Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Getting better

I just wanted to send out a quick thank you to all of you for your concern, support and kind words - even though I have yet to go into details about what is happening.  Noone is dying (but that doesn't mean I don't want to kill someone); everyone is healthy (but my head needs a shrink.  But seriously, what's new about that?!); and we are working through the situation.

What I am trying to do right now is to get to the point at which I can separate the actions of others from my own life.  I have no control over the choices other people make, and I have to decide for myself whether I am going to make it my problem.  Too bad for me that it seems I have already made the decision to make it my problem.

I do want to tell the story, but it is a long one, and it is extremely embarrassing to me.  I hope that when I tell it, you can listen with an open mind and that maybe it will let you see the other side of tragic stories you see on the news almost every day.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Turn for the worse

Last Wednesday, I was looking forward to eating bad take-out food, drinking bad red wine and laying on the couch, watching whatever bad television show I could find (not usually that difficult, particularly on Wednesday).  It didn't happen.  Instead, I wound up curled in a ball, sobbing, and wondering why this was happening again.  And what I've done to deserve it.

I'm not ready to talk about it with most people yet.  I'm not sure I will ever be able to blog about it.  Let's suffice it to say that you can't pick your family, and sometimes they make your life hell.  I light of this, all my cutesy little stories about boys, and dating, and not-dating seem silly and pointless.  

So, if you were wondering where I've been and have been missing my neurotic posts, I apologize.  I even had stuff to blog about, like a brand new creepy stalker man, but I just can't right now.  I don't have it in me.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Match.Con

"Join eHarmony or Match just like every other lonely person out there."  -Susan, Yesterday

So I did.

I couldn't stand it anymore.  Today, I got another notice that "someone" had emailed me.  That crap absolutely drives me crazy.  I know they need to make money and all, but can't they come up with a better method to sucker you into paying money and joining?  Its almost cruel.  

Out of 90 people that have viewed my profile, I have now received three emails and a "wink."  None of them from the guy that I saw and crushed on immediately.  One, disappointingly enough, was a guy I had been emailing with on eHarmony.  His email basically said "hey!  We emailed on eHarmony a couple months ago.  I enjoyed it.  Want to continue?"  Of course he enjoyed our email swaps.  I'm freaking funny.  He on the other hand, more of a computer nerd who had very little to say.  I'm holding off on emailing him back.

Because really, who are we kidding?  I really don't want to go out on dates.  Not with people I don't 100,000% love.  Even when the dinner and beers are free, its SO much damn effort.  

There is a slight chance that I will try to cancel within three days, which I think they allow you to do.  So, I emailed crush boy.  First emails are always so totally awkward.  "Hi internet boy.  You are cute.  You should date me.  Email me back or I will cry.  And then run off to make myself feel better by having sex with my ex-boyfriend person."   Instead of that sentiment, I told him that I was impressed by his profile; in particular how open he was about his religious views (which are just as abnormal as my own).  God.  I'm not even sure that I'm in a place where I could clear my head long enough to deal if he emails me back.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Out of the Blue Proposition

Wow. I just totally, out of the blue, randomly, got asked out over email by a guy I've met like twice and who I haven't seen in well over a year and a half. No, scratch "guy" - and replace with "man." Cuz this dude is old. O. L. D.

I recently found out that there are plans afoot for a big, nasty gas station right in front of my neighborhood. So, I frantically sent out an email to my old civic association members begging them to take a stand and actually do something other than complain. This is what I got back from Old Guy:


I am responding to your mail for personal reasons because I found you to be a very interesting and intriguing woman, in addition to a beautiful one. I am assuming you are single and I apologize if I am incorrect. In case you don’t remember me, I am a larger than average guy with a beard. I have been in a relationship since before I purchased my home in the neighborhood. That relationship no longer exists and I would like to invite you to have dinner with me so that we might get to know each other better. Any chance you might be interested? I look forward to hearing from you.

Oh my god. For real? Luckily for me, in the blah blah background part, he said he had actually moved out of the neighborhood.

Besides the totally creepy part, seriously, he was totally right when he noticed that I am a very interesting and intriguing woman (and beautiful to boot) - so why then would he assume that I'm single!?!? Holy crap! If I'm beautiful, intriguing and interesting, wouldn't that lead you to assume that someone has already locked me down? Why would you think otherwise? Perhaps he thinks that if I had a man in my life I wouldn't be so damn mouthy all the time? What total balls for him to send that email.

I do remember this guy from meetings, and he is larger than average, and probably hairy, so physically, just my type. But he's 45, maybe 50. Way too old for me. He always was extremely friendly to me, and smiley. Now I know why. He had secret dreams of getting in my pants.

So, how do I handle the situation? Is there anyone out there in the interweb who thinks I should go out with him? Am I missing out on a good thing by not taking a chance on grandpa? I mean, I read all these memoirs where the perpetually single girl finally finds love with a guy 20 years her senior, why not me? But, what I would prefer to do is thank him for the kind email and gently tell him that I am in a relationship (whatever, its not a total lie. I am having sex with my not-boyfriend person) and wish him luck. I'm sure he is lonely, but really, that's not my problem. Join eHarmony or Match just like every other lonely person out there.

Friday, October 17, 2008

Friday Night Lame

For the second Friday night in a row, I watched Wife Swap.

And liked it.

Its definitely a new low.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

48 hours on Match.com

I revenge date.  Or at least, I revenge put my profile online.  This is what happened on Tuesday and now I just feel silly.  And I remember all the many reasons that I hate internet dating. Match is just as bad as eHarmony.

I made my profile visible, but I didn't pay for a subscription.  Paying for a subscription seems pretty final to me.  I'm cheap - if I pay for something, I'd damn well going to use it.  If I pay for Match, I'm going to talk to new boys, and go on dates with new boys and the thought of that exhausts me and I'm not ready and I just don't want to.  So why the hell I made my profile visible is totally beyond me. 

Match gets you to pay by slowly pulling you in...  As a non-subscriber, you can view all the profiles your little heart desires and you can "wink" at boys.  You can see who has "winked" at you, but if someone likes you enough to actually send an email you get a notification that "someone sent you an email!"  To see the email, you have to pay.  To see who has clicked on your profile, you have to pay.  And once you get an email, you want to know who sent it.  What if it was that perfect guy?!  When in reality, its probably that guy that likes to hunt and go "4-whillin."  But you still want to know, because, what if it really was the cute, smart guy?

After 48 hours of my profile being visible, 40 guys have viewed me.  This could be one guy looking at my profile 40 times, or 40 different guys.  I have no way of knowing.  Of those, one has emailed me (but I don't know who!!) and one "winked" at me.  The winky guy seems ok - kinda dorky, probably a milk-toast boy-scout type.  But not special enough to pay 40 bucks for. The whole thing is such crap.  And I'm so not ready for it.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Visible

I just made my match.com profile visible and I feel sick.

Today, I realized that I may not have this whole BB situation truly under control.  (I know that this is totally shocking to you.) I've been playing it calm and cool and had myself convinced that I was in charge, but I spent a lot of time with him over the past week and he is like my crack.  The more I get, the more I want.  I went to bed thinking about him, I woke up thinking about him, I thought about him a lot during the day.  I did not call him to "just say hi" today though, so I give myself a little bit of credit there.

So, like I do when I get a bit depressed about it, I shop for boys on-line and depress myself further.  The first guy that came up in my search?  The VERY FIRST guy?  Larry.  A soft spoken Asian guy who works in the IT field.   

Larry rides on my vanpool.

This confirms the fact that there are no dateable men anywhere near me.  But then, I clicked on a cute guy.  Who does not ride my vanpool.  Who goes to the gym (or so he says), and mountain bikes (or so he says), and has a graduate degree (or so he says) and isn't religious, and might not want kids... And I think "if I don't sign up right now and email this guy, my soulmate could slip away."  And then I panic.

WTF.  Why do I do this to myself?  (Trust me.  I swear, it is not so that I can have crazy blog rants).

My decision?  I made my profile visible.  Its been hidden for over a year at this point, but is still fairly representative of who I am, and the pictures aren't terribly outdated.  So, I made it visible, then clicked on his profile.  If he is a savvy match.com user, he will see that I viewed him.  He will look at my profile, then he will either think I am a nut job, or he will email me.  And then, I will make a decision about what to do next.

The decision probably should be to find myself a therapist.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Vroom Vroom

I envisioned myself as a motorcycle goddess - sexily slithering off the bike, pulling the helmet off my head and shaking out my perfectly fluffy blonde hair... But I caught a glimpse of myself while wearing the helmet: my librarian glasses and slightly round face looking back at me from underneath a helmet twice as big as a bowling ball didn't quite match the sexy goddess image.

Regardless, I had a freaking blast.

Last week, I graciously offered to help BB take his motorcycle back and forth to the repair shop.  Considering that said repair shop is two hours from my house, this was a pretty big favor for someone I am "not-dating."  It was a pain in the ass, but I drove his car (automatic, with a nicer stereo system than mine), it was gorgeous out, and the drive is actually kinda fun.  He's been talking about getting his bike fixed for the ten months I've known him, so I was glad to finally be able to help.  Plus, him having his bike back means that we have lots of new excuses to see each other and "not-date."

Yesterday, after spending no less than 6 hours shuttling back and forth last week, I actually got to ride the damn thing.  I was excited, and terrified.  Last time I rode on the back of a motorcycle was 1992.  I think I've lost some balance and flexibility since then.  And I have certainly gained an appreciation for injury and death (see black eye saga).  Luckily for me, his bike is of the old-man type, not quite one of those Winnebago-like motorcycles, but pretty damn close.  It has a stereo and a cigarette lighter, if that gives you any indication of the danger I was in (none).  

I planned our route (kinda) because I know the local roads way better than he does (and, being a guy, has no sense of direction but refuses to ever look at a map unless its on his iPhone).  Amusingly to me, we drove past Momom's house, Popop's cemetery, and Nana's cemetery.  It was the scenic tour of Susan's dead and dying relatives.  Cheery!  We rode for almost two hours and it passed like a flash.  I thought I would get bored, but not even close.  It was weird giving up all control to him - couldn't talk, couldn't warn him of danger (not that I could see past him)...  I could signal to him which way to go by gently punching him on one side or the other, but that was about it.  

The best thing about this (and please, have your vomit bags ready), was how excited and happy he was to be able to ride.  You could see it in his face, and in the way his eyes kinda sparkled when he took his helmet off.  Makes me melt.  That look, and the Old Spice combined?  Forget it.  

BB now thinks that I should get my motorcycle license so we can ride together - I pointed out that we could already ride together, and that I needed another dangerous hobby like I need another rock to the eye, but high gas prices already had me considering it.  Who knows, maybe I will.  But until then, I'm going to play motorcycle goddess as often as possible.  


Friday, October 10, 2008

One of my many problems

A couple days ago, I attended a meeting of a community coalition to speak about one of the projects I have been working on for several years.  The meeting was held in a church (no, I was not struck by lightning) and started, and ended, with a prayer.  I was thrilled.

What also thrilled me was that, even though I was invited to speak, I was on the agenda late into the meeting, but still had to get there when it started to get my audio-visual extravaganza set up.  The point is, I got bored while waiting my turn to talk and inspire others.  So my mind wandered. And it wandered to boys.

The tables and chairs were set up in a square, so we were all staring blankly at each other.  But it gave me a good view of the entire room.  I decided to play "who would you sleep with?" and learned that I am one picky, picky girl.

There were somewhere between 20 and 30 people in the room and roughly half were guys.  Discounting the mostly blind preacher and his assistant (whose first name was the same as his last.  Something like "Jack Jackson".  Who would do that?!?), there were about 10 men in the room.  There were two lawyers - one too young and hipster-y, one way too Jewish.  There were about three guys from local industries around the table - one too old, one too corrupt, and one who clearly had very little going on upstairs.  There was an old PhD from the local hospital with a british accent and a late-20 something buff black guy in a very expensive and well tailored suit who represented the local minor league team.  Then there were a couple just old guys from local agencies who had nothing of note to report except grey hair and bad wire rimmed glasses.

It cracks me up, but I had trouble deciding between the buff minor league guy and the old british doctor guy.  I thought that if I slept with the old british doctor guy, we could do Sunday puzzles in the morning and perhaps he would buy me flowers (perhaps I don't understand the rules of this game).  Minor league guy is the obvious choice.  Extremely attractive.  Well-dressed.  Nice glasses.  But he was soooo... plastic?  Even though he was well put together, he didn't quite pull it off.  He looked slightly uncomfortable.  

But I thought I might have seen him sneaking glances at me.

So, the morale of this story is, try as I may, I couldn't really identify one guy in that room that I would, or even wanted to, sleep with.  My standards are so high that I can't even have a pretend one night stand.  Maybe next time, I'll just sniff them and see if that changes the outcome.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Time for a New Spice

Old Spice.  The deodorant.

It comes in a red package that features a sailboat.  Its not out of the question that my father used it, or, maybe it was my grandfather.  It may have come in a soap on a rope product in the 80's. There is nothing cool or suave about Old Spice (or any variety of soap on a rope).  Nothing.  Nada.

Why does it matter?  Why am I wasting your time with my thoughts on men's toiletries?

Because I want to wrap myself up in a stick of it and stay there forever.  I want to swim in a pool of it.  I want to roll my kayak in it.  It makes me melt.  It makes me want to do things like bake brownies, from scratch, and iron shirts.  In my bare-feet.  Maybe pregnant.

(believe it or not, I haven't even been drinking.)

Old Spice is the scent of BB.  That, and that dryer sheets with the teddy (Snuggle?).  Its a powerful combination.  During those months that I was holding on to his stuff, I would occasionally walk by his bag and get a whiff of it.  Then be drawn in, and do pathetic things like deeply inhale his shirt.  Pathetic.  But I wonder, which came first?  My fascination with BB, or my fascination with old-man deodorant?  Did his Old Spice smell help draw me in?  Or do I now love that smell because I associate it with him, and not necessarily because I like it.  Please let it not be that I'm just a sucker for Old Spice.  What if I am?  I could wind up with a total (bigger) jackass, just because he uses cheap old-man deodorant.  Damn you, Proctor and Gamble!!!  Damn you!!!

Monday, October 6, 2008

Lazy Susan

I love fall - I love that the humidity drops, the sky is bright blue, the leaves start turning and that I can wear my new fun corduroy coat from Target.

But I can't friggin stay awake! Its dark at 7pm and its making me want to revert to the bedtime I had when I was six years old.

Three times in the past week, I have gone out, had two beers (TWO!), come home and passed out on the couch. Two beers should not cause a seasoned drinker to pass out at 8pm. Seriously. Wednesday we did happy hour/dinner, I got home, sat on the couch, flipped the tv on and woke up at 10pm wondering what the hell happened. Friday night (FRIDAY!) we kayaked, I sucked back a couple beers in between paddle strokes, put the boat away, came in, sat on the couch and fell asleep! Ditto last night, after dinner and two beers with BB.

This can't keep up. I have a life, people! I had homework to do! Phone calls to return! Emails to send! Blogs to write! (ok, maybe not much of a life, but a life all the same)

I am either going to have to stop drinking beer, or get myself one of those happy lamps for people with Seasonal Affective Disorder, and wouldn't that add to my attractiveness to the opposite sex?!?

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Drill Baby Drill!

Oh.  My.  God.

I just watched probably the most entertaining 90 minutes of tv I have watched in a long time. And as a bonus, it was commercial free!  Which made refilling my wine glass and grabbing chocolate out of the fridge kinda difficult...

Listen, this is not a political blog by any means.  And it strikes me odd that I follow my story of last Saturday's debauchery with my thoughts on the vice-presidential debate, but so be it.  I'm a well-rounded girl.  Political.  And slutty.  What a winning combination.  (Why am I still single?)

I am a liberal democrat.  I am strongly supporting Obama/Obiden (as Palin called him) - in fact, I got so pissed off that by 45 minutes in, I was sitting here with my laptop contributing money to the Obama campaign.  I am also a feminist.  Militant perhaps.  I firmly believe that if women were in charge of the world, things would be hunky-dory.  There would be no more war, kids would be happy and well educated, air would be clean, water would be clean, fish would be happy....  But, only if women like me were in charge of the world.  Palin scares the shit out of me - she is uneducated on the issues, insular, an idealogue.  To sum up: a right wing whack job.
I'd love to see a woman in the vice-presidency.  I would have loved to see a woman in the presidency.  But not this wolf shooting, police-chief firing, fertile, vicious, beauty queen grandma.

What really pisses me off is that there are now 4 female republican governors in the U.S.  The Republicans could have picked any of them if they wanted to get a girl on the ticket.  You know why they picked this one?  Cuz she is hot.  Way hotter than any of the others.  This isn't progress, people.  Its still discriminatory.  And certainly not feminism.

So, Palin was nervous.  And should have been.  Biden has been yakking it up in the Senate for 35 years.  And can locate both Sudan and Delaware on a map.  Palin held up well given the circumstances, but was still well outclassed.  After 23 minutes, she finally removed a piece of hair from her eyeball, which made it much easier for me to look at her.  She only said "soccer mom" once, but said "maverick" at least four times.  Twice she referenced her "diverse" family.  What makes it so diverse?  There are boys and girls?  Brunettes and blondes?  Babies and fetuses?

My favorite part was when she gave a shout out to a third grade class.  In a debate!  Seriously?  A shout-out?!  Her folksy "darn-rights" and "doggoneits" made me want to barf.  My favorite though, was when she said "drill baby drill!"  Love it.  What a moron.  She also winked at some point, possibly after she declared her everlasting love for Israel.  WINKED at the camera!  Holy crap!  I thought that wink might be the secret code for someone to drop a bomb on North Dakota.

To be fair, Biden did some things that cracked me up too.  He said that he loved John McCain at least twice.  Seriously.  For a second, I wondered if he was supporting same sex couple benefits for a reason.  He referred to himself as "Joe Biden" at least four times.  Its possible he is getting botox since he had wrinkles on the side of his forehead, but not in the middle.  And, he teared up once when he was talking about his son, who is going off to Iraq tomorrow.  Touching.

It was totally worth missing Grey's Anatomy.

(p.s.  If you are still undecided, please check out Obama's website and really look at the differences between the parties.  Or just do what I tell you to do and vote for Obama!  If you are an Obama supporter and haven't yet contributed to the campaign, please do, even if its just a couple bucks.  It all makes a difference.  I really don't want to have to move to Canada.  I said I was going to do it four years ago, but I'm serious this time.)