Sex and the City

I’m on my girls’ vaca/spring break with my BFF. For the uninitiated, this involves a lot of sitting around, a little bit of errand running, daily child drop off/pick up and lots of hanging out. The hanging out part…the BEST. We spend a lot of time talking as we go about our days no matter what, but this way we are actually together doing nothing. The cosmo cafe in the afternoon in her kitchen is utterly delightful as well.

For us, part of the joy…well that would be our Sex and the City marathons. Oh, how we love that show and the girls. Sadly, it reflects far more of my life than it does the BFF's. I have always loved Miss Carrie Bradshaw. In fact, frequently I have tried to channel Miss Bradshaw as I wrote my blog. I haven't always been successful. And sure, I am not a big city girl, shockingly beautiful or dating lots of men, but still. I think big thoughts ; )

I find that I am contemplating Carrie Bradshaw’s life, my own life and lessons I’ve learned dating.

First and foremost, I take pride in saying, I am crazy as any girl a guy is likely to date, but God help me, he will never know it. My crazy I keep on the inside…well and in many long tortured conversations with the BFF and other close confidantes. But the men, they don't get to know that.

An ancillary point to this is that all men expect every woman they date to be crazy. I have heard enough stories to know this is actually a reasonable expectation. I hate to admit it, but it is true. Women have a tendency to behave badly in relationships. I hate that. I wish it were different. I wish, in general, there were more best friends out there helping girls to not be quite so crazy.

Next, don't pick up the phone. Don't call, don't text, don't email. When I was a young lass, I can remember my mother telling me I was never to call a boy. Didn’t matter if it was to get homework or to ask a question or what…no calling the boys. Years later, this is one of those lessons that I must admit, mother knew best. If a guy wants to talk to you…he’ll call. Otherwise, you are really just bugging him. It is really hard to do at times, but just such a good idea: don't call 'em. They will call you. If they aren't calling you, well, that is information. May not be the information you want to be getting, but it still information.

This next lesson, girls have a terrible time with this lesson, I think it hangs nicely off the last one. There is no such thing as closure. We so hate for relationships to end. We want them to be finished neatly and put away. I have a friend of mine who said he got a call from the woman he was dating. She invited him over for dinner, and to tell him that she was dating someone else. He was to say the least perplexed. Why did she think that conversation required a meal? A call would have been fine, in fact, she probably didn’t need to call, she could have just waited until he called her the next time. At any rate, I can’t tell you how many girls I know that call guys because they want to know WHY the relationship ended and WHAT happened. I have bad news girls, they are never going to be fully honest, and you will never feel satisfied. Just walk away and know that it is over. That actually IS your closure.

Lesson five, my friend PR is always reminding me is to protect my heart. If I am going to step out and take a real chance with someone, I should try to be sure that he is stepping out too. It is quite awful to find yourself out on the plank as it were, alone. Looking around trying to figure out how you ended up there ...alone.

I may have to add to this post later...I know I've learned more, but these are the ones most on my mind.

I love Miss Britt

I love Miss Britt. She is a badass. She is on a journey. She and her husband have decided to sell their belongings and hit the open road with their kids for a year. In the process, she is discovering what stuff is and isn't. What things in life are important and what things ...aren't.

Right now, she is my goal. I am on a mission. I am getting rid of things. I have too much stuff. I don't need this much stuff.

I'm pretty certain I'm freaking my parents out, but how can I watch as many real estate shows and hoarder shows as I do and NOT find myself wanting to reduce inventory. I am going to spend the next 3 months figuring out just what possessions mean the most to me and that I actually use, and then I am getting rid of the rest. Craig's list...here I come!

A funny thing happened on the way...

I went up to the parentals Sunday evening. Sabrina and Cat were cremated, but they were waiting to be buried under new rose bushes. It's just a thing we do. I'm pretty certain when it is finally time to sell my parents house we are going to have to include a "don't dig under the rose bushes" disclaimer.

Dad started the holes, I finished them, and mom lit the candles that we placed on their wee graves. Then we drank to lives well lived.

Monday morning, well, Monday morning I rolled out of bed, pretty sure I did not brush my hair and threw clothes on. Absolutely no make-up. It was chilly so I added my favorite blue fleece. Very old, very full of dog fur. SEXY.

On the way to the airport I had a vague memory that I had a first class ticket. I was traveling on miles, and there weren't any cheap seats available, so I figured how better to start my holiday than in first class. So, as all this came back to me, I thought to myself, I have anecdotal evidence that God has a sense of humor, I am totally going to end up next to someone cute. Yeah, you know what's coming.

As I walked towards my seat (row 5 seat A, thank you very much), and saw my seat companion, I once again kicked myself for looking like shit. I mean, really. Of course he was going to be totally hot. Dark hair, dark eyes, just HOT.

We spent the next two hours talking. It was really, really nice. By the end, it was obvious there was a connection, but how much of one and would we really do anything about it? He wanted me to go out that night, but it seemed wrong to immediately abandon my BFF, so I told him I couldn't. BUT he was only in town for the night and headed back to his home town of Orlando. What? This will never work. I am going to meet a guy on a plane and he isn't even going to be from Dallas? So, so wrong.

He gave me his info, I gave him mine, he walked me to the baggage carousel, (where I was picking up my new Europe luggage. HUGE. LEOPARD SKIN. HARD BACK. That should have scared him.) Then we stood on the curb and waited for the BFF.

She showed up. Waved, yelled, called. I was ...distracted. She finally got my attention, and I was off. A few more text messages, some talk with the BFF, next thing I knew, I had borrowed clothes and made plans to meet with Mr. Airplane. The good news is that I swear I looked so bad on the plane, it wasn't difficult to improve on that look. The better news is that he is very good for my ego. (On a side note, I still need to write about St. Patrick's Day fun on Greenville Ave. This very topic came up. I want someone who will be as crazy for me as I am for him. There is a lot to be said for someone being crazy for you.)

O.M.G. That's all I got. Fantastic conversation, very interesting, charming and a possible keeper? I know this is not the first time I have thought a guy had great potential. But Mr. Airplane is rocking it right now, and he is just fantastic looking AND he likes me. Hang on, I have to go fan myself off for a minute.

...

...

OK, I'm back. No details for now. We had a lovely date last night. BFF picked me up at the Metro and now I am back to my little vacation. All I shall say about my interlude, is perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...

Now I'm bulletproof

Have I mentioned I am going to Africa? Well, a funny thing happened on the way to the forum...

I work at a fairly (read this as very) affluent school district. We invite "gurus" of the industry to come speak to our staff and to work with us as we improve what we do. Turns out one of these gurus said that a problem with American students is that they have no empathy for the rest of the world. Go figure.

In an effort to build relationships and forge bonds with our brethren around the world, a position was created within the district, let's call it "global guru." So, GG starts working on finding places via the internet also interested in forging relationships. Lo and behold, if a district in Ghana didn't say, Helllloooo there.

Long story short, yours truly is on the short list of 3 people going, GG, a middle school teacher and yours truly.

Yesterday, MST and I go to get a yellow fever shot which we know we must have to be able to go to Africa. We had been told we had to pay for our own shots, but we figured what the heck.

The very nice lady at the "so you want to leave the country, here's what you have to do to stay alive" office went through a very long list of diseases we could get etc. Disturbing to say the least. Yellow fever, my ass.

In addition, it seems that rabid animals are a bit of a problem too, but there is nothing you can do about that. The instructions? "If you are scratched or bitten BY ANY ANIMAL, you should EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY." Sweet Christmas, great. fantastic. can't wait.

She then goes through exactly how much it would cost and how many shots would be required. Let me tell you, had I known in advance, not sure that there would be a plane ticket with my name on it... Not. Kidding.

I left the office and immediately went to get a drink because my ARM REALLY HURT.

Then I concocted the note I was going to write to the superintendent in my head (and the principal and the head of curriculum and my friend PR because, well, that's the kind of girl I am). Which I did. See below.

To whom it may concern,

Yesterday I went to Passport Health in preparation for the trip to Africa. I was expecting one lone yellow fever shot. I received EIGHT shots inoculating me against every major disease on the planet. I return in a month for TWO more. The total cost...wait for it...$1150.

That being said, I would like to officially offer myself up for any and all trips to scary places that require shots. Because I have my shots, and they were expensive, and the only way to get my money's worth is to go EVERYWHERE.

So, with total dedication and a lot of pain in both arms right now, I say, I'm ready to serve.

Your devoted employee,

The Diva

I haven't heard back from anyone. What's up with that? At any rate, as the BFF said, with all those shots in me, I am practically bulletproof! Hence, my desire to travel the world while I am fully immune to all diseases. Except for rabies. Which is unfortunate because I am a tasty morsel to the dog population of the world. Other than that, I am bulletproof. Oh, and the flu. I hate flu shots, so I don't ever get those. I could get the flu still. Other than that, I am bulletproof. Well, and the common cold. There's no defense against that, and let's be honest, I work with wealthy kids, but they still get sick, a lot if you ask me. Aw screw it, I am only bullet proof against the following illnesses: yellow fever, polio, mumps, measles, rubela?, typhoid, Hepatitis A, Hepatitis B, Malaria, Dengue and cholera.