Of course we all remember the iconic series, Father Knows Best and I don't want anyone to think I've hit my head and now believe my mother makes sense, but for this blog, we are going to consider her the exception and not the rule. For today's lesson, it is the moms who know what they are talking about and really, their sons need to listen! And, I'm also going to assume the premise of this blog to be true when it comes time for my son to date...which at age 12 will be years from now!!! Hey, it is again my fantasy world so let me live it.
I was hit with one my mind blowing epiphanies again this past weekend...okay, they blow no one's mind but I did find it at least blog worthy. As I was reviewing my FB friends list, and thinking about who and where I spend a lot of my time, I realized I am friends with the mothers of almost every guy I've ever seriously dated (or in one case want to date)...and wondered what exactly does that mean? Does it mean that I am the type of woman moms want to their sons to end up with? Or, does it mean I've spent way too many years trying to impress the wrong person? (Hey, their dads like me too...I mean the man himself!) Or, finally, does it mean I'm attracted to men who just can't figure out what they want and definitely don't want to date the woman their mom likes? Maybe if I can figure out the reason, I will be able to complete the dating trifecta and have the whole family actually like me.
A friend and reader theorized a few weeks ago that "nice guys don't finish last" as they actually just date the wrong women and end up feeling that way. And, maybe that is all related. Maybe the nice guys are dating the needy women...the ones who are like a train wreck just waiting to happen...the ones the mothers definitely don't like...because they want to feel needed...and because they certainly don't want to feel like they are pleasing their moms. Then, when they've helped pick these women up, get them settled and stop them from derailing, the women don't need them anymore and they are off to the next exciting adventure...leaving the nice guys feeling like they've just gone 4 quarters with the New Orleans Saints defensive line.
Add to that the fact most of us nice, normal, perfect women (ahem, I mean me) are too busy pining over, being attracted to, planning fantasy weddings (wait, did I actually type that) with the wrong guy...or the wrong guy for right now...even if their moms really do like us...and you have the formula for several hours of therapy on the couch.
My task, for when I decide I'm really ready to date, is to differentiate between the guys who want to find the woman who actually complements the family game night table vs. the ones who are looking to create shock value when they bring home their latest stiletto wearing, open mouth gum chewing, personality lacking flavor of the week...Hey, just generalizing here.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Love through the ages...
My life has turned into one of those Ladies Home Journal Articles, the ones that say "How to find love, lose weight, be a good mom, etc...when you are in your 20's, 30's or 40's". But this edition is more like "How to manage your life when you are newly separated, a divorcee pro or a happily married woman who has spent more years with her husband than without" as that describes our version of the 3 Stooges. And, what is even more amazing to me is that while our individual circumstances are very different, the emotions we experience and the insecurities we harbor are very similar. Is this where we thought we'd be in our lives? My butt used to be hot, now it is just a hot mess. How am I going to find, want or keep a man when my dress size now is coming close to doubling my shoe size? Where exactly does all the money go each month? And, really, when do you just decide to be happy with who and what you are at any given time?
As I thought about our latest adventure out in the real world (the world that exists outside of my one friend's kitchen, where we drink wine, laugh and our problems don't seem quite so overwhelming) I was reminded once again that everyone has issues, and really, and this makes me seem incredibly selfish, my issues are truly the smallest of them all. Phew! I've gone from being the "oh, poor thing", cry at the drop of a hat, fragile walking wounded to just the one more dog away from crazy dog lady wandering the aisles of Safeway when she gets older...and, believe me, that is an improvement.
No, now, I can be the supportive friend: the one who talks the newly separated one off the proverbial ledge where she hovers between insane anger and utter despair. Reminding her that yes, there is life out there and by taking each day, one step at a time, you make it through 24 hours, and then 48 and then a week and amazingly, one day you will be on the other side, serving as the rock for her friend that will be going through the same thing.
I can also now be the friend who plays Wing Man to her married friend's subtle reminder to the not so subtle unhappily married housewife that her husband is off limits. This friend, who is truly, without a doubt, one of the most naturally beautiful women ever...but that doesn't protect her from wondering how susceptible might any husband be to the overt appreciation and flirting by someone other than his wife of 25+ years. Playing a role in the type of game play that makes 4 star generals jealous proved once again that the dumbest move a person ever makes is to cross a smart woman. Without saying a direct word or even using a threatening tone of voice, the message is relayed loud and clear "He is married. He is happy and he is VERY well taken care of". And then, serving as the friend that assures her life is the way it is supposed to be for her...that while the world around her seems to be collapsing with friends and family members filing through family law offices like the turnstile at Wal-Mart...she actually has what works...a husband who loves her, and the common sense to remind him of that from time to time.
Maybe life isn't supposed to be easy. If it were, we'd all become complacent and not appreciate the people and experiences that make us smile every day. While I hate that any of my friends have to experience grief, sadness, or even uncertainty, those challenges are what keep us getting up each morning, ready to take on the day. Granted, that day will always start at Starbucks and end with a glass of wine, but hey, whatever it takes to get you through...that, and a great group of girlfriends!
As I thought about our latest adventure out in the real world (the world that exists outside of my one friend's kitchen, where we drink wine, laugh and our problems don't seem quite so overwhelming) I was reminded once again that everyone has issues, and really, and this makes me seem incredibly selfish, my issues are truly the smallest of them all. Phew! I've gone from being the "oh, poor thing", cry at the drop of a hat, fragile walking wounded to just the one more dog away from crazy dog lady wandering the aisles of Safeway when she gets older...and, believe me, that is an improvement.
No, now, I can be the supportive friend: the one who talks the newly separated one off the proverbial ledge where she hovers between insane anger and utter despair. Reminding her that yes, there is life out there and by taking each day, one step at a time, you make it through 24 hours, and then 48 and then a week and amazingly, one day you will be on the other side, serving as the rock for her friend that will be going through the same thing.
I can also now be the friend who plays Wing Man to her married friend's subtle reminder to the not so subtle unhappily married housewife that her husband is off limits. This friend, who is truly, without a doubt, one of the most naturally beautiful women ever...but that doesn't protect her from wondering how susceptible might any husband be to the overt appreciation and flirting by someone other than his wife of 25+ years. Playing a role in the type of game play that makes 4 star generals jealous proved once again that the dumbest move a person ever makes is to cross a smart woman. Without saying a direct word or even using a threatening tone of voice, the message is relayed loud and clear "He is married. He is happy and he is VERY well taken care of". And then, serving as the friend that assures her life is the way it is supposed to be for her...that while the world around her seems to be collapsing with friends and family members filing through family law offices like the turnstile at Wal-Mart...she actually has what works...a husband who loves her, and the common sense to remind him of that from time to time.
Maybe life isn't supposed to be easy. If it were, we'd all become complacent and not appreciate the people and experiences that make us smile every day. While I hate that any of my friends have to experience grief, sadness, or even uncertainty, those challenges are what keep us getting up each morning, ready to take on the day. Granted, that day will always start at Starbucks and end with a glass of wine, but hey, whatever it takes to get you through...that, and a great group of girlfriends!
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Something borrowed, something blue, something in a flask...
There’s some famous quote from some even more famous movie (whose title is escaping me right now…must not have had my fill of brain food, yet…aka jelly beans) that goes something like “I try to get out but they keep pulling me back in”…Oh yeah, The Godfather. And, while I can’t even begin to compare my former husband’s family to the Italian mafia, the sentiment is actually very real right now.
While my FH and I are divorced, I didn’t divorce his family and am still very close to them (much to the ever growing chagrin of the FH GF). By the same token, however, my FH is also pretty tight with members of my family so the ball goes both ways. Of course, I am much more sane and level headed than the Amazon so while I may drink more when he is at a get together (heck, I drink at those anyhow so what’s new?!) I do know he is still the father of my children so I need to suck it up! And, whenever she’s around, there is a whole new level of comedy so really, bring her whenever he wants!
My brother-in-law (brother of FH) got married this past weekend so let’s just suffice it to say, every envelope of sanity was pushed to its extreme limits. The couple of the day has waited a very long time to find one another (he is 39, she is 35) so the level of special was incredibly high. There would be no spotlight stealing at this wedding! However, drama and the Amazon GF seem to go hand in hand so we were all a little cautious. Did I mention the wedding reception was going to be relatively dry (as was the rehearsal dinner!)?
While I wasn’t in the wedding, both of my kids were, and I was in charge of the favors, had the bride to be stay at my house the night before the wedding and was the locale for the family girls getting ready day of…let’s just say I was involved. I realize, to the average reader, that may seem a bit extreme, well…who am I kidding…that is nuts! But, it is the way it is. I totally get that the Amazon GF may not like my involvement but since it doesn’t seem to be changing and well, killing me wouldn’t really help her cause, she just needs to deal.
Her version of dealing, of course, means coming to the wedding in a thigh high bright red, one sleeved dress with 5 inch stiletto rhinestone encrusted pumps and an attitude to match. I should mention here that the wedding was at 1:00 in a church…with the reception…in a church. And, the colors of the wedding were blue…very sedate blue…Of course, the differences between my Barbie Blond hair and classy blue paisley dress and Amazon’s ready for an evening in Vegas ensemble were very evident as we sat in the front row (by assignment) just 3 people apart. For those who missed it, the fact we were at the reserved family table together at the front of the room, they got a second opportunity to ogle at the zoo characters known as the 1st wife and the wanna be wife.
My cheek hurt from biting it, my hands were sore from clenching and my brain was fried trying to make sense of my life…but the wedding was beautiful, my little groomsmen and ring attendant had an amazing time and my future former sister-in-law had the day dreams are made of. And, I once again, was able to show myself and the world (or the small portion we inhabit) that I really am a class act.
While my FH and I are divorced, I didn’t divorce his family and am still very close to them (much to the ever growing chagrin of the FH GF). By the same token, however, my FH is also pretty tight with members of my family so the ball goes both ways. Of course, I am much more sane and level headed than the Amazon so while I may drink more when he is at a get together (heck, I drink at those anyhow so what’s new?!) I do know he is still the father of my children so I need to suck it up! And, whenever she’s around, there is a whole new level of comedy so really, bring her whenever he wants!
My brother-in-law (brother of FH) got married this past weekend so let’s just suffice it to say, every envelope of sanity was pushed to its extreme limits. The couple of the day has waited a very long time to find one another (he is 39, she is 35) so the level of special was incredibly high. There would be no spotlight stealing at this wedding! However, drama and the Amazon GF seem to go hand in hand so we were all a little cautious. Did I mention the wedding reception was going to be relatively dry (as was the rehearsal dinner!)?
While I wasn’t in the wedding, both of my kids were, and I was in charge of the favors, had the bride to be stay at my house the night before the wedding and was the locale for the family girls getting ready day of…let’s just say I was involved. I realize, to the average reader, that may seem a bit extreme, well…who am I kidding…that is nuts! But, it is the way it is. I totally get that the Amazon GF may not like my involvement but since it doesn’t seem to be changing and well, killing me wouldn’t really help her cause, she just needs to deal.
Her version of dealing, of course, means coming to the wedding in a thigh high bright red, one sleeved dress with 5 inch stiletto rhinestone encrusted pumps and an attitude to match. I should mention here that the wedding was at 1:00 in a church…with the reception…in a church. And, the colors of the wedding were blue…very sedate blue…Of course, the differences between my Barbie Blond hair and classy blue paisley dress and Amazon’s ready for an evening in Vegas ensemble were very evident as we sat in the front row (by assignment) just 3 people apart. For those who missed it, the fact we were at the reserved family table together at the front of the room, they got a second opportunity to ogle at the zoo characters known as the 1st wife and the wanna be wife.
My cheek hurt from biting it, my hands were sore from clenching and my brain was fried trying to make sense of my life…but the wedding was beautiful, my little groomsmen and ring attendant had an amazing time and my future former sister-in-law had the day dreams are made of. And, I once again, was able to show myself and the world (or the small portion we inhabit) that I really am a class act.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Save a horse, ride a cowboy...
I have always loved that Big & Rich Song..it combines the fun of down home country music with sex appeal...well, that is if you happen to be into cowboys, which I am. Or at least I thought I was, until my latest life in the fast lane adventure. And, to be honest, it isn't cowboys I am not infatuated with anymore but aging wanna be cowboys who I believe happen to be friends with Tank (my 1st Sugar Daddy offer). Yes, there is a story here...of course there is!
Going through a separation is hard for anyone, believe me, I know, and going through one you didn't want nor ever expect is even harder. So, when a good friend recently found herself in this situation, we all rallied and immediately fell into good girlfriend mode...which is code for "whatever she wants, whenever she needs it, however crazy it sounds..." Okay, well, maybe there is a limit to the level of crazy but you know what I mean...she shouldn't sit home and obsess about why life has handed her this hand right now and who better to help her occupy her time than her fun friends?
Weekends are always tough, especially when your kids have plans and you are contemplating a Friday night in front of the TV, watching too gorgeous for words couples fawn all over each other while you, yourself, are alone, eating potato chips right out of the bag...and then hating yourself for the grease stain you now have on your t-shirt and the extra 30 minutes you'll have to work out tomorrow to make up for your affair with the Ruffles. It is one's responsibility as a girlfriend to stage the intervention before the next outing is to the mall to buy bigger sizes with elastic waist bands. And, really, a night of country music in our area's cowboy heaven sounded good to me...so we were off.
As we were greeted by a bar full of Jack Daniels and an arena housing a mechanical bull, I figured this night could be both very entertaining and exactly what the doctor ordered...for both of us! Since I was driving, I had my one Jack & Diet early in the evening and did think, that while the bull was my 1st step to the other side during my transition from Alex, this may not be the best idea for someone who has rods in her leg so bypassed the bull and found the group we were meeting up with. I knew none of these people but hey, they love country music and were enjoying the gorgeous CA night, so hey, they were good for me.
In my white halter top, capri jeans and high heeled wedged sandals I was feeling cute but not worthy of turning heads that night so figured it could be all about the GF time. We laughed, we talked and then we met some guy named Mr. O (not kidding!). Now considering my life has not included too many big O's in the recent past, I immediately thought of Big O tires...yeah, I need help. Well, Mr. O, complete with a 10 gallon hat and the Texas flag disguised as a button up long sleeve shirt was probably very nice...and would make some woman very happy...well, maybe not, considering he mentioned his wife and his girlfriend in the same sentence. But, he was definitely not what either of us were looking for that evening. He, however, didn't quite get that and, after bragging to me that he supplies the strippers for the Hells Angels on their week long excursions to Hawaii he wanted to know if I'd go with him next time. As a stripper? I'm thinking no...I don't even take my clothes off unless the mood lighting consists of absolute darkness...and, even then I tell whoever I happen to be with "you can touch here and here...avoid the stomach, the thighs, the back...heck...just don't touch!" I laugh and say, "I'm a mom with 2 kids, jetting off to Hawaii isn't in the cards right now". I don't want to be rude but really?! His response "I'll get a sitter for them...don't worry. How about Vegas? We can fly out tonight. I'll get a private jet". Again, seriously?!
What is it about me that screams "Hey crazy man! Offer to fly me, drive me, take me away with you, please?!". Is it my shampoo? I'll change it! It can't be my clothes because I have on more than many of the chicks here. I don't get it...and was starting to think maybe riding the bull again would be less hazardous to my health than staying with Mr. O when I was saved by the ringing of the bell...well, saved by the ring would be more appropriate, as his wife walked up because she needed a drink. I almost kissed the woman...both in appreciation for rescuing me and also in sympathy because really, her husband is nuts. We quickly took advantage of the assist and walked away...as far and as fast as we could.
I have decided this is, in same way, karma...but unfairly directed at me. My grandma used to joke that we needed to find a rich old man with one foot in the grave and a cough...it was a joke...not dating advice or fortune telling. However disturbing that experience was, the night did serve it's purpose...my friend laughed, enjoyed, and forgot her troubles for a few hours at least. And, hey, outside of Mr. Anti-O, there were some really hot cowboys there so for viewing purposes alone, I will be returning...so, stay tuned.
Going through a separation is hard for anyone, believe me, I know, and going through one you didn't want nor ever expect is even harder. So, when a good friend recently found herself in this situation, we all rallied and immediately fell into good girlfriend mode...which is code for "whatever she wants, whenever she needs it, however crazy it sounds..." Okay, well, maybe there is a limit to the level of crazy but you know what I mean...she shouldn't sit home and obsess about why life has handed her this hand right now and who better to help her occupy her time than her fun friends?
Weekends are always tough, especially when your kids have plans and you are contemplating a Friday night in front of the TV, watching too gorgeous for words couples fawn all over each other while you, yourself, are alone, eating potato chips right out of the bag...and then hating yourself for the grease stain you now have on your t-shirt and the extra 30 minutes you'll have to work out tomorrow to make up for your affair with the Ruffles. It is one's responsibility as a girlfriend to stage the intervention before the next outing is to the mall to buy bigger sizes with elastic waist bands. And, really, a night of country music in our area's cowboy heaven sounded good to me...so we were off.
As we were greeted by a bar full of Jack Daniels and an arena housing a mechanical bull, I figured this night could be both very entertaining and exactly what the doctor ordered...for both of us! Since I was driving, I had my one Jack & Diet early in the evening and did think, that while the bull was my 1st step to the other side during my transition from Alex, this may not be the best idea for someone who has rods in her leg so bypassed the bull and found the group we were meeting up with. I knew none of these people but hey, they love country music and were enjoying the gorgeous CA night, so hey, they were good for me.
In my white halter top, capri jeans and high heeled wedged sandals I was feeling cute but not worthy of turning heads that night so figured it could be all about the GF time. We laughed, we talked and then we met some guy named Mr. O (not kidding!). Now considering my life has not included too many big O's in the recent past, I immediately thought of Big O tires...yeah, I need help. Well, Mr. O, complete with a 10 gallon hat and the Texas flag disguised as a button up long sleeve shirt was probably very nice...and would make some woman very happy...well, maybe not, considering he mentioned his wife and his girlfriend in the same sentence. But, he was definitely not what either of us were looking for that evening. He, however, didn't quite get that and, after bragging to me that he supplies the strippers for the Hells Angels on their week long excursions to Hawaii he wanted to know if I'd go with him next time. As a stripper? I'm thinking no...I don't even take my clothes off unless the mood lighting consists of absolute darkness...and, even then I tell whoever I happen to be with "you can touch here and here...avoid the stomach, the thighs, the back...heck...just don't touch!" I laugh and say, "I'm a mom with 2 kids, jetting off to Hawaii isn't in the cards right now". I don't want to be rude but really?! His response "I'll get a sitter for them...don't worry. How about Vegas? We can fly out tonight. I'll get a private jet". Again, seriously?!
What is it about me that screams "Hey crazy man! Offer to fly me, drive me, take me away with you, please?!". Is it my shampoo? I'll change it! It can't be my clothes because I have on more than many of the chicks here. I don't get it...and was starting to think maybe riding the bull again would be less hazardous to my health than staying with Mr. O when I was saved by the ringing of the bell...well, saved by the ring would be more appropriate, as his wife walked up because she needed a drink. I almost kissed the woman...both in appreciation for rescuing me and also in sympathy because really, her husband is nuts. We quickly took advantage of the assist and walked away...as far and as fast as we could.
I have decided this is, in same way, karma...but unfairly directed at me. My grandma used to joke that we needed to find a rich old man with one foot in the grave and a cough...it was a joke...not dating advice or fortune telling. However disturbing that experience was, the night did serve it's purpose...my friend laughed, enjoyed, and forgot her troubles for a few hours at least. And, hey, outside of Mr. Anti-O, there were some really hot cowboys there so for viewing purposes alone, I will be returning...so, stay tuned.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Middle School Flash Back
How is it possible that I just attended my son's middle school back to school night? Wasn't it just yesterday that I was in middle school? I mean my best friend is still the same and I'm not much taller than I was then...but let's not talk about what I weighed. So really, imagine the feelings that went through my mind as I went from class to class tonight learning about the importance of the brain transformation of my 7th grader. 7th grader?! Hanging out at his locker...going to dances...playing on the sports teams...when did time speed up and I was no longer the cheerleader going to my locker, hearing my 1st boyfriend yell "Lady" as he left Biology class to meet me...(Kenny Rogers' Lady was "our song")? And, more importantly, how do I make time stand still?
I'm going to blame this incredible feeling of nostalgia for my step (or 2 or 12) backwards this week as I've actually had to sit on my hands to refrain from texting Alex. Yes, I did just put that in print...I've missed him... like not just a passing thought miss, but an actual punch to the stomach ugh kind of missing him. And, just a week after my walk on the Samantha side of the street, no strings, mind blowing time with Oh my, how good looking are you FWB. Doesn't really seem fair if you ask me. But then again, fair is for baseball and skin types...life is about taking what cards you have been dealt and seeing what kind of hand you can make out of it. And, I've never been known to fold. I should also add, I've also never won a poker tournament so maybe, just maybe, folding isn't always a bad thing.
And, while I haven't succumbed to the desire to reach out and get in touch, it has made me realize that I've been kind of full of myself in thinking that I was all Samantha (or even Carrie like) these days...when really, I still have a lot of Charlotte angst going on over Alex. I want to be ready to move on...and really do will myself to be so...being attracted to new people, going out, flirting, having fun...but when it comes to actually thinking about meeting someone who has even an inkling of a chance of being something more, I balk. If you look at my track record, you'll see that it is so....every guy I've talked about in this blog was going to be unavailable for one reason or another...easy to say "I just can't move on" if you are only hanging out with Mr. Right Now...not Mr. Right.
But, before you beat me up and tell me it is beyond time to get on with my life, remember this is the longest I've ever gone as a single adult...so really, I should be celebrated with champagne and roses (again, this is my blog so I can spin the story however I want). And, while I know it is going to take one very special guy with a strong backbone, sense of persistence, healthy ego (not to mention the other 100 things on my list) to either break down, climb over or blow up the walls I have built, when he does, boy will it be worth it.
I'm going to blame this incredible feeling of nostalgia for my step (or 2 or 12) backwards this week as I've actually had to sit on my hands to refrain from texting Alex. Yes, I did just put that in print...I've missed him... like not just a passing thought miss, but an actual punch to the stomach ugh kind of missing him. And, just a week after my walk on the Samantha side of the street, no strings, mind blowing time with Oh my, how good looking are you FWB. Doesn't really seem fair if you ask me. But then again, fair is for baseball and skin types...life is about taking what cards you have been dealt and seeing what kind of hand you can make out of it. And, I've never been known to fold. I should also add, I've also never won a poker tournament so maybe, just maybe, folding isn't always a bad thing.
And, while I haven't succumbed to the desire to reach out and get in touch, it has made me realize that I've been kind of full of myself in thinking that I was all Samantha (or even Carrie like) these days...when really, I still have a lot of Charlotte angst going on over Alex. I want to be ready to move on...and really do will myself to be so...being attracted to new people, going out, flirting, having fun...but when it comes to actually thinking about meeting someone who has even an inkling of a chance of being something more, I balk. If you look at my track record, you'll see that it is so....every guy I've talked about in this blog was going to be unavailable for one reason or another...easy to say "I just can't move on" if you are only hanging out with Mr. Right Now...not Mr. Right.
But, before you beat me up and tell me it is beyond time to get on with my life, remember this is the longest I've ever gone as a single adult...so really, I should be celebrated with champagne and roses (again, this is my blog so I can spin the story however I want). And, while I know it is going to take one very special guy with a strong backbone, sense of persistence, healthy ego (not to mention the other 100 things on my list) to either break down, climb over or blow up the walls I have built, when he does, boy will it be worth it.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
A walk on the Samantha side of life
Like many women, I fancy myself much more like Carrie than any of the other Sex in the City women (hence the moniker) but I think that most of us have a little Charlotte and Miranda in us as well...It is what made the show work...that we could see ourselves in each of the characters, and, if we are being completely honest, we all either have a teensy bit of Samantha hidden in there somewhere, or at least we wished we did. She is the one who, with careless abandon, really goes after what she wants and says pfft (well, the much more sophisticated version of pfft) to the consequences. She also looks at sex much more the way men do, as a form of release, entertainment, something to be enjoyed and not stress about, fretted over, regretted, dissected and all of the other "ed's" we as women do. Yes, society frowns on women who look at multiple partners as just their version of the Vegas Bellagio buffet line...so many choices, but worth every bite. And, really, I wouldn't want to live my life like that anyhow...although, I do make it a point to get to the Bellagio at least every other Vegas visit.
As we all know, I've been having a hard time the past few weeks trying to figure out why Jersey Shore all of a sudden stopped texting (even though he wasn't what I wanted), why Hot Electrician doesn't want me to help him rewire anything and why G.I. Joe hasn't hopped on a plane to fly 3000 miles to ask me to dinner...okay, I haven't really been losing sleep over any of the above but I have been a little preoccupied with the why of my current no plus one status. And, truly, I do believe a lot of the angst was hormonally induced. Maybe if I weren't feeling the need for physical interaction I'd be more able to see life clearly and not be waiting for The Situation's cousin to text me silliness that will lead to nowhere.
Fortunately, a longtime FWB had been hinting at, heck out and out asking for, some time for us to get together, and well, have sex. Over the past 2+years he has been an amazing friend and really, the last guy I did have sex with (over a year ago!). He is absolutely gorgeous but not at all what I'd ever want to date...a fact I realized very early in our friendship. But, he thinks I'm hot, is fun for a quick lunch date every now and then and really, is incredible in bed. I had blown off the past few invites because I really wasn't in the mood for sex with no brain activity involved. While I'm not expecting a guy to make my brain as hot as my body just to do the horizontal mambo with him, I do want to feel like there is a chance for something more. And, with Mr. 24 Hr Fitness, this was not the case.
However, as I contemplated my cloudy disposition over the lack of Mr. Right in my life, I decided maybe a little hormonal brain cleansing was not a bad idea. So, before I could lose my nerve, I texted him on the first day I felt like I looked hot enough to be fun with a "Well, wanna?" and well, he wanted. And, well, when you aren't trying to impress someone with your wit, your charm, your bedroom skills, while also trying to look 15 pounds lighter with no stretch marks, sex is really a lot easier! We laughed, we talked, we had great sex and, in the grand scheme of things, it worked. I felt sexy, independent and ready to take on the world...
But, of course, the world is a lot larger than his queen size bed and the reality of my life didn't really change. And, for a moment, I started to get depressed, but then I realized something even more important. The reason the glow of mind blowing sex faded was because I have finally moved on to where I do want more. And, by more, I don't mean with a fly in visit from Jersey Shore or anyone else who doesn't really want me. I am ready for the man who knows what he has in me and will be strong enough to see it and hold on.
We all look at Samantha with a touch of longing because we do know our minds and our hearts get involved when we have sex...and well, I for one, wouldn't have it any other way.
As we all know, I've been having a hard time the past few weeks trying to figure out why Jersey Shore all of a sudden stopped texting (even though he wasn't what I wanted), why Hot Electrician doesn't want me to help him rewire anything and why G.I. Joe hasn't hopped on a plane to fly 3000 miles to ask me to dinner...okay, I haven't really been losing sleep over any of the above but I have been a little preoccupied with the why of my current no plus one status. And, truly, I do believe a lot of the angst was hormonally induced. Maybe if I weren't feeling the need for physical interaction I'd be more able to see life clearly and not be waiting for The Situation's cousin to text me silliness that will lead to nowhere.
Fortunately, a longtime FWB had been hinting at, heck out and out asking for, some time for us to get together, and well, have sex. Over the past 2+years he has been an amazing friend and really, the last guy I did have sex with (over a year ago!). He is absolutely gorgeous but not at all what I'd ever want to date...a fact I realized very early in our friendship. But, he thinks I'm hot, is fun for a quick lunch date every now and then and really, is incredible in bed. I had blown off the past few invites because I really wasn't in the mood for sex with no brain activity involved. While I'm not expecting a guy to make my brain as hot as my body just to do the horizontal mambo with him, I do want to feel like there is a chance for something more. And, with Mr. 24 Hr Fitness, this was not the case.
However, as I contemplated my cloudy disposition over the lack of Mr. Right in my life, I decided maybe a little hormonal brain cleansing was not a bad idea. So, before I could lose my nerve, I texted him on the first day I felt like I looked hot enough to be fun with a "Well, wanna?" and well, he wanted. And, well, when you aren't trying to impress someone with your wit, your charm, your bedroom skills, while also trying to look 15 pounds lighter with no stretch marks, sex is really a lot easier! We laughed, we talked, we had great sex and, in the grand scheme of things, it worked. I felt sexy, independent and ready to take on the world...
But, of course, the world is a lot larger than his queen size bed and the reality of my life didn't really change. And, for a moment, I started to get depressed, but then I realized something even more important. The reason the glow of mind blowing sex faded was because I have finally moved on to where I do want more. And, by more, I don't mean with a fly in visit from Jersey Shore or anyone else who doesn't really want me. I am ready for the man who knows what he has in me and will be strong enough to see it and hold on.
We all look at Samantha with a touch of longing because we do know our minds and our hearts get involved when we have sex...and well, I for one, wouldn't have it any other way.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Obviously in need of wine...not whine
Warning! This blog contains material not suited for the annoyingly happy or newly in love (wait, aren’t those the same?) as I am feeling a little blue. Granted, I look really good in blue…totally brings out the eyes, which is why I chose blue shirts for the year I was president of that famous festival. Yes, yes, I digress which is really bugging me because it makes it hard for me to stay grumpy. And, for some reason, grumpy has been the mood of the day.
Well, if I’m being totally honest, and why not, it’s a blog, not dinner with my dad, I know why I’m grumpy…I’m just not proud of the reason. I’m feeling sorry for myself! There, I said it, I’m being a pathetic, hormone crazed, wah wah me, chick! And, what is worse, I am doing it over a man…or to be more accurate, the lack of a really good man! Now, doesn’t that make you just want to shoot me?
And, really, my visits to Pityland never last long, and since I know so many people are dealing with real life problems right now I promise this trip won’t even require an overnight bag. This will just be a short commuter flight trip to lament on the fact I definitely seem to be sending off the wrong vibe or that maybe, just maybe I’ve lost my touch. I realize Mr. Jersey Shore said I was sexy…but he also said he had been separated for 2 years and yeah, not so sure that is the case, so all comments from him are now questionable. And, maybe that is also the problem…sexy is good…but I also want to be cute, fun, date able!
Therein lies my dilemma…I have met men…you’ve read about it…but I’m either not meeting the right men or it isn’t at the right time in their lives for me! Hot Electrician is a good man, and yes, hot…just not in the dating single moms with a penchant for basketball tournaments phase. Mr. GI Joe is a very good man…just not in a phase to date, well, anyone! And, well, yes, pretty sure the heat in Jersey Shore’s kitchen isn’t what I’m looking for.
Yes, I’m content and live a very busy life…2 amazing kids, 2 neurotic adorable dogs, great friends, tons of community work, job I’m good at…wait, again, why am I grumpy?! Oh yeah, because there isn’t a guy to make me wonder if I look good, whose annoying habits I have to overlook, whose call I stress about not coming in…Again, I know, I know…it isn’t all it is cracked up to be…
Seriously, I just think we are wired to be part of a couple and right now that wiring is shorting out a bit…reminding me of my current situation. I will be fine, and I will be back to being the over the top aging cheerleader (with enough cynicism to make me palatable) that I normally am.
I do thank you for humoring my mood though. I see a full then empty then full wine glass in my future.
Well, if I’m being totally honest, and why not, it’s a blog, not dinner with my dad, I know why I’m grumpy…I’m just not proud of the reason. I’m feeling sorry for myself! There, I said it, I’m being a pathetic, hormone crazed, wah wah me, chick! And, what is worse, I am doing it over a man…or to be more accurate, the lack of a really good man! Now, doesn’t that make you just want to shoot me?
And, really, my visits to Pityland never last long, and since I know so many people are dealing with real life problems right now I promise this trip won’t even require an overnight bag. This will just be a short commuter flight trip to lament on the fact I definitely seem to be sending off the wrong vibe or that maybe, just maybe I’ve lost my touch. I realize Mr. Jersey Shore said I was sexy…but he also said he had been separated for 2 years and yeah, not so sure that is the case, so all comments from him are now questionable. And, maybe that is also the problem…sexy is good…but I also want to be cute, fun, date able!
Therein lies my dilemma…I have met men…you’ve read about it…but I’m either not meeting the right men or it isn’t at the right time in their lives for me! Hot Electrician is a good man, and yes, hot…just not in the dating single moms with a penchant for basketball tournaments phase. Mr. GI Joe is a very good man…just not in a phase to date, well, anyone! And, well, yes, pretty sure the heat in Jersey Shore’s kitchen isn’t what I’m looking for.
Yes, I’m content and live a very busy life…2 amazing kids, 2 neurotic adorable dogs, great friends, tons of community work, job I’m good at…wait, again, why am I grumpy?! Oh yeah, because there isn’t a guy to make me wonder if I look good, whose annoying habits I have to overlook, whose call I stress about not coming in…Again, I know, I know…it isn’t all it is cracked up to be…
Seriously, I just think we are wired to be part of a couple and right now that wiring is shorting out a bit…reminding me of my current situation. I will be fine, and I will be back to being the over the top aging cheerleader (with enough cynicism to make me palatable) that I normally am.
I do thank you for humoring my mood though. I see a full then empty then full wine glass in my future.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Who needs the Kardashians?
As someone who doesn't watch the show it is very easy for me to be baffled by the allure. I can not figure out what exactly is so enthralling about a family of wanna be celebrities whose lives often seem like narrowly avoided train crashes. However, I was reminded one night during our trip that you don't have to be the offspring of OJ's attorney to have drama that could be fodder for TMZ. So, maybe that is why I don't watch the shows...I just live them. (well, not nearly that exciting but hey, considering I found a dead mouse in my washing machine tonight, I consider anything that doesn't involve floating rodents a plus).
One of the incredible blessings in my life is the foundation of amazing friends who look out for and care about me...the ones who are with me for my crazy adventures, the ones who understand my eye rolls and catty texts about my former husband and Amazon GF and the ones who have known and loved me since I was 13 years old and just want me to be happy...especially if that means my happiness finds me living south of the Mason Dixon line. For months now my bff and I have been exchanging goofy messages that could have been written at the beginning of our friendship for the silliness they included. The poor unwitting subject of these messages being the newly separated father of one of her daughter's best friends. And, really, on paper (and in pictures) he is perfect...definitely fits more of "The List's" characteristics than Mr. Jersey Shore. However, small problem...he has no idea who I am nor is he anywhere near being ready to move on.
But, let's not let those minor details mar what otherwise is a flawless plan...yeah, this plan is so full of holes it could be Swiss Cheese but again, why sweat the small stuff. So, we forged on and told G.I. Joe that I was going to be in town and that he should swing by for a quick hi...incredibly low key, casual and no pressure. This seemed like a brilliant idea when it was just going to be a few of us (including his kids who would be there). Well, by the time the poor guy showed up, so had 10+ members of extended family and friends. I guess I should mention that the not quite yet ex wife of G.I.Joe is now secretly dating my bff's brother-in-law so when I saw the house was full of family, it was really full of the enemy in his mind. Of course, none of this was the fault of anyone in the room but it certainly didn't set the stage for the meeting of the eyes and chemistry click movies are made of.
Granted, no one expected a love match...or even a date but the thought he might like a friend who understands his plight definitely crossed our minds. A friend, who happened to be cute, around his age, who he might eventually decide was the woman of his dreams...wait, did I write that? I meant just someone he could talk to! But, as it turns out, I think the only thing on his mind that night was how to extricate himself from the situation as quickly as etiquette would allow. And, really, who could blame him? The unintentional mentions of the aforementioned brother-in-law were even making my bff and I look at each other with complete WTF expressions. Could this get any more awkward?!
Needless to say, no digits were exchanged that night...but don't worry, I did not despair. If the experiences of the past 2 years have taught me nothing else, I have learned to just live the life I have been given at that moment. That isn't saying I don't want more at some point but yearning for something isn't going to make it so. What I can do is continue to open myself up to new experiences and see where it leads. If I don't, I may miss out on the story of a lifetime.
One of the incredible blessings in my life is the foundation of amazing friends who look out for and care about me...the ones who are with me for my crazy adventures, the ones who understand my eye rolls and catty texts about my former husband and Amazon GF and the ones who have known and loved me since I was 13 years old and just want me to be happy...especially if that means my happiness finds me living south of the Mason Dixon line. For months now my bff and I have been exchanging goofy messages that could have been written at the beginning of our friendship for the silliness they included. The poor unwitting subject of these messages being the newly separated father of one of her daughter's best friends. And, really, on paper (and in pictures) he is perfect...definitely fits more of "The List's" characteristics than Mr. Jersey Shore. However, small problem...he has no idea who I am nor is he anywhere near being ready to move on.
But, let's not let those minor details mar what otherwise is a flawless plan...yeah, this plan is so full of holes it could be Swiss Cheese but again, why sweat the small stuff. So, we forged on and told G.I. Joe that I was going to be in town and that he should swing by for a quick hi...incredibly low key, casual and no pressure. This seemed like a brilliant idea when it was just going to be a few of us (including his kids who would be there). Well, by the time the poor guy showed up, so had 10+ members of extended family and friends. I guess I should mention that the not quite yet ex wife of G.I.Joe is now secretly dating my bff's brother-in-law so when I saw the house was full of family, it was really full of the enemy in his mind. Of course, none of this was the fault of anyone in the room but it certainly didn't set the stage for the meeting of the eyes and chemistry click movies are made of.
Granted, no one expected a love match...or even a date but the thought he might like a friend who understands his plight definitely crossed our minds. A friend, who happened to be cute, around his age, who he might eventually decide was the woman of his dreams...wait, did I write that? I meant just someone he could talk to! But, as it turns out, I think the only thing on his mind that night was how to extricate himself from the situation as quickly as etiquette would allow. And, really, who could blame him? The unintentional mentions of the aforementioned brother-in-law were even making my bff and I look at each other with complete WTF expressions. Could this get any more awkward?!
Needless to say, no digits were exchanged that night...but don't worry, I did not despair. If the experiences of the past 2 years have taught me nothing else, I have learned to just live the life I have been given at that moment. That isn't saying I don't want more at some point but yearning for something isn't going to make it so. What I can do is continue to open myself up to new experiences and see where it leads. If I don't, I may miss out on the story of a lifetime.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
3 tickets to Adventureland please...
As the kids and I boarded the plane last week for our end of summer East Coast adventure I was hit with a number of emotions…”Phew, we made it through security okay.”, “Crap, why didn’t I get a prescription for Xanax before we left, I hate to fly!” “Please God don’t let that woman with the 2 screaming kids and overflowing backpack of junk sit near us” and “By cocktail hour today I will be on EST with a Kir Royale in hand…aahhh”. Fortunately, by now, you all know I think and emote as fast as I talk so all of those fragments of thought zipped through my brain in the time it took me to pour my small (too small) bottle of Bailey’s into my pseudo Starbucks coffee cup. First sip down and we were off…to a land where I relax more, talk slower (and with a little more sass in my twang) and believe one day I will end up living again.
As this was a trip the kids had been talking about for months, we definitely had agendas filled with must see items in our nation’s capital city. The kids have been a few times so we continue to check things off our list while also ensuring we have time to visit family and friends. Granted, the time is never long enough and the visits never frequent enough but I have found this year that combining sweet tea fixes with new adventures at home has made me miss Alex much less…to the point of being almost ready to handle the impending marriage announcement I know that must be in their future. To assure you I'm not completely naive, that announcement will also require a trip to BevMo but really, so does a conversation with my mother so in the grand scheme of things, not so bad. However, my point is, while my bank account could probably handle less trips, my psyche has definitely benefited.
Of course, my life wouldn’t be my life if there weren’t a little unreal thrown in so the adventure of getting a phone call at 11pm on our first night from my brother and his family who had gotten a flat tire leaving DC after dinner with us started it off right. My dad and I left the kids with my stepmother and took off in his upscale SUV to rescue the stranded crew. By rescue I mean he had his AAA card out and was prepared to use it. As I had already climbed into bed by the time the call came in, I threw on a pair of sweats, my “Basketball Mom” t-shirt and blinged out flip flops and we were off. When we arrived at the Secret Service check point in front of the White House (yes, this is where they were stuck) my nieces were in great need of a bathroom. We sent my sister-in-law and the girls off to the 4 star hotel across the street and we waited with my 18 month old nephew sleeping in the stroller. To add to the excitement, my youngest niece had broken her flip flops and I decided walking into the Willard hotel barefoot at midnight looking for a bathroom could send the wrong message so I now was sans shoes. At dawn on the day in question I was dressed to kill in a white halter dress, jeweled and Farah-haired out and now I was barefoot, in sweats and pushing a stroller along Independence Avenue…my, how the mighty have fallen. I have to admit though I was a little distressed that I obviously was not pulling off the destitute mom act as not one person walking by threw me any change. It could be that I was pushing the stroller right next to a new model Infiniti but still, a token contribution would have just added to the evening.
As anyone in my family can attest, we don’t know how to fix things, we know how to get things fixed so with a hit of the hammer and a quick tire change by Pongo (yes!) from AAA, crisis was averted and I was ready for the next adventure…with my blinged out flip flops, of course!
Again, I’d have nothing to write about if my life weren’t, well,…my life!
As this was a trip the kids had been talking about for months, we definitely had agendas filled with must see items in our nation’s capital city. The kids have been a few times so we continue to check things off our list while also ensuring we have time to visit family and friends. Granted, the time is never long enough and the visits never frequent enough but I have found this year that combining sweet tea fixes with new adventures at home has made me miss Alex much less…to the point of being almost ready to handle the impending marriage announcement I know that must be in their future. To assure you I'm not completely naive, that announcement will also require a trip to BevMo but really, so does a conversation with my mother so in the grand scheme of things, not so bad. However, my point is, while my bank account could probably handle less trips, my psyche has definitely benefited.
Of course, my life wouldn’t be my life if there weren’t a little unreal thrown in so the adventure of getting a phone call at 11pm on our first night from my brother and his family who had gotten a flat tire leaving DC after dinner with us started it off right. My dad and I left the kids with my stepmother and took off in his upscale SUV to rescue the stranded crew. By rescue I mean he had his AAA card out and was prepared to use it. As I had already climbed into bed by the time the call came in, I threw on a pair of sweats, my “Basketball Mom” t-shirt and blinged out flip flops and we were off. When we arrived at the Secret Service check point in front of the White House (yes, this is where they were stuck) my nieces were in great need of a bathroom. We sent my sister-in-law and the girls off to the 4 star hotel across the street and we waited with my 18 month old nephew sleeping in the stroller. To add to the excitement, my youngest niece had broken her flip flops and I decided walking into the Willard hotel barefoot at midnight looking for a bathroom could send the wrong message so I now was sans shoes. At dawn on the day in question I was dressed to kill in a white halter dress, jeweled and Farah-haired out and now I was barefoot, in sweats and pushing a stroller along Independence Avenue…my, how the mighty have fallen. I have to admit though I was a little distressed that I obviously was not pulling off the destitute mom act as not one person walking by threw me any change. It could be that I was pushing the stroller right next to a new model Infiniti but still, a token contribution would have just added to the evening.
As anyone in my family can attest, we don’t know how to fix things, we know how to get things fixed so with a hit of the hammer and a quick tire change by Pongo (yes!) from AAA, crisis was averted and I was ready for the next adventure…with my blinged out flip flops, of course!
Again, I’d have nothing to write about if my life weren’t, well,…my life!
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Gone are the days of party line telephone calls
What ever happened to a group of girlfriends sitting around giving advice to one another about love, dating, outfits, etc...? Isn’t that how my blog moniker gained fame anyhow? From classy women who drank Cosmos and dished about their latest escapades while wearing the latest in New York fashion? When did technology replace the hair salon for all the advice and dirt we need? Granted, this question seems a little ironic coming from someone who writes a blog about her crazy daily escapades but that kind of illustrates my point. In this era of non stop technological advances, advice from all sides has taken on a whole new meaning.
Case in point, as we know, I indulged in a little Jersey Italian fun this past weekend…but that, of course, did not just happen organically. I guess it could have, but it also included tweets, Facebook posts, emails and even some cross continent multi-generational Skyping…not kidding!
As festival weekend is usually pretty insane in my world, I send out a blanket invitation to family that they can stay at my house but don’t expect to see me and a bag of Oreos is probably about the extent of the food they will find…a far stretch from the Southern hospitality they are used to when they visit. However, because my family loves me, they get it and this weekend my aunt, as well as my sister and family were crashed at Casa de Crazy. I guess at some point the discussion turned toward the lack of a male companion in my life so my sister jokingly tasked my 62 year old aunt with “finding me a man”. She took the job seriously and after watching the two of us interact on/off stage texted me with a “he’s hot” message…”let’s do something about that.” Okay, because before she pointed that out through the help of Verizon, I wasn’t so sure the looks, the touches, the “are you married” question was leading anywhere. But, no worries, I don’t care who takes credit as long as it ended with me getting a kiss.
As my aunt was my date for a party that evening that Jersey Shore would be attending, she and I did the mad rush getting ready together. Although, it wasn’t just the two of us as she had been busy Skyping with her boyfriend in Germany. He, too, wanted to get in on the advice action, so had been encouraging her to take her own car…just in case I did get lucky. Pause! Just because the two of you AARP members are busier than the Bud Girls at a Nascar race, it doesn’t mean the rest of us are itching to get busy between the sheets. Well, I was but that is beside the point!
Of course, as it turns out, the two cars could have come in handy but it worked out just fine. I brought my aunt home and ran in the house to do a little freshening up. Of course, that also involved the bi-continental Skype time. As I’m running around, fluffing up the hair, yes, surveying the underwear choice, grabbing a bottle of wine…I’m also getting “Tell her to make sure he’s nice. Is she going to stay at the hotel with him? Why the wine? What kind of guy is he?” Hmm….I don’t know! He seems nice, the wine is because well, I’m 20 pounds overweight, haven’t had a guy see me naked in well, forever, and I need to fortitude and he’s the kind of guy who is hot! Okay, maybe if I’d answered these questions a little more carefully I wouldn’t have written the post I did earlier about needing to have my wires checked. But, that isn’t what I was thinking about each time I passed her laptop, perched on the kitchen counter, with the two of them making googly eyes at one another. Please let me get out of here before they start turning up the heat themselves! We've all seen "It's Complicated"...sometimes video chats leave waaaay less to the imagination than one needs.
Really, the fact that my family (all of them) care so much about my life means every thing to me. I am content, and not a complete basket case, because of them. Their support has gotten me through quite a bit the last two years and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Just at that moment, when all of my insecurities were competing with the excitement of a new adventure, I just wasn’t sure I was ready for it to go viral. But again, this is me, writing about it, in my blog, so I guess I’ll just go with it…
Case in point, as we know, I indulged in a little Jersey Italian fun this past weekend…but that, of course, did not just happen organically. I guess it could have, but it also included tweets, Facebook posts, emails and even some cross continent multi-generational Skyping…not kidding!
As festival weekend is usually pretty insane in my world, I send out a blanket invitation to family that they can stay at my house but don’t expect to see me and a bag of Oreos is probably about the extent of the food they will find…a far stretch from the Southern hospitality they are used to when they visit. However, because my family loves me, they get it and this weekend my aunt, as well as my sister and family were crashed at Casa de Crazy. I guess at some point the discussion turned toward the lack of a male companion in my life so my sister jokingly tasked my 62 year old aunt with “finding me a man”. She took the job seriously and after watching the two of us interact on/off stage texted me with a “he’s hot” message…”let’s do something about that.” Okay, because before she pointed that out through the help of Verizon, I wasn’t so sure the looks, the touches, the “are you married” question was leading anywhere. But, no worries, I don’t care who takes credit as long as it ended with me getting a kiss.
As my aunt was my date for a party that evening that Jersey Shore would be attending, she and I did the mad rush getting ready together. Although, it wasn’t just the two of us as she had been busy Skyping with her boyfriend in Germany. He, too, wanted to get in on the advice action, so had been encouraging her to take her own car…just in case I did get lucky. Pause! Just because the two of you AARP members are busier than the Bud Girls at a Nascar race, it doesn’t mean the rest of us are itching to get busy between the sheets. Well, I was but that is beside the point!
Of course, as it turns out, the two cars could have come in handy but it worked out just fine. I brought my aunt home and ran in the house to do a little freshening up. Of course, that also involved the bi-continental Skype time. As I’m running around, fluffing up the hair, yes, surveying the underwear choice, grabbing a bottle of wine…I’m also getting “Tell her to make sure he’s nice. Is she going to stay at the hotel with him? Why the wine? What kind of guy is he?” Hmm….I don’t know! He seems nice, the wine is because well, I’m 20 pounds overweight, haven’t had a guy see me naked in well, forever, and I need to fortitude and he’s the kind of guy who is hot! Okay, maybe if I’d answered these questions a little more carefully I wouldn’t have written the post I did earlier about needing to have my wires checked. But, that isn’t what I was thinking about each time I passed her laptop, perched on the kitchen counter, with the two of them making googly eyes at one another. Please let me get out of here before they start turning up the heat themselves! We've all seen "It's Complicated"...sometimes video chats leave waaaay less to the imagination than one needs.
Really, the fact that my family (all of them) care so much about my life means every thing to me. I am content, and not a complete basket case, because of them. Their support has gotten me through quite a bit the last two years and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Just at that moment, when all of my insecurities were competing with the excitement of a new adventure, I just wasn’t sure I was ready for it to go viral. But again, this is me, writing about it, in my blog, so I guess I’ll just go with it…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)