? I haven’t been on an actual date in so long that to me male body pleasure meant standing too close to someone in line at Starbucks. But, after realizing she was serious, and after being married 23 years was looking for a little extra spark, I figured what the heck, Tuesday night TV is lame, I didn’t have the kids and really, why not?!
So, 3 women with good hair, nice pedicures and homes in the suburbs jumped into my friend's BMW and headed to Santa Cruz. If you are not from this area and are unfamiliar with Santa Cruz, it is a funky beach town where recycling old cans and bottles actually counts as an occupation and nice hair means you have more dreadlocks than your shopping cart toting cardboard box mate. But, it is also home to incredible restaurants, cute boutique shops and, of course, Camouflage, the upscale lingerie and "toy" store where the class was being held.
In we walk and down went my jaw. The room was packed! Granted, it wasn't an overly large room but nonetheless it was full...and, let's just go with very diverse. As we went around the room to introduce ourselves (really? Can't this be an anonymous visit...can't I just say I'm auditing the class like one does in college?) each person was to share their name and why they were in the class..."I want to be better in bed", "I want to spice up my marriage", "I have been coming to these classes for years and now I finally have a man to practice on" (who was she practicing on before? Wait, don't answer that as I seriously just saw a life size blow up Viking doll!), "I really want to get better at bj's". Oh my gosh!!! I'm guessing my answer of "Wait, I thought I was in a cooking class" didn't really go over well. But again, some of these women (and men!) were really trying to make their marriage exciting so I'm not judging.
Until....the 60 year old woman with the jean mini skirt and boy toy boyfriend asked how she could keep her teeth out of the way when she was giving blow jobs. How about "just take them out honey...they're dentures!" My bottom lip had teeth marks in it from my unsuccessful attempts to keep from laughing but I couldn't keep the giggles from escaping when the instructor (who made Granola Hippie seem like an understatement) reminded everyone this was an interactive class and she welcomed any and all questions and feel free to use the tactical examples spread throughout the room. Hold on! There are samples?! I don't want to picture most of these people in the room even thinking about sex; let alone actually seeing them handle the whole basket of love she had going on up there. And, really, please don't let them talk or ask questions...Aw man, someone just asked her how to put on a condom with her mouth. Okay, I'm now going to start cataloging my closet in my head...brown sweaters on one side...Really, I didn't go to that extreme but it definitely took all of my self control to not sigh out loud. Partly because I didn't want to be rude but also because I didn't want anyone to mistake my exhale as expression of interest over the masturbation sleeve she was passing around!
Of course, a 90 minute class really does end and no one even tried to force me to buy a toy or even the cute sundress I saw in the window. And, it really was amusing...with stories to tell, obviously. I am just chalking it up to new experiences I continue to have in my 40's of fun! And, who knows, maybe I even learned something.
Since my transition from “in a relationship” to “single” (If I were to be a FB status updater) I have definitely found I really enjoy time with my friends quite a bit. I have an amazing group of girlfriends who could give the Sex in the City foursome a run for their money any day of the week so when one of them makes a request I try to accommodate whenever possible. And, more often than not, have quite the adventure.
I was chatting online with one such girlfriend the other day when she asked if I would go to this class with her. As she has been working very hard to lose weight I figured we might attend a nutrition seminar or training session – both of which I’d be all over at this point in my weight nightmare. She also is looking for a job so thought okay maybe it is a resume building seminar…I can be down with that. So, I checked my email as instructed and actually laughed out loud in my office when the class title came up Lola presents “Male Body Pleasures 101”. Really? Was this a joke? I haven’t been on an actual date in so long that to me male body pleasure meant standing too close to someone in line at Starbucks. But, after realizing she was serious, and after being married 23 years was looking for a little extra spark, I figured what the heck, Tuesday night TV is lame, I didn’t have the kids and really, why not?!
So, 3 women with good hair, nice pedicures and homes in the suburbs jumped into my friend's BMW and headed to Santa Cruz. If you are not from this area and are unfamiliar with Santa Cruz, it is a funky beach town where recycling old cans and bottles actually counts as an occupation and nice hair means you have more dreadlocks than your shopping cart toting cardboard box mate. But, it is also home to incredible restaurants, cute boutique shops and, of course, Camouflage, the upscale lingerie and "toy" store where the class was being held.
In we walk and down went my jaw. The room was packed! Granted, it wasn't an overly large room but nonetheless it was full...and, let's just go with very diverse. As we went around the room to introduce ourselves (really? Can't this be an anonymous visit...can't I just say I'm auditing the class like one does in college?) each person was to share their name and why they were in the class..."I want to be better in bed", "I want to spice up my marriage", "I have been coming to these classes for years and now I finally have a man to practice on" (who was she practicing on before? Wait, don't answer that as I seriously just saw a life size blow up Viking doll!), "I really want to get better at bj's". Oh my gosh!!! I'm guessing my answer of "Wait, I thought I was in a cooking class" didn't really go over well. But again, some of these women (and men!) were really trying to make their marriage exciting so I'm not judging.
Until....the 60 year old woman with the jean mini skirt and boy toy boyfriend asked how she could keep her teeth out of the way when she was giving blow jobs. How about "just take them out honey...they're dentures!" My bottom lip had teeth marks in it from my unsuccessful attempts to keep from laughing but I couldn't keep the giggles from escaping when the instructor (who made Granola Hippie seem like an understatement) reminded everyone this was an interactive class and she welcomed any and all questions and feel free to use the tactical examples spread throughout the room. Hold on! There are samples?! I don't want to picture most of these people in the room even thinking about sex; let alone actually seeing them handle the whole basket of love she had going on up there. And, really, please don't let them talk or ask questions...Aw man, someone just asked her how to put on a condom with her mouth. Okay, I'm now going to start cataloging my closet in my head...brown sweaters on one side...Really, I didn't go to that extreme but it definitely took all of my self control to not sigh out loud. Partly because I didn't want to be rude but also because I didn't want anyone to mistake my exhale as expression of interest over the masturbation sleeve she was passing around!
Of course, a 90 minute class really does end and no one even tried to force me to buy a toy or even the cute sundress I saw in the window. And, it really was amusing...with stories to tell, obviously. I am just chalking it up to new experiences I continue to have in my 40's of fun! And, who knows, maybe I even learned something.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
My version of a bad trip...
If you have read this blog for any amount of time, you know alcohol is the only recreational drug I know from 1st hand experience (no, prescription medication like Xanax so doesn't count) but have often thought I may be missing out on something by going organic. Well, I thought that until tonight....
I make it a habit, almost a rule, that I do not go out on the weekends I have the kids as I've always felt like I don't get to spend enough time with them as it is so why cut into that time any more. However, I was feeling the need to get the cute on (I'll explain later) so changed my no RSVP to a yes to go to a restaurant/bar in town to hear a local band with a group of great friends. After arranging for a favorite friend to come hang out for a couple of hours I broke out the Vegas purchased white halter style tank top, black pants and high heels thinking that 1/2 the work of feeling good is looking good and off I went.
The band was great, the friends always a blast but my concern over the ability to meet someone who met my novel of requirements increased exponentially...heck, this evening the chances of meeting someone with all his teeth, didn't smoke weed with no mullet was going to be pushing it. Granted, we were listening to a band who played several 80's cover tunes so really the fact many of the patrons (using that term loosely) looked like they still lived in the 80's shouldn't have been surprising. The only thing missing was a contingent of fanny pack wearing, super cool looking Magnum, PI wannabees. Yes, it was that bad. Even the fan behind our table made the hair of my friend and I fly around like we were auditioning for a White Snake video (again, a band covered tonight). I definitely was not meeting any potential dinner partners...unless dinner consisted of magic brownies and a plate of potato skins. Ego boost it wasn't.
My ego isn't broken anyhow, just bruised. I try to avoid being a total chick by saying that I really can do casual with no expectations and I truly can. But that doesn't protect me from the 8th grade girl habit of saying your names together and picturing how much fun you'd have going to the prom (or in the case of a 40+ year old woman, boating)....even before there is even a hint of a first date. Yes, this is the roundabout way of saying I've heard nothing from Hot Electrician. I didn't even get a response to one of my famous breezy but quippy texts that I sent on Friday. Am I really not a catch? And, why is it that I seem to always be attracted to the guys who don't get what I catch I obviously think I am?
I knew this was a possibility when I kissed him...hello, I do remember the days of "Will he or won't he call?" and hated them then! But, really, at age 42 shouldn't I have at least outgrown them or is it like my occasional face break outs, that part of adolescence NEVER goes away? If so, I'm pissed. Clearasil works for the break-outs but what do I do about the school girl crush disappointment? I know...replay the "I Want to Rock and Roll All Night" KISS song that was covered and wonder if that is why my fellow bar goers tonight never left the 80's...everything was better with MTV and a Coke.
I make it a habit, almost a rule, that I do not go out on the weekends I have the kids as I've always felt like I don't get to spend enough time with them as it is so why cut into that time any more. However, I was feeling the need to get the cute on (I'll explain later) so changed my no RSVP to a yes to go to a restaurant/bar in town to hear a local band with a group of great friends. After arranging for a favorite friend to come hang out for a couple of hours I broke out the Vegas purchased white halter style tank top, black pants and high heels thinking that 1/2 the work of feeling good is looking good and off I went.
The band was great, the friends always a blast but my concern over the ability to meet someone who met my novel of requirements increased exponentially...heck, this evening the chances of meeting someone with all his teeth, didn't smoke weed with no mullet was going to be pushing it. Granted, we were listening to a band who played several 80's cover tunes so really the fact many of the patrons (using that term loosely) looked like they still lived in the 80's shouldn't have been surprising. The only thing missing was a contingent of fanny pack wearing, super cool looking Magnum, PI wannabees. Yes, it was that bad. Even the fan behind our table made the hair of my friend and I fly around like we were auditioning for a White Snake video (again, a band covered tonight). I definitely was not meeting any potential dinner partners...unless dinner consisted of magic brownies and a plate of potato skins. Ego boost it wasn't.
My ego isn't broken anyhow, just bruised. I try to avoid being a total chick by saying that I really can do casual with no expectations and I truly can. But that doesn't protect me from the 8th grade girl habit of saying your names together and picturing how much fun you'd have going to the prom (or in the case of a 40+ year old woman, boating)....even before there is even a hint of a first date. Yes, this is the roundabout way of saying I've heard nothing from Hot Electrician. I didn't even get a response to one of my famous breezy but quippy texts that I sent on Friday. Am I really not a catch? And, why is it that I seem to always be attracted to the guys who don't get what I catch I obviously think I am?
I knew this was a possibility when I kissed him...hello, I do remember the days of "Will he or won't he call?" and hated them then! But, really, at age 42 shouldn't I have at least outgrown them or is it like my occasional face break outs, that part of adolescence NEVER goes away? If so, I'm pissed. Clearasil works for the break-outs but what do I do about the school girl crush disappointment? I know...replay the "I Want to Rock and Roll All Night" KISS song that was covered and wonder if that is why my fellow bar goers tonight never left the 80's...everything was better with MTV and a Coke.
Monday, July 4, 2011
A little fireworks of my own...
What is about pool parties that make you feel like a 15 year old again? First, you are nervous about what you look like in a bathing suit (think 40+ year old mom who doesn't look like Courtney Cox) and you have me. But then the water feels good, the games of chicken start and you are laughing as you do relay races with the other moms who look just like you! It couldn't have been a more fun day.
Of course, I will be honest and say, some of the excitement didn't come from the fact it was a celebration of our nation's independence but more from the fact that 365 days to the date later from the first few texts telling me I really ought to meet and hang out with Mr. Hot Electrician, we both were feeling the same flirty feelings at the same time.
What started out as an innocent game of chicken (as I mentioned above) eventually led to a kiss (yes, I realize I'm 42 and a kiss shouldn't mean that much). A kiss that, as lame as this sounds, was actually worth the year long, multiple misses, wait. But, then again, if we all remember back to our teenage years, kisses in a pool also seem more exciting somehow.
Now, I'm not expecting anything to come of this...hello, it took us a major league baseball season, an NFL season, an NBA season and several holidays to even get us to this point. And really, the dilemma is getting Mr. Hot Electrician to understand that I'm not looking for Mr. Forever right now...if it happened, great...but I am just more interested in someone fun to hang out with when I don't have the kids, a few more of those kisses (and heck, more wouldn't be bad either) but not expecting us to create the Brady Bunch any time soon.
Guys have it easy where that is concerned. Most women think that is their motive from the beginning so already expect nothing but if a woman comes across saying she just wants casual, guys are immediately suspect. They think we are either trying to trick them with our feigned indifference or we must be a slut then. And, really, it is neither where I am concerned. I just know I've made one too many mistakes in the male choice department so I am taking my time.
So, while I am not sure I will be seeing any other sparks caused by Mr. Hot E (and, yes he is hot!), at least I can be happy with the knowledge I do still have "it" a little and that my instincts (and those of our friends) weren't wrong...we were kind of good together.
Of course, I will be honest and say, some of the excitement didn't come from the fact it was a celebration of our nation's independence but more from the fact that 365 days to the date later from the first few texts telling me I really ought to meet and hang out with Mr. Hot Electrician, we both were feeling the same flirty feelings at the same time.
What started out as an innocent game of chicken (as I mentioned above) eventually led to a kiss (yes, I realize I'm 42 and a kiss shouldn't mean that much). A kiss that, as lame as this sounds, was actually worth the year long, multiple misses, wait. But, then again, if we all remember back to our teenage years, kisses in a pool also seem more exciting somehow.
Now, I'm not expecting anything to come of this...hello, it took us a major league baseball season, an NFL season, an NBA season and several holidays to even get us to this point. And really, the dilemma is getting Mr. Hot Electrician to understand that I'm not looking for Mr. Forever right now...if it happened, great...but I am just more interested in someone fun to hang out with when I don't have the kids, a few more of those kisses (and heck, more wouldn't be bad either) but not expecting us to create the Brady Bunch any time soon.
Guys have it easy where that is concerned. Most women think that is their motive from the beginning so already expect nothing but if a woman comes across saying she just wants casual, guys are immediately suspect. They think we are either trying to trick them with our feigned indifference or we must be a slut then. And, really, it is neither where I am concerned. I just know I've made one too many mistakes in the male choice department so I am taking my time.
So, while I am not sure I will be seeing any other sparks caused by Mr. Hot E (and, yes he is hot!), at least I can be happy with the knowledge I do still have "it" a little and that my instincts (and those of our friends) weren't wrong...we were kind of good together.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
If it is good enough for the AARP it is good enough for me...
On my 35th birthday (just a few years ago), I received a letter announcing in big bold letters that in 15 years I'd be eligible for all kinds of discounts as an AARP member. I was floored...AARP? Wasn't that for old people? I mean, I celebrated my 35th by getting my belly button pierced (granted, my 35th year was all kinds of transition period) so there was no way I was even thinking about being 50! But fast forward a few years, one divorce and one major emotional breakup and 50 isn't looking too bad anymore. Not me turning 50! No, that still is a LONG way off, but I have been rethinking the 50 year old man as a possibility.
Think about it, a 50 year old man should be done with his mid life breakdown and either has the Porsche as his weekend car or sold it all together for the much more comfortable Escalade or Mercedes sedan (yes, my 50 year old is financially comfortable). He has been through his divorce and has been able to make it on his own. He either has teen agers or started early and has young adult children but is still youthful enough to appreciate my little angels. And, probably most importantly, I'm still looking like a young (well, younger) hottie (okay, cutie) to him. According to my new favorite colleague at work (she's always been amazing but with this comment, to the top of the list...haha), I'm a good looking 42...so really, shouldn't that mean to a 50 year old man, I am a total catch?!
I'm constantly concerned that my legs aren't firm enough, my arms aren't toned enough, my stomach and booty certainly not small enough to compete with the 35 year olds out there so maybe I need to increase my bottom and top age limits on my list. The 35 year old guys are looking at the 29 year old girls, the 40 year old men checking out the young 30 yr old women so really, I do think the sliding scale may need to slide just a bit.
Granted, I did come to this realization in a somewhat biased situation. I was checking out (hey, I'm honest) the men after our annual golf tournament yesterday as they enjoyed a 19th hole beverage or two and really, guys just look good in golf wear. The shorts, polo and baseball hat, topped off with sun kissed skin and the smile that comes with a day on the golf course just combines to make a nice package. So, in a room full of well off, financially secure, tanned golfing guys, I probably was going to find one or two pretty attractive older men. Of course, those men also had the gold ring on their left hand so no go there. But, it did get me to thinking, maybe 50 is a golden year for a reason.
So, next time I get my reminder for the upcoming AARP specials, I may just check out their singles options. Hey...it couldn't hurt.
Think about it, a 50 year old man should be done with his mid life breakdown and either has the Porsche as his weekend car or sold it all together for the much more comfortable Escalade or Mercedes sedan (yes, my 50 year old is financially comfortable). He has been through his divorce and has been able to make it on his own. He either has teen agers or started early and has young adult children but is still youthful enough to appreciate my little angels. And, probably most importantly, I'm still looking like a young (well, younger) hottie (okay, cutie) to him. According to my new favorite colleague at work (she's always been amazing but with this comment, to the top of the list...haha), I'm a good looking 42...so really, shouldn't that mean to a 50 year old man, I am a total catch?!
I'm constantly concerned that my legs aren't firm enough, my arms aren't toned enough, my stomach and booty certainly not small enough to compete with the 35 year olds out there so maybe I need to increase my bottom and top age limits on my list. The 35 year old guys are looking at the 29 year old girls, the 40 year old men checking out the young 30 yr old women so really, I do think the sliding scale may need to slide just a bit.
Granted, I did come to this realization in a somewhat biased situation. I was checking out (hey, I'm honest) the men after our annual golf tournament yesterday as they enjoyed a 19th hole beverage or two and really, guys just look good in golf wear. The shorts, polo and baseball hat, topped off with sun kissed skin and the smile that comes with a day on the golf course just combines to make a nice package. So, in a room full of well off, financially secure, tanned golfing guys, I probably was going to find one or two pretty attractive older men. Of course, those men also had the gold ring on their left hand so no go there. But, it did get me to thinking, maybe 50 is a golden year for a reason.
So, next time I get my reminder for the upcoming AARP specials, I may just check out their singles options. Hey...it couldn't hurt.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Pause for a Commercial Break
Yes, we've established my life isn't all that bad...I have a good job, my kids are pretty darned amazing, my hairdresser works hard to cover the gray that is sneaking (okay, jumping through) my roots, and I live in CA (not Huntington Beach, CA but the Golden State, nonetheless), so really, why am I pausing that incredible life for a complaint commercial? The answer is simple...I went to Santana Row for lunch!
Okay, for those of you not familiar with the Silicon Valley Bay Area, Santana Row is the shopping center/restaurant Mecca of the Beautiful People. It is Northern CA's answer to Rodeo Drive...just without the Hollywood stars. Granted, at lunchtime on a Tuesday there are plenty of "normal" people as well, but more often than not, there is a large contingent of the lounging pretty people. I'm not exactly sure what they do for a living that allows them to spend hours just sitting by the fountain waiting for the world to notice them. They aren't reading or working frantically on their iPad...no they are just enjoying the sunshine and a no fat, no sugar, no nothing iced something from Starbucks...while the rest of us pretend to live a life of leisure between meetings and work at the office.
Yes, believe me, I know I would be bored if I didn't have a full life...but, at this point in time, I'm pretty sure I could find a way to occupy my hours that didn't involve sitting in an office. I could write more for you guys...obviously that is a very lucrative profession. I'm not pining for a millionaire to sweep me off my feet (while of course I wouldn't turn that down...) as I know the chances of that are slim, but really, how do these people exist? Obviously I wasn't smart enough to marry a rich guy the first time around so I could be a wealthy divorcee, and we know the exodus from Alex's life cost me money so that certainly didn't help matters. So, I don't see me joining the ranks of the Relaxing (non-eating...hello, they weigh like 50 pounds!) Row-ers any time soon.
Again, this is just a small break from my normal disgustingly cheerful self to wonder what class I missed in school that would have led to that lifestyle. Now, of course I know I could fix these moments of envy by just not going to Santana Row but then, what is the fun in that?!
Okay, for those of you not familiar with the Silicon Valley Bay Area, Santana Row is the shopping center/restaurant Mecca of the Beautiful People. It is Northern CA's answer to Rodeo Drive...just without the Hollywood stars. Granted, at lunchtime on a Tuesday there are plenty of "normal" people as well, but more often than not, there is a large contingent of the lounging pretty people. I'm not exactly sure what they do for a living that allows them to spend hours just sitting by the fountain waiting for the world to notice them. They aren't reading or working frantically on their iPad...no they are just enjoying the sunshine and a no fat, no sugar, no nothing iced something from Starbucks...while the rest of us pretend to live a life of leisure between meetings and work at the office.
Yes, believe me, I know I would be bored if I didn't have a full life...but, at this point in time, I'm pretty sure I could find a way to occupy my hours that didn't involve sitting in an office. I could write more for you guys...obviously that is a very lucrative profession. I'm not pining for a millionaire to sweep me off my feet (while of course I wouldn't turn that down...) as I know the chances of that are slim, but really, how do these people exist? Obviously I wasn't smart enough to marry a rich guy the first time around so I could be a wealthy divorcee, and we know the exodus from Alex's life cost me money so that certainly didn't help matters. So, I don't see me joining the ranks of the Relaxing (non-eating...hello, they weigh like 50 pounds!) Row-ers any time soon.
Again, this is just a small break from my normal disgustingly cheerful self to wonder what class I missed in school that would have led to that lifestyle. Now, of course I know I could fix these moments of envy by just not going to Santana Row but then, what is the fun in that?!
Sunday, June 19, 2011
It is all about perspective...
I was commenting to a very wise woman the other day that this is not where I expected to be at this point in my life...42 years old, single mother of 2, with a relatively non-existent savings account and she pointed out that really, many people look at my day to day activities and wish they were me. I stopped to think and realized of course she was right. Her pearls of wisdom didn't magically make my bank account grow or for my version of Jake Perry from "Sweet Home Alabama" show up on my doorstep but it did make me, again, grateful for the life I am leading.
Of course, I do have to throw in the caveat that the wise woman referenced above happened to be Alex's mom who I spent a very enjoyable evening/day with at a local county fair. I mean, who doesn't spend the day rocking out to soul music with the mom of their ex. Hello, this is the 21st century and it is what we do! Actually, it is very special to me that I did not lose that family when my relationship with Alex took a major detour. If you have read this blog at all over the past year, you know I don't like to lose people and need to be liked...it is double when it comes to those involved in my relationships. Yes, I realize I'm a great case for therapy...and have sat on many a couch.
Anyhow, she and I, along with a high school friend of hers, danced, sang and kicked off a non stop weekend for me. After that adventure I volunteered at the snack shack for a high school dance for our local basketball program. Oh my gosh....thank goodness I am one, not in high school anymore and, two, that neither of my kids are yet. That place was crazy...since when did Victoria's Secret type bras become appropriate dance wear for the under 18 set? Did their mothers see them leave the house like that?! Yikes! I came home feeling very old but happy that dating for me didn't involve ear blasting pump music and string bikinis.
I then made myself get cuted up for a Saturday afternoon BBQ with friends and a solo appearance at a local theater company owned by my dear friends. Going stag to events is not my favorite activity as I'd much rather have a +one but I also refuse to stop living my life because I am not sharing my queen size bed with males that don't have 4 legs and fur. I also know that whoever I do meet is going to need to fit into the life I have made for myself because I really kind of like it.
So, again, chalk one up for steps toward improvement. I would have loved to have been spending this Father's Day weekend with my dad or celebrating the fatherhood traits of someone I am with, but I also didn't sit home, mope and eat a bag of jelly beans. Yes, I guess my life is one that other's wouldn't mind having.
Of course, I do have to throw in the caveat that the wise woman referenced above happened to be Alex's mom who I spent a very enjoyable evening/day with at a local county fair. I mean, who doesn't spend the day rocking out to soul music with the mom of their ex. Hello, this is the 21st century and it is what we do! Actually, it is very special to me that I did not lose that family when my relationship with Alex took a major detour. If you have read this blog at all over the past year, you know I don't like to lose people and need to be liked...it is double when it comes to those involved in my relationships. Yes, I realize I'm a great case for therapy...and have sat on many a couch.
Anyhow, she and I, along with a high school friend of hers, danced, sang and kicked off a non stop weekend for me. After that adventure I volunteered at the snack shack for a high school dance for our local basketball program. Oh my gosh....thank goodness I am one, not in high school anymore and, two, that neither of my kids are yet. That place was crazy...since when did Victoria's Secret type bras become appropriate dance wear for the under 18 set? Did their mothers see them leave the house like that?! Yikes! I came home feeling very old but happy that dating for me didn't involve ear blasting pump music and string bikinis.
I then made myself get cuted up for a Saturday afternoon BBQ with friends and a solo appearance at a local theater company owned by my dear friends. Going stag to events is not my favorite activity as I'd much rather have a +one but I also refuse to stop living my life because I am not sharing my queen size bed with males that don't have 4 legs and fur. I also know that whoever I do meet is going to need to fit into the life I have made for myself because I really kind of like it.
So, again, chalk one up for steps toward improvement. I would have loved to have been spending this Father's Day weekend with my dad or celebrating the fatherhood traits of someone I am with, but I also didn't sit home, mope and eat a bag of jelly beans. Yes, I guess my life is one that other's wouldn't mind having.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Hot in....?
I have discovered a new favorite show. The acting is less than stellar, there are no hot men on it and it is on a channel I've never heard of. However, none of that matters as it is the first show I've found that captures what I picture every time I think of leaving California and starting over. Hot in Cleveland stars Valerie Bertinelli, Betty White, the English actress from Frasier and the woman I always confuse with Christine Baranksi. You can see from that sentence why I've never been asked to be a TV critic. But, again, I love it!
Valerie Bertinelli is an adorable 40+ recent divorcee who plans a trip to Paris with her 2 best friends...all LA women with CA lifestyles. After their plane makes an emergency landing in, of all places, Cleveland, they find themselves in typical Midwestern bar looking for a much needed drink and a side of Valium, I'm sure. However, when they walk in they realize they have entered the Twilight Zone where women over 25 and larger than a size 2 are considered hot and where men actually are looking for women, not over aged Barbie dolls. It is my idea of paradise.
Silicon Valley reality is not normal for the rest of the country...60 year old ranch style homes should never go for $750,000...cities should not host Cougar Conventions that are featured on the evening news and I shouldn't fall into the below moderate income level when I'm closer to the $100,000 mark than to the $50,000 mark (not much closer but still). Now I'm not sure I really want to be in Cleveland...I've been to Ohio and was plenty ready to leave Ohio...but the sentiment is what I wrote about a couple of days ago...I think I'm hot elsewhere. Again, okay, hot maybe an overstatement, but I'd definitely be on the B+ list at any bar in middle America.
I'm not sure this argument is going to fly with the former husband when I tell him why he really needs to get a job on the opposite coast. "Well, you see, I'm hotter on the East Coast than I am on the West Coast"...but at least it gives me hope. And, in the meantime, I just need to plan more visits outside of Silicone based Silicon Valley and hang out in the real world.
So, if you haven't tuned into TV Land and discovered the cheesiest show on TV these days, check it out...It is my new inspiration.
Valerie Bertinelli is an adorable 40+ recent divorcee who plans a trip to Paris with her 2 best friends...all LA women with CA lifestyles. After their plane makes an emergency landing in, of all places, Cleveland, they find themselves in typical Midwestern bar looking for a much needed drink and a side of Valium, I'm sure. However, when they walk in they realize they have entered the Twilight Zone where women over 25 and larger than a size 2 are considered hot and where men actually are looking for women, not over aged Barbie dolls. It is my idea of paradise.
Silicon Valley reality is not normal for the rest of the country...60 year old ranch style homes should never go for $750,000...cities should not host Cougar Conventions that are featured on the evening news and I shouldn't fall into the below moderate income level when I'm closer to the $100,000 mark than to the $50,000 mark (not much closer but still). Now I'm not sure I really want to be in Cleveland...I've been to Ohio and was plenty ready to leave Ohio...but the sentiment is what I wrote about a couple of days ago...I think I'm hot elsewhere. Again, okay, hot maybe an overstatement, but I'd definitely be on the B+ list at any bar in middle America.
I'm not sure this argument is going to fly with the former husband when I tell him why he really needs to get a job on the opposite coast. "Well, you see, I'm hotter on the East Coast than I am on the West Coast"...but at least it gives me hope. And, in the meantime, I just need to plan more visits outside of Silicone based Silicon Valley and hang out in the real world.
So, if you haven't tuned into TV Land and discovered the cheesiest show on TV these days, check it out...It is my new inspiration.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Emotional Traffic
A few amazing things came out of that summer escape 2 years ago...a new found sense of independence, less of a dependence on Tagamet, really cool bedroom furniture and a great annual tradition. Some friends from a radio station gave me two tickets to see Kenny Chesney at PacBell Park. The timing could not have been better. The mad rush of throwing everything I owned in plastic garbage bags had worn off and I had just been left with a sense of loss as to where I was going. So, I called my sister and off we went for a great night of homegrown, soul healing country music. We decided that night we needed to do that more often. Last year was Brad Paisley & Darius Rucker and this year, to celebrate her impending 40th, off we went to Tim McGraw's Emotional Traffic tour. Considering the concert fell on the anniversary of the move, I couldn't think of a better way to mark the occasion.
Of course, knowing Tim McGraw has ALWAYS been at the top of my "list" (you know the list of celebrities you are allowed to be with if you ever had the opportunity) helps understand the excitement I had leading up to the night. Yes, I know this was about my sister and her 4th decade celebration, but hello??? this is Tim McGraw we're talking about. So, while I did have to battle a severe bout of depression after trying on jeans for the occasion, I was ready to go in boots, Levis and a really cute white top...dressed to impress (okay, not impress but at least garner a passing glance).
And, while the show was absolutely phenomenal and my sister and I had another great evening full of singing, dancing and fabulous memories, the evening also had a nice little side effect. I was admired...no, really, I was. From the adorable but tipsy 6'4" young cowboy asking if I wanted an escort into the park to the VIP tent attendant saying his night was brightened by our smiles to, finally, the random stranger stopping me to tell me I looked good in white, the unintended outcome was a much needed ego boost. No, the sexy, mature, multimillion dollar man of my dreams didn't ask for my number nor did I leave there with no qualms about the future but I did fall asleep last night thinking at least there is hope.
Emotional traffic seemed like the perfect title for my life right now. My highways are constantly filled with cars of happiness being caught up in jams of concern, sadness, nostalgia and worry about the future. And, as I feel with traffic jams themselves, if I just give it a little time, take an extra breath and turn up the music on the radio, it will all clear soon enough and I'll be moving again.
Of course, knowing Tim McGraw has ALWAYS been at the top of my "list" (you know the list of celebrities you are allowed to be with if you ever had the opportunity) helps understand the excitement I had leading up to the night. Yes, I know this was about my sister and her 4th decade celebration, but hello??? this is Tim McGraw we're talking about. So, while I did have to battle a severe bout of depression after trying on jeans for the occasion, I was ready to go in boots, Levis and a really cute white top...dressed to impress (okay, not impress but at least garner a passing glance).
And, while the show was absolutely phenomenal and my sister and I had another great evening full of singing, dancing and fabulous memories, the evening also had a nice little side effect. I was admired...no, really, I was. From the adorable but tipsy 6'4" young cowboy asking if I wanted an escort into the park to the VIP tent attendant saying his night was brightened by our smiles to, finally, the random stranger stopping me to tell me I looked good in white, the unintended outcome was a much needed ego boost. No, the sexy, mature, multimillion dollar man of my dreams didn't ask for my number nor did I leave there with no qualms about the future but I did fall asleep last night thinking at least there is hope.
Emotional traffic seemed like the perfect title for my life right now. My highways are constantly filled with cars of happiness being caught up in jams of concern, sadness, nostalgia and worry about the future. And, as I feel with traffic jams themselves, if I just give it a little time, take an extra breath and turn up the music on the radio, it will all clear soon enough and I'll be moving again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)