I'm dreaming of a brown Christmas...

Seriously. This is not a part of the country where we often get snow on Christmas. (We're more likely to get ice, actually.) So, it's not exactly a cherished, long-standing tradition. So, why, why, WHY do perfectly rational adults get all misty-eyed and dreamy about the thought of a "white Christmas"?

Here's what a white Christmas in this part of the country actually entails: people getting stranded in airports trying to get to their loved ones, people getting stranded on roadways trying to get to their loved ones (and worst case scenario, dying in accidents on those roadways), people giving up and staying home instead of trying to be with their loved ones, Christmas Eve church services cancelled--and all for a little bit of white stuff on the ground for a day or two? It never sticks around long here, and it's supposed to be be sunny again over the weekend, so...why is this something to long for, again?

It just strikes me as immensely selfish to WISH for that, just because YOU'RE tucked securely inside with YOUR loved ones. What about the rest of us? You want "White Christmas," watch a movie!

Grrrr...

Look what I got!

Whoo hoo!

I took part in Stinky Paws' "International Santa Paws" gift exchange, in which we each agreed to send something hand- or home-made to another blogger. I sent my package off to my assigned recipient earlier this week, and today I got my own.

Looky, looky! As you can see, it is beautiful and completely appropriate, given my standing as the (self-proclaimed) Queen of Accessories. It is layered dichroic glass with sterling silver, and I love, love, love it. Thanks, mystery blogger! (Though, actually, I can pretty much tell from the return address--as could my recipient. Hee.)

And a super big thank-you to Stinky Paws for arranging everything--what fun!




So, what else has been going on? Not just a whole heck of a lot, clearly, as you can tell from my dismal posting record of late. Still seeing Hot Med, who's still having the occasional lapse into jerkdom. I've pretty much figured out how to deal with said lapses and snap him out of it, though. I just treat him like a petulant adolescent, and refuse to let him get me upset.


And so it goes. For now, the good still outweighs the bad. It's really hard to stay mad at someone who says, "ooh...beautiful today" EVERY time he sees you, you know?


Once the holidays and their attendant madness pass, I promise to get back to posting more regularly. It will be my New Year's Resolution. It's either that, or get back to exercising more regularly...gee, wonder which one is more likely to come to pass? Heh.

Why can't all weekends be like that?

By which I mean: four days long and packed with fun.

Thursday I went for the usual Thanksgiving meal with my family. I did take Hot Med with me, which went fine. He accidentally left the gate to the highway (my sister lives on a farm) unlatched, but fortunately realized his error and was able to convey it to me in time for us to corral the dogs (me) and sprint to the gate (him) before any damage was done. Whew. That could have been ugly. Other than that...we ate a lot of food. He ate pretty much everything offered him, and then reclined his seat back and slept most of the hour drive home. Typical American Thanksgiving.

Friday I had plans to meet up with some of my college friends who I last saw when we had a mini "reunion" over the summer. (No Hot Med this time--he had to work.) With kids in tow, we spent several afternoon hours roaming the zoo in some seriously beautiful weather, then had an early dinner at my favorite pizza place. (Note: be prepared, if you ever go to a zoo with someone who WORKS at a zoo. V: "Enjoy that cheetah now--they'll all be gone in about ten years--the gene pool's gotten too limited." Me: "Hey--he's right there. He can HEAR you!" Hee.)

Then the kids were parked at grandma and grandpa's with dad, and the girls went out for an evening of karaoke at a smoke-filled dive bar I'd never been to. We didn't plan to stay long, but...plans sometimes change.

We had ourselves quite a time. There was beer drinking, tequila shots (I wisely abstained from those), some good singing, some bad singing that was nonetheless exceedingly entertaining, some bad singing that was, well...just bad, some of it done by a man I dubbed the Casey Kasem of Karaoke. After each song that he butchered, he had to stand there, mike in hand, and tell us the sad tale behind his choice of that song. Serious downers--dead grandparent, crib death--"and that's why I had to sing this song...to dedicate to her." Come on, dude--my sympathies for your loss(es), but...wrong time, wrong place. We're all here to have fun, and there is NO appropriate way to respond to that. You can't clap, you feel obligated to stop your laughter for a moment and you end up just casting your eyes down, hoping he'll be done soon. And then you start up your raucous good time again, and, according to one of my friends, his wife turns around and stares at your table and mutters something about the need to "kick some ass." Fortunately, she restrained herself, and anyway, I think we could have taken her. The rest of the bar loved us--cheering, asking us to sing backup for them...and one decent-looking guy even hit on me. Not that I was looking to be hit on, mind you...but still. Good times, baby...good times.

Saturday morning I did my usual housecleaning, albeit in an at-most-quarter-assed fashion, had lunch with Hot Med, and then went home and crashed on the couch.

Sunday morning, went to church, grabbed a yummy bagel for lunch, and made plans to pick up Hot Med that evening to accompany me to a friend's birthday party. (Happy birthday, George!) Which took place at my favorite Indian restaurant, and involved selecting, adorning, addressing and sending out postcards, as George feels strongly that the world has gone too far in the direction of cybermail. Snail mail all around! Plus aloo gobi, garlic naan and a smidgen of the restaurant's version of birthday cake, which involved the particular Indian delicacy known to most as Gulab Jamun, but which will always be "scrotum balls" to me, thanks to my old friend Nora. (In all fairness...that IS what they look like.) (And now I can look forward to some interesting google searches, can't I?)

I finished off the weekend by watching the Hallmark Hall of Fame movie about the dog. Don't you just love a good Hallmark Hall of Fame movie and its attendant sappy commercials? I do.

I hope you all had equally wonderful weekends. Now...back to the old grind. Argh.

And stuff like that and stuff

I used to have a boss who'd say that. He'd end a sentence with it. "Blah blah blah, and stuff like that, and stuff."

Because I know you're just dying for an update on my life (hee), I'll do some quick bullets.

• Hot Med is still working nights. 5:00 every night this week, PLUS 10-2 on Sunday. That's seven days in a row. His words: "My boss CRAZY." He says he asked why he couldn't have a night off and they said it was "too busy." I still think there may be something of a failure to communicate, but I'm thinking I might see if his brother would be willing to talk to them, to make sure they're understanding what he's asking.
• For the record, NO, I don't like only seeing him for a few hours on the weekend. (I've been asked that, quite sincerely.) Why have a boyfriend if he's not around to go to dinner, take walks, help me lift heavy things in my garage, etc.? At this point it feels more like a weekend booty call than a relationship.
• I have just not been able to "let things go" this week. I'm getting into...well, not "arguments," but let's say "heated discussions" with casual Facebook friends. I printed off the section of our local animal ordinances where it specifies that you are required to provide SHELTER for your outside animals, and I'm preparing to write a note on it and leave it on my neighbors' door. Their pitiful puppy is breaking my heart. In addition to being cold and wet, she's SO starved for attention--sadly, the ordinances don't require you to LOVE your dog, so I figure the best I can do is make them think I'll turn them in. And maybe offer a few bucks toward the purchase of some lumber for a doghouse.
• Maybe I'm cranky because the booty calls are so infrequent? Hmm.....hee.
• The H1N1 flu shot is now available here to anyone who wants it. I'm thinking of trying to get one tonight. I've never had the flu, and I hardly ever even get colds, but...I've got to start rehearsals for another show in a couple of months, and I sure don't want to get derailed by the swine in the midst of things.
• For the record, I am not jealous of or threatened by Sarah Palin because she's an attractive, strong, charismatic woman. I could use those adjectives to describe pretty much every one of my female friends. I abhor Sarah Palin because I disagree with her on every single issue, and because when she speaks, her "grammar" makes my brain hurt. (Can you guess what at least one of the aforementioned "discussions" was about?)
• I just finished reading the autobiography of the woman I portrayed in my recent play, who spent 16 years in prison for a crime she didn't commit. She actually was not "exonerated"--as is often the case, after the original verdict was overturned, the DA was reluctant to admit the mistake, and was prepared to try her again. She agreed to accept a no contest "Alford Plea." (I would, too, after 16 years.) Her lawyers told her she wasn't allowed to speak during the plea hearing. Not a word in her own defense. She was to listen to them read the charges against her, and then she was to sign on the dotted line and walk out the door. She agreed, but it galled her. So, as the prosecutor was reading the charges, she spoke up. "Excuse me, Your Honor." Every eye in the courtroom turned to her, including the panicked ones of her own attorneys. She sweetly continued, "I have a bad taste in my mouth--could I have a glass of water?" Hee!!! I love that. (The judge ordered a glass of water brought to her table. What else could he do?)
• I'm now reading "The Lacuna," by Barbara Kingsolver. I really like it so far. Don't you just love it when one of your favorite authors comes out with a new book? It's like a kid with a shiny new toy. I'm such a geek.
• I tried the new Chipotle that is relatively close to my house. Sadly, I was underwhelmed. Maybe I'll try it again when the staff is more....seasoned. Because when I order a vegetarian burrito, I don't expect the response to be "it'll be about five more minutes before the chicken is done cooking." Umm...okay. Let's just skip the chicken this time. Poor girl. She probably wondered what the hell she'd done when she started to scoop the fajita veggies onto my hapless burrito and I nearly jumped over the counter to stop her. "No! Not those!" In my defense, the fajita veggies include bell peppers, and we all know my feelings about those.
• I finally turned on the heat in my house a couple of days ago. I hate winter. They say this is going to be a bad one. According to the size of the spoons in the persimmon pits, or some such old wives tale. I hope those pits are wrong!

Okay, I'll just go ahead and wrap this up now. My life has really, really not been exciting lately, has it? Oh well, exciting is sometimes not all it's cracked up to be, right?

I guess we won't have time to get on each other's nerves

Hot Med's boss has him working all evenings lately. It kind of sucks. When he took the job he was on days, then they added in a couple of nights a week...now it's all nights. Six nights a week, 5-close (11:00 or later). Since I work 8-5, this really cuts down on our weekday interaction.

I think they're taking advantage of him a bit. He doesn't realize he has any say in the schedule--he's afraid to ask for a night off, or a switch back to days, because he thinks he'll be fired. (They've even called him several times to come in at the last minute on what was scheduled to be a night off, 'cause they know he won't say no.) I tried to tell him he surely won't be fired just for ASKING, but I don't think he believes me...so for now he's living with it. And complaining about it to me. He gets a little cranky when he's tired. I think we need to find him a new job.

We went to eat at a Chinese super-buffet this weekend, and they were already playing Christmas Muzak. Unacceptable! I was distracted from the aural torture briefly, though...as Hot Med and the Chinese waitress each smugly mocked the other's pronunciation of "water." Hee. (For the record, neither of them had any room to be mocking.)

So, in glass-half-full mode, I guess the benefit is that if we're seeing each other for such a brief amount of time each week, we'll both be on our best behavior, right?

And herein lies the problem...

One of the online dating sites I've used in the past just sent me this helpful information:

A Map of Love: your best male matches by state
target: USA sampled: 39200

Your Worst States
Mississippi — 60.1
Arkansas — 60.2
Wyoming — 60.5
Oklahoma — 60.6
South Dakota — 60.9


Your Best States
Massachusetts — 68.9
Oregon — 68.7
Washington — 67.9
Minnesota — 67.7
California — 67.7


A Map of Love: your best male matches by country
target: World sampled: 25207

Your Worst Countries
Saudi Arabia — 42.0
Pakistan — 42.1
Egypt — 43.9
Kenya — 46.3
Malaysia — 48.9

Your Best Countries
Israel — 69.3
South Korea — 68.1
Iceland — 67.8
Denmark — 67.3
Netherlands — 67.2

Clearly, I've been looking for love in all the wrong places. Hee!

(No, if you're wondering, Hot Med and I haven't broken up again. This information was sent unsolicited. In fact, I watched the Halloween parade yesterday with the entire Med family--we all just kind of pretended that Sis and Nephew had been away on a visit. Everyone was in good spirits. Sis brought back beautiful scarves for me and Sis-In-Law.)

Gotta run--too many things to do in too little time today, but I just had to share those maps.

It seems all I can manage these days are quickies. (You can read into that anything you like. Heh.)

So, the quickie report:

Opening weekend of the show went very well. A woman I didn't know came up to me after the show opening night, said "I feel like I know you, 'cause I've seen you onstage so often...could I...would you mind if I gave you a hug?" Hug away, strange lady! (Yeah, I know...it's cold and flu season. But she seemed healthy.) It was really sweet, if a bit odd. Nice to know you've touched someone's life, in a small way. Looking forward to next weekend, then looking forward to a break before I go back into rehearsals for the next one, probably some time in late January.

Hot Sis is coming back! Apparently she got back home, realized she'd made a mistake (I wonder if Mama read her the riot act), and booked a flight back to Tulsa. She and Nephew will be here Thursday, I believe, so he'll be able to go trick-or-treating, after all. I hope everyone has learned a lesson about regulating medications.

So, yeah...Hot Med and I are still "on," at least for now. Perhaps he'll dump me again when Sis gets back, and he's not so lonely and bored. Or perhaps I'll dump him this time. Uncertainty keeps life interesting, right? He does really, really want to make his own visit back home now, and I think he should, if it's feasible. Two years without seeing your mother is a long time. He asked what I would want him to bring me back as a gift, if he goes. Easy answer--jewelry and scarves. Hee.

"So You Think You Can Dance" is back. Looks like a most excellent Top 20. I'm a little worried about that designated "Paula Abdul Chair," though. Does this show need her wackiness on top of Mary's, for cryin' out loud?!

Okay, consider yourself updated. I'll let you know if there's any strange hugging next weekend. Ha!

What an...interesting weekend.

But no, it certainly wasn't Saturday's lunch date that made it so.

He was...a bit boring. No, he didn't order the sweet-and-sour. And no, he didn't have stubby fingers. He ordered "chicken" with broccoli, took one or two bites, excused himself to go the the restroom and didn't eat any more. He commented positively after the couple of bites he did take (and he did an eggroll for an appetizer), so I'm not sure what that was about. I asked at one point if it was not to his liking, and he said something about NOT being nervous but suddenly having no appetite. Weird.

Other than than, he was just a bit...staid, I guess. Terribly earnest and seemingly a bit humorless. He kept making these "statements" about himself that I presume he makes on all first dates. I really prefer just to let the conversation flow and see what comes out that way, but he was all "Liz, I have something that I need to tell you about myself." Very ponderous, and I'm thinking he's on the sex offender registry or something, but all that followed was a pronouncement that he's looking for a long-term relationship, and doesn't like one-night stands. Oh, thanks for telling me. I was getting ready to invite you back to my place for a quickie.

He used my name a lot...in that way that you're taught to do in seminars and self-help books, and I really don't like that. It seems so transparent to me. We're the only two people at the table; I don't need you to keep referencing my name. I know you're talking to me.

The date lasted about an hour, we did a quick, awkward hug in the parking lot, and there was a mutual exchange of "nice to meet you" but no follow-up "let's do this again sometime."

So, you're thinking, what made the weekend interesting? Clearly it wasn't this fellow.

Well...Saturday morning I had an email from Hot Med's sister-in-law. Apparently all hell broke loose in Med Land after I left it. Sis, who I knew had some clinical depression problems, and had recently gone on a new medication, apparently is full-on bipolar, and had a major, major breakdown, which included a screaming fit in Starbucks, wherein she accused Hot Bro and SIL of keeping her in the country against her will, trying to control her, etc. Sounds like pretty ugly stuff. (And, as Hot Bro said, "so embarrassing." I'm guessing it was in Arabic, too, so they're probably lucky someone didn't call homeland security. Heh.)

She sold some gold jewelry, got enough for plane tickets, and was packed up and off to Lebanon with her son in the course of a few hours.

Not only that, SIL said, but she's convinced Hot Med to get his passport and visa in order and follow her shortly.

Wowza.

Well, about ten minutes after my date with Mr. Earnest ended, I got a phone call. It was Hot Bro, saying Hot Med was being all dramatic and wanted to see me to "say goodbye," and would I mind seeing him, and perhaps trying to reason with him a bit? (They're convinced that Sis's mania-fueled hysterics and manipulations are influencing him too much.)

So I did. I know, I know.

I spent a couple of hours with him that afternoon, and by the time I left he was all "well, maybe I'll go, and maybe I won't. Or maybe I'll just go for a visit."

I have no idea what will happen long-term, but I saw him again yesterday--he came with me to the block party singing gig I had in the afternoon. Hot Bro and SIL came, as well. We all had a nice time--Hot Med was on his best behavior, being all sweet and charming. I don't know that I would say we're "on again," exactly, but apparently we're not so "off again" as I thought.

At least he isn't boring. He is spoiled, and suffering from major "Peter Pan" syndrome, as is his sister, but...he isn't boring. Heh.

The saddest part of the whole thing is the little boy. He was really enjoying his life here--had his little plastic pumpkin ready for trick-or-treating, and not one but two costumes prepared. He was singing with a boys' choir, and excited to wear a special outfit in their Christmas concert. He was learning to roller blade. He was learning a little discipline (though not from his mother). Hot Bro is hoping that they can bring him back here at some point to continue his education, but for now they're just very sad about the whole thing.

So, that was my weekend. How was yours?

Another quickie

I can't seem to get my mind wrapped around an entire blog post, so here's the quickie update.

I have a lunch date scheduled for Saturday, with Bachelor #1, at my favorite vegetarian restaurant. (How many dates have I taken there now? I've lost track. Hee.) Will he have stubby fingers? Will he order the sweet-and-sour "chicken"? Time will tell. Coincidentally, this guy's name is the same as the American name that Hot Med liked to use (which bore no relation to his actual name). That's kind of weird. I wonder if he'd mind if I called him Mustapha instead?

Nothing really happening with any of the other guys who've contacted me. Too soon to tell if our "conversations" have completely fizzled out, but we're not burning up the internet with our communiques, for sure.

Other than that...it's raining, endlessly, and I'm pretty busy with rehearsals.

Ta ta for now.

Quickie update

The new (very flattering) profile picture seems to be bringing them out in droves. I'm currently involved in some level of "communication" with 5 different guys, from 4 different dating websites. They can't ALL be losers, can they? (Don't answer that!)

Maybe for good this time

The break-up. Which apparently Hot Med and I have done again. Short story--he's a boy. He may look like a man, but he's nowhere near grown up, and apparently after spending most of his life being coddled by his mother and not working for a living, etc., he's chafing a bit at the obligations inherent in being a responsible adult. Which include the obligations inherent in having a mature, adult relationship.

Whatever, I say. Have a nice life. I'm sure he'll be just fine without me, though he might want to watch how he treats his brother. HIS help is essential for someone living in America with no real working knowledge of written English. Might not want to piss HIM off, dude.

In an effort to speed up the "getting over him" process, I went ahead and made searchable my various online profiles. I've already been contacted by a couple of guys, one of whom says his biggest turn-on is "conversation with intelligent women." Of course, this is my life we're talking about, so I have no doubt that at some point I will discover that he has stubby fingers. Heh.

I'm also deep into rehearsals for the upcoming play and a charity gig my band is doing, so...plenty to keep my myself occupied.

Hot Who?

Cultural divides

Try explaining to your Lebanese boyfriend and his sister why you just bought yourself a set of small bendable plastic figures--one a green fellow with oddly slanted pointy head, and one an orange pony.

"It's Gumby and Pokey!"

Blank stares.

"They had a TV show when I was a kid. They went in and out of books!"

Blank stares.

"Never mind."

I believe in second chances.

So, yeah...I spent quite a bit of time this weekend with Hot Med and the Med family. Sunday afternoon Hot Sis called to see if I wanted to meet her and Hot Med at Starbucks. (Always with the Starbucks.) I inquired as to whether HE really wanted me to come, she assured me he did, so I went. Hot Med instantly jumped up to offer me a seat, and bought me an iced tea. It was a little awkward for a bit, then we all relaxed. Eventually we decided to go check out an art sale in a hotel, then Sis insisted that I come over so she could make us all dinner. Hot Bro and Sis-in-Law showed up soon after with nephew in tow (they'd been out trying to teach him to rollerblade) and we all had a nice dinner together. Pasta with vegetables. Of course. Sigh. But hey--this time they put CHEESE on it. Heh. There was some discussion of planning a joint birthday party in a couple of weeks--turns out SIL and I have the same birthday, and Sis's is just four days earlier. Eventually Bro and SIL left, and diplomatically insisted that Sis take Nephew out for more rollerblading, so Hot Med and I could have some time alone.

A little talk, some promises of better behavior, a little canoodling, a plan to get together at some point the next day.

He called me bright and early yesterday morning, and I took him and Sis to lunch (nephew was out again on the rollerblades), we hung out for much of the afternoon, then we dropped her off and he and I went back to my place for a while.

So, it seems to be back on. And, like I said, I believe in second chances. (Third chances? That's a different story.) And, truthfully, looking back, I wasn't blameless in the friction, either. I mean, he was being a jerk and all, but...I haven't been in the greatest mood the last month or so, either (as evidenced by my near complete failure to post on this blog), and I think we were both guilty of letting our bad moods effect our relationship. Which is a completely vicious cycle, of course. But clearly we each missed the other while we were on hiatus, so...I think another try seems reasonable.

And that's where it stands for now. But don't worry--I am perfectly willing to drive off again and leave him standing in the Starbucks parking lot if things go bad a second time. You know--fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...um...er...you can't get fooled again! (Thanks, Dubya.)

Long weekend!

Yes, a nice long holiday weekend, and I have nothing planned. Not one thing. I think I have decided that sounds nice. Lots of laying around. Though, in the interest of full disclosure, I will admit that I will be probably be getting together at least once with Hot Med, to talk in person. Don't judge me--this whole breakup thing has happened over the phone, NOT his best medium, and I just want to talk to him face-to-face at least once before I write him off forever. Especially now that he's back to being pleasant and answering phone calls.

In other news, for those of you not following the ins and outs of my life via facebook, I did get cast in the play. Whoo hoo! It's "The Exonerated," if anyone is interested. It's based on the true-life accounts of several people who were falsely convicted, sent to death row, and then later exonerated. My character is a woman who spent 16 years behind bars for a crime she didn't commit. Should be interesting.

You know what I think? I think EVERY president should give a back-to-school motivational speech to America's children. Why the heck not? Whether they (or their parents) agree or disagree politically with the person in office, why not make children feel involved? "Indoctrination," my ass.

Okay, I'm going to go back now to watching the clock and waiting for the "all clear" signal so we can get out of here early and get on with our weekends.

Have a good one!

I believe this falls under the heading of "having your cake and eating it, too."

I just got a call from Hot Med. (The first time HE'S called ME in days, actually. I usually made the calls--he's not crazy about talking on the phone.) Do I have a new boyfriend yet? "NO. We just broke up. Why, do YOU have a new girlfriend already?!" No--he's "single." But...he's off work tomorrow, and he misses me...would I like to get together?

My answer? NO. Not if he still plans to consider himself unattached.

Which, apparently, he does. How do you say "booty call" in Arabic, I wonder?

I would be offended, but I'm too busy being amused. I knew he'd miss me. Heh.

It feels like fall.

It feels like fall here. I think we had the coolest August on record, so I'm not doing my usual "dance of joy" at its passing, but...I think I'm ready for a change nonetheless. How 'bout I start by not neglecting my poor little blog quite so much?

Let's just get you caught up with some bullets.

• Hot Med and I are over. Long story short--he was kind of being a jerk the last few weeks, both to me and his brother. I called him on it, we had a spat, we didn't talk for a week, though I did make efforts to call him (not wanting to leave it on an unpleasant note), we finally talked on the phone Sunday and...he says he "doesn't want a girlfriend." He's too poor, too busy working...he just wants "friends." I think I was cutting into his "sitting around at Starbucks" time, truthfully. And, if that's really how he wants to spend his life, well...good luck to him.
• His brother is insistent that I still be friends with the rest of the family, even though Hot Med is "being a jerk." I KNEW they liked me! "He was so lucky to have you." I know, Hot Bro, I know. Heh.
• I am saddened by the split, but not devastated. I'm not sure I ever really saw this being a longterm thing, though I wasn't ready for it to be over, either. Such is life.
• I've gone online to the various dating sites, un-hidden my profile and snooped around a bit. It's more than a bit depressing to see that most of the guys in my age range are the same ones I was passing over a year ago. It doesn't bode well for my immediate dating future, for sure. And I'm shallow enough to admit that, having dated a younger guy with admirable biceps, I'm not all that excited about doughy, middle-aged men. Not that I currently have any room to talk, of course.
  
• Last weekend I played a set with my band and did a scene from an upcoming play, at the grand opening of the new space of one of the companies I work with most often. It went really well--good crowd, good food, good feedback on the performances. Our emcee for the evening was a local late-night talk show host, and he said he'd love to have me on his show to sing soon. We'll see how that goes.
• So, yeah...I have a play coming up, but not until NEXT MARCH. I really, really need something to keep me occupied between now and then. To that end, I auditioned this weekend for another upcoming show. I have no idea if I'm being seriously considered, but I would love to do this play. It concerns a topic I'm fairly passionate about, I love the director (Hi, George!) and the timing would be perfect. So...fingers crossed.
• My work has been making me crazy. My boss is on vacation for a week. Thank goodness.
• Last night my cats decided to turn the living room into an Indy racetrack or a pinball machine or something. I was asleep on the couch at the time, and was rudely awakened by a cat crashing across me, claws extended. I have some seriously nasty-looking scratches on my thigh (not unusual) and on my FACE (three full claw tracks, about four inches long). I think this would be a good time to take an interesting new dating profile pic, don't you? Caption: "Just back from the Serengeti."
  
• Have you watched the show "Hoarders" on A&E? It makes me feel SO much better about my packrat tendencies. I'm a total amateur compared to these people. You can walk easily through MY house. (Don't open that hallway closet too quickly, though. Hee.)
• I have a birthday coming up this month. 47. There's no way to spin that--I'm in my late 40s. I could insist 46 was MID-40s, but 47? Nope. I'm really not depressed about it--I just keep thinking "where did the time go?" and "wasn't I supposed to have it all figured out by now?"
• I really, really need to get started on an exercise program, but I'm having trouble with my foot. I think I may have ended up with a stress fracture a couple of weeks ago. It's better now, but not quite right, and I don't want to make it worse. Figures--I'm mentally ready to start moving, and my body is lagging behind.
• Speaking of which, my eye is still red. Remember--the one with the wonky eyelash? It's never quite gotten back to normal. I don't have the money for another trip to the eye doctor right now, so I just keep the artificial tears handy, and hope that "tincture of time" will work its magic.
• I am depressed about the future of healthcare reform, and the ridiculous lies being told by the opposition. This may become an entire ranty post of its own soon. Be warned.
  
• When I want to cheer myself up a bit, I just look at the 100 oz thermal travel mug one of my college buddies (with whom I've reconnected via facebook) brought me the last time he came to visit. I thought my previous 52 oz travel mug was the be-all and end-all of mugdom, but I was wrong. He had one of these things at our "reunion" a few weeks ago, and my envy was so great that he bought me one of my very own. It's gigantic, and I carry it around with me all day, filled with iced tea. I'll have to post a pic.

Okay, I've made it to gloating about my mug...I think that signals an end to the rambling for today.

I'm pretty sure it's my popsicles.

It's kind of fun dating a guy whose family you like, and who seem to like you, as well. (Of course, I don't really know if I would have liked New Guy's family or not, since I wasn't actually allowed to meet anyone but his autistic son, who, through some unfortunate timing, thought I personally caused tornado warnings and sirens. Needless to say, he wasn't crazy about me.)

A couple of times this week we've gone swimming with Hot Sis and Nephew. Last night I offered to bring over frozen veggie burgers and fries and fix dinner, too. They're mostly vegetarian, but Nephew has been exposed to American junk food at summer camp, and loves burgers and dogs, so I thought I'd show them how he can have those things without meat being involved.

Big hit. Sis thought they were delicious, but kept asking, "are you SURE there's no meat in here?" Nephew didn't care WHAT they were made of, he just loved them. He ate THREE burgers. (Didn't care for the fries, though...what kind of 7-year-old kid doesn't like fries?)

I also brought a box of popsicles, and he had about four of those, as well. Sis said they had similar treats in Lebanon, but she hadn't thought to look for them here. Nephew just kept saying, "I did not know there was such a thing as 'popsicle' in America!" It was cute.

After our swim, I found out that Sis is a whiz at "foreign object implanted in your foot" removal. I broke a perfume bottle a couple of nights ago, and apparently didn't get it all swept up. Yesterday morning I stepped on a shard of glass. HARD. I poked around in there while cleaning it up, and thought maybe I had gotten it out, but by last night it was clear there was something still in there. I decided to take another go at it after our swim, when my feet were all soft and waterlogged, and spent about ten minutes poking around unsuccessfully. I could FEEL the glass with the tweezers, way in there, I just couldn't quite grab it. Nephew was quite concerned--"there is red, there is red!" (He apparently didn't know the word for blood.) "You need an ambulance! You need an ambulance!" Hot Med, a bit skeptically--"DO you need ambulance?" NO! I do not need an ambulance, for pete's sake. Eventually Sis offered to try. She got a needle and some tweezers, rammed 'em in there, and pulled out a piece of glass about 1/4" long. We all marveled at its size. I told her she could send me a bill for glass removal, or I could pay in popsicles. Heh.

Before I left, Nephew asked hopefully if I would be coming to swim again tonight. (Answer no, Hot Med is working.) My heart was a little warmed by his asking, but I'm under no real illusion that he's THAT fond of my company.

I'm pretty sure it's my popsicles.

In other news, my eye is still red, two weeks after wonky lash removal. I left a message last week with the doctor's office, asking if it that was okay, or if I should be worried. No one ever called back, which I found appalling, frankly. I tried again today--the girl who answered had no excuse for the unreturned call, but apologized and said she would relay the question to the doctor right away and call me back. She was true to her word--she called about ten minutes later to tell me the doctor wasn't worried--it USUALLY clears up faster than that, but not ALWAYS, and they would be happy to squeeze me in next week if I'd like him to take a look at it. I told them I'd give it a few more days first. I really just wanted to hear someone tell me I'm still within the bounds of normal. Normal for me always being something of a subjective thing. Heh.

Those of you so inclined, please think good thoughts/say prayers for a friend of mine who's been discovered to have a brain tumor. The biopsy results aren't back yet, so they don't know exactly what they're dealing with, but...a brain tumor is never good. And she doesn't have health insurance, so...send some good juju her way, please.

Mr. Monk is back tonight! For the final season! They'd better by god tell us who murdered Trudy. I'm just sayin'.

Good weekends, everyone.

Four months? Really?

Hot Med and I had our first date four months ago tonight. Now, you still shouldn't expect any "save the date" announcements, by any means...I'm just amazed we've made it this far, considering that after our first incredibly awkward phone conversation I wasn't sure I wanted to meet in person at all. And after our first date I really had reservations about a second. And then after the third or fourth date I remember exasperatedly telling my mother that I didn't have the time or patience to teach him English.

I still don't--though God knows somebody needs to--but...here we are. No expectations...and maybe that's the way to go. I had great expectations for my relationship with New Guy, after all, and look how that turned out. Heh.

Other than that...

The evening of monologues went really well. I hadn't been onstage in a year, and I was a little nervous before the rehearsal run-through, but as soon as I heard people laugh, I was fine, and had a lot of fun. Hot Med had to work, which is just as well, since I think he would have been bored.

And lately he does not hesitate to tell me when something is boring him. And what bores him? Well, anything on TV that's not an action movie, plus conversations he can't quite follow. You'd think that might stir him on to getting more ESL classes, but you'd be wrong. I've tried to encourage him in that direction, but I'm starting to feel like a nag, so...I guess he'll go when he's ready. Or not. He is actually understanding a lot more of what he hears than he used to, but his vocabulary is very limited, and he still has trouble with certain sounds that aren't common to Arabic. "P" comes out sounding like "b" and "th" is more of a "f." So my dog's name is "Budge" and sometimes he is "firsty."

The other day he was talking about pant length--and whatever he was trying to call the length between "pants" and "shorts"--what you or I might call "capris"--it sounded to me like "panticools," and I laughed for about ten minutes uncontrollably. He didn't quite understand why it was so funny, but he likes making me laugh, so he just kept saying it over and over. Hmm....maybe I don't want him to learn correct English, after all. Hee.

I'm preparing to sing a few songs with my pickin' boys and do a scene from a play (the one I was going to do last spring and am now going to do next spring) at the big grand opening party of the theatre's new space. I'm also supposed to be hitting some vendors up for food. Perhaps I should get on that. It might involve making phone calls, and despite the fact that I spend a great deal of my work day on the phone, I've never gotten comfortable with cold-calling of any sort. We'll want our guests to eat, though...so I should just suck it up and get it done.

I'm sure something else must have happened in the last couple of weeks...

You probably don't want to hear about the wonky backward-growing eyelash that cost me $250 (so far) in doctor bills, do you? My eye is still somewhat red, a week after the expensive wonky lash removal, so maybe we'll discuss it again another time. Though I hope not. Fingers crossed. Although, on the plus side, the results (apart from the lash problem) of my first-ever actual eye exam were "your eyes look great. Don't come back until you're 50." (Or, you know, in three years. Hee. And sigh.)

Yesterday I cleaned my office and desk. That was exciting. And way, way overdue.

Other than that, well...it's been a bit slow around here. Nothing much to report, really. I'll check back in when I have something to say, I suppose.

I'm not dead.

In case you were wondering. I just seem to have an extended case of the summertime/it's so hot it makes me a little cranky/don't feel like formulating a post blues. Heh.

Nutshell?

• Still seeing Hot Med. Sometimes want to smack him, but then he makes me laugh, so...it's still on.
• Working on monologues for performance this Saturday evening. Should be fun. Can't decide whether to tell Hot Med about it--I really think he'd be bored (no "action"), but I don't want his feelings to be hurt if I don't invite him. Hmm...
• Had a decent 4th of July.
• Too hot to walk, but have been swimming a few times.
• Went back to hometown yesterday to visit with friends again. Miss them. *Pout.*
• Car battery died in hometown yesterday. Jumped it to drive home, borrowed my dad's portable battery charger for this morning, waiting to hear from the mechanic whether the alternator is involved. (Please god, no.)
• Had a bad allergy outbreak last week. Ponied up money to see the doctor. Also have a big red splotch in one eye which the doctor assumed was also allergy-related. Prescribed allergy drops.
• Had heart attack at pharmacy because said drops were $103.49!
• Drops aren't working. Don't think it's allergies. Fearful that an expensive eye doctor may have to be consulted. (Please god, no.)

I think that catches you up.

It's supposed to be 100 today and 103 tomorrow, with heat indexes even higher...so my heat-induced blahs won't be going away this week, for sure. I'll probably also be whiny. The whiny blahs...poor Hot Med. (Hee.)

I don't see why I shouldn't be kissing this, do you?

My parents took this picture of Pudge at their house this weekend. I swear to you that no Photoshopping was done to achieve this creepy, demonic look. His eyes just do that! (In pictures, I mean. Not in real life. Though that would be super-cool.)

And how was the weekend otherwise? Lovely. There's just something great about friendships that enable you to fall right back into step, after years of separation, as if you'd just reentered the room to resume a conversation started mere moments before. We didn't do anything spectacular...just talked and laughed and ate and drank and snuggled with the resident dogs and ran to the store and complained about the heat and then started in all over again. Like I said, lovely. They're mostly later sleepers than I am, so I managed to get in a little time with my parents, as well, while waiting for my friends to wake up after our late night at the bar.

I think we've all held up really well, after all these years...everyone looked great. And, believe me, nothing makes you feel better, as an all-too-soon-to-be-47-year-old, than hearing "my god, you haven't aged a day," or "you're even more beautiful in your 40s than you were in your 20s." Heh.

Of course, I'm a little depressed now that I don't get to see these people every day, but maybe it won't be another 20 years before we're all together again in the same room. I had several primary groups of close friends in college, sort of serially (first the instrumental music people, then the vocal music people, then the theatre people) (though I never actually dropped any of the groups, just changed my focus a bit), but these are the people I was close to when I really...became myself, if that makes any sense. It was great to spend some time with them again, limited as it was. And until the next time--there's always Bacefook!

So, did I even THINK about Hot Med while I was gone? You know, I did, a bit. Not constantly, mind you, but I did kind of miss him. That's probably a good sign. Heh.

It's so hot. Whine, whine, whine.

Sorry. But it is. And maybe you'd think after a lifetime spent in Oklahoma I'd be used to the summers, but I'm not. It's "hot as the hell." (As Hot Med's sister amusingly says.) Gah.

So, what's been going on around here? Oh, many things and nothing, I guess. I've started many blog posts in my head, but none of them ever made it to the page. But I guess you knew that.

Hot Med and I are still dating, for better or worse. I worry sometimes that the thing I like most about the relationship may end up being the thing that kills it: it's relatively uncomplicated. We walk, we swim, we eat...pretty simple stuff. It's essentially the reverse of my relationship with New Guy, which was sometimes overly complicated. I suppose that's part of the appeal of Hot Med. But I worry that, sooner or later, one or the other of us will get bored. Okay...I worry that I, sooner or later, will get bored. We can't even break things up by watching TV, really...he will only watch action movies. I, on the other hand, would rather gouge my eyes out than watch a Jean-Claude Van Damme or Steven Segal movie again. Jackie Chan doesn't do it for me, either. I get why HE likes them--they're easy to follow, no need to understand the dialogue. Heck...is there any actual dialogue in your typical Sylvester Stallone movie? But they're not my cup of tea. I had hoped that as his English improved, he might be willing to expand his viewing habits...but so far, no such luck.

In the meantime, though...on we roll. Dating someone from another culture is always interesting, in and of itself. I've learned a few things. For one thing, I've learned that "the stink-eye" is truly cross-cultural. I throw a mean stink-eye, and he's never once failed to get the point. Heh. Then last night I did something in front of him that was apparently a horrible atrocity of an act, and which very nearly caused him to walk right out of my house.

So, what did I do that was so appalling? I kissed my dog on the nose. You'd have thought I had just beheaded a baby, or something, so strong was his reaction. For cryin' out loud--it's not like I slipped him the tongue! I just kissed the sweetest, bestest doggy in the world on his cute big ol' snout. He couldn't believe I kissed a "dirty, nasty" dog nose with the same mouth I use to kiss him. I told him to get over it and he sat on the couch in angry silence for an hour while I watched "So You Think You Can Dance," 'til I finally asked him if he just wanted to go home. He did...until he realized I wasn't actually offering him a ride, and then he decided he wasn't so repulsed that he was willing to walk the 7 miles home in the heat. Then we had a little talk about how dog mouths are actually cleaner than human mouths, and since Pudge lives inside and isn't allowed access to the cat boxes, and doesn't have contact with any other dogs (whose butts he might be tempted to sniff), HIS mouth is particularly clean, and finally he decided it wasn't such a big deal, after all. Interestingly, though...he said he wouldn't mind if I kissed the cats, and their mouths are much dirtier, given their penchant for licking themselves clean constantly.

So...that was interesting.

What else?

Well, this weekend is the weekend that I'm journeying to my hometown for a little slumber party with some of my college theatre buddies. I can't wait. And no, I'm not taking Hot Med. (Though I did take him to lunch with my cat lady friends a couple of weeks ago, so it's not like I'm generally averse to him meeting my friends.) He has to work, so it's a moot point, really...but I wouldn't take him, anyway. Why? Well, I haven't seen some of these people in 20 years, so there's going to be a lot of catching up, and a lot of really old inside jokes that I won't want to be trying to translate/explain. I just want to enjoy myself, and not be worried about someone feeling left out. Also, he's not always particularly subtle...and sometimes he just plain lacks a filter. I'm sure part of this is due to the ESL thing, and maybe part is cultural, and part just...Hot Med, but if he wants to know something, he'll ask. And if that's a woman's age, or the like, well...he doesn't mean to offend, but he might (although most people seem to find it charming). He's getting better, but this is going to be a particularly...diverse group of people, and though none of them are particularly easily offended, I still wouldn't want to have to worry about possibly inappropriate questions about sexual orientation/lifestyle choices, you know? I don't want to stress about anything. Plus, there's going to be lots of drinking, and, as we know, he doesn't drink, and doesn't really like it when I do. So...he's not invited. Maybe next time. Heh.

Other than that, what's going on in my life? Not a whole lot. There's an evening of monologues (of which I'll be doing two) coming up in July, which should be fun. My little band of pickin' guys and I are going to do a few songs at the official opening of the new building of the theatre company that had to shelve the show I was rehearsing a while back...that's the end of August. That endeavor could prove more than usually challenging, since our guitar player will be unable to join us (something about having a newborn baby at home--where are his priorities!?--hee), and we'll have to reconfigure the remaining two boys from their usual bass and mandolin roles. They both play everything, really...so it's just a matter of switching things up appropriately, but it won't just be "grab a beer, dust off the songs and play 'em." It's something to do, at any rate.

And that, I think, is enough rambling. I'm going to go hike the Appalachian Trail now. Or cruise up and down the "coastline" of Buenos Aires. Or cheat on my spouse. Take your pick. Cover for me, will ya?

Greater like has no woman.

Yesterday I did something for my man that no woman should ever have to do.

I tried on and purchased a swimsuit. Hee!

Hot Med is very excited about the pool in his new apartment complex, and insisted that we had to go swimming earlier this week. I said I would only agree to do that in the evenings, as I rather assiduously avoid the sun in these, my later, wiser years, and that I would have to see if I could find an old swimsuit. He had no problem with the restriction, so I looked to see if I still owned a suit. I did...but just barely. It was too small, but so old and stretched out that it still actually kind of "fit," but it was so threadbare in spots that I was forced to wear a tank top over it in the interest of public decency. "Take off shirt!" "NO!!!!" I promised that I would buy a decent suit at the next opportunity, and that was yesterday. Thank goodness Target has a decent selection of comfortable swimsuits for those of us not young and bikini-ready. And yay for boy short bottoms!

And that's probably the most exciting thing I've done in the past few days. My life has been more or less on an even keel...which doesn't make for good blogging, but which is kind of nice, for a change. I'm sure something "interesting" will happen soon. Heh.

I didn't intentionally go over a week without posting. It just hasn't been that eventful around here, I guess. I'll give you some quick bullets.

• Spent quite a bit of time with Hot Med last weekend, then didn't really see him again until last night. (Juggling our work and his work-out schedules.) Maybe we should always wait a few days between dates. Hee. Last night was lovely--we were both really glad to see each other.
• I think he must have mentioned the wanting a baby thing to his brother or sister, as last night he assured me he no longer wanted me to have a baby, as it might be dangerous for my health. "Maybe dead." I can't imagine that he actually went off in search of articles on the risks of later life pregnancies, so I'm thinking maybe one of his siblings told him he should back off. Heh. "It's okay--I have nephew." Works for me.
• Hot Med and Sis will be moving to a new apartment this weekend, which is literally right on the river. We look forward to many oh-so-convenient walks and picnics.
• It's looking like the play I was hoping to do THIS spring, and then hoping to do this FALL, will now be NEXT SPRING. Better late than never...but I really need to find a project to work on soon. I'm getting a little itchy for some creativity. Maybe it's time to stop talking about doing a one-woman show and just DO it.
• "So You Think You Can Dance" is back! Whoo to the hoo!
• At the end of the month, I will be having a little weekend "reunion" in my hometown with some college friends--some of whom I haven't seen in 20 years. One of them moved back there a few years ago and bought a cool, big old house, so--slumber party at Layce's! Whoo to the double hoo!
• Today is my monthly Friday "early day," so I'm out of here at 1:00. Nap, nap, nap!

I can't even think of any more bullets--it HAS been a boring week.

I hope the weekend brings something to talk about. In a good way.

Please do enjoy your own weekends!

It's definitely love.

With the Vegan Citrus Sparerib Cutlets, of course. The orange "chicken" and pepper "steaks" were nothing to write home about.

So, how was my weekend with the boy? Fine. We did manage to tame my overgrown shrubs and flowerbeds. (Totally not a euphemism, by the way. Though I have used lawn and garden-related euphemisms in the past, this time it's a straight up reference to shrub trimming. Heh.) He suffers from a stereotypical male problem--the inability to distinguish between a "flower" and a "weed," but...we managed not to come to blows. (That's not a euphemism, either.) We ate Indian food. We had a slightly unpleasant encounter with a jerk police officer. (Not that interesting a story--the guy was just a dillweed. Heh.) I took him to a park he hadn't experienced yet, and we walked among the rock chasms. It was nice.

This week he is working the closing shift at the restaurant every night, which sucks. His brother and I are alternating picking him up, but other than that, I won't see him until the weekend.

Okay now...in reply to the "you like him" squeals in response to my last post, yes...I do like him. More than I thought I would. I admit it. But...

There's always a "but," isn't there? The fly in the proverbial ointment?

BUT...I still don't think this is really a long-term relationship, and I'll tell you why. Skipping over the few petty things he does that irritate me--'cause those certainly aren't deal breakers, and I'm sure he could come up with an equivalent list about me--here it is in a nutshell: it seems he wants to have kids.

How do I know this? Because he has, more than once, asked if I'd like to have kids. With him. No ambiguity there.

Now, a desire to have children (whether or not it's being urged on him by his mother, which I suspect may be true) is a perfectly normal desire for a 39-year-old man. However, as I have told him, more than once, if that is the case, then that 39-year-old man needs to get over his preference for older women and try a little harder to find some interest in the younger ones. 'Cause this particular older woman AIN'T HAVIN' NO BABIES. I'm 46 years old, and that ship has sailed.

Now, technically, I don't know that it has literally sailed. Aunt Flo still makes her regular visits, and I haven't tested my FSH levels to see if the machinery is truly starting to shut down, but the fact remains that most women of my age can only get (and stay) pregnant with some difficulty. And I absolutely DO know that I am not spiritually or emotionally up for later life first-time motherhood. My knees are creaking, my dollar store reading glasses are getting stronger each year, I'm staring down the barrel of 50--I think that's the universe's way of saying "how about a nice cat and a good book, instead."

So, I tell him this, quite clearly, he says he was just kidding, and he doesn't really like babies, anyway--"expensive, noisy, messy, every day wah,wah,wah"--but then he brings it up AGAIN. Part of me thinks the nicest thing to do would be to break it off now, and send him on his way before HE gets any older. But then another part of me says "fuck it." I've been honest with him, he's a grown man who can make his own decisions (at least in theory--in actuality he's in many ways an overgrown boy), and I'm having fun. I deserve some fun, at this point. If he really wants to father a child, then HE needs to man up and make the choices necessary for that to happen.

So, MY plan is this: we continue to enjoy each other's company for as long as we enjoy each other's company, and if, at some point, he wants to stop seeing me and pursue someone who will eagerly have his children, then...no hard feelings. Or, conversely, if I want to stop seeing him and pursue someone with no desire to have children, then...no hard feelings.

We'll see how well this plan works, I guess, huh?

If a picture's worth a thousand words...

I took down the picture of New Guy from my fridge. I thought about how I would feel if a guy I was dating had a picture of his ex on HIS fridge, and the answer was...not so good. So I took it down. I needed to do it anyway, I suppose...it has been a year (exactly a year on May 28th, but who's counting?) since he left.

Just for the heck of it, I put a picture of Hot Med up in its place, to see if he notices. Hee.

And okay, okay...I guess I should take the New Guy picture off the piano, as well, right? Sigh.

I've been having weird anxious dreams this week. First, I dreamed that I went to see New Guy, but with Hot Med in tow, for some reason, and I just really wanted to talk to New Guy alone for a bit, but I couldn't explain to someone with limited English skills that I was "seeking closure," and then, before I even GOT any closure, New Guy was parading out his hot new girlfriend and it was all just horrible. Heh.

The next night I dreamed that I went to pick Hot Med up from work, as planned, but he was there with a frumpy blond girl, who he had decided was going to be his new girlfriend, instead of me, and I was really pissed off that he was dumping me after I had driven all that way to give him a ride, and he just laughed, and then I was REALLY pissed off, and then I tried to warn the frumpy blond girl that he was a dog, and she said she didn't care, and then I woke up and felt a little ooky all day. I mean, I know he flirts with all the girls at the gym, and I really don't care, since he assures me that he tells them all about his beautiful girlfriend, but what if he DOES decide to go out with one of them, and see what I mean about it being easier when they're just your plaything? Hee.

Then last night I picked him up from work, after not seeing him for a couple of days, and he literally RAN out to the car, jumped in and started kissing me, and there was no frumpy blond anywhere in sight, so I guess he didn't find anything he liked better at the gym, after all. Of course...he didn't bring me a take-out box of rice this time, so...

Maybe she'd just been there and gone already. With MY rice.

I'm kidding. I'm really not THAT crazy.

Anyway, I'm ready for a nice, long holiday weekend, at least some portion of which I will spend with Hot Med. Maybe we can finally get to work on those overgrown shrubs. And he wants to cook breakfast for me at some point. Sweet.

Happy Memorial Day, everyone!

I think I'm in love.

With these. (Was that not what you were expecting?) Seriously, I tried these for the first time last night and I love them so much I want to marry them. I've been looking for a culinary love ever since Whole Foods stopped carrying the barbeque "beef" skewers I was so fond of, and...this may be it. Before I can make an official declaration, though, I suppose I should try the pepper "steak" and the orange "chicken." I like to make an informed choice.

In other news, I had a fairly interesting weekend--not all of it "interesting" in a good way.

Friday night, the first night I was planning to pick up Hot Med after the late shift, I got there a little early (the restaurant was hosting some sort of party, so they were a bit late closing), so Hot Med insisted I wait inside and drink some iced tea. As I was turning off the car, I had trouble getting the key out of the ignition. The switch has been a little sticky for a while--I puffed some graphite into it, and that helped, but...I'd probably been living on borrowed time for a while. So, I waited and waited...finally he was done, we got in the car and...nothing. The key turned, grudgingly, but the car wouldn't start. So it turned into a whole embarrassing ordeal in the parking lot, with the wait staff all trying to help figure out the problem. Finally, the boss came out, assessed the situation and made the obvious suggestion that, since I drive a manual, we simply push-start it. (I swear, I was getting ready to suggest that myself. Hee.) I hadn't popped a clutch in a long time, so he said "let me in there!" It didn't take long for the gaggle of guys to get it rolling, and it started right up. "Thank you, Boss, thank you!" (That's a Hot Med quote. It was so cutely enthusiastic that his boss and I both cracked up.) Hot Med was worried about me driving home, and wanted me to stay at his house, but I pointed out that I would be fine until I turned off the car, and I'd rather be at my house with the critters if I was going to be stranded for a while. So I dropped him off, then went home with my generous portion of take-out steamed rice. (Which he insisted on preparing for me. He had even sprinkled some freshly ground pepper on top, having noticed that I grind it onto nearly everything. The boy doesn't miss much, in that way.)

Saturday morning I used one of the "up to four" yearly tows I get from my roadside assistance, and had the car taken to the mechanic I found recently who is open on Saturday. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to get to it before they closed, so I arranged to borrow a car from my parents for the weekend. While waiting for the car to arrive, I talked on the phone with Hot Bro, who wanted to know if Hot Med and I wanted to join him and his wife downtown at the arts festival I had told them about. I explained the car situation, and that I wouldn't be mobile again until later in the day, and he was very concerned that I not feel obligated to pick up Hot Med from work that night if it was too much trouble. He was very concerned that I not feel "imposed upon." I assured him that I had OFFERED the rides, not been ASKED FOR the rides, and that I in no way felt imposed upon. Nice of him to be concerned, though.

My parents tag-teamed a car over with my sister and her husband, and we decided to hit the mall and have lunch while they were in town. I invited Hot Med along--so yes, he has now hung out with my family twice. They think he's charming. Well, most of them do--I'm not sure my father is so crazy about him, after he began choking and gagging at the cigarette smell in the borrowed car. ("You Papa should no smoke. Maybe make dead." I couldn't agree more. I've been trying to get him to quit for years.) But my sister thinks he's "cute and funny," and my mother finds him quite a "character."

I dropped him off at work that evening at 5:00, and picked him up at closing, without incident. Thank goodness. I was also gifted with an enormous to-go box of brown rice, which I stretched through three meals. (Once with butter and honey, once with cheese, once with soy sauce and green onions. I do love rice.)

Sunday morning we went to the arts festival and walked around for a while. It was a gorgeous day, the first day without rain in...22, 23 days? (I lost track, but I know we set a record.)

I had a party to attend Sunday afternoon (at the home of one of my cat lady friends), so I dropped him back at home with a promise to return after the party so we could spend the evening together. He was disappointed that he wasn't going to be allowed to trim my untidy shrubs, but I assured him the shrubs would still be untidy later in the week.

We spent the evening at my house, and it was lovely, with no complaining about the smell of my house, or the distance involved in getting there. (He learns quickly, I guess. Hee.)

Yesterday I picked up my car, complete with new ignition switch. My parents can't come back for theirs until the weekend, so until then, I've got a spare. I hope I don't need to use it. Heh.

I'm seeing Hot Med tonight, and...we'll continue to take it as it comes. I will confess...I'm getting pretty attached to him. Argh! This was not the plan. Life is so much easier when you don't really care about your boy-toy. Why did he have to go and be mostly sweet? I can't fight sweet when it's encased in those shoulders and biceps! Sigh. And hee.

"Yesss! He issss my....boyfriend."

I love a good paraphrased "Young Frankenstein" reference first thing in the morning, don't you?

Okay, okay...those of you who are my Bacefook friends know that I referred to Hot Med as my "boyfriend." What the heck, right? He is, for all intents and purposes.

Don't go expecting any "save the date" emails from me any time soon, though...I still have serious doubts about the longevity of this relationship. For now, though...well, I'm just going to enjoy it while I enjoy it, and try not to think too much about the concept of "expiration dating." (Thank you "Sex and the City"--I can always count on you for a good catchphrase.)

There was a moment last night when I thought the relationship was going to end right there, when he bluntly told me that my house "smelled" and I should probably clean it. Okay, buddy....stop it right there. For one thing, the house did not "smell" like anything but incense. I am VERY sensitive about odors, multiple pet-owner that I am, and at that moment, the house smelled okay. It was maybe a little stuffy, as the temperatures have been relatively mild, and the A/C hasn't been kicking on much, so the air stagnates a bit...but it did not "smell." And yeah, we're nearing the weekend, which is when I DO clean, so, while everything is neatly in its place, it could all use a good sweeping and dusting. But, as I pointedly pointed out to him (hee), when would I have had time to do any extra cleaning this week? What with the full-time job and ferrying him around like a taxi service? He became concerned that I was "sad" and started saying "don't cry." Heh. I responded that I wasn't "sad," and had no intention of crying, but that what he said was mean and I was very ANGRY. He spent the next ten minutes apologizing. As he should have.

Anyway, the rest of the evening passed without incident, for the most part, though he did complain on the way home about how long the distance is between our houses. And what, I asked, am I expected to do about THAT? He's moving into a new apartment in a couple of weeks, which will be a little closer to my house, and way closer to his job (and his sister's), and is considerably larger, and will hopefully provide the possibility for a little more privacy, so we won't HAVE to drive all the way to my house every time we want to be alone. We'll see how that goes.

He wanted to spend the night at my house last night, but there was NO WAY I was getting up an hour early to shlep him to his house and back before work, and so I told him. Logistical difficulties may kill this relationship sooner than anything else. Heh.

So, anyway, I went to bed feeling pissy, but woke up in a somewhat more charitable mood. The restaurant where he works has started mixing up his schedule--some lunch shifts, which he's used to, and some dinner shifts, which he's NOT. Staying up past 11:00 is very hard for him, and he was clearly exhausted last night. He was practically falling asleep on the drive home, and I'm pretty sure you'd have to pay extra to take those bags under his eyes on an airline these days. So I'm cutting him some slack. I was kind of tired, too...and I think perhaps we've just seen a bit too much of each other this week. Maybe I just need a little "me" time.

I can enjoy a little of that "me" time tonight and tomorrow night, as I wait for 10:30 to roll around, at which time I am going to get up off the couch and go pick him up from work and take him home (he's got back-to-back night shifts). I volunteered for this duty, mind you, as I knew it was REALLY hard for his brother to be up that late (he goes to bed even earlier than Hot Med), and of course the buses don't run that late and it would be a pretty scary walk at that time of night, and blahblahblah, I'm way too nice a person, aren't I? To his credit, Hot Med, upon being informed of this arrangement (which I made with Hot Bro behind his back), expressed concern about me being out that late, but I assured him that I am almost never actually in bed before midnight, so I'll be okay. And this particular problem will solve itself when he moves, as it will then be only a five-minute walk home through a well-lighted neighborhood for him.

So...this having a "boyfriend" business is just exhausting, isn't it? I'd forgotten.

On the flip side, though...he's quite insistent about coming over some time this weekend and helping me trim my seriously overgrown trees and shrubs, so that's nice. And he's very good about holding doors, grabbing my reading glasses for me if he sees me grab something printed and squint, holding my purse, etc. (New Guy wouldn't even TOUCH my purse. Seriously. Some idiotic divorce counseling advice on reasserting his "manhood." I asked him once...if I fell and broke both arms, and needed you to drive me to the hospital, would you grab my purse for me on the way to the car? His answer? No.)

So, one day at a time, and we'll see...what we see.

Weekend Update

It turned out to be a good weekend, if not exactly the one I had planned.

We decided not to go to the Lebanese festival. Hot Med's sister and brother couldn't go because of some last-minute work-related things, and since the weather was looking kind of iffy, I decided not to make the trip with just the two of us.

Instead, Friday night I picked him up and then stopped at a restaurant with a good salad bar. Hot Med was still full from lunch, so he didn't eat salad, but he did help himself to three ice cream cones from the free ice cream station. Just the cones, mind you...he didn't fill them with ice cream. "Too fattening." Freak. He didn't have any problem filling one up for me, though. Then we hung out at my house for a while.

I have to say...that while I'm still on the alert for stereotypical (of his culture) chauvinistic behavior, there hasn't been any lately. Instead, he is all too happy to fetch and carry for me. He wants to come over next weekend and help me trim my trees and shrubs. I don't know if this is just "courting" behavior, and subject to change or not, but...it's working for now. Truthfully, I think he's a little bit p***y-whipped. Heh.

Saturday, since I wasn't off eating tabouli, I cleaned the house, went ahead and attended Cat Lady Lunch, then picked up Hot Med on my way home. I had promised him pizza that evening at my favorite pizza place, and a walk first in the park. He ate a salad and four whole pieces of pizza--the most I'd ever seen him eat. "Pizza of the Gods" indeed.

My family and I had been going back and forth over what to do for Mother's Day...finally the decision was made that they would come to Tulsa and we'd have lunch together here. My brother-in-law wanted to go to a restaurant that we all loved as kids, and hadn't been to in years. It's sort of a Tulsa institution--but as an adult you realize that the food really isn't good, and that the "Mexican village" atmosphere is quite cheesy. However...that's what we decided to do, and to liven things up, my mom and I decided it would be fun to invite Hot Med along.

Yes, that's right--I took him to meet my family (plus a friend of my sister's and her two children), hoping that doing so wasn't committing to an act of betrothal or anything. Heh. I figured since I'd already met his family it was only fair to see how he interacted with mine. He was incredibly enthusiastic in response to the invitation: "YES!"

And? It was fine. He kissed my mother's hand and she tittered like a schoolgirl. At one point, he said "your mom is funny and beautiful," and when I relayed that to her, I believe she blushed. Later when he left the table and went to the bathroom, my sister leaned over to say "He's so CUTE!" The consensus was that he was cute and funny, though my mother did say, jokingly, "too bad he's not independently wealthy, too." Yeah well, would that we all were, right? My sister did say later that she felt bad looking to me for translations from time to time, but hey--that's just the way it goes. I've had a few weeks to practice my "Hot Med Speak."

He gamely ate his entire plate of entirely mediocre food, so bonus points to him! We all agreed that perhaps we didn't need to relive our childhoods in that way again any time soon--even though we did get to sit in the "cave"--which would have thrilled us "back in the day." My mom asked "didn't the food used to be better?" To which I responded: "It's exactly the same...we just didn't know any better back then." Hee. It was incredibly crowded, though...lots of families with children, so apparently the appeal still holds for the young ones. (There's an arcade! And an hourly magic show!) That or there are a lot of Tulsans who have bad taste. You decide. Heh.

So, that was my weekend. How was yours?

I'm his wallpaper.

On his cellphone, that is. Against my better judgment, I let him snap a couple of shots when we were standing in the wind on the pedestrian bridge over the river. I say "against my better judgment" because I didn't get a chance to review the pictures for "flatterability." Given a choice, I would instantly delete about 90% of all pictures taken of me. I would have deleted the wallpaper pic--I think I look terrible. Oh, well...it's not like he's showing it to everyone, right? Just to his boss and co-workers. Gack!

Hot Med, his brother and his sister-in-law...what shall we blog-name her? Sil. Hot Med, Hot Bro and Sil came to the show Friday night. They made it through the whole show and claimed to have enjoyed themselves. I wondered how much Hot Med would understand, but he got the gist of a lot of it. He definitely recognized Obama, and though I think he confused Coburn with Bush, he got the thrust of the joke. He was also particularly taken with the baby-tossing in the Octomom number. They all agreed my big number was the best.

Afterwards, we were standing there when a girl came up (I didn't know her, but she happened to be there with some friends of mine, small world and all) who knew Hot Med from the gym. She said a big "hi" and he instantly squeezed my shoulder and said "this is my girlfriend." We chatted for a bit about the show and our mutual friends. Then as soon as she walked away he took great pains to let me know that he knew her from the gym, but he didn't "like" her. I wasn't worried. Heh. I have sort of mixed feelings about this exchange. On the one hand, I keep telling him we're "dating," and it's premature to call me his "girlfriend." On the other hand...it's kind of refreshing to have a guy so willing to claim the relationship in public. I always end up with the ones who introduce you as their "friend," even long past the point where YOU think the "girlfriend" appellation could be used. (New Guy being a case in point.)

Anyway, Friday night's show was good, Saturday night's was even better. I did, indeed, "kill" in my big number. It's both very nice and somewhat frustrating to have people who've seen me in all three years that I've done this show, only now realize that I can really sell a number. The director apologized that I'd been under-utilized previously (and even in this show, to a certain extent). Maybe next year I won't have to beg for a good song. Heh. Also nice? A woman I didn't know stopped to tell me how great the show was, and also to let me know that she's seen me in "real" plays several times and I'm always wonderful. Why, thank you, Strange Woman. Nice to hear. Saturday night one of the two musical directors made it a point to tell me that he'd been remiss over the last three years in not telling me how great I was, and how much he had always appreciated my professionalism. His new girlfriend, who I've known casually for years, through an theatre friend, said that she remarked to him, when she saw that I was in the show, "I always know it's going to be good if Liz is in it. She never lets me down." A few other people, who know me either socially or through the "straight" (meaning non-musical, not non-gay) theatre community, remarked that they "had no idea I could sing like that." Okay, clearly, I've got to do a better job coordinating the two sides of my performing personality. I'm better known in Tulsa as an actress, so I guess I need to do some P.R. on my singing career!

We had cast parties both Friday and Saturday nights--both were fun, and both nights I stayed up way too late, though I did a pretty good job controlling my alcohol intake--not a single hangover--woo hoo! Hot Med made me lunch at his place on Saturday, and made dinner for me (and his sister and nephew) on Sunday evening. He is the healthiest cook ever. All vegetables--nothing greasy or creamy or overly cheesy. Lots of lemon juice and olive oil. If I only ever ate meals he prepared for me, I'd be skinny. (He wouldn't like that, though...he doesn't like skinny girls. They look "like they'd break." Hee!)

I think I'm going to make dinner for him at my place tonight, and then on Saturday, I will be joining the entire family--Hot Med, Hot Bro, Sil, Sis and Nephew--on an excursion to a nearby town for a Lebanese heritage festival.

I know, I know...you're thinking this is seeming like a "relationship." Shut up! I'm just having fun. I think I deserve a little fun--don't you?

Rainy days and Fridays...

I want some sunshine, and I want it now. It's rained off and on all week. I am tired of it. Someone get on this for me, 'kay?

I haven't seen Hot Med all week, as I've had rehearsal every night, and we don't talk on the phone, as that is just frustrating, but I will see him tonight, as he and his brother and sister-in-law are coming to see the "Fridiron." I know HM won't understand many of the lyrics, but I think he will enjoy the music and silliness, and mostly...he is just excited to see me onstage. I had invited them all to come, but didn't think they were going to, as they are very "early to bed" people, and thought it might be too late an evening for them. But, according to Hot Bro, Hot Med really, really wanted to come, so they're all going to give it a whirl. I'm glad they're willing to do this for him, and I hope they enjoy it. I'm giving them my comps, so at least they're not out too much money. I can't do anything about them having to stay up past their bedtime. Heh.

It's a pretty good show, I think. Maybe a little long, but the mayor came last night and she loved it. We lampoon her pretty strongly in a couple of songs, including my big closing number (to the tune of Rohemian Bhapsody--hee), and she sat right up front, so I lampooned her directly to her face. She was very good about it. We'll see if I suddenly notice a big increase in my city utility bill. (Kidding, Mayor Kathy, kidding!)

We've got cast parties both tonight and tomorrow night, so it should be quite a weekend. And then on Sunday, I will rest. And probably spend some time with Hot Med, if he still likes me after he sees me onstage singing about hookers and tossing around babies like bean bags. (Referring to the former governor of New York and "Octomom," respectively.)

Hope your weekends are lovely and filled with just the right amount of mayors, babies, and/or hookers.

Maybe I'm more girly than I thought

By which I mean that I spent quite a bit of time with Hot Med over the weekend...more than I had intended to, actually. I was thinking we'd have one weekend evening date, but he came over both Friday and Saturday evenings, and we went out to eat, took a walk and hung out at his place (with his family, off and on) on Sunday afternoon. I was surprised by how good it was to see him Friday evening, after a week of NOT seeing him.

Maybe I judged too hastily and harshly. Or maybe I underestimated the appeal of someone who clearly and demonstrably adores me. Heh. New Guy, for all that I knew that he cared about me, was NOT into public displays of affection, particularly. We'd hold hands occasionally, and he'd give me a hug and a peck as a greeting, but he just wasn't a big "I need to put my arms around this woman right now" kind of guy, and Hot Med...seems to be. Not that he's mauling me in public, or anything, and I do still have some misgivings about the way he ratcheted up the hand-holding when we were around my male friends that time, but...I have no doubt that he likes me, and that's kind of nice. And, while New Guy would regularly tell me he found me beautiful, he didn't do it with nearly the frequency that Hot Med does. It's flattering, if nothing else!

I still have a hard time thinking of this as a truly long term prospect, but...we're kind of finding a groove, I guess. We're communicating a little better, starting to get each other's senses of humor a bit--there are still major communication barriers, of course, and I can't seem to get him motivated to get back into ESL classes (which he desperately needs to do), but I have figured out how to handle making plans over the phone without too much frustration. I call, state clearly when and where I intend to pick him up, wait for him to repeat it back to me, and then we hang up. So far it's worked out okay. Hee.

I have also found out that we are compatible politically. Here is his succinct summing up of the current and past U.S. administrations: "Bush--no good. Stupid, crazy, make many dead. Obama--good! Change, make more clinics." The "make many dead" was accompanied by shooting sounds--clearly a referendum on the war. And I am assuming that "make more clinics" is limited English for "affordable healthcare for all." Heh.

So...it is what it is, and I'm enjoying it for now. I fully realize that there may come a time when I can't put my need for intellectual stimulation on the back burner any longer, but I'm trying not to focus on that. And, besides...maybe I've spent too much time looking for big brains, when I should have been looking for big hearts, eh? Something to think about, at least.

I have a very busy week of rehearsals and performances, so I won't see him again for a few days. We'll see how happy I am to see him when I do.