Final reflection on Date #6

So, this morning I dropped dog #1 off at the Canine Country Club because she plays well with others and I am going out of town in the morning. This evening I dropped dog #2 off at my parents because they apparently like him better than #1 and he does not play well with others, so it actually works out.

While there, She Who Must Be Obeyed (aka Mom) made a comment to the effect that my posts all read that the Dane was the one and I was so in love with the Dane. I decided to go back and re-read everything I wrote. It's weird. Is it possible that she is reading someone else's blog thinking it is mine? Cause really I can't find where I wrote that.

Sure I found where I wrote about the initial excitement, and the worry and stress. I found where I noted how nice he was, always willing to do whatever I wanted. But I don't see where I totally let myself go.

I say this, because I think that was part of the problem. I do stress out, so going slowly is part of the recipe for success in my world. Clearly, that didn't happen here.

In addition, although it is absolutely no ones fault, I think that when he heard about how impressive it was that he hadn't annoyed me and that I don't usually go gooey it somehow stressed him out and made him worried because that's about when he started trying to constantly take the temperature of the relationship as it were and started constantly apologizing. The stress of this past week on me didn't help anything especially with the constant calling.

I really do think he has trouble with the truth. He told me over and over that he always told the truth, and he didn't know any other way and four or five other versions of that, but the reality is "he doth protest too much." Know what I mean? Especially with all of the crazy stories he told. I thought the diamond necklace bought in Paris was over the top, big sis thought the getting fired one day and hired as a president of a new company another day was too much, but when it is all looked at together, he should have looked more like James Bond with that bio, don't you think?

As I continue my list of specific weirdness I hope to avoid in the next man, constant calling will have to be there somewhere. Call, leave a message, wait for return call. . . this is how it should work.

Update

Ok, I'll make this quick. I'm sitting in my TV room freezing my ASS off because once again it has gotten really cold outside and I'm too poor to have the heat on.

The Dane responded to my email at about 5:30 this morning. He requests a final conversation.

Then at 10:14 -

Are you going to let speak with you? I am ok with your (sic) desition.

At 10:50 He called. I was literally about to call him, but it pissed me off so badly that he couldn't wait for me to call him that I didn't answer. Yes, I am a bitch.


Then at 11:28 -

I am around until 4pm my time would love to speak with you.

11:51 I called him, but he had his kids in the car with him, so he couldn't talk. I told him I would call him when I had time this afternoon.

Then at 1:01

It is ok. I wish you had told me this last week, but it is whatever it is. I have asked to have a conversation(not to talk you out of anything, i was expecting it), but i like you and would like to talk to you.

I am always going to around. I think relationships are going to be hold for a while.

I am not sure what changed, but I must have done something which I am unaware of.

When I told you that I was in love with you, I ment it!!!

I will be around this afternoon and hope to hear from you, not to get you back, you were already gone last week.

At 1:27 I called him and left a message because it rolled to voice mail. This final call is turning out to be a bit of a freaking beating.

Ten minutes later he called me back (control issues?). I feel badly, I really do, but there wasn't anything I was going to say that would make it better. He again made the comment that he wished I had told him that last week. Yeah, I'm sure he does. If I had known last week, I would have told him.

He almost said under his breath "How can I know that he's not the right one" but I'm thinking he realized that would be foolish coming from the man who said he loved me within 5 days of meeting me. I mean, I know I'm amazing and all, but really?

I basically told him it was just a feeling that I knew he wasn't the one. I tried to be gentle. It took about 15 minutes, but at least it is done. Now on to destroying some other poor unsuspecting souls heart. Kidding. Mostly. I think.

Dear John

This post contains the actual content from the Dear John letter that was written in conjunction with The Daisy. I knew I needed help to explain myself while keeping it simple, and she is quite the wordsmith. It's a work of art, and we both are going to Hell for posting it for all the world to see. (Well, in my case, for the 5 people that read this thing to see.) Daisy's version has some additional verbiage. Yes, I know, her version is really REALLY going to get me sent to Hell. . . I'll have a condo by the fiery lake for sure.

Dear Dane:

I know it's chickenshit to do this via email, but so be it.

While I really enjoyed meeting you on the train that afternoon, and the romance of it all is rather appealing, I'm afraid that I don't think that in the end, there is enough substance between us to forge a true connection.

I know that you will disagree with this, but I tell you with great clarity that a relationship between us is not possible.

Besides the obvious issue of distance, there are also a number of personality differences that I really feel make us incompatible. While I am flattered by the fact that you have such an intense desire to make me happy, I think that in this amount of time, for the majority of our conversations to have centered on the state of our relationship, which barely exists to begin with, is indicative of the very real lack of commonality between us.

I am so sorry; I really wish there were a way to not cause you pain, but like a band-aid, I'm just ripping it off in an attempt to avoid dragging out an end that I see as inevitable. I know the right person for you is out there somewhere.

The Diva

What I wanted to write was "At this point everything about you annoys the chit out of me," but I didn't think that was P.C.

I wanted this to be a love story, but it's just not. Trust me, once I opened my eyes I realized I was trapped in a twisted version of Psycho, if that's even possible.

My brain is tired

I am a super freak. No, not your average freak. A super freak. Since meeting the Dane in New York it has been a bit of a whirlwind. Yes, it is fun to have the whole romance story thing. Yes, we had a nice weekend. But there are things that annoy me. Not huge things. Just lots of little things. My brain is mush from thinking about all of this crap, and I have no idea of which way is up at this point. MY HEAD HURTS.

Am I a saboteur, as Daisy as told me? Have I actually already made up my mind to kill the relationship? Am I just totally unused to a guy being totally in to me? (Well, that is a yes, but is that what is freaking me out?) What is it that I want if it isn't a guy that is totally in to me and determined to be nice even when I am being an uber bitch?

I seriously can't bear to talk about "us" one more time. And, I totally don't want to have any of the conversations that I feel like we need to have. Yuck. Can we not just talk about the weather and shoot the shit?

Why must there be so much angst attached to relationships? I want to shake off all of the stress and worry and just be able to talk and in doing so determine do I like this person. Part of my fear is that in the romance and the craziness of it all I got all distracted away from the "do I like this person" of it. Cause I don't know. Is that terrible? Enamoured, sure. Like, not so sure.

I feel like I'm usually a pretty good judge of other people and their relationships. I can hone in on the crux of the issue etc, but I am either totally incapable of doing it for myself or I have done it and I don't want to face the answer. . . chit, chit, chit.

Alright that's all for now. I'm taking my damn Theraflu and going to bed.

Senior Ads Meeting

So it is almost 5:30. I have been to Michael's (needed some stuff to get myself organized), the dry cleaners, home to feed the dogs, and, now, I find myself back at school.

First side note: this morning I decided to go downstairs and get some breakfast (school breakfasts aren't the best, but they aren't horrible). At any rate, after eating it I realized that I had failed to take my girl without gall bladder medicine. Sigh. Paid for that about an hour later. Then Daisy brought a super yummy cupcake from this great bakery on Greenville Ave. I had half. It was good. I did ok. So, what did I do? ATE THE OTHER HALF. NOT OK. NOT GOOD. Paid for it about an hour later.

The 2nd of 2 Senior ads meetings is tonight to teach parents how to do senior ads. For the first meeting I was deathly ill, and there weren't many parents there. I am healthy (but tired) and really hoping they all come tonight because it is going to be a total pain in the ass if they don't come.

For those who do not know what a senior ad is: In the last 20 years or so yearbooks have changed from having mostly commercial ads from companies in the area in the back of the book to mostly ads from parents to their kids saying how precious they are and how much they love little Johnny, etc etc. We, the yearbook staff, make OBSCENE amounts of money from selling these ads. This money in turn buys lots of fun toys for the yearbook staff, computers, laptops, cameras etc. We have over 300 pages of ads. It is a lot of ads.

So, I'm tired, still cranky and trying to psyche myself up for this evening. Although skinnier because I'm pretty sure everything I've eaten today has passed through my system. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

Reflection

As I look at the dates of my postings it is clear that I have completely failed the 28 posts in 28 days. Scratch that, technically I have posted 29 times in 24 days, but I don't post each day. So, I have semi-failed. I am making a stretch here, but work with me. I find myself behaving in a similar fashion in relationships. I understand the concept. I want to do it. Yet, I still find myself dancing to the beat of a different drummer. Am I a failure or just intent upon doing it my own way?

All of this to say, that although there are many wonderful qualities to the Dane, and he has reminded me of how delightful it is to be treated well, but I still find relationships are hard. I have been single a long damn time. I am used to things being a certain way, at times, I might even accept that I am a curmudgeon. In addition, I am independent and used to having alone time.

You are getting the idea right? So, talking to the Dane last night I got a little stressed. I definitely need to take this slowly and work to not freak out and run. I was totally and completely ready to bail this morning. I have been in a totally crappy mood all day and the day was really stressful, so I am taking deep breaths, drinking my theraflu (I may actually be addicted, but that is a different post) and getting ready for bed.

We'll see where I am tomorrow.

The Summary

Showed back up at his hotel at about 8:30. We started talking, and I have to admit, we took a few minutes (an hour) just to lay still. I really needed more sleep. Once we got going we headed out to meet my friend, Daisy, at a pub. She was looking very fetching and being very charming, which was somewhat annoying since I told her she was allowed to be neither. (This will be important later.) She did snap a photo of us as a memento for the blog.

While chatting and such, Daisy mentioned that she saw a for lease sign in front of an apt building around the corner from her that our friend, Dumbass (I use this term with great affection), lives in. This, we decided, was mildly concerning because he is dating a girl, although lovely as a human being, that is not the right girl for him. Text messaging research began immediately. In the course of that, we discovered that Dumbass was actually at another pub that we have been known to frequent, so, what the hell, off we went. The Dane was very agreeable to everything. I'm rather charmed by that. He says he is not always so agreeable, but I've had no indication of that yet.

We arrived at the Monk and proceeded to chat etc. It was a lovely afternoon. It was clear to me that Dumbass was in a bad place with the gf. I was very glad that Daisy, who has had her eye on Dumbass for a while was looking so fetching. The Dane, being a gentleman and sweetheart, paid for everyone's drinks.

In the meantime, we'd been there so long, it was time to go to dinner . . .yes, I spent all of Saturday in eating establishments.

So, the four of us went to the Greek place that Daisy and I love so. At this point, I must confess, I was about to fall into my food I was sooooo tired. The evening ended a little early (8:30?), but the Dane was charming and sweet throughout.

Sunday, Tex-Mex was again the order of the day. We got Daisy and Dumbass to join us (cause they are just fun.) It was brunch at Matitoe's.

Later, we went to the Dallas Aquarium which I think I've been to once before, but don't remember. It was really cool, and I totally enjoyed it. There are a couple of places where it is possible to sit and just enjoy the fish and animals, so it was nice to be able to sit and talk.

For dinner, we went to Truluck's. It was totally delicious.

I'm sure I have more to write about the EMOTIONS and such, but I haven't fully processed everything, and honestly, I'm trying to figure out where I am myself. It was a lot for a second date.

How is this possible?

I don't know what to say. He is a great guy. I am totally wowed. Honestly, I keep thinking that at some point I'm going to say or do something and he's gonna look at me funny and go, "oh, you were great right up until I discovered X (your cat is retarded, you hate beans etc etc)." I keep looking at him thinking, I can't believe he's not annoying yet."

I have no words. I woke up at the crack of freaking dawn this morning (possibly from the headache. . . ). I am still balanced between the fear of the wheels falling off and the excitement that they won't.

I walked to his hotel room last night and as I was approaching, I was thinking that I could just turn around and go home. No need to keep walking, but I took a couple of deep breaths and knocked on the door. . . he opened it, and it was OK. Know what I mean? I just looked at him and thought, wow you really are cute, and wow there is something still there. And he was sweet, and casual and he gave me his driver's license so I could text it to Mom. (Seriously, Mom, now freaking relax.)

For those reading the twitter, this is just a total repeat, bar, dinner, bar, home. Did I mention that we had our first kiss? And, yes, ladies and gentlemen, he kisses really well. WOW.

The Plan

Ok, the Plan is to abandon the ship as soon as the bell rings at 3:30. Go home, fluff and buff a little bit. . . take care of the dogs and perhaps clean the bathroom. I know, you are wondering why I would take the time to clean the bathroom in the midst of preparing for big date #2. . . but I am also trying to get healthy and free of illness and I figure my home is a petri dish at this point, so I'll change the sheets and fumigate the bathroom this afternoon.

Head over to his hotel and go to dinner. . . I'm not planning on too late of a night since I have a bit of a marathon for this weekend. The stress of all of this alone could send me into a relapse, so I have to take it easy.

Tomorrow morning I'll get up and clean the kitchen and vacuum. Maybe lysol the joint too. Not sure of the plan for tomorrow, but I'm working on it.

Sabrina and the squirrel

This is a tale that totally deserves photos, but it was so traumatic, there are none. So sorry.

Wednesday morning I get up let the dogs out and go about my business of getting dressed. I've been sick all week, so I was busy snorting salt water, gargling salt water and blowing my nose.

I see out of the corner of my eye Sabrina running in the house with something in her mouth. I thought to myself, "Huh, I wonder what toy that is," and headed out of the bathroom to follow her into the front room. There she sat proudly displaying THE DEAD SQUIRREL. AUUGGGHHH.

After getting Sabrina and Buddy out of the room, honestly, the first thing I had to do was make sure that the damn thing was dead. Then I had to figure out how to get it out of my house. I am scarred.

Now I roll through the house regularly checking for dead animals.

The Dane

It's official. He'll be here tomorrow. I'm trying really hard not to freak out. I mean totally and completely. freak. the. hell. out.

That is my M.O., don't you know. I freak out, become a total bitch and kill a relationship before it has a chance.

So, he arrives Friday. I have, at best, a loose plan. I am sick as a dog. Full of flem. Can't breath through my nose. Blowing my nose every 3 or 4 minutes and in between snorting. Oh, this ought to be lots of fun.

And, although the Dane is coming a great distance to see me, where usually I am a whirling dirvish of action: nails done, exfoliate, wash hair, cute outfit, house clean (just in case), all he is getting at this point is my fervent prayer that I be able to breath through my nose. My car is going to be clean, but that is only because I sent a kid to clean it. Seriously. That's why I have boys on the yearbook staff, but I digress.

Last night I went to La Boheme (fabulous opera, but I didn't get home till midnight, so I am zonked). Tonight I have the first of two senior ads meetings (parents come, and we explain how to do ads etc.) With any luck I will be out of here by 9, so that I can at least WASH MY HAIR.

I'm working really hard to not think about this weekend at all. If I do, I will start to hypervenilate. Beeeee caaallllmmm. Beeeee cccaaalllmmm...

Update on Date #6 aka The Dane

I say this because although he lives in Connecticut and works in New York, he is Danish. As we were departing New York for home, he was departing New York (from a different airport) for Denmark. So, he have spoken and texted, but he is on another continent at the moment adding a whole new level to the long distance thing.

We give him points because he hasn't annoyed me yet, and he seems convinced that I won't annoy him. Ha. Little does he know.

At any rate, he maaaayyy come down this weekend. Maybe.

Date #7

Geez, made this date before I went out of town. He is interesting, intelligent, good looking, etc. Doesn't matter. Total disinterest. All I could do is think of Mr. NY. Chit. Chit. Chit.

Date #6

So, this didn't turn out quite how I imagined. Date 6 was supposed to occur when I got back in town.

On the way back from Conneticut the first day in NYC, I met a man on the train. We talked most of the way, and he gave me his number. He told me that he was meeting a friend for drinks, and he would love for me to join him.

We, the 14 students and 3 chaperones, went to Lion King that night (totally amazing). Afterwards, we went out for dessert. Totally exhausted and very late, I crashed and burned.

The next day, I told Daisy about it, and she insisted that I text him a note. "Sorry I couldn't make it" type thing. So, I did. He called and then we texted back and forth. We made a plan to meet for breakfast Sunday morning.

At one point on Saturday he left a message asking if we could move the time to about 10 am because of the train schedule. As he was leaving the message, he says never mind, don't change anything I will be there at 9am.

I called him and said we could change it; we would just have a little less time. He said he didn't want less time. I have no idea of what time he caught the train to get into Grand Central, but he did. Our plan was to meet at the clock in the middle of the terminal. While the children traipsed off to church Sunday morning, I headed towards Grand Central Station for a date. Certainly, it was easier to get ready for since by Sunday morning I was out of clean clothes and only had the trip home outfit!

So, I took a shower Snday night, packed my bags (really difficult considering the size of my bag and the purchases I had made) and watched TV.

Got up at 7am, dolled myself up with what was available and made it to the clock just as he was walking u to the clock.

We crossed the street and went to breakfast. We talked for about 3 hours. He ordered the bagel and lox and I got eggs. We talked the whole time. Once I spoke to JH, we headed out to find a cab. He rode with me to the restaurant where I was meeting everyone, and I have to admit, I was loath to leave him.

After breakfast, I got a policeman on the street to take our picture.

*As a side note when the kids and JH finished church they headed to lunch and called me, but I didn't hear the phone So, then I had a succession of messages because they were concerned I was being chopped up into pieces.

I sent a text saying thank you for a lovely morning, and then he sent a response, and we were off again.

We went to the Met, after a short visit to the Egyptian room (and texting) which is my favorite part of the museum, I returned to the main hall so that we could talk some more.

Back to the hotel, talked to him again. To the airport, talked to him some more and oh, yes, we texted in between/ Is this not the craziest shit ever?

It's weird. I'm a little freaked out, but I can't stop myself either.

A confession

I know I have whined in the past about getting ready for dates. So much girls have to do that guys don't. It really doesn't seem right, but, somehow, at the same time, I have to admit that sometimes, getting ready for the date . . . is the best part.

Usually I get going abut an hour and a half before go time/

I add a caveate here that the second date I put in a little extra tme because I cur my hair. A little variety for the boy that makes it past the first date hurdle. I'm a giver like that and, quite frankly, not many make it to the second date.

I turn the music up. I mean the window panes vibrate. I fix myself a drink, ameratta sour, vodka lemonade or a vodka cranberry juice with a little 7-up. These are my favorites.

Then I do a mud mask or exfoliate and I take a nice hot bath, shave the legs and scrub my skin so that it is super soft. The irony, of course, is that I don't actually want anyone touching me on the first date, but I digress.

Out of the tub, I dance around for a good 15 minutes (Have to dry off and such), put on the lotion/oil and then I start the process of make-up application.

Last thing, brush my teeth That moment right before I head out still a little toasty from the drink, war paint on, cute outfit, heels, totally optimistic and ready to have fun. . . that's a good moment.

Sure half these guys turn out to be nut jobs and frequently the evening is not filled with the dazzling conversation of which I dream, but sometimes they aren't so bad, some times I even enjoy myelf because I'm thinking of how it will play out on the blog, and one of these dates will turn out to be good. But still, I like the challenge of putting on my pretty clothes and seeing if I can be witty and charming and desirable. Ok. Now you know.

PS wrote this on the plane on the way to New York, little did I know what lay in store for me.

Pride cometh before a fall

It was with great pride that I compared the size of my luggage with the kids. All of them. Including the boys. I had the smallest. Carry on only. Sure it was jammed in there tighter than a whore in a red mini skirt, but I had done it. After 3 full days in NYC, I have picked up a few things along the way, and I say to you . . . I have NO FREAKING IDEA of how I'm going to get everything into that small little piece of luggage. In fact, I can say with all most total certainty, it ain't gonna happen. Chit. Chit. Chit.

Back on the farm

OK, while I have been running around New York like a mad thing, things have been happening back at school, I shall attempt to condense and be clear.

Background: There is a program called SASI that allows teachers to look up student schedules. Because I have so many kids that look up schedules ALL of the time, I have 3 log ins. This allows me to have kids working on the two computers across my room that I can see and the one at my desk. Technically students aren't supposed to be on SASI but it is an understood that my kids do this with my supervision.

It turns out that another teacher who is a bit of a bitch and a total idiot threw me under the bus as it were.

She has a rose thing she does with her organization (giving roses to raise money). So they had to look up a lot of schedules. The assistant principal went through the teachers workroom yesterday and saw four girls looking up schedules on sasi with NO ADULT in sight.

She was upset to say the least. In her conversation with the principal she said words to the effect of how all these girls have been saying over and over how they look up schedules all of the time and that they kept telling her that I would give her my password happily. WHAT? Why would she even mention my name?

She had called me the night before to ask for my password, but I didn't call her back. The principal called me this morning and left a message saying that another teacher has made the "accusation?" and that he is just trying to find out the truth, and if it is true he will have to fill out a report??!! Got to be kidding me. I want to beat the shit out of the stupid fat proxide bitch.

So, my SASI acount has been cancelled and I have to meet with her and the principal next week. Can't tell you how thrilled I am about all of that.

NYC

I am a very tired woman. To bed at about midnight, up at 5:30 traveling to Conneticut to visit with a group of high school student similar to our students, back, getting ready for dinner and then off to see The Lion King.

Trip to New York

Let me start with I love to travel. I love going to the airport because it's always the beginning of an adventure whether mine or someone elses. I love hanging out at the airport watching people come and go. I like imagining their lives, what they do, where they live, where they might be going. I like to see how people dress for traveling. Clearly, comfort is the word of the day for today's travelers.

I love looking out the window of the plane. Everything looks so small. God's eye view. The world is beautiful at 35,000 feet. As the sun sets there is a beautiful glow across the horizon. Lights begin to appear below. Again I find myself getting lost in the idea of so much humanity below.

People dying, babies being born, lovers fighting, students working to learn calculus, others watching TV.

People living lives of quiet desperation, others living out loud. One person just waiting to exhale as someone else is falling in love.

The world has a soundtrack as my Ipod plays along. Skipping songs that don't fit the mood and replaying others that speak to what I'm feeling as I look down on parts of the country so lit up and beautiful. The lights form snakes and figure 8's. Lines on wagon wheels, pods of lights and then other places mostly dark with small flickers of light here and there.

I love arriving in a new city. Every city has its own personality.

New Orleans is slow and sweet with an air nonchalance about it. Rome is filled with the self-satisfaction of people who are surrounded by the history of us all. Not so small and intimate as Florence, but not the big uber cosmopolitan Paris.

New York is sophisticated, full of energy and alive.

i love hotel rooms (nice hotel rooms) Clean tight sheets, fluffy comforter. Room service tea in the morning to wake me . . . (although most New York hotels don't have room service.) Mud masks at night because, after all, there will be new towels for the new day and I don't have to be so concerned with how I'm going to get those wash clothes cleaned! I love that (at least in America) I can crank the air up or down without fear of the electric bill.

I don't have a TV in my bedroom at home. So, I love the decadence of watching TV until sleep takes over.

And then if the trip has been timed right, I head home just as I become antsy to sleep in my own bed again. I pack my stuff and head back to the airport and then home.

With any luck when I leave NYC this trip, I'll return to Dallas with the weather being just perfect reminding me again of one of the things I most love about Dallas, the weather.

So, it is 11:30pm. I am making sure that I get my post for today in. If you read the Twitter on the left, you can get practically a moment to moment update of the first 3 hours in New York.

Time for a bath and then bed.

Wet ground, wet paws

This shall be short and sweet. The backyard is a mud pit courtesy of the rain, and the kitchen is a mudpit courtesy of the dogs.

I will take the dogs to be boarded tomorrow morning and tomorrow afternoon I shall jet off to New York City with 14 students and the Stu Co sponsor.

I'm not quite packed yet. I need to eat dinner but that requires going into the kitchen where the dogs are currently residing with their muddy paws and wet backs.

Oh well, here goes nothing.

poetry

Our school has this really cool Literary Festival that we have every year. A different author is invited to speak to the students and then we have a day of workshops and stuff. This year our invitee is Billy Collins.

We had a poetry reading at the local library tonight in conjunction with the book club I am in. It was really great. I definitely like his poetry. It struck my poetic fancy, so here it goes.

I plop myself down on the leather chair,
dark and soft, bought with money I didn't have.
The dogs enter momentarily searching
for what will be the perfect spot tonight.

I could return the call of the man I haven't actually met yet,
but who will be asking me to spend
another couple of hours buffing, plucking and powdering in an effort to impress him
(whether he realizes that this is part of the request I don't know.)

Perhaps I will light up the wall with the flickering lights of the TV
allowing myself to be pulled into another world
of laughter, embarrassment and long looks.
Oh, to be in a world where everything is resolved in 24 minutes or even 47.

The thought of doing anything more
than snuggling down into the chair
waiting for Buddy to leap upon me
is more than I can bear this evening.

This one is for Cha Cha

We have never met
but I feel a kindred soul
as we find ourselves swirling in the amusement park cesspool
of dating and lost loves.

Our standards are like the signs in front of roller coasters
demanding that the participants reach a minimum height before entering
Sadly, there are many not quite there
and others trying to convince the ride master
that they meet the requirements
without it actually being true.

Some nights it is like being in the fun house.
It starts out fun to see ourselves bizarrely skinny or strangely squat
but if we aren't careful the reflection becomes more true to life
than the mirrors we keep at home.

Other nights we find ourselves in the giant teacups
swirling around in circles feeling sick to our stomach
wondering why our memories of the teacup seem
so much better than the reality.

We eyeball the ride at the far end, there seems to be a line
It's called the Tunnel of Love
That's the one we want to ride
So many people already in line
Why must we wait?

But then we remember
to be alone in the dark
with someone who isn't The ONE
is like choosing the perfect pair of jeans to wear to the park.
We want the perfect dark blue pair that makes us look really thin
BUT UNFORTUNATELY CUTS OFF OUR ABILITY TO BREATH.

Why do we do that? Choose the pair that we know we will regret wearing?
It's better to wait for the perfect dark blue pair of jeans that make us look really thin, feel really thin AND allow us to take in great big lung filling breaths of air.
It makes the entire park experience a lot more fun.

Valentine's Day looms and advice abounds

I just realized the day is about to get away from me with no post. That would not be acceptable. In the meantime, a friend sent me a link to the MSN Romance Page. Clearly, she has been reading the blog. One of the articles "Romantic Chemistry Explained" has a line that I love "Much like booze, cigarettes and reality TV, we know bad boys and girls are, well, bad for us, but we just can’t help ourselves."

Ironically, I am totally capable of avoiding the bad boys, although the booze and reality TV still have a hold on me.

I don't think I want someone who is bad for me, although a fabulous ability to kiss would be, well, really nice.

I have a friend who is totally Jonesing for a guy that is bad for her, well, mainly because he is a total dumbass dating someone else. (I admit he would be a great guy if he would get his head out of his spixter but how many guys can we say that about . . . um, most, bless their sweet little hearts.)

Included in the article is the question about one person feeing there is a great connection, while the other feels nothing. As my bf says, that's just good manners. As I have come to realize with date #5, he felt that the moment I decided we probably weren't a good match, I should have gotten up from the table and left. I wasn't done with my drink, and well, that is just weird.

At any rate, there are a ton of articles including a bit about what we can learn from our dogs. I still have a dream of writing a book comparing men to dogs. . . All men are dogs, some are just trained better than others. Let's not stop too long to think about how poorly trained my dogs are and what that might be saying about other areas. Sigh.

The thank you note

So, following the social niceties, I sent Date #5 a thank you note. Actually, he sent a note saying he had a nice evening, so I replied.

Dear Date 5,

Thank YOU for a lovely evening. It was a nice date, and I enjoyed meeting you. Unfortunately, I don't think we are a good fit.

It turns out I am one of "those" girls; I would like to find someone who has the same religious believes that I do. I appreciate that you are still on the path looking, but I know that this is something important to me (perhaps my own baggage I've picked up through the years). I could probably ignore it for a while, but I think, in the end, it would be a problem.

Good luck. The right girl is out there waiting for you,

The Diva

Nice right? Sorry bastard sent a response!!

His response was titled: That's Okay. Last Question and I'll go.

It was clear when your body language went South. I wish you would have been direct. When something is that important why would you knowingly search outside your faith? It hurts my feelings much more that you do not value my time.

Be aware that his profile does read Christian/Protestant. And, really, it hurts his feelings??? I wanted to just write "get over it." but instead I wrote:

You probably shouldn't write that you are a Christian Protestant on your profile when really as you said last night you are a "deist".

Oh, and if you are going to claim honesty as a virtue, you might want to fix your profile. You aren't 38, you aren't a protestant and you don't have a bachelor's. Makes me wonder what else you consider ok to lie about.

Good luck,

The Diva

What the hell is wrong with this dude???

#5 Pitched and missed

He started with great promise. We were meeting at 6:30, but he called at 6:10 to say he was already there. I liked that! Way better than showing up late.

There are two things that were the deal breakers, if you will, and then a couple of other things that I just thought, well, this could be a problem.

Ok, I know it is wrong to make fun of a physical infirmity, but he had a facial tick and a snort (It was a combo, face would tick, then he would do this snort thing in the back of his throat.) All. freaking. evening. It was totally distracting. I know he couldn't help it, but there it is.

Religion. I am all about everybody doing their own thing. (I don't think I push my believes on to my friends -feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.)However, I would like the person I commit my life to, to be someone with whom I can go to church. He presented his believes in such a way it was an accusation against the women he had dated in the past who had not wanted to go out with him again because he's a "deist." How could they be so closed-minded as to not want to go out with him again because he's not sure of what he believes? He believes in a god but he's on a path and I quote "as a scientist it is hard to believe in water being parted." Dude, if you have problems with that, just wait till you get to the New Testament!

So, minor issues: the "profile" information is full of misinformation. He says he thinks he is too honest for some girls and that honesty is important, but it actually seems it is only important for the big stuff. For little things, well, everyone lies.

Including in the "white lie" category, but not limited to the drink occasionally actually means he never drinks at all. It just annoys me. Just say you never drink. If it means some of us aren't interested in you because of it then we prefer our men to drink with us, so either drink or find a girl that doesn't drink or is ok with you not drinking. Don't lie and think you dashing good looks and charm are going to make the lie OK.

He is very clearly in love with the idea of being in love. He pounds home he is looking for someone to marry, watch movies with, cook with etc. etc. I'm not so sure the girl is as important as the vision if you know what I mean.

He thinks that marriage shouldn't be work. Those people make tired. I am sorry if you are one of those people. Unless you are one of those people who has been married for 20 years, in which case please tell me how you have been married for that long without work. Cause it looks like work, not all the time, but there is some work involved. NUT JOB.

So, date was over by 9pm, and I was tired, but I decided to drop by the neighborhood bar that I have wanted to check out for a while. One drink I said. . . I think I was overserved. Good music, they had Anchorman playing on the tv, (stupid but very funny), and there was a precious little 30 yr old buying me drinks. I even promised him he would make the blog as the guy that saved my evening. So, here's to you, Michael.

Back to the drawing board.

New Career? Perhaps not

Well, it was a bit of a cluster. Let's start with that.

I raced home after school to feed the dogs, grab my stuff and head back to school. We were told that there would be someone at school to do our hair and make-up, so I didn't have much make-up on at all, but I did bring my curling iron because I figured they would not be interested in curling my hair, but I could stand there and do it before they did anything else to my hair. As they say, I figgured wrong.

I am back to school before 5pm, in fact, I am the first girl back, so I start heating the curling iron and getting to work. Other people begin to arrive, and then the make-up lady arrives and starts setting up. She informs us that we were supposed to come already done up, and she was just adding a little umph. Ummm, come again? So, we are a little bent, but she starts getting defensive and repeating herself. We understood, but we also knew that about half of us arrived with NO freaking make-up on. Chit.

Apparently, about half of the girls were also told that jewelry would be provided. Turns out, not the case. So there are about 15 of us that need to have our make-up done. At some point one of the teachers got a piece of paper so that we could "sign" up to get faces done. Me, I might have thought we would do it in order of when we were going on. Apparently not, Or, maybe we would do it in order of when we got there, no, not doing it that way either. So, I don't sit down in the chair to get my make-up done until 3 minutes before we go on . . .did I mention I was SECOND to go on stage? Literally I have JUST SAT down in the stupid make-up ladies chair when they start yelling, we're about to go on. . . line up everybody. I don't even have the dress on yet.

The whole thing at this point is just a cluster. Totally and completely.

One of the teachers in the show is a short, bitter, cranky woman that has been teaching at the HS for a long, long time. As you might guess, we don't get along. She, at some point as we were getting ready, starts curling her hair with my curling iron. I look at her as she's curling my hair, and she just looks back, no acknowledgment of the fact she has used my curling iron.

Meanwhile, another 'model' looks around and asks if there is a curling iron she could use. . . The short, bitter, cranky woman looks at her and says, yes, she can use this curling iron. . . OMG are you freaking kidding me? Bitch uses my curling iron and then offers it up to others??? I nearly lost my freaking mind.

Then the teacher in charge of the club brings out these lovely bags of 'gifts' from Saks Fifth Ave (the store that provided all of the clothes.) They are all a little different, so, of course, I get the hand lotion that smells like a 90 year old woman. (I know this makes me ungrateful and an alcoholic but I seriously needed a freaking drink at that point because I just wanted to throw the lotion against the wall. . . Like I really needed to get home and take a shower because I put the stupid lotion on my hands and it smelled AWFUL.

I suppose it all turned out ok. I did not fall. (That was my primary goal.) I did not trip (almost did that.) I did ok. And the dress rocked! (The photo does NOT do it justice!)

Does Obama not know ANYONE who pays taxes?

Unbelievable. We are now on our 3rd Obama nominee that has had tax issues. Really? He might want to start asking people ahead of time. Are you qualified? Do you have time to commit? DO YOU PAY YOUR TAXES?????

Exercise

So recently I commented (whined) about how I know I need exercise, but it is cold outside, and I get home and I'm blah. I don't have a gym membership so I can't workout indoors. Well, that is all well in good if I didn't have 8 gazillion workout DVDs.

For instance, I got into yoga for a while, but the stupid video nearly killed me. My sister loves Richard Simmons, but I can't bear him, so I got Kathy Smith which I figure is close. For a while, I got into the hard core kickboxing. That Billy Blanks, he's a beast. That was cool, and I got very buff. You can't beat a good cardio bootcamp for sweat production. I bought the Hip Hop Abs last year, but I never actually did it. I'm pretty sure that I've never done the dance party either. So, I own a lot of exercise videos, there you have it. I really have no excuse. I could start coming home and immediately doing a different video each night. Tomorrow I have a datearooni, so maybe I'll start Saturday or Sunday.

photos courtesy of Amazon.

Memories of the Cult

Several years ago I attended a workshop that friends and family fondly referred to as 'the cult.' when I signed up for the cult, I remember that what I was really after was peace. You know how there are people in this world that are just . . . calm? The world doesn't seem to freak them out and they don't seem to get too stressed out about stuff. I wanted that.

At any rate, I'm still on the email list for the cult, and they sent a great prayer out today. It reminded me of my dream, my desire, my yearning for peace. I've lowered my standards since then, but I really like the prayer.

May today there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.

May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others.

May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.

May you be content with yourself just the way you are.

Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.

It is there for each and every one of us.

Saint Theresa

Wow. Guess it could always be worse

In light of recent troubles with my gas bill, this story was particularly distressing. The guy owed about $1,000 (sound familiar?) and lived in MICHIGAN when the electric company shut his electricity off. I don't care who you are or what you owe, it should not be possible to shut off people's electricity in the dead of freaking winter. They should at least have a forced drive-by with a "hey dumbass your electricity is going to be shut off and freezing to death sucks."

I can't afford being a girl, let alone, a Diva.

OK, so I had to have a visual aid. It hasn't been two weeks and look how far they have grown!! Seriously, they are way out from the nail bed, and they have grown so much that you see the white of my nail and then a space before the white of the solar nails. I've been promised that this is just because they are new. They will not grow at this meteoric rate for long. (Can we pause and appreciate the irony that I put the stupid things on because my nails were in such bad shape AND not growing at all?)

Yikes. I had convinced myself that at every 3 - 4 weeks it wouldn't be so bad, but this is NOT OK. And yet, here I am dating away. I can't have my hands look like crap. Hello, it is a package thing. Wrap me up and put a bow on top.

Oh, and I need to make an appointment to get my hair cut. Augghhhhhh

Speaking of which, I thought I would review my dating path in the last several months, I'm trying to keep my head on straight and be relaxed. I don't want to be cutting guys off immediately, but I don't want to hang on long after I know I need to be walking. Know what I mean? Let's check my progress.

We had
Date #1, met for brunch, my general response was that I could imagine he was still single because he was clearly ego-centric. Didn't hear from him again.

Date #2, the orthodontist. Let's see, chose Spaghetti Warehouse as his place to impress me. Told me that it was some kind of test to see if I was a gold digger. (Paaleezzeee) Started getting all freaky touchy on me immediately, tried to do me in the parking lot, asked if I wanted to get in the car and "make out" - uh, NOOO, put doggie bag on dashboard and allowed it to spill all over my car. Ok, so he was texting me madly before Thanksgiving, but then disappeared, let's assume he got the hint.

Date #3, Very nice on first meeting, but the second date let it all out, showed up late, had no plan whatsoever, told assinine stories that he thought would be cute???? blah, blah, blah I'd like to add that I kindly emailed him the morning after the second date and told him I didn't think we were a good fit. He was shocked, he thought we were perfect. I sent a response of why I though this, and he replied with uh, I guess you are right. Yes, yes I am.

Date #4 This is when the twittering began. Nice guy, but really no connection, and then he called 8 days later. I'm looking to inspire a little more interest than 8 days later, oh, I thought I'd say hi. Ok, well, this is me saying by.

Date #5 . . .To occur. New guy. Has 3 kids (Yikes) youngest is 16. We talked yesterday for almost an hour, got along pretty well. He seems very straight forward, which I have to tell you, I really like. He's funny, interesting. Sounds very country. More to come.

My first post on Want

Ok, so it is 4:21 and I am sitting on my duff. I had a headache first thing this morning, but it wasn't too bad. I got going on the day, but long about third period I could feel the headache turn into a migraine. I took a pill and it definitely helped.

I'm sitting here with a headache again. I went almost a year without any migraines. It was really nice. The BF and I were talking about how tired we are of having headaches. So, my first big want for February, I want to be without a headache all of the freaking time.

I'm also really tired. I know I joke all of the time about hanging out and not doing much, but a lot of stuff that I do is just exhausting because it is all brain work. I get home and I don't want to do anything. Walk the dogs, hang with friends. Nothing.

On the other hand, BF and I have discussed that I'm not sleeping at night, and I probably need to get more exercise. Quite the conundrum, don't you think?

Taking no chances

After yesterday's near miss, I thought it would be prudent to go ahead and blog now, rather than later.

At the moment I am on hold for GoDaddy because my log in for my soon to be cool website isn't working.

I'm not twittering too much because Betwittered this fun gadget on my igoogle page isn't working properly. Apparently Twitter thinks that Be twittered is one person posting a whole hellofalot rather than a bazillion people twittering through this application.

The fax machine is on the fritz but I can't just buy a new one because we are upgrading the school phone system and it seems not all fax machines will work properly with the new system.

The people that know and love me sit through long periods of silence on the phone waiting for me to realize I've (once again) put them on hold with an ear that operates independently.

Remind me of how great all this crap is.

1/2 I would have totally missed blogging today if Daisy hadn't just reminded me. If you followed my twitter/ facebook updates y

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2/2 ou would know this was a gastrointestinal day from hell. There. Nuff said

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28 in 28

Day one of the 28 posts in 28 days, which is fine in theory but a lot of pressure in reality. I don't know that I have anything to say today, but I'll be damned if I crap out before I even get started. That would just be wrong.

I spent the afternoon with my parental units yesterday. Had some gumbo for lunch (DE-licious) AND I got a to go container to have some for dinner.

We also bought a dressmaker's form for my bday. I'm totally on a sewing kick right now (although Mom is, technically, doing all of the sewing at the moment.) The dressform wouldn't be such a big deal if I were a straight size but I'm short waisted and just shaped funky. Sigh. At any rate, hopefully, this will help to make it easier to make the clothes. The first skirt is done, and the dress I'm hoping to wear to the opera in a couple of weeks is almost done.
Oh, and I shouldn't be blogging at all right now. I should be cleaning, but seriously, what fun is that????