Week 2 in the shark tank

Front runner; Austin. That's right, another out of towner. At least he's in state though. Been texting non-stop. I like him, he has potential.

Following him is Fish face. (so named because in the photo I've seen he's making a kissy face which looks to me like a fish face. I would highly suggest he change it, but I think it actually plays into the character flaws I'm sure will become evident once we meet.) In addition, although he's a nice guy, interesting etc., he's a marathoner. I think he's looking for a running buddy, and let's be clear, I am NO ONE's running buddy. I may run, but I am not a runner.

In the distance, Mr. Baseball. He emails once a day, usually at midnight or so. If he were the only shark I would be so annoyed it's not even funny. As it is, I figure maybe by the time I work through this set, I'll be ready to call him up from the minors.

Pulling up the rear is the German. Bless his heart. The first to make contact, but we have never actually spoken. I can't figure out if he is shy or what. He's now called a couple of times and missed me. We can't quite get it together, so he may disappear before I ever get to meet him. Probably ok.

Back into the shark tank

So, I decided a couple of weeks ago, the best way to attempt to get over a broken heart would be to date again. Since I am in the world's worst profession for meeting guys I have returned to the glory that is Match.com. Shoot. Me. Now.

I was concerned at first because in the first 24 hours I had a strange old guy and not very cute young guy email me. This is it? This is what I've come to? I was worried.

Luckily things have picked up. I am now juggling conversations with 3 or 4 guys. Of course, the one that I like the most? He lives in Austin.

I have a guy that asked for my number and has proceeded to text me...tell me about yourself. Are you effin kidding me? Via text? So I said, golly gee that's a big topic... and he said, should we talk? Yeah, he's not gonna last long.

Two asked straight off why I was single. Oh how that one makes me tired. It just makes me want to ask why couldn't you manage to stay married? Just rude.

I keep having to take deep breaths. Dating is a beating. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.

Love, sharkbait

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.

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...

NaBloPoMo writing prompt

Why am I choosing to respond to this? Well, because my other choice is to actually work on the stuff that I have promised will be turned in TUESDAY. Oh, and that I have done nothing with so far. So, I still have plenty of time, and not enough pressure yet to actually get me busy writing on that.

The prompt is what is the first thing you notice when you meet a man/woman. Hmm, interesting.

I think this is an interesting question because it ties into my recent contemplations regarding Honesty. As in everyone says they want honesty but people don't seem to be comfortable being honest. Also, I think there are things we have convinced ourselves are not ok to say, for instance, "The first thing I notice is his ass."

Honesty. We all say we want honesty, but I have to ask, do we really? As a society, have we trained our loved ones and friends to lie to us? When a girl asks her guy, "Does this make my butt look big?" Is she really looking for an honest answer? Have we so trained our friends to not be honest with us? That is a totally depressing thought. I pray that I have friends that will be honest with me. That will tell me when an outfit isn't my best, that will let me know when I'm in the middle of making an ass out of myself, and that will look me in the eye and say you are screwing up when I am.

In the dating world, I am trying to be understanding that guys are scared to be truthful with girls. To say they don't want to go out again, to say they like you but not that much. What must they fear? Our crazy reactions? Crying? Screaming? Feeling guilty for hurting someone's feelings? Personally, I would so much rather have someone be honest with me than anything else.

First thing we notice. I HATE when people say the first thing they notice is anything other than PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS. Cause they are full of shit. Unless you are blind, you can't help but notice the physical cause you really can't notice someone's intellect or sense of humor on first LOOK. Let's just say it: we notice physical. Maybe we notice butts or hair or eyes or pecs, but we notice what people look like. It just is the truth.

Now, I will say that many, many years ago, I went to a bar with my cousin (and one of my very favorite people). I was googly eyed for the DJ. My cousin told me to look at the way he was talking to the people. That he wasn't being very nice. It was a good lesson. Beautiful people can be ugly inside and ugly people can be surprisingly attractive because they are such good people.

My friend, PhD, was asking me about what I am looking for in a man these days. I have to tell you. I have no idea. I know in my 20's I had a pretty damn long list. These days, it is pretty short.

I want honesty; no matter how hard that is to find. I want someone who is honest. And who thinks I'm funny. Ok, it would be cool if they were funny too. And they need to be good with money. Not necessarily rich (sure, I'd like to win the lottery, but let's face it, if I was really after money, I would have snagged someone by now, I am way pickier than that), but they do have to be able to balance a checkbook. We know I suck with money, and it's best if at least one person in any relationship can count. That's all I'm saying. I'm not sure if I can even come up with anything else.

I know there are things that are important that I'm not thinking about. So, you my friends, need to help guide me. Help me think about what really matters in a relationship. What am I not remembering that is important?

P.S. If you don't answer, I'll assume you so enjoy my disasters in dating so much you can't bear to help guide me and make dating easier!!

OK After going to dinner with my friend AP, I've realized I forgot faith. I definitely want someone who will go to church with me, and compentent. I'm not saying he has to make a ton of money but he needs to be competent at whatever he does career wise. Sounds like a no brainer, but I'm adding it anyway.

Back in the saddle again

I know you are dying to know the latest in the dating installment. I know it was getting boring so here we go.

Left message Sunday night, no call back.

6:30pm Monday sent text "Not to be difficult, but any chance you are going to call me tonight?"

He calls about 30 minutes later as he is going to dinner with a friend "Who he hasn't seen in a while" yeah, know how that is.

We talk for 15 minutes or so, and then I finally say, "You know you either need to tell me you don't want to date me or we need to talk." To which he says (in a fairly derogatory tone) "Yeah, I've lost interest in this whole relationship."

I said, "Thanks for being honest with me." I think he realized he sounded like a total jackass because then he changed his tone and started in on the "I'm 46 and probably will never find someone that is perfect" (Isn't he smart?) blah, blah, blah, I should have written everything down. I can't decide if he was planning on skitzing out or asking a bunch of questions or what, but I told him in the beginning that when the relationship ends the door wouldn't hit me on the ass on the way out.

At any rate, I said it is what it is and thanks again for being honest, have a nice dinner and goodnight.

So, now I'm a little pissed that he was jerky, I'm a little sad because there were a lot of things I liked about it, a little disappointed that it didn't work out and a little whiny at the thought of dating again, but I do it for you, my audience.

Back in the saddle again... oh and I defriended his ass on Facebook.

Where's the wall? I need a head beating

Although I have no wish to offend, I feel I must say I think God is just messing with me. Seriously, like he's up there all busy and all, and he looked down and said, that one, that is the one I am going to mess with with (insert evil laugh here.)

Last week was TAKS testing. Total beating. The long and the short of it is that I had 4 hours a day to watch kids test, paint peel and think...and think...and think. What did I think about? My dating life, of course.

So, the last two weeks have been spectacularly weird in dating land. I joined Mr. Potential at the lake a couple of weeks ago. (I got a speeding ticket on the way making it trip one to the lake loss of very expensive sunglasses in lake and trip two very expensive speeding ticket trip.)

Came home on a Sunday...didn't hear a word until Friday. So, we go out, and I have to say it was a little weird. I'm not sure if I could put my finger on it exactly, but it was weird.

I know he is going out of town for the weekend and then he was going to be working out of town the first part of the week. Thought I might at least get a phone call or something, but no, not a word. I knew he was back in town Thursday, so by Thursday night, I was a mess. Fine, apparently this relationship literally was going to end in silence. Woke up the next morning thinking my life was smelling pretty shitty, then I realized the smell was from one of the dogs and a bad episode of diarrhea... all over the area rug under by bed. Cool. (Did I mention the comforter had recently been barfed on too?)

So, I get to school on Friday for the final day of TAKS testing. Yippee. I go through a myriad of emotional responses to how I am feeling about being dumped silently. That afternoon I get a call from my yearbook rep saying the yearbooks were arriving this week not next. That totally sent me into a tizzy because there is a lot required to get ready to receive 240 boxes of yearbooks.

That night was the Video Tech Awards Banquet at which I was helping to give awards (always fun.) As we were about to walk in...Mr Potential calls. I let it go to voice mail. The message said he was alive and going to the lake the next day...

The whole not hearing from him thing makes me nutty. As much as I like being with him, I can't handle the not hearing in between. He's not a bad person, I just can't do this. OK, so I need to go ahead and pull the trigger, but trying to time calling is tricky, can't call too early cause he's not up yet, didn't want to get him as he was heading to the lake because reception would be bad, so I didn't call Sat.

I waited until I thought he was back from the lake...yesterday afternoon. I called (after writing what I wanted to say about 100 times and changing what I was saying about 200). Yeah, I got his voice mail. Are you FREAKING kidding me???? Honestly it is one of the reasons I don't ever call him. I ALWAYS get his voice mail.

So, now I have a headache and my stomach is all unhappy because I know we need to talk/end this and it hasn't happened yet. Auuuggghhhh

Dating and insanity are a bad mix

I am in an awful funk. First, allow me to say I have been messing around with girl issues for the last two months, and they are wearing me down. Second, I am having terrible sinus pain, I probably have a sinus infection, and sleep is an issue.

I got a new Iphone app which is very cool called Sleep Cycle. Now, the point is that you set the alarm and it wakes you within 30 minutes of the time at the point it is least offensive to your system to hear the alarm. It also has a graphing property that shows when you are in which stage of sleep. Looking at my sleep chart, it is obvious that a. I sleep like crap and b. the dogs wake me in the middle of the night or at the crack of dawn every single night.

So, last night was the first night of return to kennel time. Best part? Since the dogs were in the kennels, Cat decided to make a return to sleeping with me, so he kept jumping on the damn bed and trying to sleep with me.

As you might imagine, these things are making me slightly insane. Dating. Oh, how I hate dating.

Sure, I give myself lots of opportunities to analyze myself and try to figure stuff out.

For instance, I know nothing about the male species. I teach a roomful of girls all day long. My brother was out of the house by about the time I turned 6, and I have two sisters. Boys baffle me. One of my students suggested I get a book For Women Only. I read it. Very interesting. Men are strange creatures. So, then I got For Men Only (I actually feel better that I identified with so much of what was written. I am not crazy, ok, not totally crazy, and I am not alone!)

I have now been up to the lake with Mr. Potential twice. Both times very lovely. Do I feel confident about this relationship? Not at all. Honestly, I am fully prepared to never hear from him again each time we depart each other's company.

Basically, I am filling my time, doing my thing and trying really hard to not think about him or us too much so that I don't flip out and get skitzy. And, I think, wow, it really shouldn't be this way, but I think there is a pretty good chance as long as I am one of the players, it is this way. Know what I mean?

Honestly, I am not sure if I know how, let alone am capable of just relaxing and enjoying myself. Total Nutjob.

I am a pixie I mean something else

There I said it. I am frustrated and my feelings are hurt and when Mr. P finally calls, I'm too much of a pxssy to say anything.

I am totally disgusted with myself. I mean, what is wrong with me? How it is possible? I am a grown woman. I am independent. I have a job. I have self-confidence. I believe in myself. I am woman, hear me effin roar. BUT, BUT I can't manage to say to someone, hey, my feelings were hurt when you did this. How pathetic am I?????

At least I did say that I wasn't going up to the lake tomorrow. Big deal. I'm dying to go, and it means I'm not going to see him one more day, so really I am denying myself, but I didn't want to go by myself. (The vision in my head is that he gives me directions, I get lost, I get pissed, I'm cranky when I get there, he says WTF and we are done, so just best not to go, another weekend perhaps.)

Why is it so difficult? Why is talking to someone so hard? Why is dating so hard? Honestly, I have to tell you that if things don't work with Mr. P, I am not dating anyone else for a while.

At any rate, so I have got to gird my loins, get some courage, and talk to him. I think I need to go take a Tums. Maybe two.

One of THOSE days

Ok, actually I've been having one of those weeks. Between the time change and the whole "I did absolutely nothing over spring break" thing, I am exhausted to be back at work. Getting up at the crack of dawn. Working all day long. Meeting after meeting. It's killing me. And I'm not alone. I'm telling you this building is full of zombie teachers.
We are all wandering around lifeless, cursing the 64 days until the end of the school year.

This week has been particularly onerous because I've had soooo many meetings. Literally, every time I turn around, another meeting. AND, I've had stuff after school almost every day. AND Mr. Potential had his boss in town, so I haven't seen him all week, and I'm CRANKY about it.

Really cranky. If I'm lucky, I'll see him tomorrow, but then not Saturday or Sunday. Aaannnddddd

he texted me that he has to be out of town most of next week. GRRRRRRRRR. I know that I don't actually get to be cranky about him having to do his job, but I don't care. I'm annoyed. And displeased.

Oh, and when I went googling for pictures, these are what I found AND they were all snagged from other places too, so I can't even give legit credit to the original takers of said photos. Sorry.

Why are people so crazy?

Ok, fine, why am I so crazy? It's been a while since I've had time to blog. It's been a while since I've had something to blog that didn't make me sound like I am totally nuts. I'm ok BEING nuts, I just try not to let proof of it hit the internet too often. At any rate, I've obviously decided to go with revealing nuttiness and let the cards fall where they may...

We are in the final week before spring break. THAT alone could make me insane. This means that we are trying to finish the last 86 pages of the yearbook that MUST be submitted by Friday. (Oh, and technically I am only supposed to have 32 pages left to submit, clearly, that didn't work out for us.) The senior staff is choosing next year's senior staff and the rest of the staff. It is a lot of pressure and responsibility. And it totally freaks me out as much as I believe in the system because I am still putting my future in their hands. Oh, and we are pretty sure there is another batch of proofs out there waiting to arrive before spring break but likely to arrive so as to give us a minimum amount of time to complete said proof pages cause that's the way these things work. Auuuggghhhhh

Last week was a bit freaky deaky with an ex. I mean bizarre. I'm not even sure of how to explain it except to say I've always thought of myself as the girl that dates the guys that are ambivalent at best. So, to have a former turn a little freaky "how can you date anyone else cause I was buying you a diamond even though we talk every 5 weeks or so and let me call your mom and talk to her before going radio silent" was disturbing to say the least.

In addition, the personal relationship seems to have shifted to some new level? place? state? and since I have no long term dating experience that isn't totally screwed up, I have NO basis for determining if this is all normal, weird or what. It's making me nuts. really. nuts. At any rate, I've taken advice and decided to sit back take a deep breath or two and just enjoy the ride. Let's see how long this little zen moment lasts.

Valentine's Day, Marriage and Dogs

No, no, unwad your panties. They aren't as connected as you think.

So, with the recent passing of Valentine's Day, I have once again been faced with the gentle reminder that I'm really not a pro dater as it were. I actually have made it past 3 dates so few times that I don't even know what appropriate dating behavior is. Like what counts as normal behavior for a guy. (For instance, the first two weeks, the toilet seat was always down. It made me happy. I found a guy that always put the toilet seat down. Total crock. Now it's down to about 50% of the time.)

In addition, making it to almost two months was so very exciting that I went a wee overboard in the gift giving department for Valentine's Day. Well, first I got a good gift, then I thought of something better. Now, luckily I kept the first one (ok, it was a gift certificate, so it worked out I could use it ; ) because although he was very appreciative, let's just say the grocery store flowers, not quite equal to what I got him. Clearly, it is not as big of deal to hit 7 weeks as it was for me. I like the flowers, they were sweet, but still a casual, nice to know you but I'm not investing too much into this cause let's face it, this is still a new relationship kind of message.

On the other hand, we went out the night before, and he made etouffe for me Sunday, which I must add was totally delicious. So, that was very sweet, right?

This then leads to my friend, PR's, comment that dating for me is like age for dogs - you have to multiply by 7 to appreciate the true length of time so to speak. Cause really, this is probably like a year to most people. I am totally impressed with myself that this has lasted this long. And, I'll admit, fairly often I think, yeah, this isn't gonna last much longer.

Today, I finally opened my mail from Saturday. Included in the mail was an absolutely adorable "save the date" for a friend's daughter's wedding. She's 19. Adorable. Boy? Adorable. Wedding party? Adorable. And yet, the cynic in me thinks, good grief, everything is stacked against them these days. How in today's world of "you have to be happy" and "don't take that girl" and get a divorce when things don't go well, are they going to manage to get married and STAY married?

I will say that they were going to have a destination wedding, but I am so glad that they aren't. I hope that all of the people that show up for that wedding remember how important the part each person plays is. We will all have an obligation to help these two very young, very in love people to stay married. Ugh. The pressure.

At any rate, back to me. As things progress with Mr. Potential, I mostly think things are going well. We have fun, we enjoy each other's company. I'm still a little worried about a lack of excitement regarding Sabrina and Buddy, but I can't totally blame him for that. ( I came home yesterday to discover the towel I put on one of the chairs to protect it from their muddy little feet was ripped into shreds. Victim of the let's destroy shit game they so love to play.)

Sigh. This dating thing is tough. That's all I'm really saying.

Proof God has a sense of humor

I mentioned staying with my parents involved the TV playing at high volume. Always. I didn't mention that it usually had Fox news on from 4-11. Seriously. My dad loves that shit. He watches all the time. I hate Fox news. Mostly because I can't stand the talking, talking, talking. I might add that if my dad had loved watching CNN from 4-11 I would hate CNN. At any rate,

Mr. Potential? Yeah, he loves Fox news. So after dinner the other night, back to his house to watch a little Glenn Beck and Bill O'Reilly. It wasn't horrible. Mostly because I fell asleep. I'm really grateful that he limits himself pretty much to those two shows. I also think God is laughing. at me. a lot.

Feeling a wager coming on . . . ,

So, things are progressing nicely with Mr. Potential. He kicks ass. We are 3 weeks in and things are quite delightful. He's out of town for the next week, so I am feeling very confident that I can make a month. But let's be honest, long term relationships are not exactly my strong suit. And by long term I mean more than a couple of weeks, so clearly, we are all thinking that I should screw this up some time soon. Of course, Valentine's Day and my bday are coming up, so I'm totally going to be on my best behavior for the next couple of weeks. On the other hand, once I get the itch to run, I tend to run no matter what's coming up. Lord knows there are many avenues by which this could go up in flames. So, since I know you are already trying to figure out how this is going to crash and burn, here are the best bets in no particular order.

1. Sabrina and Buddy. He has met them, but they have not spent time together. As in, "Yes, those are big badly behaved dogs, now let's go to dinner." Although I have already put it out there that if the dogs are a deal breaker, he should tell me now rather than later because we are, as they say, a package deal, he says he doesn't think that they are that bad. HA. Perhaps I need to arrange a little quality time for them to be together.

2. Weird things don't happen to him. And I, as you know, am not normal. Most of my life is lived in chaos. Somewhat controlled chaos, but still chaos. Things go wrong. Often. Yesterday, I looked down and realized I was wearing navy hose. . . with a black skirt. The black skirt it turns out was missing a button, so that meant that the zipper kept falling down. (I actually can't swear to that corollary, but it's my blog, so that's my story.) I'm pretty sure these types of things don't happen to him. Well, sure, partly because I'm hoping he refrains from wearing hose and skirts, but also because I just don't think these things happen to him.

Earlier this week I arrived at school and started spazzing. I was missing my keys to the building and a deposit bag full of money. I was FREAKING. By the middle of the day we had found the bag of money (sitting by a computer, but I am telling you I didn't move it, damn thing grew legs and walked.) One of the editors thought it would be in the pocket of the coat I had worn the day before. I was so freaked I sent another editor to check. Sure enough, they were there. (The editor that went to the house went ahead and picked up the knife the dogs were eating and put it on the counter.) When I got home that afternoon I realized that she hadn't given me my keys back. Sigh. That was a whole nother messaroonie.)

3. He is neat and orderly. His house (did I mention how cute his house is? He had it built, and he has taste!) is clean. Always. Everything has a place. My house? Not so much. I'm pretty certain if he spent any length of time at my house he would break out in hives. Of course, I don't want to spend any time at my house currently because it is FREEZING since I can't actually afford heat. He can afford heat. Which of course leads me to

4. He has money. As in, he knows how to count and he saves money and spends wisely. As in he will probably flip his shit when he realizes he is dating a total numnut with no ability to count and a nice little debt she'll be paying off for quite some time.

5. He is a rational, concrete, sequential, logical guy. I, as you know, am not. See 2. Weird stuff happens to me. Rational, concrete, sequential, logical guys don't tend to know what to do with a girl that has such weird shit happen all. the. time.

6. He is totally gregarious and enjoys people. I have discovered that as the years go by, I don't like people. They annoy the hell out of me. On the up side, this allows me to primarily sit quietly and allow the noise and voices to flow around me without actually contributing that much, but long term, could be a train wreck. He likes everyone. Everyone likes him. He might actually want someone who is a little more chatty Cathy with strangers and such. I just don't have that kind of energy anymore.

7. Freaky Diva raises her head and I spaz about something totally stupid and minor and walk away (scratch that RUN) so that I don't get my heart crushed later. . . yeah, this one has my money.

I'm sorry, how much football will I be watching???

I have managed, quite adeptly I might add, through the years to not date guys that are in to sports. It helps that I haven't dated most of them more than twice, so although they might have loved sports, they did not enter my sphere of consciousness. It has worked out nicely.

It seems, as they say, the tide has turned. Cause Mr. Potential, he loves him some football. Really. A. Lot. In the two weeks I have known him, I have watched 4 football games. FOUR.

On the upside, I have totally impressed the BFF with my stunning array of football knowledge and trivia in the last two weeks. She has informed me that I may be Biscuits (young son's) pole position favorite aunt with my new found ability to discuss all things football.

Mr. Potential looked at me sweetly last night and said, "You only have four more games this season, well, maybe a couple more, but we're almost done." It's nice that he recognizes this is not my usual MO. And, it gives me time to get some reading in.

All I really have to do is look up occasionally and say, "Oh, my" or "Good grief" or "Wow, look at that" the key is to make the right comment at the right time. And it turns out, if I manage to time it just right with the right look of enthusiasm, he gives me a proud smile and a kiss. (Who says we don't all operate on the treat system?!)

Someone suggested making a game out of it, you know, when your team scores, the other person has to kiss you, that kind of thing . . . please, God, let the Cowboys game Saturday night be high scoring . . ; )

Please note: this was actually written on Wednesday. I've just been a little busy and possibly distracted.

What is it about New Year's Eve that makes us so reflective? Why aren't we more reflective on our birthdays? (with an ugly one approaching, I'm certain to be more reflective this year than most.)

What about Easter? For those that go to church, this should be a biggie. The Easter resolution has to be one worthy of someone dying for our sins. Those would be serious resolutions, none of these wimpy, gonna lose weight and find a man bullshit.

As a teacher, August is always a good time to reflect on how I want this school year to be different from any other. I will be calmer, more organized, etc, etc, etc. I will stretch the kids more. I will use technology more.

But here I sit, New Year's Eve watching my comforter circle about as I hang at Soapy's, my local Laundromat, thinking about what I want for 2010. Obviously this list includes bedding that doesn't smell like dog. I'd probably be closer to achieving this one if I actually kept the dogs off the bed, but then what fun is that??

I look back, and I think I have to ask myself if I am getting closer to enlightenment and becoming the person I want to be or not? Hard to tell sometimes.

If I were to be succinct, I would say I resolve to be the person God wants me to be in every area of my life, but I think we all know I'm more verbal than that.

I think I have been amazingly lucky in my lifetime in friendships. Friends are the family we choose. I am surrounded by people that support me and help me be a better person. My goal is to be the friend that all of these people have been to me.

Family. Oh, what can I say? The beginning and end of so many insecurities, fears, pain and hurt. They can raise me up and bring me crashing down. We each have our own M.O. for handling the family dynamics and entangling webs. Refusal to engage in the family dynamic but throwing oneself into the woes and lives of people never met? We've got that. A true Scarlett O'Hara, refusing to acknowledge and face problems? Forcing others to swallow whole whatever is eating them up? We've got that too. Total indifference and minimal communication with the family? check, check. This is an area I could make several resolutions, but it is a dangerous minefield. Perhaps turning 40 and dealing with family dynamics is a mistake. This one might hold.

Romance. Well, hmmm. It's been quite a year in that category. Who knew that I'd hit my stride this late in the game? I've gotten to meet all types. I've gotten to face the truth that "never married" doesn't mean "no luggage." I let one man screw me up and leave me with way more baggage than I should have. But, I've also gotten closer to knowing I'm OK with me. By myself or with someone else, I'm OK.

To be honest, I'm still excited that a week before New Year's Eve, I met a guy, with Potential. Smart, funny, thinks I'm sexy, makes me feel special, cooks for me and a really good guy. Will it go somewhere? I hope so. I also hope my super freaky, don't want to lose control insecure self doesn't jump ship and run. Cause I think that side is at war with the side that knows she deserves a really great guy. On the other hand, dating has provided much of the fodder for this blog. Not sure how entertaining I'll be if I get into a boring relationship...screw it, you people are on your own ; )

Reduction of inventory: (That's what my friend, Pam, used to call it when she got rid of stuff. I'd like to add that frequently involved bringing stuff to me to inherit.) Selling my house made me sad, no doubt about it. Mostly because it was a true home with neighbors I loved, and it just made me happy. But selling the house, well, it was also freeing. As I look around at the "stuff" I have collected through the years, I am realizing it is time to for me to start letting go. I am taking advantage of the wonders of the Internet and my friend, Craig to sell as much as I can. I'll have an old fashioned garage sale in the spring.

This place is small so I have to make hard choices about what is important in my life and what isn't (at least "stuff" wise) I'm starting to really dig letting go. I hope 2010 leaves me a leaner more streamlined Diva.

The Temple (aka the body people). As you might have surmised, I'm unable to look beyond the big bday especially as I begin to deal with doctors visits, and the pains and aches that seem to come with getting older. I made some big decisions a few years ago based on my desire to change my way of life as I approach middle age. I don't regret any of my choices. Losing the gall bladder did more to straighten up my eating choices than any decisions I made (something about not being able to eat FAT without suffering terribly does that), but even with the problems, that's worked out nicely. I suggest gall bladder removal for everyone, but word on the street is that it doesn't always work as a diet method. Lots of people have cooperatives livers that take over immediately and happily all gall bladder duties.

I began working out a month ago, and I'm pretty sure if it doesn't kill me, it will make me stronger and put me in better shape than I've been in my entire life. I'll have to have a special blog post on that. It's walking distance from house, so that should help tremendously on the stick with it front.

Finances. Damn them. They always make the list. Selling the house put me on the right path and took a huge amount of stress and pressure off of me. I've streamlined, made some changes and, if I can stay focused, I'll move much closer to being debt free.

Well, now I'm watching the comforter circle in the dryer. I hope 2010 brings good things for me and you. All five of you. . . hahahahahah

Looking back on annoying men 09

As it turns out, all of the really annoying men managed to converge on one evening. So, I roll over to Kirby's looking for my usual Cosmo/Steak evening. I slide up to the backside of the bar. It's actually really nice that they now HAVE a backside of the bar. It allows one to enjoy a beverage without actually having to talk to too many people. In addition, I was working on my thank you notes.

No, I didn't get that many gifts this year, but the parents contribute to the teacher lunches. (It's a fund that gets divided up, and however much there is, that is how many lunch tickets each teacher gets that month - that's right, free food. I love that shit.) At any rate, when they contribute, they do so in a teacher's name, so at Christmas, I write a mass of thank you notes.

At any rate, boy 1 shows up. He has floated around before, fellow barfly, who, near as I can tell, doesn't handle his liquor well, cause he gets plain stupid when he drinks.

Then the guy that bought me drinks but then walked the tab, shows up. He doesn't actually talk to me (I'm not even sure he saw me) but it annoyed me all over again that he was such a jackass that he SAID he was covering my tab, just to. . not. Whatever.

Then, I get a message from the drummer. Just calling to say hi bullshit. Go away I say. Must we have a conversation about that fact I really liked him and he...just...didn't like me back?? Crikey man, go away.

In the meantime, fellow barfly annoys me to the point I have to pay my tab and leave. Late that evening he sends a note saying he'll call me sometime. I controlled the urge to send a note back that says please don't.

Dear Lord, please let 2010 turn out to be better for me man wise than all previous years. Not that I've just set the bar high with that one, but still.

Another trip with Blondie

Well, our adventures in Journalism conventioning have begun. We arrived yesterday afternoon. Blondie and I were greeted at the airport by the BFF. She, in case I haven't mentioned it lately, is the coolest. She brought Cranberry Juice (for my morning medicine routine) and crackers. And great big hugs which I have been needing desperately. Her very existence is God's gift to me.

Once my other friend, Mrs. Jostens arrived, we headed out to grab a taxi. Cab driver, a lovely man, managed to take our conversation on the beautiful fall foliage into a discussion of politics. We said, "Gee the leaves are beautiful" and he said, "They look better since George Bush left." huh.? He continued on his happy monologue regarding GB.

We arrived at the hotel, still confused by the ramblings of our cab driver which segued to his love of Hillary Clinton for standing by her man by the time we were exiting the car. We mentioned to the front desk personnel the strangeness of the cab ride, and son of a bitch if he didn't start chastising us about talking about politics in DC. Really?

The room is great. With three of us sharing, there was some concern re: size. It is great. sofa, two chairs, two beds and a desk and chair.

We went to a fabulous steakhouse in the W hotel. Sooo good. The hotel has a rooftop bar that is very hip, trendy and cool. (I'm lucky they even let me in.) Dinner was courtesy of Mrs. J. Thank you!!

This morning we got up and headed over to the convention. Today's cab driver rocked cause he knew where there was a 7-11 on the way!

Oh, and by the way, last night I was able to talk to the drummer. I've known I needed to gird my loins and just ask what the deal is. He confuses me, it seems liked he isn't all that in to me, but he does call and ask me out. So, yeah, not that into me. Totally awkward and uncomfortable and really no fun. Not to mention totally an ego killer and heart crusher. Yes indeed the good times continue to roll for the Diva.

Contemplations on dating

Well, as I sit in a Gawdawful workshop/conference learning about how to make engaging classes, which I assure you isn’t happening here, I am contemplating what to write next on ye olde blog. My mind wanders and I think about dating in one’s 30’s and 40’s. And, I think about the things I need to remind myself of the most as I proceed into the murky waters of a dating relationship.
Speed, in either direction can cause fatalities. Clearly, moving too fast is a danger in and of itself. Historically this has been my vice. I go rushing into a relationship filled with the giddy joy of attraction. As it turns out, my “relationships” barely make it to the third date before crashing and burning, so I don’t deal with the undesirable by products of sleeping with someone early in the relationship. Yea, me.

It is an interesting situation to find myself with someone who moves shockingly slowly. I am beginning to realize that it is probably a product of his own concerns about making good choices etc, and I know it is good for me to work on slowing down. However, is there a point at which a relationship falls into inertia from lack of movement? I don’t think we are there, but I think it is worth noting as a possibility. I do appreciate his desire to go slowly. I think one of the hardest parts of dating is trying to get a guy to slow down. It is strange indeed to be wishing he would hurry the hell up.

Be real. My cousin, San Francisco, gave some good advice recently too. First, he made me laugh cause he said at our age men move slowly ‘cause they are trying to determine the level of crazy that they are dating… But the great piece of advice had to do with how easy it is for us to start relationships thinking the other person is fabulous and amazing. He thinks that it is important to start real and remain real. It became real for me when the Drummer told me how fantastic I am. That is really nice, but let’s be honest, there are lots of girls way better than I am. I know that, and I am ok with that. I bring my own uniqueness to the table, but I know that there are lots of girls more everything than I am.

Listen to your heart and not your friends. Oh, this is a hard one, isn’t it? (Especially for the extraverts.) I’m a talker. I need to talk through my feelings and thoughts. That means the BFF and the big sister and strategic others get to hear me process all of my relationships on an almost daily basis. I am lucky to have them and they give great advice. The BFF said it best though. Early on, she asked the question, “What does your gut tell you?” It is important to remember no matter what we tell others, there are pieces of the puzzle no one but the people in the relationship can know. Me, my gut and my heart give the best information and measure on a relationship. Just have to remember to pay attention.

Don’t be afraid. This, my friends, could be the rub. Especially if one has been dating for as long as I have, it is hard to not be fearful. Dating is hard. No doubt about it. I have always laughed at people who feel not having been married = less baggage. Paleezzeee. If anything, it means more baggage. Over 20 years of dating, I have dated a lot of freaks and developed some healthy walls for protection. Someone that has been married twenty years has one suitcase courtesy of primarily one person. Figure out what went wrong in that marriage, and you know their luggage. Me, gonna have to put some effort into figuring out the shit I’m hauling around.

I got some great advice from my friend, Sergio. I was telling him about the Drummer and my fears and concerns. He told me to let go. To enjoy the moments. Falling in love is a great thing, and I should enjoy myself. My sister, yougottawonder, said the same thing. Don’t be afraid. How easy is it, after years of dating and heartbreak, and dating and heartbreak, to hold myself in and not quite let myself go.

I wish I had looked up commitment phobia while I was dating the Yoyo. (As I entertain myself in the conference from Hell I am Googling all sorts of stuff.) I read through an article on commitment phobes, and lo and behold if the yoyo didn’t get a check mark by most of the descriptors. Could I have saved myself a lot of time, heartache and pain if I had realized accepted that I couldn’t change him?

Well, as my adventure with the Drummer moves forward, these are the thoughts that wander through my mind.

Annoyances from last night

I'm not sure if I can get across in type how annoying the entire evening was (except of course the part where I got to watch the drummer do his thing. Rhythm and arm strength. ; )

Met up at a friends, D. Another girl was already there. We shall call her Numnut cause she is the star of this particular show. Last girl showed, Wallflower. Lovely girl, but quiet and a bit of a watcher.

I don't even know how to describe the various ways Numnut annoyed me through the evening.

Actually it might be fun to go backwards. When we got in the car to leave the restaurant/bar, she almost immediately got on the phone. It's one o'clock in the morning, and she would rather call guys and wake them up than talk to the other 3 people in the car.

While on the phone with said guys, she squealed. And by squealed, I mean like a freaking pig, almost gave me a heart attack as I tried to drive through pouring rain without killing us.

As I pulled the car up to the door (I'm a polite driver, after all, it was raining) the waiter comes running up to Numnut. She walked the freaking tab. She tried to give a line about how she would never walk a tab etc etc, but as we waited for the waiter to come back, and D kept saying I thought those guys bought our drinks, Numnut said, "Oh, I heard the one say that he wasn't paying for our drinks." Um, then who exactly did she think was paying that tab if she wasn't?

I started trying to leave the establishment at about midnight. Two of the other three finished drinks and began acting like we were leaving. She made no move to finish her drink or to get her ass in gear. So, I finally got up and said, "I'm leaving, if any of you would like a ride home, I suggest you follow me."

I had been sitting quite happily in a booth with Wallflower. We couldn't really talk because it was so freaking loud, but I could see the drummer, I was happy. But, D at some point got a burr up her saddle and decided that we had to all be at the table they had barged in on right in front. Of course, my view? Totally blocked. Not happy.

As I prepared to sit my ass down at the new table, Numnut spills her red wine all over the table. So totally annoying.

On the trip to see the band . . .some of these beauties fell from her mouth. .
"So, tell me your story."
"You're 39? I've never known anyone that old that hasn't been married."


Weird conversation turns to boobs.
"Or you could go braless"
"Oh" I say, "never braless"
Giggle. That's an inside joke for the back row of the car. Really? Cause there are only 4 of us in the car. Twit.

Ok, that pretty much sums it up. Totally. Annoying. Stupid. Girl. Almost ruined my evening. Spectacular. Fantastic. Drummer. Makes. Evening. Better.