Thursday, July 31, 2008

The rules

Last night, I drove through an ATM drive-thru the wrong way. It was not my idea. My passenger wanted to push the buttons herself. Beep. Beep. BeepBeepBeepBeep.  ATMs ask a LOT of stupid questions.  Spit me out 50 bucks! Hurry up!  I was panicked that someone was going to crash into me, head-on, in their rush to spring a twenty for a six-pack. Luckily, noone came, and my heart stopped wanting to jump out of my heart.

I am not a rule-breaker. I never have been. I have played my entire life by the rulebook. In my choice of colleges, in my career, in my love life, my finances, my mortgage… Sometimes, yes, I push the rules. I am outspoken, but always within the boundaries of the rules.

Its exhausting to know the right thing to do, and to do it, over and over and over. Its no fun. It s boring. Its lame. People who always do the right thing don’t have good stories to tell at parties. Or good stories to blog about.

So, I am allowing myself to make some mistakes. Intentionally. Things I know will end badly. I’m going to do it anyway. Because I want to. Because I care more about today than I do about tomorrow, or next month, or next year.

You can do the right thing, the safe thing, the practical thing, and still have it backfire in your face.  But, if you don’t take the chance, you’ll never know. If I can push through my panicky feeling.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

In the morning

I think what I miss the most about having a man in my life is waking up in the morning, his arms wrapped around me, before the alarm clock goes off, knowing you can stay there for at least ten more minutes before the day begins. If given a choice, I would rather have that than sex. For the rest of my life. Hands down. And I even like sex these days. Face it, there are battery-operated toys that can help me out occasionally, but nothing can substitute for a good spooning.

I have strange ideas about intimacy. I think holding hands in public is more intimate than having sex. Sleeping, bodies intertwined all night long, is CERTAINLY more intimate than sex.

I used to not like any displays of affection, in public or not. Perhaps because of my strange views on intimacy. Holding hands, embracing, casual kissing - it made me uncomfortable. I don’t remember a lot of hugging and kissing in my family, and certainly not between my parents, so I guess that could account for some of it. So in my early twenties, I pushed away physical displays of affection. Shit. For that matter, I pushed away emotional displays of affection too, but that’s a different story. Somewhere in there though, I changed into someone who wants to spoon all night long. Even if you snore. Even if I fart (I’m a vegetarian people, we eat beans.) And I want to hug on you if you are making me scrambled eggs. And I want to hold your hand in the car. And at a concert. And on the street.

Sigh. I just want his arms around me again…

Tuesday, July 29, 2008


I'm on vacation this week at the beach.  Cut off from everything.  No cable, no internet.  Just rabbit ears and books.  It was refreshing for a couple days but now its damn near unnerving.  I hate to admit it, but I came to the local StarYucks to catch up on emails and headlines.

So, while I was at it, I checked my eHarmony matches.  I'm tired of eHarmony, but have several weeks left on my subscription.  If I can get just one more free dinner before it ends, the subscription will have paid for itself. 

But, with the boys the system is sending me, dinner number three may never happen.  Here is how "Josh, 31" describes what he likes to do in his free time:  "In my free time, I enjoy doing many things.  From going to the bar and hanging out with my friends, to staying home watching tv and surfing the web."

Wow!  Sign me up!  At least he spelled everything correctly.  Does going to the bar, watching tv and surfing porn on the web really count as your many hobbies?"  I want to reach into the computer and shake Mr. Josh.  Snap out of it!  Live your life!  You are BOOOORRRRRRINGGGG!!!  BOOOOORING!  He works retail too.  How interesting!  

This, my friends, is why I am single.  I am judgemental, bitchy and egotistical.  And I do not date people who go to work (at the mall), watch tv, go to the bar, shower, rinse and repeat.  

Wednesday, July 23, 2008



I now know why a guy would not respond to your email, then call three times without leaving a message. He's taking a pass. Which is pretty funny, since the guy has the theme song to the Price Is Right as the music you hear when you call.

So, I was on the phone with my grandmother when he called for the third time. (Side story: grandma is on the brink of death and completely reliant on oxygen to stay alive - the power went out at her house. This is a big problem when your oxygen machine runs on electricity. She got her backup tank and was ok when I spoke to her. Please remind me of this story next time I want a drag off your cigarette). No message was left, so I called back. I was a bit tired of this crap.

So this time, I leave a message. He calls back and I answer the phone. We have nicey nicey chat for a little while, but I gotta tell ya, it was a bit forced. I struggled to find something to say. So, at one point, I said that I had to get moving to finish some chores, and would he like to go out again. There, see, who is the girl with the cajones?! ME.

I swear, this was his response. "I wanted to talk to you about that. I think I'm going to pass. I'd like to pursue other matches." Please. That's what you tell people on eharmony when you are totally grossed out by their picture, job, or personality so you don't actually have to meet them. But this is what got me. He said that I have too much energy for him and he wouldn't be able to keep up. This is a guy who built a deck last weekend, while I laid on the floor watching Gossip Girl (a truly horrible show, btw). But it confirms something that I have suspected all along: boys are intimidated by me.

More than one guy I have dated has told me that I make them feel bad about themselves - not because of my witty put-downs, but because of the way I lead my life. Having hobbies, leaving the house, working on political campaigns, being on the civic association and running my face into rocks makes guys who sit on the couch all day and do nothing but work, eat and sleep feel inadequate. Apparently, its a problem for the male ego when the girl is out carpe diem-ing.

He made me sad. Not because I liked him all that much , although he did seem fun, but because he rejected me (also because I wasted 20 minutes on the phone with him when I could have been vacuuming). He met me, had fun with me, bought me dinner, then decided to pass. This is not what I need to rebound after BB. I need a cute fun guy to fawn all over me. 2008 was supposed to be this great year, but so far, all I've gotten is rejection and a big fat black eye.

I've learned my lesson though. Next time I go out and there is a good chance a boy is buying, I'm not ordering the half price pizza. If you want to reject me, you gotta pay full price.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Who-whee!  I've done growed up and joined the real world!  I spent twenty bucks to register a domain name, just to make sure that nobody else tried to steal my blogger identity and sell me my own name for a ridiculous price.

You can now access my blog at "".  Or, if you like typing, you can continue to type in ""  

I've also learned how to use Flickr for photos - you all should be able to see pictures at work now.

The Final Black Eye Update

Ok, well, I think this is going to be the last black eye update.  But, did I tell you that I actually went out and purchased a whitewater kayak so I could do it again?  Yeah.  I'm not really that smart, despite what my mommy has told me all of my life.

So anyway, after four full weeks, the black eye is mostly gone.  I've still got a little puffiness, and the scar is definitely noticeable, but people are no longer recoiling in horror from me, and I haven't recounted the full story in almost a week.  

Now that the black eye is gone though, how am I going to make myself be the center of attention all the time?!

Black Eye 4wks, originally uploaded by SusanL2008.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Indigo Girls

An Indigo Girls concert is not a good place to meet men.

But it is a good place to prove those stereotypes that you try really, really hard to not repeat or believe in.  

I got offered a last minute ticket from my friend whose softball team was going together (stereotype #1).  The ticket was available because one girl was at a golf game (stereotype #2) all afternoon and got a little too drunk (not a stereotype.  I had no idea you could tailgate at a golf match).  The first softball girl that I met had arms that could crush a volkswagen and was wearing a shirt that said "you had me at homo."  I didn't really know you had to advertise your sexuality at an Indigo Girls show - its kind of assumed.  In addition to Ms. Homo/Hello there were mullets, rat-tails, spiky hair and awful, awful outfits (some including jumpers and skorts). And Doc Martins!  (stereotypes #3-7).

But for all that, there were a lot of happy lesbian couples, a couple happy gay guy couples, and a couple hetero guys looking a bit overwhelmed and scared (they were obviously forced to attend by evil acoustic loving girlfriends.  Perhaps they will get to play poker with their buddies tomorrow night to shake it off).  A bit disturbingly though, directly in front of us was what I thought initially was a mother and daughter.  Until the older woman in mom-jeans put her hand on the younger girl's ass.  Wow!  They cuddled later.  There must have been a difference in ages of 20 years - dude, that's like dating your mom.  Gross.  I guess there are hetero-cougars and homo-cougars.  Who knew?!

And, in the style of all concerts of 2008 so far, a drunk person in front of me puked, got up, and left it there.  It smelled.  :(

Holla Back?

Did I spell Holla right? I am such a white girl.

I was expecting some communication from Luke by now, but haven't gotten anything. Despite advice I got minutes too late from Kiwi, I emailed him today just to say hi and reiterate that I had a good time, yadda, yadda. It was a totally lame message.

Had I really, truly loved this guy, I would have called him the next day. I may have immediately emailed him when I got home to tell him how awesome he was. If he had truly liked me, he would have called to make sure I got home ok, or called the next day. I think we sometimes use "the rules" as an excuse to not call someone we really don't want to call! The "rules" would dictate that he call me 2-3 days after the date. Perhaps he was waiting until tonite, but who calls someone on a Friday night?

I hope my email didn't make me seem desperate.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Date #1 - Luke

I am trying SO hard to get back into the dating scene and actually enjoy it.  The problem is, I'm having a hard time separating going on a date with a long-term commitment.  I was in a  near panic as to whether I'm going to wind up in an LTR with the guy, while I'm drying my hair. BEFORE I met him!

Good lord!  What the hell is wrong with me?

Luke is my third e-Harmony date ever.  The first was the infamous BB.  The second, the not so famous kiss-forcer (who dropped off the planet, thankfully) and now Luke, a happy-go-lucky Parrot-head, grown up frat boy kinda guy. 

We met at a local casual tiki-deck kind of place, on the water.  A fairly nice scene for a Tuesday night date.  I was actually on time, he got there early and secured a decent table near the water (bonus points for extra effort).  He's an attractive guy, I think.  My problem, and I've said this before, I go for burly, hairy guys.  He was a nice height, blonde and not that hairy.  What the hell is wrong with me!?  I am sitting across the table from a blonde, blue-eyed, 6 foot tall guy who works out, owns his own home and is gainfully employed.  I should have been launching myself across the table at him.  Instead, I am wondering whether he is "right" for me.  Who cares?!  The guy is buying me dinner and beers!  And he might do it again, if I could get over myself for two seconds.  

Amazingly, we talked about 50/50, unlike the last time where it was the Susan Show for 4 hours straight.  He kept up.  He has eaten Boca Burgers.  Knows that turkey isn't vegetarian. Likes live music.  In fact, he is friends with most of the members of two locally famous bluegrass bands.  Bonus points again.

Normally, I get a little email from a guy afterward - "hey, had a great time!  Look forward to seeing you again..."  Haven't gotten that yet.  I'd go out with him again, but I'm not sure that I would initiate.

Monday, July 14, 2008

The D word

Breakups totally suck, but divorce?  Holy crap.  I've now spent the better part of two long weekends with my friend, whose marriage of three years is now over.  Its exhausting.  I've never been divorced and although I lived with someone for three years, I always knew that was going to end and was totally relieved when it did (I danced in the living room when I came home from work to my empty house for the first time.  And the second time.  And the third time...).  There was no resentment, no dividing of any major stuff, no dividing of debt or assets, and certainly, no lawyers.  

Divorce is different.  She feels betrayed, bitter, stupid for having believed in him, resentful and hysterically sad, sometimes alternating and sometimes all at the same time.  She's got to start her life totally over at the age of 32, and she already did start over at the age of 29, all for that jackass.  I don't know what to say to her most of the time - should I stay sickeningly Pollyana-esque? "Rah, Rah!  Now you can move to the beach!"  "Rah! Rah! Now you don't have to commute so far!"  "Rah! Rah! You can still find true love!  (Barf)"   Should I be bitter too?  "You should never get married again.  Men suck."  Should I say mean nasty things about him?  "He's a selfish prick who made up for his tiny penis with money and material possessions" (Disclaimer: I have no idea what size penis the jackass has, but I hope its really, really, really small) Should I say nothing at all?  I am the queen of saying the wrong thing, and being "funny" at completely inappropriate times.  I've been walking on eggshells for weeks trying to say the right thing at the right time.  I know that she will be way, way, way better off without him in the long run, but that's hard for her to believe right now and impossible for me to portray it to her in any meaningful way.

But, this blog is about me, not about her, so I'm going to bring it all back to me.  I am so pissed at her husband.  So pissed.  For making her miserable and ruining her life, but also for more selfish reasons.  I spent the last two summers nursing my dad back to health and sacrificing summertime fun and was so, so hoping that this summer was going to be the summer of ME!  Me, me, me, me!!  Now, I'll be nursing her back to happiness and sacrificing some of my unadulterated fun to help her.  Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't do it any other way and I want to be able to help her through this awful time in her life, but damn!  I wouldn't have to help her through this awful time if her soon to be ex-husband wasn't such a raging selfish jackass and if that whole "for better or worse" thing actually meant anything to him.  

I have a date on Tuesday.  I'm hoping I can shrug off some of my recently renewed disgust with men and relationships to avoid having him jump off the dock at the outdoor bar and swim for it.  But, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to.  

Monday, July 7, 2008

Bitterness justified

Just over three years ago, two college friends got married.  To each other.  I went solo, as I usually do.  But my close friends all attended the wedding with a significant other.  At the time, two were talking about marriage, and two actually were married.  

Do you know how many of those couples are still together, including the bride and groom?  Two.  And of those, one legitimately could have ended when he put her tens of thousands of dollars into debt because of a drug problem.  They stuck it out, but good lord, she's got more forgiveness in her than I ever could.  

Three short years...  I looked back at pictures of the wedding and found nothing but pictures of my three best friends in the world, smiling and holding hands on a flowered covered bench with the men who would eventually break their hearts and put a hurting on them financially.  With a track record like that, how can I possibly hope to be anything but bitter and cynical about my own love life? 

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Black-eyed Susan

I can't believe it took you, my sharp witted and sarcastic friends, 2 whole weeks before someday called me "Black-Eyed Susan" and giggled.  

Seriously, I'm disappointed.  Even more disappointed in myself, because it didn't even occur to me, despite my yard full of them.

More pictures soon, I'm just too lazy to download them right now.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Lame Excuses

"I can't give you what you deserve..."

Seriously, do they teach guys this phrase at the same class where they learn to put their hands behind their heads and smirk when getting a blow job?  Well, there are a few things you all need to know that they didn't teach you in class.

One of them is that we women know that "I can't give you what you deserve" is a cop-out of astronomical proportions.  Even if the woman you tell it to is too distraught to understand its underpinnings, her best friend knows and she is going to rat you out.  This line is designed so that the guy feels like a hero of sorts - sacrificing being with the girl so that she can find someone better, someone who will fulfill her every dream of happiness.  Fact is, guy is selfish and self-serving and doesn't care to sacrifice anything of himself to make the relationship work.

Has a girl used the line on a guy?  I'm sure, and in that case, the girl is selfish and self-serving too.  Right now though, I've got a friend who is hurting more than I can even imagine and that line started it, just like it did for me over three months ago.  So forgive me if I'm feeling a little anger pointed in the direction of the general male population this evening.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Why try in the summer?

Who was the brainiac that decided that June was a good time to sign up for eHarmony?  Oh right, that was me...

Casual dating in the summertime is a stupid idea.  Between being away on weekends, trying to keep the code inspectors away from my uncut grass, weeknight kayaking, campaigning, assorted work events and trying to see my actual friends every once in a while (oh yeah, and black eyes),  I don't have a free moment for months.  Hanging out with someone that I may or may not want to talk to in two weeks ranks pretty low on the totem pole.  

I have been trying to schedule a second date with J, the guy I went to a baseball game with on Friday the 13th, for weeks.  We were maybe supposed to go out on Saturday, but my eye was still disgusting (still is), plus, I really didn't feel like it.  Showering and putting on a date outfit (you know, clean jeans and a shirt that doesn't accentuate my muffin-top) seemed like an insurmountable hurdle.  So, I stayed home and promised him a weeknight date, but he's going away starting thursday, and I'm booked on wednesday so that leaves nothing.  I'm booked solid next week too, until Sunday, June 13th.  And seriously, if our first date was June 13, and our second date is July 13, what does that say to you?

It says, I don't like this guy enough to bother.  For a comparison, BB and I decided to be exclusive on the third day we knew each other and despite me being in school and him working 100 hour weeks, we managed to see each other 4 times in the first week (and have sex to boot!). So, when I really, really like someone, I make the time.  

Wow.  I should probably stop stringing this guy along, huh?