LizLand

Now that I'm not itching...

2010-06-15T13:50:00.002-06:00

I had a bad case of contact dermatitis/heat rash last week, after finally getting around to my "spring" yard cleaning. And an exhausting two long weekends of performances before that. I'm TIRED. Not that that explains why I didn't post for the couple of weeks before that, but...

To catch you up:

I did have a date with the delightful fellow from out-of-state. We had a nice time, a nice dinner, he's a very sweet guy. He couldn't stay too late, as he had plans the next day, so we parted with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. We talked almost every day for the next several days, he was planning to come see my last play and then...nothing. He seemingly disappeared from the planet. I left a couple of messages, then gave up, figuring he was blowing me off. He finally did call, days later, to tell me that he'd been "in a funk" and not listening to his messages. He then went on to describe his state of mind, which...well, let's just say if you went to the DSM IV and looked up "clinical depression," there'd be a picture of him there. He was concerned that he'd hurt my feelings...I told him to stop worrying about me and get himself some help, STAT. He's called once since then, but I missed the call and he didn't leave a message. He didn't answer my return call (like 10 minutes after the missed call) and I haven't heard from him since. I hope he's okay, but...I can't spend too much time worrying about someone who knows he needs help and refuses to get it. Moving on...

I've gotten random messages here and there from members of various dating sites...mostly of the "you sure are purty" variety. Nothing I'm taking too seriously.

Yesterday I got a couple of messages from one guy whose profile sounded interesting, but who had no profile pic. When I asked him why he said "I own a business and have a very jealous ex-wife." Next! I mean, seriously...if you're that afraid of your ex knowing you're dating, well, that's way too much baggage for me. And "I have a business"? As I asked him (and gee...then I suddenly stopped hearing from him), do you think you're doing something shameful? Are you embarrassed to be on here? 'Cause if you DO think there's something unsavory about the whole process, what do you really think about ME? Sheesh.

So, no real "dating" stories to relate. But...

I found out via email from his sis-in-law that Hot Med went back to Beirut a while back. Supposedly only for a long vacation, but they're not completely sure he's coming back. That makes me a little sad. If I had known I truly might never see him again, I probably would have run after him when I saw him in the parking lot that one night after rehearsal. (My last play rehearsed in a church next door to his restaurant.) Just to say "it was fun while it lasted, goodbye and good luck," you know?

Remember New Guy 2.0, and how he was a bit rude, and how we then mutually decided we shouldn't date, but could be friends? I've gotten the occasional joke forward/how're you doin' emails from him, and last week he upped the ante a bit. Seems he still thinks we're probably not meant to be life partners or anything, and he doesn't really have time for a girlfriend right now anyway (and that's the truth), but...he can't get me out of his mind. So, basically (and it was much nicer put than this), how would I feel about "friends with benefits"? And he hoped I wasn't insulted.

You know what? I'm not insulted, and I'm seriously considering the offer. What the heck, right? As long as we both know the score? There's nobody else I'm really interested in at the moment. Might as well have some fun this summer. I'm just sayin'. Heh.

The weekly update

2010-05-14T13:27:00.002-06:00

So...if you're wondering how last weekend's date with Bachelor #5 went...it didn't. Turns out his son and grandson decided to drive up from Dallas for a Mother's Day weekend get-together, and wanted him to be there, too. He didn't feel right saying no, of course, so our date was postponed until this weekend. He felt really bad about it, but I completely understand. Nothing trumps time with a grandchild. The son also announced at the big family gathering that he and his wife were expecting another grandchild, so...it's a good thing he was there.

So, our date is tomorrow night. I'm excited and a little nervous. We talk on the phone every day, and he seems so nice. I hope he's not disappointed with me in real life. I hope I'm not disappointed with HIM in real life. OMG, what if he has stubby fingers? Heh.

I keep trying to ignore Bachelor #6; I really do. But he just keeps refusing to realize he's being ignored. He emailed me last week, said he'd taken another look at my profile, and wanted to point out what he thought was a grammatical error, hoping I could take a "little dig." Hoping that I had "a since of humor." WTF?! Excuse me? Okay, I think what he pointed out was probably not technically "correct," but since it's an online dating profile and not, say, a scholarly treatise, I think a little colloquialism is okay, don't you? Mind you, his emails had been, from the beginning, rife with bad grammar and misspellings/typos. And I did not point out any of them, preferring to give him a pass, as it seemed he had some other good qualities that might offset the grammatical/keyboarding deficiencies.

But no more. I emailed back, simply, "I have a SENSE of humor." Then I went back to ignoring him...or so I thought.

But since then I've gotten a couple more emails from him, each one beginning by apologizing for his having been "out of touch." NO, NO, NO. You haven't been out of touch. I'VE BEEN OUT OF TOUCH. ON PURPOSE.

I guess if he doesn't get the message this time, I'll go ahead and email him back and tell him just exactly why HE is being ignored. Gah.

In other news, my rat problem seems to be over. Mama Rat finally succumbed to the whopping amount of rat poison I put out for her under the house. (And boy, oh boy, did I hate having to resort to that. But she wouldn't go in the live trap. Damn it.) She had the decency to die out in the yard, and not under the house or heating unit where she's been hiding. I thought that was very considerate. I apologized profusely to her, told her I hoped she had a good, long life, that the poison was at least tasty, and that the end wasn't too painful. Then I buried her in the backyard near the spot where I buried my last pet rats.

I know, I'm a schmuck with a bleeding heart. But she can't help being a rat--it's what God made her to be, and she was only doing what she was designed to do. I hate having to punish a creature for that. (Except I'm a total hypocrite sometimes, because I immediately went inside and swatted the hell out of an enormous horse fly. But those things BITE.)

Bachelor #5 has heard every installment of the rat saga, by the way, and did not once tell me I'm an idiot...and he still wants to come see me. He gets major points for that, believe me.

And counting...

2010-05-05T14:53:00.002-06:00

Let's catch you up quickly on bachelors #5 and #6.

Number #5 and I have talked on the phone pretty regularly this week. I don't know what he'll be like in person, but he is great fun on the phone. I will probably fall madly in love with him, as he not only lives in a different TOWN, but also a different STATE. (But just barely--he's a little over an hour away.) I will fall for the one farthest away, right? That's a given? We have tentative plans to meet on Saturday evening. I'll keep you posted.

Number #6 is not quite so delightful over the phone, but there were some things I found interesting about him, so I agreed to get together with him last weekend. I was supposed to call him when I was done with my rehearsal Sunday afternoon, and we were to go to dinner around 7:00. I called him at 5:48. I called him at 7:02. He finally called back at 8:00--I was on the phone with someone else and didn't return the call. According to his voice mail, he "fell asleep," was "so sorry," and I should feel free to call him back about 9:00. I did not. Aside from standing me up, he had also sent an email earlier that day making a "joke" re: wondering how I was "in the sack," and then immediately following it with "oh, it's probably too soon for that, sorry." Um, dude...a) yes, it is too soon for that, and b) this is an email; you can take back the things you mistakenly "blurt out" with a little simple backspacing or the delete button. So I really hadn't planned to call him back.

Yesterday I found an email in my junk box from his work email address, apologizing for having not been in touch. He hasn't been feeling well, and promises we'll "get together soon." Argh! I was ignoring YOU, dude, you weren't ignoring ME. That's a very important distinction! I am the Ignorer!

Aside from that, I've been dealing with an infestation of rats under my house and in my garage. Aren't you jealous? Don't you wish you had live-trapped and released 8-9 (I lost track) baby rats over the last few days? I know you do.

Between work, rehearsal, four-legged rats, a two-legged rat, and a delightful man in another state, I've been busy. And I am EXHAUSTED. Wish I could take a nap. I have this Friday afternoon off, but there can be no napping. I've got a lawn to mow, and 28 tomato seedlings to get into the ground at a friend's new community garden. No rest for the weary this week.

What's wrong with the men around here?

2010-04-28T13:21:00.003-06:00

Seriously. Where are the good ones I'm assured are out there?

Since we last updated...

There was a second date with NG2.0. We went out for dinner Saturday night, then watched a movie at his house. Had a pretty good time, thought "if we're ever going to figure out if there's something here we need more than one date a month." Suggested bringing dessert to his house Monday night after our mutual rehearsals. He thought that sounded nice. Then my rehearsal was canceled, so I told him to just call me when he was on his way home. Which he did. I said I'd stop for some ice cream and be right there. (We live about five minutes apart.) When I got there, I stood outside knocking and ringing the bell for a couple of minutes, called him on his cell--busy, called him on his landline, he answered, said he was in his office and didn't hear me knocking, "be right there." About five minutes later, he finally opened the door, talking on his cell phone. Gestured me inside, never stopped talking. I put the dessert makings on the counter, he grabbed a couple of bowls, mouthed "are those big enough?" and when I nodded, wandered off to his den and sprawled on the couch. Talking on his cell the whole time. Did NOT gesture for me to join him, or act particularly glad to see me, so I just stayed in the kitchen. Finally, after more than 15 minutes (yes, I was watching my watch, and yes, I was about to walk out the door), I heard him hang up. Then: "Hello? HELLO?" I thought he was making another phone call, so it took me a moment to respond with "are you talking to ME?" I went into the den, and he was all "what were you doing in there?" "Waiting for you to finish your chat, what else?" "I thought you were fixing the ice cream." GAH. I fixed the ice cream, we ate it, and then within about 10 minutes he was nodding off on the couch. I couldn't blame him for that; it was getting late, so I gently prodded him awake and told him I was going home. He apologized for falling asleep, and I just wanted to scream--"that's not what you should be apologizing for, you jerk!"

But I didn't. I nicely said good-night, then sent him an email the next morning, explaining that I had found his behavior a bit rude, and just wanted to say that so I didn't keep it in and get all resentful. So far...no response. At all.

Am I out of line here? When a guy's been telling you for a month that he can't get you out of his head, shouldn't the least expectation be that when you show up at his house bearing ice cream and cake, he puts down the goddamn cell phone?

Argh.

What else? I hadn't had any interaction at all recently with Bachelor #3, who is a Facebook friend, so just for the heck of it, I put a succinct "howdy" on his wall, and he responded right away with "howdy back-I owe you a phone call!" Damn straight you do. So frustrating--he made it a point to tell me (more than once) what a great time he had with me...then I don't hear from him. It makes me want to scream: "What, such a great time that you can't possibly risk doing it again? Afraid you'll die from too much enjoyment?"

Argh.

I went ahead and gave my phone number to a Bachelor #5, who sounds very funny and cool...but who lives about an hour away. Figures, right?

Sing it with me if you know the words...argh.

Updated to add: wouldn't you know it...while I was typing this post, NG2.0 was sending me an email. Says he genuinely thought I was in the kitchen preparing the dessert, and that's why he continued his conversation. Okay, I'll buy that. He also says that he doesn't feel we're really a good fit as a couple, though he thinks we could be good friends. Actually...I'll buy that, too. Moving on!

No news is no news.

2010-04-22T15:41:00.003-06:00

No further word from the preferred bachelor, #3. Damn him.

I get little emails all the time from "New Guy 2.0." We haven't managed to find a time to go out again, but I figure I should give him a chance. He at least cares enough to forward jokes, and tell me he's thinking about me. And, truthfully, if our next date doesn't come immediately after a weekend reunion with an old friend with whom I truly do "click," maybe it won't pale so in comparison. (I may have left that part out. I had a great time with a guy I hadn't seen in 15 years, and then met NG2.0 the very next night. It may have colored my judgment.)

I'm told I should have shared more of the details of the date with Bachelor #2, the possibly Asperger's guy, so here are a couple.

Imagine his responses in something of a monotone, with not much blinking.

We're talking about pets. Me: "Do you have any pets?" Him: "I have stuffed animals."

He was a little late for for our date. (He lives in a adjacent suburb.) Him: "I'm not sure why I was late--I allotted 42 minutes."

See what I mean?

I got a message yesterday from a guy on one of the dating sites, insisting that he found my profile "fascinating" and simply must get to know me. I replied with a form of my now-usual go-to question: do you think Sarah Palin would be an excellent choice for leader of the free world? (Apologizing for my abruptness, but explaining I don't like to waste time with someone I feel certain won't truly "get" me. Life's too short, right?) Not only did he not answer, but both his original email and my response have completely disappeared from my inbox. It's like he never existed. Maybe I made him up. Heh.

Then there was this guy from yet another site who popped up in my daily "quiver." You are presented with three guys, asked to rate them, and if you rate them highly, they'll notify the guy. The guy seemed really interesting. He was in his late 30s, so...a little younger than me, but pretty much the same age as Hot Med, and I gave him a good rating.

Today he was still in my "quiver," and I noticed his "about me" paragraph has changed a bit. He added a bit to "clarify" that, though he is in his late 30s, he looks much younger, and really isn't looking for anyone older than mid 20s - mid 30s. Harsh! I didn't even send him a message--just clicked the "4 stars" button. Calm down, dude. The cougars aren't coming for you.

I will not call Hot Med because I'm bored...I will not call Hot Med because I'm bored...I will not call Hot Med because I'm bored...

Meh.

2010-04-12T09:59:00.002-06:00

As in, Friday night's date was meh.

Oh, he was perfectly pleasant. No real awkwardness, but no real "click," either, I didn't think, on either of our parts. Probably for the best. His work schedule is an absolute killer, and he can't turn down any overtime because he's paying his ex-wife some absolutely insane alimony/child support. (Seriously, dude needs a better lawyer, 'cause...yowza.) He did do one thing that bothered me--as we were leaving he made a lame "joke" along the lines of "and YOU can pay next time." Okay, here's the thing, dude. The check came while I was in the bathroom, and you sent your credit card off with the waitress before I even came back to the table. If you wanted to go dutch, you should not have been so quick on the trigger. I shot back with "I have absolutely no problem with paying, for the record." Maybe he really was just joking, 'cause we'd had the prior discussion about alimony, etc., but...no fair. You didn't even give me a chance to split the bill, so you can't give me shit about it afterward.

So, I think we can cross #4 off the list, along with #2. I'm still really wishing #3 would wise up and realize I'm perfect for him and schedule a second date already, but so far...no such luck. I do hear from New Guy 2.0 (I call him that because they share a first name, a profession, an ethnicity, a tendency to talk about my pretty eyes--heh) from time to time, but so far his crazy schedule has precluded another face-to-face. I'm not sure if I see anything serious happening there, but I would be happy to give it another shot before I write him off.

I am very happy so far with my new car, so that's something, right? And the weather here is absolutely gorgeous.

Now, if I could only figure out why there's a slightly "off" odor coming out of my house's central air vents, life would be all good, eh?

And the dates keep coming.

2010-04-08T09:24:00.002-06:00

A Friday night date with Bachelor #4 has now been scheduled.

No additional date with the preferred of last weekend's dates has been scheduled yet, though there has been some brief additional contact. He's busy for the next few days, but insists he "had a great time the other night, just so you know." (Direct quote.) Argh.

Maybe #4 will sweep me off my feet. The chances for that are probably increased, owing to the fact that he works really long hours and lives in a neighboring town several miles away. The guys RIGHT DOWN THE STREET never work out, right? Argh again.

I guess I feel the need to share this info somewhere, and I can't really allude to it on my "Bacefook" page, as Mr. Preferred is a "friend" there. Maybe semi-anonymous blogs do serve a purpose. Heh.

BTW, I told #4 last night that he was not really obligated to laugh at every single thing that comes out of my mouth. He insisted that he found me hilarious. And then mucked that up by saying I reminded him of a co-worker...who annoys the hell out of him, "in a good way." My response: "I don't even know what to make of that." 'Cause I don't. WTF?

Should be an interesting evening.

In other news, I bought a new (used) car. And part of me really wants to go show it to Hot Med, who was always needling me to get a car with better A/C and a working stereo. And then drive away without him in it. I should probably resist that impulse, don't you think? (Assuming he's still in the country. I actually don't know--maybe he freaked out again and headed back to Beirut.)

I'm not dead.

2010-04-06T14:18:00.002-06:00

In case you were wondering. Just had the blog-blahs, I guess. That, and not much was happening that I felt compelled to blog about.

So, let's see...when we last saw our heroine she was bemoaning the possibility of a white Christmas. How'd that work out for her?

We got a blizzard on Christmas Eve. No hyperbole here, an honest-to-God blizzard. So, Christmas was effectively canceled for those of us who live alone. No Christmas Eve service, no singing of Christmas carols, no Christmas dinner with family or friends, no opening of gifts...it sucked. Moving on...

New Year's was better. Though the Eve itself wasn't great, as my out-of-town friends were a bit delayed in arriving. So we blew off our evening plans and started in with the fun on New Year's Day instead. All was well.

I actually had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day, for the first time in a long time. It was...not so exciting as one might hope. Moving on...

Let's see...started rehearsals for a play in January. The same play I started rehearsals for the previous January. (Longtime readers may remember that it was postponed, due to the new theater building not being ready.) This time there were a few more bumps in the road (cast member broke her ankle, was replaced, replacement tore her rotator cuff, did the show anyway like the trouper she is, we got another freak snowstorm on the first weekend of Spring and lost a sizable chunk of our audience to fear of driving in snow), but we did the show in March and it was great. Much, much fun. I got to yell and throw things, which was great fun, neither being things I do in real life. (I particularly don't throw books and plants--heaven forbid!)

Auditioned for another play, currently in rehearsals, goes up in May. I only have a small part, but I get a musical number--and that's always good. This is a relatively new theatre company, and it's always good to expand your theatrical horizons, right?

Somewhere in there, Hot Med and I started drifting apart. He was working all nights, I work all days...he did his weird "I'm either depressed or bored or homesick, therefore I will stop returning your calls" thing again, and this time I was not compelled to go track him down, let him make a lame excuse about a broken/lost phone, and get back on with things, so...it's done. He needs to do a little growing up. We made it 11 months, almost to the day, and that's really longer than I would have predicted, so...moving on.

I've been "communicating" with a variety of men from different dating websites, and have actually been on dates with three of them. One I liked okay, but he's super-busy and reminds me a lot of old New Guy, and I haven't really decided whether to continue things or not. I had two dates in one day this past weekend (I know!), and found the first of them a little...odd. Nice enough guy, but not much of a sense of humor, and he took everything I said a bit too literally. Maybe a hint of Asperger's? I don't know. The second one I like a LOT, but I'm not sure he's quite so crazy about me. We had a great time, laughing, talking, finishing each other's sentences, he walked me inside, hugged and kissed me good-night (on the lips, no tongue), we both said enthusiastic "let's do this again" things...then the next time I talked to him, he said similar things, but with some qualifiers. You know..."MAYBE we can do it again, SOME TIME, POSSIBLY." Emphasis mine, but...I can read between the lines. (And, in all honesty, I must admit, I used some of those same phrases when parting with the possibly Asperger's guy. Of course, I didn't mix my signals with a hug or a kiss. Ahem.) So...I would be thrilled if we actually see each other again, but I'm not holding my breath. Then last night I had a fairly lengthy phone conversation with yet another guy, and this one laughed riotously at nearly everything I said. I think he was a little nervous--I mean, I'm funny, but I'm not THAT funny--but all in all, it was a pleasant conversation, and I think I wouldn't mind meeting him for a drink. I think it's important to keep busy, on the social life front, so I'm not tempted to call up the swarthy boy, you know? Heh.

Other than that, life's just been keeping on keeping on. I may be buying a new car soon--by which I merely mean less than 15 years old--because my old car needs some front end work, and I think I might have reached my limit on how much more I want to spend on it. We'll see how that goes.

Now, you're all caught up. Wasn't that worth waiting for?

I'm dreaming of a brown Christmas...

2009-12-23T10:01:00.002-06:00

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!

2009-12-18T22:37:00.003-06:00

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?

2009-11-30T15:56:00.003-06:00

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

2009-11-18T13:40:00.002-06:00

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

2009-11-09T13:59:00.002-06:00

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...

2009-11-01T08:14:00.004-06:00

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.

2009-10-27T09:47:00.003-06:00

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.

2009-10-19T13:48:00.002-06:00

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

2009-10-13T14:17:00.002-06:00

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

2009-10-11T15:46:00.002-06:00

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

2009-10-05T13:34:00.003-06:00

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

2009-09-18T12:25:00.002-06:00

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.

2009-09-08T08:45:00.002-06:00

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!

2009-09-04T13:11:00.002-06:00

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."

2009-09-02T14:53:00.002-06:00

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.

2009-09-01T09:31:00.002-06:00

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.

2009-08-07T12:52:00.002-06:00

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?

2009-07-30T13:17:00.002-06:00

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.

2009-07-13T07:27:00.002-06:00

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?

2009-06-29T13:37:00.006-06:00

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.

2009-06-25T13:14:00.002-06:00

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.

2009-06-14T06:58:00.002-06:00

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.

2009-06-05T08:09:00.003-06:00

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.

2009-05-28T08:06:00.002-06:00

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...

2009-05-22T14:15:00.002-06:00

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.

2009-05-19T10:10:00.002-06:00

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."

2009-05-15T08:23:00.003-06:00

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

2009-05-11T10:35:00.002-06:00

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.

2009-05-05T09:04:00.002-06:00

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...

2009-05-01T10:14:00.002-06:00

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

2009-04-28T07:58:00.002-06:00

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.

Pros and Cons

2009-04-23T08:17:00.002-06:00

I'm sure you're all wondering how it went with Hot Med last weekend, so I'll tell you.

I actually ended up seeing him both Saturday and Sunday nights, so clearly it wasn't too painful, right? Hee.

Saturday night he made me spaghetti at his house, then we watched TV and became frustrated at the lack of privacy at his place. His sister and nephew were there--they're lovely people, but the apartment is really just too small for them all, plus they go to bed really early, in the living room, and then it just gets kind of awkward. So I didn't stay too late. Which made Hot Med sad, so I said I'd probably see him the next day.

Sunday afternoon I went to a birthday party, and then picked him up and brought him back to my place. We'd both already eaten, so there was no kitchen struggle. Heh. I made him watch the Amazing Race with me (which he seemed to enjoy--lots of action), and then...well...I did mention that I am physically attracted to him, right? (Which is sort of a welcome relief, after all the "nice guy no sparks" dates.) And he keeps telling me how beautiful I am? I'm only human, people!

So, anyway, it was a pleasant evening. I haven't seen him since, as I've been busy with lawn-mowing, Fridiron rehearsal, etc. Which I explained to him would be the case, and I think he understood. I'm assuming we'll probably get together tomorrow night or Saturday (or both), then I'm tied up with the show the next several days.

I'll admit that he seems to be growing on me in some ways...but I still really can't see this being a longterm thing. He doesn't seem particularly motivated to get back into ESL classes ("you teach me"--um, no), and I just don't think there will be the intellectual stimulation I will need as the new wears off, so to speak.

Here are the pros and cons, as I see them:

Pro:

he thinks I'm beautiful
he tells me so repeatedly
he is gentlemanly
he likes to cook for me
I find him attractive
he has a nice family

Con:

we can't carry on a conversation
he's not particularly intellectually curious, it seems
he doesn't drive, has no car, and doesn't live particularly close to me
he can be a bit controlling
he had the nerve to suggest I go to the gym with him--while his hand was resting on my belly (he's lucky he didn't pull back a bloody stump--to his credit, he did immediately apologize and tell me again how beautiful I am)

So, I'm kind of being a guy, I guess. Heh. You know, continuing to see someone with whom I don't really see a future, because it's fun for the time being. No harm, no foul, right? I've been very clear with him that I am only interested in dating at this point--no "boyfriend," no "marry." (He did actually ask me my "intentions," so to speak...in the form of a multiple choice question, those being the three possible answers.) My conscience is really clear on that point...and yet I still feel a little bad. Damned liberal white guilt! Why can't I just enjoy myself and not feel like I'm leading him on? He's a grownup, I've been honest with him--if he wants to continue seeing me under these conditions, I have no reason to feel guilty, right? After all, I willingly kept seeing Mr. Short Term for a while, in a similar situation, and I bear him no ill will.

So, that's where it stands. I'm just planning to let it play out for a bit, and see how I feel as it goes.

What would YOU do?

My so-called life

2009-04-17T09:16:00.003-06:00

Okay, I'll catch you up.

When last we knew, our heroine was getting ready to go out on another date with Hot Mediterranean. What happens next?!

Hee.

The date was fine, actually. He made tabouli again. It was delicious. I enjoy watching him squeeze lemons. (That's not nearly so dirty as it might sound.) We watched TV a bit, and then his sister and nephew were dropped off (after a trip to the gym) by his brother. I like his brother. (Why can't HE be single? Heh.) We talked about theatre and art for a bit. He asked me if I knew anyone who might be willing to tutor Hot Med in ESL, as the only class they'd been able to find wasn't a good fit, geographically and logistically. (I happen to know an ESL teacher, so that info has since been forwarded to Hot Med.) Hot Bro started to say that Hot Med hadn't had the educational opportunities he and the other siblings had...then he laughed and corrected himself. "The truth is, we couldn't get him off the beach. All he ever wanted to do was hang out at the beach, swim, fish, work out and chase women." Well...that explains a lot. Heh. I suppose if I had grown up on the Mediterranean, close to Greece, with those beautiful, beautiful waters...I might have been a beach bum, too. (Okay, probably not...but I understand the appeal.)

I didn't stay too late, but promised to get in touch later in the week to plan another evening.

I still don't know that I see this going anywhere...but he does have a certain charm, and it is quite nice to be told how beautiful you are...constantly. And I think he means it, too...I don't think he's just trying to get into my pants. Not that he's NOT trying to get into my pants, of course. He's a guy. But he's a guy who very much wants a steady girlfriend/possible fiancee/wife prospect, and, since I don't want to lead him on in any way, I'm kind of keeping him at arm's length in the...gettin' busy department. He seems okay with that for now...

Okay...I had a half-day coming to me at work, and decided to take it Thursday. So I emailed Hot Med to see if he wanted to go to dinner that night. I didn't hear back via email, so I finally called yesterday afternoon to see where we stood, and he apparently thought the date was already a done deal, and was expecting me to be at his place that evening. (This communication difficulty frustrates the heck out of me, I don't mind saying.) Alrighty then.

We had some salad at his place, took a walk along the river, sat on a bench for a while and talked...okay, HE talked. I figured he needed the practice, so I just let him go. He told me he never wants to live in Lebanon again, that he didn't like New Mexico (where he lived when he first came to the U.S.) because there's not enough water (I can dig it), that he had a girlfriend there who cried when he left, but that he didn't like her as much as he likes ME...it went on for a while. He would like to visit his sister in Germany and his brother in London. Apparently, only his mother still lives in Lebanon. (I've started correcting his pronoun usage now, by the way, when he makes mistakes. He confuses he/she a lot. Let's get a jump on that ESL.) At one point his phone rang, he had a short conversation in English, and when he hung up he told me it was from a "crazy girl" he works with, who wants to go out with him. She's too young for his taste, though. 27. He likes 'em older. (Clearly.)

We left the river and went to my favorite restaurant (which happens to be just down the street from his apartment), home of the world-famous "crack" noodles, and I made him try some Asian food, with which he seemed completely unfamiliar. He really like the fresh spring rolls, though--"Beautiful!"

Then I suggested that we stop in at a bar on the way back to his place, as some friends of mine were playing there that night, and I was curious to see what he'd think of "my" kind of music.

Here's where the red flags of the evening were displayed. He greeted everyone warmly, but didn't seem to care for me greeting my male friends as warmly, and kept asking if any of them were my "boyfriends. or "ex-boyfriends." Answer? No. Though, in all honesty, if...well, if Mr. "If He Were to Ever Actually Leave His Completely Mismatched Wife Who's Been Making Him Miserable for Years" were to ever actually leave his wife...I'd probably be first in line to help him pick up the pieces. Heh. But, Hot Med doesn't know that, and the point is, I can't handle someone who can't handle the fact that I have friends who happen to be guys, as I happen to have a lot of them. He did stop asking the questions, but then started making a concerted effort to hold my hands and gaze into my eyes a bit more...obviously. Gah. Spare me the macho posturing, please.

He nursed a beer (he doesn't drink much), and I had a couple, and then...remember the soup ladle incident? Well, he kind of went to that controlling place again. As I finished my second beer, he grabbed the bottle from me and said "no more, you're driving." EXCUSE ME? That is not for you to decide, Mister! I tried to make myself take Sauntering Soul's advice to heart and believe that it was coming from a place of caring and concern, but...I couldn't quite get there. It's quite all right for him to express concern, but to literally take the bottle from my hand and say "no more?" I'm a grownup, and that's out of line. Which I told him. (And, by the way, two beers? Barely even tips the "buzz" scale for me. I'm a big girl; I can handle a few beers.)

At this point, he was yawning, and since I could tell he wasn't really enjoying the music (it's very lyrics-driven, and I don't think he was getting it at all), and I knew he had to be up very early, I suggested that I go ahead and take him home. Of course, I had every intention of returning and listening to more music, drinking more beer AND eliciting some follow-up details to "Mr. If He Were, Etc.'s" answer of "oh, you don't even want to know" in response to my "I haven't seen you in a while; how's it going" question from earlier in the evening. (Maybe he's left his wife!) I told Hot Med I planned to come back and listen to more music, and while he clearly wasn't crazy about that, he was fairly gracious about it. "Okay, no problem, but please be careful, baby." I told "Mr. If He Were to Ever" to save me a seat, as I would be right back, and deposited Hot Med down the street at his house, with a promise to call soon about the weekend.

So, then I went back to the bar, sat down to "Mr. If He...", oh heck...let's just call him Lyle. (That's not his name, but I just glanced at the poster of Lyle Lovett above my desk, so...Lyle it is.) Anyway, I sat down, and ordered another beer, saying, jokingly, as I lifted it to my lips, "I hope YOU'RE not going to forbid me to drink and drive." [Edited to take out details about Lyle, just in case anyone who knows him reads this. Doubtful, but possible, I suppose.] (He has NOT left his wife.)

Anyway, I spent the rest of the evening drinking beer (yes, I drank more, thankyouverymuch, and was just fine to drive), listening to good music and enjoying an extended conversation with Lyle, with whom I've always felt an intellectual connection.

And being frustrated. Why, oh WHY, can't I find a guy who is: a) available and ready for a relationship, b) crazy attracted to me, AND c) smart, funny and "gets" me?

So, that's where things stand. Hot Med's going to make me spaghetti this weekend, and...we'll see how things go.

Weekend update

2009-04-13T12:54:00.003-06:00

But first...enormous hugs, thoughts, prayers for healing to gorillabuns and her family. I can't even begin to imagine the pain she's feeling right now. Please send your own thoughts and prayers her way, as well.

And now, a quick rundown of my weekend:

Friday afternoon, I did manage to meet Mr. Not Quite Divorced for lunch, despite my boss having a panic attack/meltdown which required me to give up much of what should have been an entire afternoon off to help him sort things out.

And how was it? Well, it was fine. I know...you were hoping for fireworks. Me, too. But what I got was an enjoyable lunch with a nice guy. Physically, no overwhelming sparks. But no "never in a million years" reaction, either. He greeted me with a somewhat awkward handshake (keep in mind that this guy married the first girl he went out with, 20 years ago, so he has no recent actual dating experience). He is really pretty much as he described himself--nerdy and near-sighted. Hee. We ate, we chatted, we had to cut it kind of short because a) the restaurant was closing, and b) I had to get back to my frantic boss. We did stand in the parking lot chatting for a bit. No hug at that point, either, though I suppose I could have initiated one, and we left on a "we'll have to do this again sometime" note. And...that's it. We're back to our regularly scheduled emailing, and I have no idea if he has any aspirations to anything more.

Friday night, church.

Saturday morning, house cleaning.

Saturday afternoon, cat lady lunch, followed by a stop at a local herb festival, where I bought four, count 'em, four different kinds of basil plants. And some tomatoes. I got the basil into planters--the poor tomatoes are still waiting.

Saturday evening, Mensa meeting, with an interesting presentation this month by a woman who worked for JPL for 30 years, and was project manager for the first Mars rover landing. She insisted that the rover have the name of a female hero--hence, "Sojourner Truth." Looking at her, I would never have guessed that she was responsible for anything so exciting...she looked more like a retired gym teacher, in khaki pants and a sweatshirt. Heh.

Sunday morning, two, count 'em...two church services. I sang with the praise band led by a friend of mine at an early morning service, then went to my own church for the regular service, then went home and and snuggled on the couch under a blanket for the rest of the rainy, cold afternoon.

At some point in the weekend, I returned one of Hot Med's several calls. (He never leaves a voice mail, so I don't feel that bad about not returning the calls more promptly.) He wanted me to come over for dinner on Sunday, but I was too tired. I did agree to go to his place for dinner tonight. I believe we're having tabouli again. He offered to make something different, but I couldn't trust that he's really grasped the vegetarian thing, so I thought tabouli was a safer choice.

So, am I looking forward to seeing him? Well, yeah....to some extent. It's hard not to like being told repeatedly how beautiful you are. Heh. And I can watch his arms as he chops the tabouli vegetables. Double heh. But then we'll run out of things to say, and he'll be content to sit there holding my hand, but I won't, and...I think I need to make a decision fairly soon regarding continuing the "relationship" or not. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I don't want to lead him on, and I don't want him making any assumptions about where this might be leading.

In other news, I logged in at "flentyofpish" today, for the first time in quite a while, to check out some guy who had "favorited" me (and he looks kind of cool--I favorited him back, though neither of us sent an actual message), and mere moments later I had a message from Insane Guy. "I've missed you." Yowza. I did not respond.

No real contact from Mr. Short Term, by the way...except for email forwards and facebook interactions. I'm sure if I actually gave in and called him, he'd be happy to see me. Not gonna do it, though. "Nuh guh duh," in the words of Dana Carvey's President Bush. Hee.

No news is...no news.

2009-04-09T12:44:00.002-06:00

Nothing interesting to report here.

I haven't seen or talked to Hot Med this week--I wasn't kidding when I told him I wouldn't have time to see him this week. He hasn't attempted to contact me. I'm hoping that means he actually understood what I was attempting to convey. Heh. I'm still undecided about continuing to see him. I haven't really thought about him much this week--that's probably not a good sign. We'll see, I guess.

My lunch date with the pen pal is tomorrow. I'm very much looking forward to it--but I'm not really nervous about it. I guess we've communicated at enough length at this point that I'm pretty sure we'll get along fine. Whether there is any chemistry beyond friendship is anybody's guess, but I suppose we'll find that out tomorrow.

Other than that, it's a rehearsal and churchgoing kind of week. A busy weekend coming up, too...aside from Easter, it's Cat Lady Lunch Day and the monthly Mensa meeting. And at some point I've got to mow my lawn. Spring has sprung to that extent, at least.

I'll let you know how lunch goes. Ironically, we're meeting for Lebanese food. Hee.

"Put down the ladle and back away from the sink."

2009-04-06T10:21:00.002-06:00

My goodness, I don't even know where to start.

I did not meet the McCain Supporter for drinks on Friday night. I was way tired after a trip to the grocery and liquor stores, and just wanted to crash on the couch.

I got a couple of calls from Hot Med while running those errands, which I waited to return until I was home. "Where are you?" Dude, you said SATURDAY. Today is FRIDAY. "So you not come tonight?" No, I'm not coming tonight. I will be there tomorrow, okay? "Okay, no problem."

So, I did have the tabouli date on Saturday night, and reciprocated by making soup for him at my place on Sunday. So...how did it all go?

Let's talk good things first, I think.

He was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt, and I have to say...man's got some nice arms. And shoulders. Later in the weekend he pulled his shirt up (we were talking about his body-building) to show me the "8 beers in his belly" (thanks, Sauntering Soul's Hot Brazilian--I love that) and...yeah, the guy's in good shape.

He makes a mean tabouli. I had never had it as the main dish, nor had I eaten it scooped into lettuce leaves instead of using utensils. I would recommend both, though. He's perhaps an even bigger OCD freak about the kitchen than I am. He washed the cutting board between every vegetable and was constantly wiping and cleaning and washing his hands. (Well, he does work in a restaurant--I suppose that's good policy.)

He's very chivalrous--always insisting on opening doors and helping me out of the car, etc. He asked permission before taking my hand on our walk in the Riverparks, and before giving me a short neck massage at my house. Now, I suppose the jury is out on whether that is his natural tendency, or if he's been given a smackdown for being too presumptuous in the past, but still...he was polite.

He gets a big smile on his face every time he looks at me. It's hard not to like that. He tells me repeatedly how beautiful I am. Ditto on that.

He was pretty good about letting my cats (those that deigned to be visible, of course) sit on his lap while we watched TV.

Okay, it's all sounding good, you're thinking. Well...it wasn't ALL good. Let's have a little lesson in how NOT to court me, 'mkay?

Lesson #1: Do NOT under any circumstance mention marriage to me on the second date. I will not think, "wow--this guy really likes me!" I will think, "wow, this guy really wants a wife." Big difference. Particularly do not mention that you would like to take this wife-to-be to Lebanon to meet your mother in the near future. That is way too much too soon. Even after my week-long first date with New Guy, I think I would have been a little freaked out by that. (Or not. Damn you, New Guy! Sigh.) I told him I was not interested in marriage to ANYONE any time soon, and he didn't mention it outright again.

Now, I think it was coincidental that his brother and sister-in-law were at his house when I arrived to pick him up Sunday evening to take him to my house for soup. I think they were there to visit his sister and nephew. (They had brought a basket of hand-decorated Easter eggs.) I hope that is the case, at any rate. 'Cause it was just a bit of an inquisition, and I would hate to think that was set up deliberately. Now, don't get me wrong--they were lovely people. His brother is a contractor, speaks perfect English, his sister-in-law is American, and we all had a lovely chat about theatre, dance, etc. But I would not like to think that I was being deliberately screened for suitability on a third date. Heh. (They were very enthusiastic about coming to see me in a show...which is nice, but leads me to believe they have premature assumptions about where this relationship is going.)

Lesson #2: You will not curry favor with me if you repeatedly suggest that I put my dog outside. Now, I am the first to admit that Pudge is a very large, very clingy, sometimes anxious dog. He bounced from the animal shelter through a couple of foster homes before he ended up with me, and he is...well, needy. He's used to having me to himself, and it takes him a few minutes to get used to the presence of a stranger in the house. He's not aggressive at all, mind you...he mostly sits near me anxiously and keeps his eye on the "intruder" for a while. There will, of course, be some sniffing of the shoes, tail-wagging, etc.--he's a DOG. But if you speak nicely to him, and then sit quietly for a bit, he will relax fairly quickly. The very worst thing to do would be to put him outside by himself. So, if you continue to suggest that I put him outside, you are liable to be shut down with a curt "it's his house, too." Pudge did calm down, and I did put him in the bedroom for a while as we actually ate (see, I can compromise), but...dude. Ask once, then let it go.

Lesson #3: Okay, it's a relatively well-known fact that I am a bit...anal and OCDish about my kitchen. But only MY kitchen. I have no compulsion to wash dishes at anyone else's house. I get a little thrill, actually, when I leave a dirty plate or glass in or near a sink and walk away. It's like a tiny vacation from the compulsion. Heh. Apparently, however, HIS compulsion knows no such bounds. He kept trying to "help." Okay...I'm happy that he knows his way around a kitchen, but this is MY kitchen, and it's TINY; there's barely room for me, and you are IN MY WAY. Please go sit down! He wouldn't, though. It's all very well and good to offer to help when you are a guest in someone's home, but if they decline your offer, take them at your word and leave them alone, for cryin' out loud. I do not need someone taking a soup ladle out of my hand and attempting to wash it. He's lucky that soup ladle was not wielded as a weapon, is what I'm saying.

Tangentially, I also do not need to be told repeatedly that the soup is hot, and to be careful. I KNOW THE SOUP IS HOT. I JUST TOOK IT OFF THE STOVE. I AM 46 YEARS OLD AND I HAVE EATEN HOT SOUP BEFORE. I get tired of that constant admonition even in restaurants, where they're presumably worried about liability--I do not need or want it in my home. Thankyouverymuch.

I told him, and I think he understood, that I am very busy this week, and I won't be able to see him at all. (Rehearsals, Holy Week church services, etc.) We'll see, I suppose.

So...some issues, clearly, in addition to the ongoing communication difficulties. Here's the thing. I'm a very verbal person. Not a chatterbox, by any means, but...I like words. I'm a word nerd. And being a word nerd without access to so many of my words--well, it feels kind of stifling. And I can't be funny without words! Who am I if I'm not funny? (Okay, admittedly, maybe this says more about me than about him.) And I have no problem with the occasional companionable silence...it's nice. But there is a difference between "companionable" silence and awkward "I'm out of things to say" silence, isn't there?

He keeps telling me how much he likes me. He likes my eyes, my hair, my face. I know guys are very visually-stimulated, but...that's not really enough for me. He asks what I like about him, and I don't know what to say. I don't really know you well enough yet to know, I reply. And you don't really know me yet. I don't think that's the answer HE wants, either.

So...I don't know. I haven't made any decisions, one way or the other, but I'm not sure I have the energy for this, frankly.

In the meantime, I am very much looking forward to meeting my "pen-pal" in person. We have exchanged close to 300 emails in the last two months. Clearly, we're both very wordy people. Heh. I know, I know--being almost divorced isn't being divorced. I have no expectations--just a strong curiosity to see if the image I have in my head matches the real him at all.

It never rains but it pours.

2009-04-03T15:49:00.002-06:00

In addition to tomorrow night's tabouli-making date, I've had other offers.

The McCain Supporter--remember him? He's never really completely gone away, he pops up with an instant message now and again. He popped up this afternoon--we actually had a decent little chat, and he wants me to meet him for a glass of wine tonight. I told him I was probably going to be too tired after work. (I still think that, at this point.) Actually, he was fun to hang out with, and I think we both know there's no possibility of a real relationship, so maybe we could just be friends, but...I hesitate to walk that road again, even platonically. Still, though...nice to be so unforgettable to SOMEBODY.

AND...Mr. Not Quite Divorced, with whom I have up to half a dozen email exchanges most weekdays...wants to meet for lunch next week. I'm...a little surprised. But very much looking forward to meeting him, if only to see if we have anything left to say to each other in person. Hee. No expectations, though...he's still only almost divorced.

A decent-sounding guy contacted me through Hayoo!, but he hasn't posted a picture yet, and I have decided to be all guy-like and insist on knowing what they look like first. Go, me. Way to be shallow. Heh.

Haven't heard from Mr. Short Term in days....as I have mightily resisted the urge to remind him that I exist. Apparently I'm NOT so unforgettable to HIM.

Who needs him, anyway, right?

I'll probably keep my maiden pseudonym

2009-04-02T08:27:00.003-06:00

Okay, for all you people singing "Lizgwiz and Hot Med, sittin' in a tree..." or doodling "Mrs. Liz G. Mediterranean" in the margins of your trapper keeper...we do have another date scheduled. He's going to make tabouli for me Saturday night at his place. Said date being arranged by email, of course...that phone thing is just NOT happening.

Now, let's just hope he doesn't monkey up his tabouli with bell peppers...'cause THAT would be a deal breaker.

In other news, we had our first "Fridiron" rehearsal last night. As usual with political parody, there are way too many parts for men, and as usual in Tulsa, there are way too many women in the cast, so...at first it didn't seem to be looking good for my getting a great song. I was actually considering backing out (call me a diva, but I won't simply be a spear carrier--sorry), but apparently the director sensed that, and following a quick chat post-rehearsal (where I stopped well short of being bitchy about it, but did express my interest in a particular potentially show-stopping number), she called to say she'd give me that song if I'd stick around. Deal! I will happily carry spears the rest of the evening in exchange for portraying our controversial mayor in a song to the tune of "Rhohemian Bapsody." I suppose I'll just have to deal with the mental darts being aimed my way by the rest of the women. Hee.

His English IS better in person.

2009-03-31T08:22:00.003-06:00

Okay, I won't keep you all in suspense.

I was nervous as all heck, for whatever reason, but I sucked it up and headed off to "Barstucks" to meet Hot Mediterranean. (That would not have been my choice of venue, but I decided it wasn't worth haggling over.) He was sitting outside when I pulled up (it was a lovely day), and as I walked up, he smiled a big smile and said, "Oh my god, you are so beautiful!"

Well, can't complain about THAT.

We went inside to order. I asked for iced tea (I rarely drink coffee) and he followed suit. "You like iced tea?" Yes, I replied...I love it. I drink it all day. "Oh my god, me too. I love it." (You're going to hear this refrain a LOT.)

So, we sat and sipped our tea and made small talk. He IS easier to understand in person, thank goodness, though I'm not sure he always understood what I was saying. But that didn't keep him from saying "Oh my god, me too" a lot. Heh. For instance, at one point I mentioned that I was a vegetarian. "Oh my god, me too...I love the vegatoes." I'm pretty sure he didn't know the full connotation of "vegetarian" though, since later in the evening he offered me both chicken soup and a steak. But I'm jumping ahead.

Let's sum up what I discovered (or think I discovered--there's probably a pretty wide margin of error here): he's been in the country for about a year, though his brother has been here for years, his sister and nephew just moved here last week and are living with him in his one-bedroom apartment. He works as a cook in a restaurant, but doesn't really like it--he wants to start his own handyman business, which is what he did in Albuquerque, where he lived briefly, and presumably what he did in Lebanon. He doesn't have a car right now, so he rides the bus, and wants to move to a bigger apartment in Brookside (my old neighborhood), which is more pedestrian-friendly. He also likes beer ("oh my god, me too...I love beer"). He loves my dog ("oh my god, me..."), my cats ("omg, mt"), America in general and Tulsa in particular. He wants to make me tabouli soon. ("Oh my god, you love tabouli? I make for you. Tonight? You want?")

He's an enthusiastic guy, to be sure. He loves my hair, my boots, and the earrings I was wearing. He also loves...a general gesture in the direction of my body, with a repetition of "beautiful". Take that to mean whatever you like. And, oddly, though it reads a little sleazy, in person it came across kind of sweet.

And did I love his...general gesture in his direction? Well, he is a good-looking guy, but I have to say...he is apparently really photogenic. Good-looking in person, but not quite as hot as he came across in his pictures. Not that I'm accusing him of touching them up, or anything...he just photographs well, I think. He has a big smile, which helps...as does posing on a beautiful Mediterranean beach. Heh. He also doesn't really seem all that much younger than me, though he is, by a few years. I didn't have a "oh my god, I MUST HAVE HIM" reaction, but I definitely didn't want to run in the other direction, so...we're okay there, I think.

So, we finished up our tea, and decided to walk up the street a bit. We stopped in at a pool hall/bar and got a beer (Newcastle. I ordered first and he again said "the same."), which we drank outside on the sidewalk patio. We walked some more, then went back to my car. It was getting a bit chilly at that point.

I offered to give him a ride home, so he wouldn't have to mess with the bus, and he loved that idea, of course. I knew his sister and nephew were there, so it didn't seem particularly risky. Plus, he's not a really big guy, and I have brass knuckles, so...) I met his sister, Rima, and his 6-year-old nephew, Ali.

His sister was very friendly...she's been stuck in the apartment most of the week she's been here, and she's very bored. There's really nothing nearby to walk to, and "this apartment is not so nice." Hee. (It was a very typical off-white walls, tan carpeted, boxy south Tulsa apartment, to be sure. Not much furniture.) Her other brother had taken her to the library, and she enthusiastically showed me the books she checked out. She has a degree in Chemistry from a university in Beirut, hopes at some point to teach, and would like to get a second degree in Physics. She wanted to know if there was a demand for science teachers--well, certainly there is, but there might be quite a few certification hoops to jump through. I suggested she look into doing some private tutoring, and she liked that idea. She also wanted to know where she might acquire a kitten--in Beirut she worked with an organization that feeds homeless cats and tames kittens for adoption. My kind of girl! She asked how I would rate her English--I gave her an "A." She was very excited--turns out her older brother gave her a "C+", and her sister-in-law a "B." I said, "well, compared to your brother here..." and we all laughed.

Hot Mediterranean offered to make me something to eat, but when he began pulling things out of the cabinets/refrigerator, I realized he didn't quite understand "vegetarian." His sister did, however, and filled him in. "Oh!" I declined the food offers, we watched a little TV (he pressed the remote into my hand--guess he's not all that chauvinistic. Hee.) His sister proudly pointed out that he did all the cleaning and the cooking himself, and a couple of times chided him for not speaking English. "You need the practice." True dat.

I decided it was time to leave, which disappointed him, I know...but I wanted to stop at the grocery store and get home before the brewing thunderstorm hit. He walked me to my car, tried to get me to agree to "tabouli tomorrow night," but I made him settle for a "some time this week." As enthusiastic as he is about everything American, I can see him instantly deciding he's "in love" with an American girl, and...I'm not ready for that.

So, is there potential? Well, I don't know. He seems very sweet. He definitely liked me. But he also seems a bit...if I say "lacking in sophistication" do I come across as a pretentious snob? 'Cause I don't mean to. But he does seem a bit...simple in his tastes. If that makes sense. And not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just...not really ME. (You know...I like smart and complicated. Sometimes to my detriment, admittedly.) I am fully aware that my perceptions may be coming from his rudimentary English skills, though, and perhaps there's more to him than it seems at first glance, and certainly there are cultural differences to take into account, so...I'm not making any snap judgments. I promise. I do plan to see him again, and see how it goes.

There you have it. And that was certainly long story...long, wasn't it?

And edited to add: there was an email waiting in my inbox this morning, thanking me for the evening, so the boy's got some manners, it seems. That or his sister told him to. Hee.

Only in Oklahoma

2009-03-30T07:42:00.002-06:00

Friday we had thundertorms. Saturday we had a blizzard, complete with thunder and lightning. (Well, Tulsa only got 6-8 inches of snow, with limited visibility, but the western part of the state had it much worse.) Sunday afternoon I was sitting outside on a patio, drinking wine and basking in the sun. (58 degrees.) Today should be in the 60s, and there's barely a trace left of all that snow. Just the remnants of a few pitifully melted snowpeople.

I'm used to wacky weather, but this? This is NUTS.

Tonight I am meeting Hot Mediterranean for coffee. A date arranged completely via email. He did try to call once, but I missed the call, and couldn't bring myself to return it. I am hoping that, in person, with the benefit of facial expressions and body language, that we will be able to at least communicate a little bit. I mean...I dated a man with severe aphasia for several months, surely I can at least get through coffee with this guy. Right? RIGHT?

Maybe there will at least be some good blog fodder. I'm doing it all for you, folks. You're welcome.

Hot Mediterranean?

2009-03-27T09:07:00.002-06:00

This week has been kind of boring. Hence the lack of posts, I suppose. But it might be getting interesting! I'll explain.

A few days ago I broke my own rule and actually paid for a month of "catch.mom," lured in by the dangling of a "you have new email" message. I SWORE I would never do that again, but I did. And, of course, it was from a guy in Wisconsin whose profile was excellently written, but whose ensuing emails were, shall we say, NOT. When I expressed my indifference to long-distance relationships he insisted that he might be moving to Tulsa. When I asked him why he might be doing that, he disappeared. As I figured. Ah well, no harm, no foul, right? Well...$34.95 foul, but whatever. I left my profile as it was, but didn't do any searching of my own.

Then, a couple of days ago, I got another email. This one from a very good-looking guy who grew up "on the Mediterranean" not far from Greece, who's been in the U.S. for about a year. He's 7 years younger than me and likes to work out. He admitted that his English wasn't great yet, and that his brother helped him with his profile. I couldn't figure out why a good-looking much younger gym rat would be interested in having coffee with ME, but nevertheless, I said hello in return. He further revealed that he actually grew up in Lebanon, and responded with his phone number and personal email address if I would like to call.

(Side note: I completely understand why a Middle Eastern man might want to be somewhat vague about that in his profile, in these, the post-9/11 years. I'm sure there are many people who would write him off immediately for that, sadly. And it is true that Lebanon is on the Mediterranean, near Greece. It is also true that Tulsa has a sizable Lebanese community, that I have friends of Lebanese descent, and that I love falafel! Hee.)

Now, at this point, I remembered the saga of Sauntering Soul and her Hot Brazilian. She wasn't enthusiastic about their first meeting, either, but that turned out okay, so...I decided I would call. I was a bit nervous about the possible language barrier, and it took me a couple of days to get up my nerve, but last night I gave him a call.

Oh, my. To say English is his "second language" would be generous. He is very good at saying "ok--no problem," which he said a lot in response to my oft-repeated "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch..." I think we might be having coffee on Sunday afternoon. Maybe? No mention of where, though. To the best of my knowledge. Or exactly when. It's also quite possible that we'll be running away to join the circus tonight, or are we simply going to elope to Las Vegas on Monday? I HAVE NO IDEA. I am, however, pretty sure that he has to work tomorrow.

I had thought I would email him today, tactfully express my confusion as to our plans, and let him get his brother to help him respond. But I don't know. Maybe I'll just let things sit, and if he's truly motivated, he can find a way to communicate more clearly and get back in touch. What do you think? I'm sure you have opinions. Heh.

But there were no naps.

2009-03-23T13:25:00.002-06:00

It was an action-packed weekend, for sure. Here we go.

Friday night, first a quick work-out, the fourth of the week, then dinner with Mr. Short Term, followed by MSNBC on his couch. It's not even a "real" relationship, and we're already predictable. Hee. (We were going to go for another walk, but it started raining.) He did tell me there's a possibility that he might be rearranging his work situation in a way that would allow him to travel less and actually maybe settle in somewhere. I just nodded to acknowledge I heard him, but made no commentary otherwise. I don't presume that this decision is in any way connected to wanting to spend more time with me. I will continue to presume this unless or until I have some reason to think otherwise. Seems like the wisest plan.

Saturday morning, up and at the housecleaning.

Saturday afternoon, readers' club. I went all out and took a bag of Doritos that I bought with my own two hands. Sorry, readers...there was no time for cooking. But it was a "two flavors in one bag" bag, including the tasty "Zesty Taco"--that should count for something, right? I drank some wine, gorged myself on deviled eggs and pecan bars and left very much wanting to take a nap. But there was no time.

I stopped by the liquor store to get beer for the evening's activities. And to allow the liquor store owner to properly debit my card for my last purchase. Earlier in the week, I bought some beer and they accidentally charged me $0.96 instead of $9.60. I didn't realize it until the next morning, so they told me they'd fix it the next time I came in, and thanked me very much for my honesty. I couldn't just let it slide--how guilty would I feel every time I went in there? And I LIKE this liquor store. They have a dog, and some parrots, and an aquarium, and enough plants to fill a greenhouse. I can't rip off (even accidentally) people who bring their dog to work! (He's a handsome beast, too...a huge brindled Great Dane.)

I was home long enough to feed the cats and take Pudge out, then it was off to a baby shower/party in a far south suburb. It turned out to be a smaller gathering than I was expecting...low-key and nice. A little awkwardness when it came to present opening time, though. Several small items had been purchased from the official registry list. I noticed mom-to-be's face looked a little confused a couple of times--apparently their 8-year-old daughter "helped" with the scanning of items for the list, and a few things got on there that weren't necessarily planned. They were little, inexpensive things at least, so if they aren't exactly what they wanted, it's no big deal. Thank goodness she didn't scan something big and expensive and completely inappropriate. Hee.

I asked the daughter if she was looking forward to having a little brother. "I don't like brothers." Ah, I explained, but you have a very BIG brother (14 years older) and this will be a very LITTLE brother, and YOU will be the boss. That seemed to cheer her up. Heh. (Yes, for those of you keeping track, that would be a 22-year-old, an 8-year-old, and soon, an infant. This nest may never be empty!) She was also very, very proud of a beautiful fluffy blue pillow she sewed for the new arrival. She's a very creative kid. She painted a beautiful floral still-life recently for her mom. I'm thinking of commissioning her for some new art. I have a few of her original works, but mostly from an earlier, more primitive phase. I'm particularly fond of a rainbow made with Fruit Loops, hanging under fluffy cotton ball clouds. She's way past that now, of course.

Sunday morning, church. You know how they say a smile is contagious? And I always think "they" need to shut up and stop telling me to smile? Well, maybe "they" ARE right. There was a family visiting church, and their oldest son had the most radiant smile I have ever seen. He was apparently developmentally disabled in some way, but he was just so happy to be there. Everything he looked at made him smile. And every time HE smiled, everyone else smiled. We should all be "disabled" like that.

After church, and post-church choir practice, I decided that I needed Indian food, so I drove south and went to my favorite Indian restaurant for the lunch buffet. My favorite sharply-dressed waiter was there--the one that always at least pretends to flirt with me. I'm sure he's just angling for bigger tips. (It worked, by the way.) Then I stopped at the Big Box Mart down the street for cat food, and made my way back north.

I couldn't stand the dead stuff and layer of leaves covering my flowerbeds one more day, so I did a first pass on cleaning those out. Much better!

Then I did my evening animal duties, sat down on the couch, and thought I might never get up again. If it was up to me, I'd still be there.

(Did I neglect to mention that I was suffering with terrible monthly cramps for at least half the weekend? And the spring pollen was making my eyes itch and my cheekbones hurt? And still I was a whirling dervish of activity? Consider it mentioned.)

So, what did YOU do this weekend?

A clumsy person's worst nightmare

2009-03-19T12:37:00.002-06:00

I am so shocked and saddened at Natasha Richardson's passing. One minute she's walking and talking...then she's in a coma, then she's brain-dead. For a person who's more than a little accident-prone, it's sobering. Man, oh man.

Rover has returned home, in the form of a little wooden box of ashes, to take his place beside his old buddy, Payday. (There are several other buddies there, too, of course...but he and Payday were always particular friends.) It always gives me a sense of closure when the cycle is complete...but it makes me sad again, too. Not that I haven't been sad every day since it happened, plus all those days when I knew it was coming, but you know what I mean. Sigh.

Two of the younger kitties are now on monthly heartworm preventative, thanks to a friend who insisted on "sponsoring" them. Say it with me now...awwwww.

The new mediterranean deli near my house has an awesome vegetarian platter. I'm just sayin'. Cabbage roll, dolmas, falafel, tabouli, hummus, tzatziki, pita bread. Yummy. I hope they stay in business.

Not a peep out of Mr. Short Term this week. I'm trying to keep myself from giving in and calling or emailing him. Damn it, he should be the one to initiate contact sometimes. Gah.

Mr. Not-Quite-Divorced, with whom I have the ongoing email "relationship," has asked several times how I'm handling my grief, did I bury or cremate, etc. SOME guys are good at that stuff, it appears...even if they've never actually MET you. Heh.

I watched the new sitcom "Better Off Ted" last night. It was quirky. I liked it. It will probably soon be cancelled. That's the way it always works.

I have a baby "shower" to attend this weekend. Actually, it's a co-ed party celebrating the impending arrival of an...unexpected bundle of joy, but there will be gifts. I have no idea what I'm giving. I usually default to books, but their older daughter is very artsy, and quite a reader; I can't imagine there's a decent children's book that doesn't already live in their house. They're registered at Target--I'll find something. I'm guessing they didn't save much in the way of baby things from the first go-round, seeing as how there was a vasectomy, and no plans for any further procreation. PSA: did you know that, given time, a vasectomy can reverse itself? It's true. Did you know that the doctor who performed the original procedure may give you a second one for free? It's true. They're a little shell-shocked, I think, but excited, too.

I've exercised two whole times this week! Aren't you proud of me? Heh.

I'm sure I had more to say, but I can't at this moment think what it was, so...Liz out.

Weekend update. Warning: some of it's sad.

2009-03-16T08:31:00.002-06:00

So...how was my weekend? Well, sit down, and I'll tell you all about it.

It was a busy weekend, fortunately. I was glad to have plenty of things going to take my mind off...other things.

Let's back up to early last week. You may remember that my cat Rover was diagnosed with heartworms a while back. Well...he'd been struggling, and struggling, and it had finally gotten to the point where I needed to think about making THE decision. So, early in the week, I called and made him an appointment for Friday afternoon, which I had off. I initially asked for a consult with the vet, with an eye to making the hard call if they concurred with my assessment. By Friday morning, it was clear no consulting was needed. He'd been retaining fluid in his abdomen for a while, and the swelling was just...out of control. He looked like he'd swallowed a soccer ball, poor baby.

Through it all, his appetite had never waned. Boy was HUNGRY, all the time. (Probably in part due to the prednisone he was taking.) And he never lost his appetite for snuggling and purring. Thursday...he stopped purring, but did eat four whole cans of Fancy Feast. (Nothing but the best at that point.) Friday morning...he stopped eating. I knew it was time.

So...he's gone. It was as sad as you would expect. At the last possible minute, though, as the sedative began to kick in, just before THE injection came...he started purring. The vet tech scritched and scratched behind his ears, and I rubbed his belly, and he purred for me one last time. I was so happy...in a devastatingly sorrowful kind of way. But I was hoping for one last purr, and I got it. Then he slipped quietly away. I'm beyond sad, of course...I'm crying now as I'm typing.

I had rehearsal scheduled for Friday night, which I thought would be a good thing. Take my mind off my sadness, and all. Our director had emailed to let us know we would be meeting at her house, as they were (finally) painting the building, and the fumes were pretty bad. Hey, I thought...they're painting. Maybe we're actually on track toward getting the building turned into a theatre! Maybe we can actually schedule this play! Umm...not so much, as it turns out. She plied us with wine, cheese, ice cream...and then broke the news that there are even FURTHER delays, and the rest of this season has been officially cancelled. We'll still do the show, but we'll do it NEXT season. November at the earliest. GAAAAHHHH! (I know, Julie, it's not your fault. It still sucks. Heh.) I think she thought we were all going to turn on her, maybe burn her at the stake, but...we just all accepted the news like the good little theatrical soldiers that we are. What else can you do?

So...I left the meeting, checked my phone, and noticed that Mr. Short Term had called. I had emailed him earlier in the day to see if he wanted to try to get together this weekend. He hadn't left a message, so I called him back. Him: "Didn't you get my message?" Me: "I didn't see a voicemail--did you leave one?" Him: "I emailed you earlier." Me: "Remember how I said I was leaving work and email access early today so you should CALL me?" Him: "Oh, well...I'm in Kansas City." Me: "Oh, okay." Him: "So how was your day?" Me: "Well, I had to put my cat down (which I had also mentioned in my email, which apparently he didn't actually read) and then my play got cancelled, so...not so good." Him: "Oh. Well, I'll be back in town in a few days. I'll call you. Got to go." WTF? Apparently he's not so good with the extending of sympathy. Why are men like that? New Guy never wanted to be around me if I was sad or upset about something. Grr.

Saturday was Cat Lady Lunch today, which was nice. THEY know how to be properly sympathetic about the loss of a perfect kitty. (He was, too...never did anything wrong. Got along with everybody. Perfect. Sniff.)

I made a phone call to my friend who directs the "Fridiron," leaving a message to the effect that I would be available this year after all, if she still needed me.

I ran a few errands (including buying myself several forms of comfort food at Whole Foods) and then decided I was just too drained to haul myself out of the house again for the "Nensa" meeting.

Sunday morning, church.

Finally heard back from the "Fridiron" director--I'm always welcome, of course, though there's a big cast again this year, and she doesn't know how many songs I'll get. Of course. Sigh. Still, it's something to do. I also offered the use of my "flat baby" (who starred in a previous year as Jayden James Federline--hee) as whichever oddly named Palin child we choose, figuring after the recent election cycle, there's bound to be plenty of Sarah Palin parodies being written. Her: "Oh, I was hoping Flat Baby could come back!" Bwah. (For those of you who don't know what a "fridiron" is--and replace the "f" with a "g"; I just don't want it googleable--it's a nonpartisan song and skit-based parody of political events and pop culture, both local and national.)

Sunday afternoon, wine and snacks and gossip (always gossip) with my former employer and co-workers from a long-ago job. (We were all laid off together--it created a bond. Hee.) We sat in the sunroom and rejoiced in the beauty of the lovely spring (again, thank goodness) day.

Sunday evening, watched the Amazing Race, fell asleep on the couch soon after.

So, that was my weekend. Highs and lows. I hope yours shared the highs and avoided the lows.

Sorry to disappoint

2009-03-10T10:25:00.002-06:00

But there are no really good stories from the speed-dating. Once again, while it was not at all unpleasant, it was ultimately unproductive.

It started out a bit ragged...for some reason the usual venue was closed when the coordinator got there to set up. She freaked out, then started across the street to beg another bar or restaurant to take us on short notice. Fortunately, the place right across the street was willing, but she was understandably a little late getting things ready, and the layout wasn't super-organized.

So, we all sat the bar and chatted for a bit. Since it was a last-minute thing, there were no free appetizers. Bummer. I talked for a while with a couple of other women, both of whom knew each other from their Sunday School class. Then I chatted for a bit with the pleasant fellow on my other side...but it turned out he was there for the 29-42 group, and I was going with the 39-52 folks. Oh, well.

Then off we went. There were only five couples in my age group. The younger age group was larger, and they seemed livelier. Of the five possible guys, one was a retread from the last event I attended. He didn't pick me then, so I sure as hell wasn't going to pick him now, so...four guys. Not great odds.

The conversations all flowed pretty well. I didn't feel any immense attraction to any of them. The one guy I found somewhat physically appealing was kind of a goofball. He sat down and said instantly, "So, tell me all your deepest darkest secrets." My response: "Hey, that's what my blog is for!" "You have a blog!?" Then we veered off into a discussion of Facebook, which he recently joined, and that's kind of where we stayed. Him: "Facebook is so smart...how do they know all these people from my past? 'We think you might know...' It's crazy." Me: "Well, they just cross-reference the information you gave them when you filled out your profile." Him: "Oh." He seemed kind of disappointed, and I wanted to say "No, I mean...it's MAGIC!"

One other guy said he was also an actor. Me: "So how come I don't know you?" So diplomatic. He hasn't been in town all that long, and he usually works at theatres I don't work at, so our paths hadn't crossed. We did have some mutual friends, though, so we talked about that, mostly. He mentioned having been in a particular show last year that I didn't see, but remembered getting a pretty scathing review. I did NOT bring that up. Give me some credit. Heh. He had seen the show I did last year with sciatica. He "thought I looked familiar."

Then there was an oil and gas title attorney who just moved to town, and who lives in and LOVES the part of town I hate the most. Him: "Everything I need is close by. There's no reason to ever go anywhere else." Me: "I can't think of any reason to EVER go to that part of town. There is nothing there I need." (Again with the diplomacy.) Him: "I hear that a lot." Hee.

Who else...oh, an oil and gas engineer who likes to play golf. Yawn.

And, of course, the aforementioned returning player. I had to remind him that we'd done this before, and then he talked at length about how that last time didn't work out so well for him. I bit my tongue and did NOT say, "Maybe you picked the wrong girls, dillweed." The instant the bell rang, he jumped up and started off, then, turned and said, "I'm not being rude, am I? I did hear the bell?" Yes, dude, you did. Go.

So, that was that. I then went down the block and had an entertaining meal at one of my favorite restaurants, with a couple of the other participants. The two Sunday school women, of course. We compared notes on the guys, and filled in some gaps for each other on the information we had managed to pry out of them. And...that was that.

I logged in this morning and decided to go ahead and say "yes" on the actor and the goofball. So far...no one has said "yes" on me. I can't say I'm either surprised or disappointed. I'm just hoping they don't offer me yet another freebie. I'm a miser--I can't turn down FREE.

And...life goes on.

I should hang a banner.

2009-03-09T13:36:00.002-06:00

"Mission Accomplished."

I am, at long last, the owner of a pair of purple sunglasses. They're not exactly what I had in mind, but they're cute, they're purple, and they were only $12.99 at Target! The cashier asked if I wanted to wear them out, but I wasn't really listening and thought she was just asking if I wanted to put them in my purse instead of a bag, so I said "yes." When she offered to cut the tag off for me, I realized what she was saying and my immediate (unspoken) reaction was: "Are you crazy? Purple sunglasses with THIS outfit?" I may have a teeny bit of a problem. Heh.

Yesterday was a good day all around--I also redeemed a free burrito at Qdoba, hung a few of my "chicken plates" on the wall above the stove, finished reading the book I started the night before, watched the Amazing Race, and sat around the house in shorts and a t-shirt because it was just that warm. Yay.

I plucked another book off my "borrowed" stack to start on, and took great delight in noticing that the colors of the cover coordinated EXACTLY with the bookmark I've been using. (Copper and teal.) Every time I pick up the book and pull the bookmark out, I am momentarily content. If you don't understand that, well...then you must not be OCDish with a thing about color-coordinating, is all I can say.

Saturday was mostly a "lay around the house in my pajamas" day. (Weekly housecleaning aside, of course. And the laundry went out on the line to dry. Yay, spring! Sorry to keep rubbing that in, all you folks still in the snow.)

Friday night was spent in the company of Mr. Short Term. We actually had a very lovely "date." We went down to the Riverparks and took a long walk, hand-in-hand. Yes, it was 9:00 p.m., but we didn't even need jackets, 'cause it was just that nice. (Sorry.) Then we stopped at the grocery store for veggies, pita bread and hummus, and went back to his place and nibbled and drank beer and cuddled on the couch. I've decided the deal with Mr. Short Term is that he wears blinders much of the time. When he's working, he's WORKING, and I'm not sure he even remembers I exist. When I pop into his field of vision again, then he thinks, "Oh, HER. I like HER." And he's all sweet and affectionate and all about ME...until he goes back to work and forgets I exist again. Heh. Well, it beats the alternative, right? Someone who thinks about me all the time, but treats me like crap in person?

So, doesn't that sound like a nice weekend? Too bad the whole thing was blown to hell when I had to drag myself out of bed this morning, an hour earlier than my body was expecting, and in the DARK. Gah. Double gah.

Speed-dating tonight, folks! I'll try to have some interesting tales for you tomorrow.

My house is haunted.

2009-03-06T13:46:00.003-06:00

It's true. I seem to have a ghost. But I think the ghost is a cat. I keep hearing noises, noises that sound specifically animal in origin, but when I look in the direction of the noise...there's nothing there. Once it came from behind the shower curtain. A couple of days ago I heard a specific "cat messing with a plant" noise...but I was staring straight at the plants, and there was nary a cat in sight. Yesterday I came home to find a cluster of cats in one corner of the room, staring intently at...nothing. A couple of their tails were puffed up. I hope it's a friendly ghost, at least.

It is so beautiful and warm here I can hardly stand it. I'm sorry for those of you who haven't experienced the freakish early spring thing this year, but it's something like 80 degrees here. Crazy. I've got the A/C running in my office.

Either tonight or tomorrow night I'll be seeing Mr. Short Term. Other than that, it's an unplanned weekend again. Then the following weekend is going to be jam-packed. I'm all feast or famine on the weekends here, it seems.

I haven't heard anything further from Brandon Walsh. I'm okay with that. At least I know not to take it personally. I could have done with a bit more "you're intelligent and beautiful and nice" though, just to prop up the old ego. Heh.

Monday night is the rescheduled speed-dating round you've all been waiting for. Theoretically, at least. It's been rescheduled three times now...maybe third time's the charm!

Enjoy your own feast or famine.

Belated Weekend Update

2009-03-04T13:31:00.003-06:00

Are we too far past the weekend for an update? Well, too bad. Here it is, anyway.

Let's see...Friday night. Went to Mr. Short Term's place, drank beer, ate veggies and fruit and guacamole and chips, and pretty much fell asleep on the couch watching MSNBC. We are exciting! (And we were tired.)

Saturday morning, cleaned the house.

Saturday afternoon, met "Brandon Walsh of 90210" (hee) for lunch at my favorite restaurant. He was very sweet. "You're even prettier than your picture." He's smart, easy to talk to, we have a lot of similar philosophies...I wish he was 10 years younger. Was there physical chemistry? Well, none that would knock your socks off (you know, like New Guy), but none of that "omigod, never in a million years" gut reaction, either. I just...wish he was 10 years younger. Heh. We had a nice time, and he gave me a little hug in the parking lot. I left having decided that I would be willing to go out again, thinking if nothing else, we could have a nice friendship. Oh...and he did pass the sweet-and-sour test...though just barely. He ordered fried rice.

Stopped at Whole Foods on the way home for the ingredients to make my world-famous goat cheese and sundried tomato dip--this time I added artichoke hearts, too. YUMMY.

Saturday evening I went to Readers Club, toting with me a whole bunch of finished books to return to their owners. Yay! I brought home a couple of new ones to add to the to-be-read stack, and I also brought home some oh-so-delightful chicken plates (no, not plates on which to eat chicken, though I suppose you could--plates decorated with chickens), and some cute little cloth napkins. Our hostess and her sister-in-law were downsizing the contents of their kitchen cabinets. (Thanks, George! And Megan!) I heart my new chicken plates. And my napkins. (And the Ethiopian-style stewed lentil leftovers that went home with me, as well, and became an entry in the Facebook Breakfast Chronicles, for those of you playing along at home.)

Then I went home and crumpled into a heap on the couch.

Sunday morning I sent a quick email to Brandon Walsh, thanking him for lunch, it was nice meeting him. Polite.

Went to church, and then met up with my parents afterwards to go to lunch, and then the mall. (Two new bras, two new tank tops, courtesy of my mom. Whoo hoo.) Then we went back to my house to pin Pudge down and trim the eagle talons he has been blessed with at the end of his feet. Only drew blood once! (Poor Pudge. And damn those black toenails.)

And...I think that was pretty much it. Settled in on the couch, watched Amazing Race.

Monday I expected to hear back from Brandon Walsh--at least a little "it was nice to meet you, too" email. Nothing. Likewise on Tuesday. I started to get a little pissed off, on general principles. I thought he was a nice guy! We talked about the importance of mutual civility! He knows I dislike rudeness! Aarggh!

This morning I got an email...apologizing for the tardy response. He's been thinking about me every day, wanted to call rather than email, which he finds impersonal, but had been working late nights (no reason to doubt that, for the record, he told me his schedule...I don't know when he would have time to date even if we did decide to, frankly), I'm very beautiful and intelligent, he wants to see me again, BUT...he has concerns about the age difference. So do I, Brandon, so do I. Sigh. So...I emailed back that I shared his concerns, but that if he wanted to go to dinner again at some point, I would be happy to do so...maybe we can be friends. (I'm trying to think if I have any female friends I could fix him up with....hmmm....)

Mostly I just wanted to hear from him because I am SO TIRED of these guys that disappear without a trace. SO TIRED. It's so easy to be relatively polite these days--we have email. If it's too difficult to do the face-to-face "I didn't feel a connection" thing, you can do it painlessly via the interweb. I've done it myself--I'm all for avoiding awkwardness whenever possible.

So, that's that. I'm still having a hot-and-heavy email "relationship" with the almost-divorced guy. I think it's a good litmus test, actually. If emailing with him is more fun than an actual face-to-face with a guy....then that's NOT the guy. Right? Right.

In the meantime, I just need a few more Mr. Short Terms, to keep things interesting while I wait. Heh.

And now, a super-planned weekend.

2009-02-27T13:45:00.002-06:00

Last weekend I had no plans--this weekend I've got nothing but.

Tonight I'll be seeing Mr. Short Term. I didn't see him last week, and actually hadn't talked to him in a couple of weeks, after I vowed to stop calling him for a while (as I was tired of always feeling like I'd interrupted him during brain surgery or something--hee), and told him if he wanted to see me, he should feel free to call. Which he did, finally, so we're getting together this evening.

Tomorrow, I'll be having lunch with the new older guy I mentioned before (the one who facebook friended me)--I'm going to refer to him as Brandon Walsh. Not because that's his name, but because his real name IS the same as a character from the original 90210, and that makes me laugh. We're going to my favorite restaurant--any bets on the sweet-and-sour test?

Tomorrow evening is the monthly readers club. I'm returning a sizable stack of books to their rightful owners--it was a good month for reading.

Sunday morning, church. I don't like to miss church during Lent. I no longer give up anything for Lent, so it seems the least I can do is make it to church regularly during that time.

Then I think my parents might come to town Sunday afternoon for a late lunch. My mother wants to, as she put it, "get out of Dodge." Heh.

Sunday evening I may or may not go to a party kicking off this year's "Fridiron" production. It's not looking like I'll be able to do the show, due to my ongoing commitment to the play that still hasn't been scheduled (I know it's not your fault, Julie, if you're reading!), but if I'm in the mood, it might be fun to go have a few beers with the rest of the folks. They're a pretty genial bunch, generally.

Now, for those of you who are my facebook friends, both Brandon Walsh and Mr. Short Term are also my friends. Bonus points if you can accurately guess who they are! (But don't mention it on my wall, please. A little discretion. Heh.)

Enjoy your own heavily or lightly scheduled weekends.

Bits and pieces and things I don't get

2009-02-25T09:35:00.002-06:00

My "unplanned" weekend...went exactly as planned. Heh.

On Saturday, I never even got out of my pajamas. Which didn't stop me from making a couple of trips to the office to feed the kitty, or from pulling through the Sonic for a junior breakfast burrito. Of course, my "pajamas" this time of year are flannel sleep pants and a fleece pullover, so it's not as if I was cavorting around town clad in nothing but a see-through lace nightie.

I did a lot of reading, and managed to finish the hefty tome I'd been working on, "Great Captain," by Honore Morrow (a fictionalized account of Lincoln's presidency, written in the late 20s), in plenty of time to return it to its owner at the readers club meeting next weekend. I think I've polished off at least 6 books since last month's meeting. Go, me!

Sunday I went to church and the grocery store, watched Amazing Race (welcome back!) and dozed through the Oscars.

Last night I watched the presidential address, and I didn't once want to throw a heavy object through my television screen. Whoo hoo! I thought it was a very good speech, and kudos to the Republicans present for at least occasionally putting their partisanship aside and applauding along with everyone else. (It was good to see Justice Ginsberg out and about, as well. You go, girl!)

I also watched Bobby Jindal's "response" speech, and...someone needs to tell Mr. Jindal that we KNOW he's a brainy policy wonk (I may differ with his philosophy, but he's always seemed intelligent), and that folksy "Mr. Rogers talking to kindergarteners" vibe he was trying to pull off was an abject failure. "Americans...CAN...do ANYthing." Cue attempt at charming smile. He came across as a total goof. You can't do folksy, Bobby! Stop trying! I suppose he's trying to out-Palin Palin, but he should play to his strengths. Or not. Keep up the good work, Mr. Jindal-MY party appreciates it. Heh.

Tell me, if you will, on what planet telling a guy to "stick it up his a**" (and yes, I used the asterisks, 'cause I'm a lady) should, in response, net you an invitation to a concert? Planet CRAZY? Yes, we're talking about Insane Guy here, who, when I took too long to respond to an email, once again told me to go jump in the river, 'cause he was tired of "being a nice guy." I replied that he wasn't being a NICE guy, he was being a PUSHY guy, and that I, too, was tired of being nice, so...stick it. I didn't expect to hear from him again, and was completely surprised when his next message was a polite invitation to attend a concert with him. WTF? Why in the world would I agree to meet someone who has twice, with very little provocation, told me to jump into an icy-cold body of water? Does he think I am Insane Girl? Sheesh. I didn't respond, and have heard no further from him.

Speaking of hearing no further, here's another thing I don't get. What in the world possesses these guys to INITIATE contact, eventually ASK YOU to meet for dinner/drinks, BEGIN the process of deciding where/when and then...disappear. It's happened again, this time with the singer I was supposed to meet, and I truly don't get it. Why bother to start something you have no intention of finishing? I refuse to believe that there's something about the way I type "Tuesday's no good for me, what about Wednesday" that is inherently repulsive. These guys are just insane. I hear it's going around.

I must have popped back up to the top of flentyofpish again, as I have been getting some new attention there. Nothing too noteworthy so far. I also have exchanged phone numbers with an older guy (60, but he swears it's a young 60) on a different site. We had started to communicate with our personal email addresses, and yesterday I got a facebook request from him. I dithered a bit, trying to decide if I should ignore it, 'cause we really don't know each other yet, blahblahblah, and finally decided that I'd go ahead and confirm, and that way I could check HIM out, as well. Well, joke's on me...he's brand-new to facebook, and so far...I'm his only friend. And now HE gets to see what I've eaten for breakfast every day for the last week?! No fair. Hee. Oh, well...I figure if I can let people I haven't seen since high school, and don't remember ever actually speaking to, see what I'm up to, what's one more virtual stranger checking in, really? I'm not ashamed of my untraditional breakfast choices, after all.

Last night I called New Guy. I was planning to wish him Happy Mardi Gras (he's a Louisiana boy, remember), and suggest that if he needed to give up something for Lent, he could try giving up hurting my feelings by not returning my phone calls in a timely manner. Well, thank goodness he answered before I could leave my snarky message. Turns out he's in Louisiana right now...his mother died. I'm so sad for him, and SO glad he didn't have to hear my snarkiness at this particular moment. (Of course, he SHOULD have called me back right away, but...he's off the hook this time.)

I'm trying to decide if I want to go to the big church downtown at noon for my Ash Wednesday ashes, or go to my little church tonight. Remember how last year the priest preached on and on and on, and then gave me the ash cross to top all ash crosses? No? You don't remember every single thing I've ever blogged about? Shame on you. Heh.

Randomosity

2009-02-20T10:12:00.003-06:00

First off, a big "job well done" to -r-, and the Blogshare 4.0 participants. Wasn't that fun? I had no idea so many people enjoy watching dogs poop. I thought it was just me. Hee. (Edited to add that I'm NOT saying that was my post! Actually, I'm saying it was NOT my post.) Next time maybe we can all discuss that crinkly thing that happens to a cat's face just before a yawn. (It's so cute!)

I never got around to my post in defense of Jessica Simpson, did I? So, let me just say this: step off. So, she ate a few cheeseburgers and "ballooned" up to a whopping size 8. Who cares? She's curvy. It's refreshing. If she's happy, who else has a right to weigh in (so to speak)? So, stop picking on her weight gain. There are PLENTY of other reasons to pick on Ms. Simpson--her "fashion" choices, her creepy dad, those weird Joe Cocker-like faces she makes when she sings. Get busy on those.

Michael Phelps. Come ON. A twenty-something kid takes a bong hit at a party. That's newsworthy? Really? I've got to tell you...if he can take the occasional toke and STILL be motivated to swim 63,000 miles a day, well...my hat's off to you, Mr. Phelps. Most people just sit on the couch and eat when they're stoned. Or so I've heard. Ahem.

I've been changing my Facebook status this week to reflect what I'm eating for breakfast each day and, you know what? People actually seem to find it funny. Maybe it's because I eat very non-typical breakfasts, but one of my friends told me she actually thought to herself this morning "I wonder what Liz will have for breakfast today?" This cracks me up. And puts me under intense pressure. Got to keep the breakfasts interesting--don't want to lose my readership. Ha!

So far I still wouldn't say the the aforementioned Facebook has changed my life, but it has been fun reconnecting with some of my old friends. And I now have an open invitation to stay in a guest room if I want to come to New York City. Which I do, very much. Got to find a way to make that happen soon...

I've also been involved in my first Facebook kerfuffle. There was a discussion thread started by one of my old high school band classmates. It was kind of fun at first, but then it just got annoying. Mostly because of one person. I disliked this guy in high school, loathed him for the short while we were in college together, and could have lived my entire life without ever hearing his name again. We didn't "friend" each other, but because we were both tagged in this thread, I kept getting endless notification emails with his name in them, and it was making me insane. (I was not the only one, either.) So a couple of us tried very politely to suggest that perhaps an official group should be formed, and that way anyone who wanted to continue the discussion could do so on the group wall, and spare us all the dozens of daily notification emails. Well, you'd have thought we told them their babies were ugly. "If you don't like it, just hit delete!" I finally had enough and got a wee bit ugly myself. "Stop this thread and start a new one without those of us who've asked for it to stop!" I mean, for pete's sake, why would you want to continue to annoy someone who's asked nicely to be left out of the conversation? Well, I was "unfriended" by a couple of the most active participants in the discussion thread, and I couldn't be happier. I barely remembered them anyway--I only "confirmed" to be nice. That'll teach me.

Speaking of people I barely remember, I was also friended by someone from my high school whose name sounds familiar, whose face seems a bit familiar, and with whom I have several mutual Facebook friends. He's sent me a few friendly messages, and I've responded politely, but for the life of me I can't put this guy into any actual context of memory. I feel like I should know him, but I can't remember ever actually speaking to him. Am I getting early onset Alzheimer's? Or am I being punk'd? Hmmm...

Sarah Palin. She owes $18,000 in back taxes. Where is the outcry from the conservatives? Nary a peep. Personally, the unpaid taxes don't outrage me nearly as much as the "income" on which the taxes are owed. She charges the state of Alaska for every day she spends at her own house in Wasilla, instead of in the state capital. Who does that? What other state allows that? Presumably, she knew the capital was in Juneau when she campaigned for the job. Okay, strike that. Maybe she didn't know. Geography's not her strong suit. But she should have known, and the state of Alaska shouldn't be paying because she insists on living in Wasilla! Sheesh.

So, what else....

Is there dating news? Nothing of note, really. I haven't talked to Mr. Short Term since last weekend, when I told him I was going to stop calling during the week, as I never seemed to reach him at a convenient time, and it was becoming hard not to take his brusque reception personally. I told him he was welcome to call me any time, so...we'll see, I guess. Heh. The hot and heavy email relationship with Mr. Not Quite Divorced continues unabated. Sad, that my pen pal relationship with him is more gratifying than many actual dates I've been on this year. I may be having dinner some time soon with a gospel/R&B singer a bit older than me, though we seem to be having some trouble making the actual arrangements. (This happens frequently with flentyofpish guys, and seemingly only with flentyofpish guys. They lack follow-through. Hmm...) I'm still hearing occasionally from Insane Guy, as well. He wants a girlfriend so bad he can't stand it. It's off-putting, and he doesn't seem to get that. I might have to block him at some point, when I no longer find the insanity somewhat diverting.

For the first time in a while, I have absolutely no plans for the weekend. I can't decide if this is good or bad. On the plus side...a lot of free time to nap and putter around the house. On the minus side...tomorrow is the anniversary of a day I don't like to remember, and it might be better if I was busy. (Sorry to be cryptic--it's not something I want to talk about.) But, hey--I do have a HUGE stack of books I'm working my way through, and it would be great to finish up my current read before next week's readers club, so perhaps literature will be my salvation. (And not for the first time. Heh.) I'll let you know how it works out.

Have good weekends, yourselves...whether you have plans or not.

Anonymous

2009-02-18T08:23:00.000-06:00

I'm supposed to write something torrid. I'm supposed to write something scandalous. I'm supposed to tell you my deep, dark secrets and say all the things that I never could. That's what I'm supposed to do. But here's the thing. My life doesn't suck. It could be so much worse.

This is not to say I haven't had some crappy things in my life. I grew up in a religion that restricting my very being. By being a woman I was less than. I was molested by my grandfather at the age of 10. My husband and my aunt are the only ones that know. That same grandparent was awful to my parents in every single way. And I have born the that along with what else he inflicted upon me and them. My family left the religion we were in when I was 16. They moved away and left me to live with my grandparents. The SAME grandfather. I slept with a locked door every night. I was the one that bore the brunt of the ridicule and the accusations and the shunning of people that were supposed to be my friends. They mocked me, the put me down, they literally turned their backs on me. At school I was ignored at best. And that's when I wasn't being bullied. In response to these things I have become sharp, sometimes hard and occasionally mean. I'm impatient. I'm not who I can and should be.

But this weekend I spent my time with my family. My husband, my SIL and her family and my immediate family. And the love that I have in my life overshadows anything else that I have experienced. My sisters (blood and in-law) are my best friends. They would do anything for me. My brothers are good, strong men and are always there. My parents are kind, supportive and the voice of reason. And my husband? He is my life. My love. My BFF. He is everything I need and nothing I ever expected. And yesterday I stopped taking birth control. There's my secret. No one knows that.

My life is good. It is beautiful. There are many things I could focus to show how not so good it has been but I can't. I won't. Not anymore. I'm letting it all go. I'm embracing my beautiful, wonderful life for all it is and I'm living it. To the fullest.

It's Blogshare Day!

2009-02-18T08:22:00.001-06:00

Here's a list of the participants. I will follow this post immediately with the anonypost being featured here today. Enjoy!

And You Know What Else
Andrea Unplugged
Blue Soup
Bright Yellow World
Bwildered
Caity of the Keps
Catheroominations
Citystreams
Daily Tannenbaum
Did I Say That Outloud?
Dispatches From The Failed Mommy Club
Face Down
For The Long Run
Full Of Snark
Heidikins
In Java, Literally
Just Below 63
LizLand
Malfeasance
A New Duck
NonSoccer Mom
The North Is My Snowcone
Not The Daddy
Operation Pink Herring
Pants, Pants, Pants
Red Red Whine
Sassy Buster
Sauntering Soul
Shushing Action
Snarke
Snow-Covered Hills
Swimming With Sharks
Thinking Some More
Trueish Story
Way Way Up
Whiskey Marie

And, in other news, Nathan has an itchy rash!

2009-02-16T09:28:00.002-06:00

It's almost here--that internet phenomenon known as Blogshare! If you're unfamiliar with the concept, this is the brainchild of the lovely and talented -R-, wherein bloggers across the 'sphere publish posts written anonymously by different bloggers. So, on Wednesday, you will find an anonypost here, and my own anonymous ramblings will be pushlished elsewhere. Where? I'm not saying. You'll have to try and guess. A list of participating blogs will be published along with the posts, so you can spend an entire day reading what will undoubtedly be a whole bunch of funny, sad, heartrending, ridiculous "confessions."

I spent Valentine's Day in the most pathetic way possible, on the face of it. I had lunch with my middle-aged cat lady friends, and dinner with the "Nensa" nerds. It's almost poetic, isn't it? (Though, I must say, it was the most enjoyable "Nensa" meeting I've attended...one of the members was on "Peojardy" a couple of months ago, and she talked about the audition process before we watched a tape of her episode. I now have a new goal in life--I want to be on "Peojardy," too.)

Strangely, I got more chocolates this year than one person really needs. From: the owner of the company I work for (it's a tradition), my direct boss, her son (I'm guessing--they were left on my desk while I was out Friday afternoon, and he often adds to his mom's contribution), and two of my cat lady friends. A nice haul! Including an old-fashioned candy lipstick. I didn't know they still made those. I mean...don't today's young girls start troweling on the makeup like little prostitutes at an early age, leaving no need for candy beauty products? Heh.

I had lunch yesterday with Mr. Short Term. (Calm down--it's no more serious than it ever was.) And to prove it, I'm email chatting with a few different guys, as well. One of whom is, I believe, clinically insane. Good thing he doesn't have my real name or number. One other of whom I believe I've mentioned before--the nice guy still not quite divorced. The two of us are having quite an extended, enjoyable email relationship. We've exchanged over 100 messages in the last three weeks or so, and we've even tackled religion and politics without pissing each other off. No plans to meet, or anything...I think at this point he just needs someone to talk to, as he navigates the tricky field of returning to the dating world. A world he never really inhabited, actually...he married the third girl he dated, and the first girl he went out with more than twice. To someone who's been dating since the Reagan administration without ever making it down the aisle, that's just...wow. Anyway, I enjoy talking to him. He's very articulate and well-spoken. (Well-typed?)

And who's this Nathan, I hear you asking? Oh, just some poor shlub who called a wrong number early this morning (mine), and left a detailed message for his employer on the machine. A "work-related" rash requiring a visit this morning to the dermatologist? And co-worker "Chris" is having the same symtoms? Hmm.... Fortunately, he left a number, so I was able to call him back and let him know his message went awry. Didn't want the poor guy to be fired, after all. Isn't an itchy rash on a Monday morning enough to deal with? He seemed a bit embarrassed. I would, too, if I'd just told a total stranger the details of my dermatological private life.

And with that, I'm off to scratch my own rash. Or, you know, do some work. Whichever.

It's official.

2009-02-12T10:02:00.003-06:00

Facebook is done. Uncool. On its way out.

By which I mean to say that MY PARENTS "friended" me yesterday. And I had to "confirm," of course...can't "ignore" the parents as they try to be all cool and hip. I knew trouble might be brewing when one of my aunts friended me a while back...and then my brother apparently said something to my mother about a facebook interaction we'd had.

Mom: "What is this facebook?"

Me: Oh, it's just a silly social networking site...you wouldn't like it.

Nice try, no cigar.

Okay, so we're "friends." Now I just have to hope that nobody Michael Phelpses me and posts a picture showing me taking a hit from a bong at a party. Not that anyone could, of course...there are no pictures of me doing something that I never did in my whole life!

Now I just have to remember that my parents can see my wall. Thank god they still don't know about the blog. Fingers crossed...

4,367 reasons why it sometimes sucks to live alone

2009-02-09T09:57:00.002-06:00

I did my semi-annual "purging of no-longer-edible food items" yesterday. (Instead of going to church. Cleanliness is next to godliness, right?) I cleaned out the refrigerator and the pantry. They weren't in horrible shape, truthfully; I made a resolution the last time I moved that I would never let the new refrigerator get all that bad, and I've mostly kept it. There were only a couple of "mystery" tupperware containers to be cleaned out.

Still, though...there were the half-empty jar of mayonnaise, the nearly empty jars of mysterious pickled things, the half-dozen half-empty bottles of salad dressing purchased in my ongoing attempt to find JUST the right one. The carton of rice milk I never quite finished before it went bad--which complemented nicely the box of organic raisin bran I never quite finished, either. A couple of boxes of crackers, going nicely stale. (Those go to the birds, of course.) I don't know why I buy those individual packs of crackers in BULK, either--who am I kidding? Oh sure, they're cheaper that way--but not if you end up throwing the last half of them away.

And then there were the 4,367 little packets of parmesan cheese and peppers from the carryout pizza place between work and home. I didn't really count them, of course...but that's a pretty close approximation. I'm a little embarrassed by how many there were--although it completely explains why, when I pull into the drive-thru, the workers holler out the window, "Hello, Miss Liz!" Heh. There seemed to be an equal number of little packs of Captain's Wafers, thoughtfully provided when I order a side salad to go with my pizza/pasta/garlic bread/nachos, etc. Except I don't LIKE crackers WITH my side salad, so into the pantry they go, since I feel guilty about throwing them out.

I didn't throw them out yesterday, either...I painstakingly opened each tiny little plastic package, and took the resulting banquet outside for the birds. The starlings and sparrows were much appreciative. The mean old mockingbird took a few, scattering the starlings and sparrows each time he made a pass. There was a plucky squirrel vying for crumbs. And one disinterested robin walked nearby, looking disdainfully at the crackers and shouting "Where's the BEEF? I mean..um...the WORM?" I freshened up the water in the birdbath, and they all took a post-brunch dip, completely ignoring my warnings to wait an hour after eating to swim! You'll get a cramp!

Yes, I realize that I sound completely insane. I didn't really shout at the birds. Not OUT LOUD, anyway.

And my point? Food should come in smaller packages for single people. Yeah, yeah...I know it does, sometimes...but it's not CHEAPER to buy it that way. It should come in smaller packages AND be correspondingly cheaper. It's only fair.

So, what else went on this weekend? Another pleasant date with Mr. Short Term. (Thai food this time. We are perfect dining companions.) Some beautiful, beautiful weather. We had our monthly women's drunken potluck last night, and I wore sandals and sat outside. At the same time. Lovely.

Perhaps tomorrow I'll come to the defense of Jessica Simpson (I know!) and Michael Phelps, but for now I'm going to leave you.

Interview questions have been sent today to flurrious and greenduckiesgirl, so you'll want to check that out, I'm sure. I sent some of the same questions to them both, because I am lazy...I mean, because I want to get their different takes on them, of course. That's the ticket. I'm sure they will make my silly questions into very funny reading.

Some questions. Plus one more word.

2009-02-04T11:25:00.002-06:00

I ran into a friend at the vet yesterday (me, cat with bladder infection, her, cat with digestive upset) and she said, "Oh...I've been thinking about your one word. Regal." I like it. (I feel I don't need to tell you what category of friend she falls into. Hee.)

And now, I have been agreed to be interviewed by the "smarticulate" (that was my made-up word for HER) Stefanie. We both remember that we've done this before, but hey...friends can never ask too many questions of friends, right?

Some of her questions are hard. (Gee...just because she had to hypothetically limit herself to one kind of cheese. Heh.) I have chosen to highlight the questions in purple, 'cause I'm all REGAL and shit.

1. I know you have more than one tattoo. I also know that many people find tattoos addictive. Are you done now, or do you have more body art in mind? If you HAD to get another tattoo tomorrow, what would you get and where would you place it?

Well, tattoos most definitely ARE addictive, and I'm definitely not done. But I think long and hard about them first (as everyone should--they're permanent, you know!), and if I could decide what I'd get and where, well...I'd probably have another already. Hee. I will probably go with somewhere on the upper body--arm or shoulder, as they seem to heal more quickly than those on the legs or ankles. I have thought about adding another Cherokee word (but WHAT word?)...or maybe I should go with something to honor the Scottish ancestry I have, as well. Occasionally I think I should just get pawprints--the critters walk all over me, anyway. Suggestions?

2. We all know you've got a thing about ugly hands and about sweet & sour pork. What are some other dating deal-breakers for you?

Let's see..bad grammar, of course. I don't think I'd go out again with someone who was deliberately rude to the waitstaff. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be comfortable dating someone who has hunting "trophies" as part of his decor. His laugh shouldn't make me want to stab my fork into my eardrums. And let's face it...no neocons.

3. If you could go back and re-live any one day in your life thus far, which day would you choose?

This may be silly, but I really wouldn't mind re-living the day I won Miss Sparkler 1986. That's a mock "beauty pageant" that used to be (unofficially) conducted in conjunction with the outdoor theatre I worked at for several summers. It was held on the 4th of July (naturally) and was hands-down, balls-out the most hilarious part of the summer. The competition was FIERCE. The beers consumed during the pageant were numerous. I've got some pictures somewhere...I'll have to try and find them and see if someone can scan them for me. My "evening gown" was a shoe. A 5'9" tall black, high-heeled shoe. My body was the heel. We worked so hard (there was one representative for each dressing room)--winning was a total high. Especially since I was but a lowly "Villager" (sort of a glorified extra), and no villager had ever won. You got a crown and a cape to wear around for the rest of the summer, any time you chose to lord it over your vanquished competitors. Like I said...silliness. Glorious silliness.

4. Lucky girl! You get to have dinner tomorrow night with Leonard Nimoy or Jon Stewart. Which one will you pick, and what do you want to ask him?

Proof positive that Stefanie secretly hates me? Okay, okay...if I MUST choose...right at this particular time in history I would choose Jon. It's just such an interesting time in politics right now, and I would LOVE to get his take on all the craziness. Then I would like to have Leonard for dessert, please.

5. You've mentioned several times your undisclosed number of cats. Would you rather have double that number, or no cats at all? What if I changed it to triple that number? Is there a number at which you'd simply say, "No more! No cats at all!"?

Oh, goodness! I don't think I could physically/emotionally/logistically/financially handle 2 or 3 times my current number of cats. Unless I win the lottery, and could open that no-kill homeless animal ranch I've always dreamed of, and hire a staff to help me. I believe my current (undisclosed) number IS the number at which I say, "No more! Other than these already here!" Of course, I think I've said that before, at smaller numbers, but...I think I really mean it this time.

Okay, that was fun! Except for the part where I had to give up dinner with Leonard Nimoy.

I think I'm supposed to turn around and offer to interview anyone else who'd like the honor, so...let me know in the comments if you would.

I have great friends.

2009-02-02T10:20:00.003-06:00

If you've read Stefanie's latest post, you know all about the "one word" email game. Shall I share with you the nice things my friends said about me? (Those that bothered to reply, of course. Heh. And if you're reading this and you didn't get said "one word" email from me, it's because I don't have your email address, not because I don't love you and want to know your one word opinion of me, so feel free to leave a word in the comments if you like.)

I deliberately sent to a broad cross-section of my acquaintances (theatre/music friends, animal rescue friends, online friends, former co-worker friends, women's potluck friends) to see if there seemed to be any differences in perception of me from group to group. Answer? None that I can see. What do you think? (And I'm not sure why I'm separating out my former co-workers from my artsy friends, since we worked together at an arts organization, but for this purpose, I am. For that matter, a couple of them would fall into the animal category, too...)

1. wry (former employer) (and which at first glance I read to be "why" and was confused)
2. talented (online)
3. compassionate (online)
4. cat-lady, talented, underappreciated, experience-rich (online friend who had difficulty choosing just one and/or deciding if hyphens were okay--hee!)
5. songstress (former co-worker)
6. tenderhearted (this is sort of a hybrid artsy/online/animal person--we have met in person, but only a couple of times)
7. clever (theatre)
8. multifaceted (animal)
9. unique (animal)
10. cougar! (theatre--punctuation his)
11. awesome (online)
12. intellectual, exuberant, kindhearted (another online friend who felt constrained by the "one" word--hee)
13. mysterious (former co-worker)
14. interesting (online)
15. heartless bitch (music friend--clearly meant to be a joke, retracted as "too many words" and replaced with "vegan." My friends, they are funny!)
16. optimistic (women's group)
17. SASSY! (theatre, capitalization and punctuation his)

It's kind of a fun game. You should all try it.

What else did I do this weekend?

Went to a party Friday night, chilled out with some beer and homemade soup, made plans for lunch the next day with fellow partygoers.

Saturday I cleaned the house, had lunch at the Indian buffet with aforementioned friends, made a trip to Big Box Mart, where I believe I was caught up in White Trash Pride Day, and stood in a long cashier's line with the Queen of said festival. Or maybe she was the Grand Marshall of the parade. At any rate, she was a poet. Consider this gem, said to someone on the other end of her cell phone, after she berated them for making plans to go out that night and "leave her all alone":

So? So...ho, ho
Take yourself to Mexico.
While you're there,
Curl your hair
And don't forget your underwear.

That might be paraphrased a bit, but it's pretty close. Hee.

I did not see Mr. Short Term, as he was out-of-town, but we did talk on the phone, and work out some soon-to-be hurt feelings on my part. He has a bad habit of answering the phone each time I call, and/or calling me right back before I can leave a voice mail, even if it is the MOST inconvenient time for him to talk. Then he's very short with me on the phone, and it was starting to make me feel like a total pest. He apologized, said it was unintentional, and he would try to be more aware. Apology accepted. We agreed that no offense will ever be taken on either side by being sent to voice mail. That's what it's for, after all. He wants to buy me a copy of his favorite health-related book. Mmm...okay. I'm a reader. (And he loves that about me.)

I hate to say this, for those of you still harboring hope in this area, but...it seems Cute Church Guy may have moved out-of-town. There goes my Sunday morning eye candy!

And that was pretty much my weekend. Ooh...except I bought some cheap black boots at the White Trash Festival. They make me feel like Olive Oyl. Heh.

I'm still here.

2009-01-29T09:38:00.003-06:00

**Edited to add the most exciting thing of all--my tax refund arrived in my bank account yesterday. Yay, early e-file!**

I didn't intentionally let a week pass between posts. It's just been busy, I guess. And icy. Very icy.

So, what's been up with me since last week? Let's see...

I had a couple more dates with Mr. Short Term. Both in one day, actually. We met for lunch at my favorite restaurant last Saturday. (Me: "Please don't order the sweet-and-sour." Him: "Why would I? I don't like sweet-and-sour. Do they have Vietnamese noodle soups?" Me: "I knew I liked you.") He was enthusiastic about the food. Yay! Then we both had errands to run, but later I picked up some good beer and went over to his place to watch a movie. ("Waiting for Guffman." He was unfamiliar with the mockumentary stylings of Guest and Levy, but he enjoyed it.) He's got a sideline going selling aloe vera-based nutriceuticals, and he had me try a couple. Let's just say that pure aloe vera juice has a very stimulating effect on your digestive system, a fact of which he did not apprise me BEFORE I drank it, and leave it at that. (I don't want to send Flurrious running for the hills. Hee.) Nonetheless, we had quite a pleasant evening.

Here's the thing. I like him. He likes me. There's chemistry. We have a good time together. I think we'll stay friends, at least. But, thankfully, I don't think I'm at any risk of falling in love with him. That's a good thing, given his current lack of desire for a serious relationship. He can be my "Mr. Right Now" while I continue the search for "Mr. Right."

So, are there any more candidates for that position? Well, I am currently conversing via email with a couple more guys. One of whom is very smart and articulate and literate and thinks he can beat anyone at Trivial Pursuit. (Me: "Bring it on.") The downside? Well, he is fairly recently separated and not actually divorced yet, so...not pinning any great hopes there. (I would like to test his trivia knowledge, though!) The other guy...well, so far our exchanges have been a bit pedantic, and he lives a couple of hours away, so...not pinning anything there, either.

I think it's important that I keep chatting, though. It helps keep me from starting to think of Mr. Short Term as anything but that. And I did get a great email this morning. Why don't I just cut and paste it here for you?

"hi. i have tried on this site to be the friendly sort and a overall nice person and it seems it don't work. i cant even get any response at all. so here goes method v.2.0do you want to get together for a few laughs and orgasms? i am "normally" not THIS blunt but as i said all other attempts at anything else have met in failure, so i am going to start being the typical male and going straight for the sex. let me know if you want to give it a go."

I should say yes, right? After all, he says right in his profile: "I am told i am good at making a woman feel like she is the best and only one in the world." And, listed in his "6 things I can't live without" is, of course, "sex." In the number two position.

Sigh. Gah. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

So, what else have I been doing? Reading. I finished up "A People's History of the United States" Saturday afternoon. Finally. And I've decided I think we should reinstate literacy tests for voting. You want to vote? Read this book first. Heh.

Then I guess I had some sort of burning need to rip through a few less-heavy tomes, so on Sunday morning I read "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time." Monday evening, I read "The Glass Castle." Tuesday I read "My Lobotomy." I recommend them all.

Let's see..speed-dating was postponed again because of the weather. I have rehearsal on the next scheduled date, so it may be a while before I have any entertaining speed-dating stories. Sorry.

It's been icy here, as you might have heard. The trees and power lines were spared this time, but the roads were icy, so I stayed home Tuesday. The local news stations were showing car after car going over guardrails and flipping upside down, and I wanted no part of it. I knew there wouldn't be anything going on at work anyway, and didn't want to risk my life and/or car to sit at my desk, twiddling my thumbs and reading the interweb. (Not that I don't love you all, but...you know.)

Tuesday evening I dropped my cell phone in the toilet. Nice! (Thankfully, nobody had recently "dropped the kids off at the pool" or anything, but still.) I'm still attempting to dry it out, on the recommendation of the cell phone store, and bought a cheap "Go Phone" to use in the meantime. (And we're talking $14.87 cheap. Whoever thought a tiny, functioning cell phone would ever be that cheap, back when we were paying hundreds of dollars for a clunky bag phone to keep in the car? Heh.)

We have our first rehearsal of the week tonight, thanks to the snow, and life is getting back to normal. Or what passes for it around here.

And let's end with a PSA. If you think you're having a heart attack, CALL 911. Regardless of whether you fear that you won't be able to pay the bills afterward. A friend of my sister's died this week. She'd been feeling poorly for a couple of days, and then called my sister (who lives several miles away) one night panicking because she couldn't breathe, but she didn't want to call an ambulance. Even though she had insurance, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to pay her share on her limited income. My sister and her husband raced to her house, IN THE ICE, called 911 as soon as they got there, over her protests, followed her ambulance first to a small-town hospital, then to Tulsa, IN THE ICE, as they realized she needed more intensive care, and the weather was keeping the life flight helicopter grounded. It was too late to reverse the damage at that point, and she died early the next morning. Very sad. Man, the healthcare system in this country is messed-up, when people WITH insurance are still wary of calling for help because of the costs. My advice? MAKE THE CALL. Work out the financial details later, when you're STILL ALIVE.

Okay, I've got to go cheer myself up now. The literate, articulate guy and I are making Brady Bunch references, and it's my turn. Heh.

PSA

2009-01-22T14:30:00.002-06:00

I don't think I actually have any regular male readers, much less any who are out there online dating, but just in case this makes it through the interweb tubes to an appropriate audience: I would like to issue a plea on behalf of all female online daters.

I've discussed before some of the things that I personally hate in an online profile--bad grammar, shirtless pictures, pictures of cars/motorcycles. (Picture of you with a cuddly puppy or kitty, however? Bigtime bonus points!) But there's one thing that squicks me out most of all, and I'm quite sure I'm not alone in this.

I'm squicked out by sex. Not having it, mind you, under the right circumstances... but hearing about it.

I don't want to see it in your summary, not even...no, PARTICULARLY if you try to dress it up as "love-making." Ewww. (And speaking of "ewww," I really, REALLY don't need to hear about your, as one guy put it, "well-hung package." Dude!)

I don't want to see it listed under "6 things I can't live without." Not once, and especially not TWICE. (Sex, my motorcycle, heavy metal, beer, oxygen [and oh, aren't you clever there], SEX.)

You're a GUY. We KNOW you want sex. It's a given. We're really looking to find out what ELSE you're into. Work with us here.

Thank you.

Summing it up.

2009-01-21T11:29:00.003-06:00

Yesterday was pretty close to a perfect day.

I watched the ceremony at our local indie movie theatre. I ran into an old friend I hadn't seen in a couple of years, and sat next to her. I was so aglow from the proceedings that not even having the most annoying man in Tulsa on my other side could harsh my buzz. (I've crossed paths with this local "artist" enough times in the past that I feel quite comfortable giving him the title of Most Annoying Man in Tulsa.) I was so glad that the sun was out in D.C., for those given to seeing the weather as an omen. And it made Obama's flag pin (See--he does SO wear one, and did you notice he put his hand over his heart during the National Anthem? Take that, "Obama hates America" conspiracy theorists.) sparkle each time it caught the light. When the ceremony was over, we went to join some other friends for lunch at a new sports bar--good food (I even let myself have a little creme brulee) and plenty of TV screens to continue the watching. I ran home to let Pudge outside quickly and was back at work by 2:00, as promised. I defiantly left my vest unzipped for the rest of the afternoon, giving a peek at my "Obama 01.20.09" t-shirt underneath. (Such a rebel.)

I decided not to try to find an evening party, and instead ate a whopping order of nachos, then curled up on the couch to watch the continuing MSNBC coverage. I'm sure the Obamas were getting somewhat tired of dancing to the same song at each and every ball, but they seemed quite gracious about it, and it did give the commentators and those of us watching at home a bit of a giggle. "Okay...here comes the slow twirl...now he'll grab the mike again..."

It was a lovely and moving ceremony (miscues by Justice Roberts aside--and of course, there are already idiots saying that consequently Obama's not legally the president--gah), the new First Family is beautiful and vital, and now...well, as Barack would say, "let's get to work, America."

The universe is messing with me.

2009-01-19T14:28:00.003-06:00

I went out with Mr. Short Term on Saturday night. And, of course, we had a great time. Which is why I say the universe is messing with me. Why does it only send interesting guys if they're NOT interested in a long term relationship? Or if they live in a different state? Or could be moving to a different state soon? Why do the guys looking for a long term, committed relationship right here in this town have to be crazy/boring/assholes? Bah.

I give you further proof of the vindictiveness of the universe: "I'm more of a cat person, myself." These words actually came out of his mouth!

Sigh. Okay, you want a few details, I'm sure.

I let him pick me up at my house. (I know, I know...but I've got a brass knuckle key chain and a cellphone. Shut up.) We'd spent so much time on the phone that it kind of seemed like we were already old friends. The first thing he did was start perusing my bookshelves to see what kind of books I read. ("Hey--I can't believe you have a copy of 'Lucifer's Hammer'!")

We went to the bar that I had discussed going to with Mr. Bud Is Great last week--the one with the extensive beer menu. We decided that we were going to "travel" to a different country for each beer. We went to several countries (although he did switch to iced tea at some point, since he was driving), split a garden burger and some tabouli midway, and had a lot of fun.

Yes, there was flirting. And mention of my amazing eyes. And the occasional "bumping" of knees. And playing with the ends of my (long) scarf. He told me an interesting story about meeting his sister for the first time a few years ago. (Very interesting story--he wants to write a book about it. I think it would also make a good movie or play.)

We left the bar, drove around a bit, made a stop at a karaoke bar so I could sing for him...you know, a typical evening out. Heh. There was some more intense flirting. We hung out at his place for a little while. Eventually we both started getting sleepy, and he drove me home.

He's an interesting guy, very gentlemanly, we had a good time, there was physical chemistry...I hate the universe!

I've talked to him on the phone a few times since then, and we're definitely planning to go out again, schedules permitting. I just have to keep reminding myself that this is SHORT TERM. Don't get too attached and don't stop considering other dating options. I do appreciate his honesty on that front...I really do. He has his reasons for not wanting to get too tied down, and I can respect that. I don't have to like it, necessarily, but I can respect it.

In other news...tomorrow is Inauguration Day! I'm taking the middle of the day off to go watch the doings on a bigscreen with other like-minded people. Should be fun!

It's official.

2009-01-15T09:55:00.002-06:00

There are no good men left. My "here are your latest matches" email from Hayoo! personals today said, simply: "There are no new matches right now."

I knew it would happen eventually. Of course, I could try "refining" my search, I suppose, but I prefer to think they're just all used up. It's sort of a relief. Heh.

It's not a record...

2009-01-13T13:49:00.002-06:00

...but I talked to Mr. Not Serious last night on the phone for 2 hours and 38 minutes. I think he might be serious about wanting "intellectually stimulating conversation," as opposed to the occasional booty call. (Or perhaps in addition to the occasional booty call...I'm not sure about that yet. Hee.)

What does one talk about for that length of time? Well, many things...but a great deal of the time was taken up by him doing my astrological chart. (He's a longtime, though amateur, astrologist.) And, I have to say...most of what he said was right on the money. Fascinating. He said there's NO WAY I should have been a doctor (remember yesterday's angsting?), as there is virtually no activity in the 7th house--the house of medicine. And, according to him, my chart virtually assures that I should be an actress. Hmmm....

It was all very detailed--planets, houses, signs, red, blue and green lines, conflations, and I might have thought he was shading some of his assessments to make them seem more accurate to me...but he doesn't know me. Okay, the medicine thing I did ask about, but a lot of the rest of it, well...he'd have no way of knowing what I would expect the answers to be. While analyzing my relationship aspects, at one point he said I had a "square" in the love area. Which made me laugh out loud. You see...(I guess it does no harm to reveal this now)...New Guy's last name was...Square. Bwa!

Eventually he got around to doing our "composite" chart, to see what kind of relationship the two of us might have. "Interesting, possibly intense. But I have to say...I see most of the activity being short term, not long term. (short pause, then he nervously continued) Are you going to hang up on me now?" I just laughed. Dude, you told me right upfront you weren't looking for a long term commitment. And you told me tonight you were afraid you were going to be transferred to a different "home base" for your job fairly soon. You haven't exactly misled me here.

So, maybe he's completely full of shit, but I had a good time talking to him. He finds me "fascinating," and we're planning to get together this weekend for a beer or something. I need someone to kill the time until Prince Charming comes along, right?

How did I end up here?

2009-01-12T14:59:00.002-06:00

Nothing like "bacefook" for bringing home how very much you've wasted your potential. By which I mean that I found out today that one of my goofy high school band friends is now assistant dean of admissions at one of the Ivy League's most prestigious medical schools. And I changed my major from pre-med to music...why? Not that a major in music can't do good things for you, of course...one of my other high school band friends plays with a very major orchestra in NYC. Am I the only one who didn't do big things with my talent and smarts, or does it just feel that way? Sigh.

Speaking of underachievers...I just got panhandled in the convenience store parking lot. The guy wanted "fifty cents" because he'd just been "locked out of his house." Dude, what good is fifty cents going to do you? (I didn't give it to him, by the way. I had no change, loser that I am. Heh.)

I had a nice, long telephone conversation with a new online guy last night...he's a vegan and a union organizer who minored in modern dance in college. Sounds promising, right? The drawback? He travels a lot, and wanted to make sure I knew right upfront that he's not looking for anything serious. We'll probably get together for a beer, though. Sigh again.

"Joe the Plumber" doesn't think the media should be allowed to "report on wars." He said this from Israel, where he's...reporting on the war. Insert extra-large eye roll here.

Excuse me now while I try to go get myself out of this MOOD. Calgon...take me away!

This cracks me up...

2009-01-09T15:23:00.002-06:00

Lifted from an actual online dating profile: "I have been to all 50 states, except for Hawaii, Montana, Idaho and the New England states north of New York." Dude, that's a lot of excepting! Hee.

In other news, I have figured out why I seem to have a soft spot for Roland Burris, possible replacement for Obama in the Senate: he kind of looks like an older, shorter New Guy. Right down to the glasses. Sigh.

In other, other news: I have exercised every day this week so far--my back twinges a bit occasionally, but seems to be holding up otherwise. I have also not had a single between-meal snack or any sort of creamy indulgence in several days. It's not so much a New Year's resolution as a horrified reaction to the pictures the BFF posted of me on his bacefook page. Wish me luck.

Speaking of luck-wishing, I believe I'm going to redeem my free speed-dating credit next week. God help me. But it's FREE. And there will be free appetizers. And you know, in this economy...

Good weekends, all!

Dinner with "casserole"

2009-01-08T14:27:00.003-06:00

No, not casserole FOR dinner, dinner with "casserole." See yesterday's post if you're confused.

Anyway, I had dinner last night with Mr. "You Have Too Many Cats." We had stayed in pretty regular contact, trading pleasant, non-consequential messages back and forth, and had discussed that we might possibly have dinner together one night. So, last night was the night.

Some people should just be pen pals, I guess. Sigh.

He picked me up at my house--something I was actually looking forward to, as I wanted to knock down those stereotypical images of what he imagined a house being lived in by [number redacted] cats would be like. I had tried to convince him that my house a) doesn't generally smell and b) isn't swimming in knee-deep cat hair, but I don't think he ever really believed me. Until last night, when he was forced to admit that he never would have imagined I had animals. He only saw a couple of them, of course, since the shy ones scoot when strangers come, and he kept saying, "but I thought you said you had a lot of cats." I DO, dude. They're hiding. Would I seriously have inflated the number of cats I have, just for fun? 'Cause we all know guys dig chicks with LOTS of cats. Heh.

So, when I actually laid eyes on him, was I sorry to have been proactively defaulted to friend status? Ummm...NO. No physical attraction whatsoever.

Anyway, off we go. We discuss where to go, he suggests a popular bar/restaurant downtown, I say "ooh, they have the BEST beer menu," he enthusiastically agrees (remember this a little later) and we head that direction. As we approach the place, though, the incredible number of cars reminds me: oh, they have that Wednesday Night Burger Special. "Can't beat that, right?" he says. Well, I don't eat burgers, so it doesn't do anything for me. "You don't eat BURGERS?" he asks in a tone of disbelief. Well, I'm a vegetarian, remember? (We had discussed that before.) So, I eat veggie burgers, but that's not what's on special. "What's a veggie burger?"

Okay...this is 2009, right? How the hell can he never have heard of a veggie burger? I mean, I'm not expecting him to be conversant on the pros and cons of different brands or anything...but the concept itself is not that radical, is it? I explain that a veggie burger features a patty made of vegetable protein, and he says, over and over, somewhat disdainfully, "whatever, I guess, whatever."

Did I neglect to mention that, in person, he's really, really prone to some very annoying verbal tics?

Anyway, the restaurant is entirely too crowded, so I suggest we go to another restaurant a few blocks away, which I'm sure won't be too busy on a weeknight. We go there, it isn't, we sit down. The waiter comes up, asks if he can get us something to drink, iced tea or maybe a beer?

"I'll have a Bud," he says. This is where you're supposed to remember the part about the great beer menu at the first restaurant. Why the hell would it matter if all you're going to do is order a Bud? I ask the waiter, beer snob that I am, what do you have that's better? You'd have thought I kicked a puppy. "Better than BUD?!" (This from the casserole, not the waiter.) "It's the BEST." Oh, dear lord. I order a Newcastle. The drinks come, I take a sip, and say, in my best passive-aggressive manner (heh), now that's some good beer. "Why don't you like Bud?" Because it's a watered-down, tasteless swill full of chemicals. He is aghast: "Who told you that?" I told myself that, dude, after drinking plenty of it in my young, stupid days. It has no real taste and hurts my stomach. "Whatever, I guess, whatever."

We continue looking at the menu...speaking of verbal tics: every time his eyes move from one item to the next, he says in a monotone, "uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh." Dear lord, choose something soon.

We order, I do indeed order a veggie burger, and once it arrives he has to start in with the "that looks pretty good...if only it had some meat on it" jokes. 'Cause, in 14 years of vegetarianism, I've never heard THAT one before. Finally, I smile and suggest politely that if he won't mock my food choices, I won't mock his. He shuts up.

Anyway, we eat...I manage to steer the conversation onto topics we can agree on--the importance of music and environmentalism--and things are okay. He grabs the check, I don't even pretend to argue, and he takes me home. An awkward handshake and a "nice to meet you in person and thanks for dinner" and...we're done.

And the moral of the story? Don't EVER think you really know someone from conversing with them online, I guess. Online, they may be relatively charming, while in person, they might be a socially awkward dork (and not in a good way) with no ass and with enough verbal tics to...to...I don't know...to ANNOY you. (In cyberspace, nobody hears you tic. Hee.)

On the plus side...he didn't have stubby hands. Hee. I don't know if we can go back to being online pen pals now, though, sadly...I just can't get the constant "whatever, I guess, whatever" refrain out of my head.

But first...cuteness!

2009-01-07T14:03:00.004-06:00

Pete the Kitten says hello. Don't you just want to eat him up?

Now...about that dating/vegetarian at the potluck comparison. I guess there really isn't all that much "expounding" to do. It's pretty straight forward.

It's challenging to be a vegetarian at your average potluck. Oh, there are generally plenty of dishes lined up there on that table. And sure, some of them can be ruled out instantly--the fried chicken, for example. Or the green beans glistening with fat from those chunks of ham they've been cooked with. But aside from the obvious carnivorous choices, and the occasional bright green salad (sans bacon bits), there are also a lot of mysterious casseroles. If I can't discreetly inquire of the cook "ooh...what's in this?" then I generally skip them, since otherwise I've got to do a little poking and prodding, looking for cleverly concealed chunks of flesh. And don't even get me started on chicken broth--it's in everything.

It's not impossible to have a satisfying meal--it's just not always that easy. And, for me, an artsy/liberal/vegetarian girl in a predominantly conservative and often rednecky part of the country, online dating provides a similar challenge.

Oh sure, there are plenty of choices. And many of them can be dismissed out of hand: the guy whose profile picture features him proudly holding aloft his recently killed deer. The one whose marital status says "ask me later." Most guys on Harleys. Anybody who is shirtless in his picture, unless he is literally standing in the surf, and even then it's a toss-up. (I mean...if he looks really, really good shirtless...heh.) But shirtless in your bathroom mirror in what is obviously a self-portrait? Ew.

Sadly, I hardly ever see an online "salad." But there are all these "casserole" guys--they look okay on the surface, but you get to poking and find an unexpected little piece of neoconservative. Drat! Or it turns out that "I love animals" means "except for cats" or, worse, "stuffed and displayed on my wall." Darn! Or they think a theater is where you go to watch the latest big-budget movie and never to see a play. Sigh. Or--gasp!--their idea of good Asian food is sweet-and-sour pork from a fast-food Chinese drive-through. Heh.

Now, I'm not saying these guys aren't right for SOMEBODY...they're just not right for ME. Like that fried chicken at the potluck.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot?

2009-01-05T14:25:00.002-06:00

No! Auld acquaintance should be your companions on New Year's Eve and Day.

By which I mean that I passed a delightful New Year's Eve and Day and Night with the BFF and his handsome beau, The Steve. I hadn't seen them in a non-funereal setting in...too long. And I hadn't actually been out of the house on NYE in...well, let's see. I definitely remember a New Year's party that involved discussion of whether or not we had stored enough potable water, so that would have been 1999. Heh. I truly can't recall whether I've been to a New Year's party since.

We didn't do anything grand on the Eve...just went out to eat Mexican food and drink Mexican beer in a surprisingly uncrowded restaurant, then back to their luxury hotel suite (that's an inside joke) to sip champagne. And laugh. And watch bits of the "Elf" marathon on TV. And enjoy the company of their delightful dogs. And laugh some more.

The next day we indulged in my usual New Year's Day Indian buffet for lunch (they can always be counted on for black-eyed peas, and it counts even if they're in a cold, Indian-spiced salad, right?), then hit the mall for some gift card redemption. We ended up in the 75% off holiday gift aisle, and made some most delightful purchases. A super-sparkly red snowflake ornament, for example. An adorable little stuffed bear ornament with a tiny, tiny head and huge (by comparison) legs. He's now Zippy the Pin-Headed Bear. And this:

Well, never mind. Blogger won't let me add an image. Damn you, Blogger! You'll just have to take my word for how cute a shiny red pocket tool set with an attached LED light can be. I named it Monte, after a certain tool who blew me off recently. Heh.

Then we hung out at my house for a while, drank some beer, went to dinner at my favorite vegetarian Vietnamese restaurant, then went to the luxury suite for a bit more champagne sipping, before I headed home relatively early. I had to work the next day, you see, and they had to get up and drive home to Tennessee.

It was a short visit, but exceedingly pleasant. Except for that stinkin' fancy camera BFF got for Christmas. It was one of those tiny little things, and BFF kept pulling it out to snap photos. Well, I don't like having my picture taken, as I am most decidedly NOT photogenic, generally, and so I have developed a defense mechanism to deal with a camera in my face. I beat the camera to the punch, so to speak. I make myself look bad on purpose! I make silly faces, sometimes with accompanying silly hand gestures. Or I hide behind a scarf. Like you do. Heh.

So, every time the camera came up, I'd strike a goofy pose. Unbeknownst to me, however...this camera also has video capability. So there I'd be...posing away...wondering what the hell is taking so long, and why the BFF looks so amused. "I've been videoing you this whole time." AAAGGGHHH! I'm told the resulting footage is "hilarious," and that I look like a mannequin. I wouldn't know; I refused to watch it. If it's on "TouYube," well...I just don't want to know.

Here's why we're BFFs: on Friday I went to the drugstore across the street from work to check out their 75% off Christmas aisle, and got, among other things, a delightfully sparkly glass ornament in the shape of a goldfish. I mentioned this to BFF on the phone. "Oh, so it's suitable for year-round display!" EXACTLY, BFF, EXACTLY. (It's in my kitchen right now. Near the glass rooster ornament, of course.)

Tomorrow, maybe I'll expound on my recent revelation that, for me, trying to date the men in this town is like being a vegetarian at a potluck. Heh.

Well, that was...a Christmas.

2008-12-29T13:41:00.009-06:00

**Edited to say that I don't know what Blogger has against proper spacing today, but it seems unfixable, sorry.**

So, what's been happening since last we spoke? Let's run it down, shall we?

Wednesday, Christmas Eve: worked a half-day. The owner brought in lunch for everyone...from a barbeque restaurant. What does a vegetarian eat in this situation? A cheese sandwich dipped in barbeque sauce, plus sides of potato salad and cole slaw. Fully carbo-loaded, I went home and lazed for the rest of the afternoon. Went to church that evening, sang, people loved it, went home. Alone. Sigh.

Thursday, Christmas Day: slept until nearly 8:00 a.m.! (This is definitely sleeping in for me.) Went to the office to feed the work cats, and then waited at home for my family to arrive. Which they did at the unheard-of time of 11:30 a.m.! (It's really hard to get my sister and brother-in-law out and about that early on a weekday.) I had specifically requested that nobody spend much money on presents for me, since I had very little to spend on anyone else. (I must have been prescient, since I made the request even before I spent my Christmas bonus PLUS on car repairs.) Well, they didn't completely heed my request, and I was the recipient of a gift card to CP Jenney's, and my new cleaning girl, MUFFY:

Why "Muffy," you're asking? Well, she's girly and lightweight and PINK. Oh, so pink. I'm not sure this picture adequately conveys the pinkness of the pink. Longtime readers will remember that I am not such a fan of PINK, overall...which my sister knew, of course...and why she thought it hilarious to give me a bright pink vacuum. I have to admit, I grin a little every time I see it. Perhaps that was the point.

We then proceeded to the nearest Chinese buffet. (It's true, they are all open. It's not true, however, that the waiters will gather around your table and sing "Deck the harrs with boughs of horry." Sadly.) I was amused by the fact that my mother seemed to need to assure every staff member who came to the table that WE didn't usually eat out on Christmas, and in fact, this was our very first time, and it was only because she and my sister were so tired of cooking for their catering business. It made me giggle. They're not judging us, Mom! You're not a bad mother 'cause you're not cooking a turkey and baking pies today.

Anyway, here comes the heartwarming part of the story...

A very old man entered the restaurant just as we did. All by himself. Which is enough to make you sad, all on its own. But then my brother-in-law happened to be in earshot when the management required the very old man to pay upfront for his meal. (They weren't doing this to anyone else.) Now, maybe they have reason to know that he's a bad risk, and maybe they were just suspicious because he seemed so downtrodden. Whatever, it's still a bummer.

Now, my brother-in-law and I don't always see eye-to-eye. We have very, VERY different political viewpoints, and that has caused some problems. But he treats my sister well, and I have known him to be very generous. Well, he went up to the manager and told them to give the old man his money back, and put his lunch on our tab. Nice, right? It gets better.

When our bill came, my parents and my bro-in-law began haggling, as usual, over who would pay. My mother finally threw some cash down on the table and announced that she would under no circumstances take it back. B-I-L announced with equal fervor that he was paying the bill with his credit card, and that cash wasn't going into HIS pocket. At which point my sister quietly announced that she knew whose pocket it was going into...and she walked it over to the table where the old man was still sitting, slipped it into his hand and wished him a merry Christmas. She said when he opened his hand and saw the bills all he could say was "oh, oh, oh." Now, I don't care if the old coot spent the whole thing on hookers and blow, that's still a Hallmark moment!

We went back to the house, they got on the road towards home, and that's about it for Christmas Day. Though I am happy to report that the fruit bars from, let's say..."Borgan's Makery," the little hometown bakery I hadn't been to in forever, are just as fabulous as I remembered them. I had specifically requested that they bring me some, as I hadn't had one in 20 years, and then had a panicked moment where I worried that maybe they had changed the recipe, and I was going to spoil my memories. Needless worry. Heh. What is a "fruit bar"? Well, it's a really chewy, flat cookie full of dried fruit. It's better than it sounds.

Friday, Boxing Day: I slept until 8:00 again, then went to feed the office cats. On my way back home, I suddenly lost my power steering. Lovely! With some over-the-phone coaching from my dad, I managed to figure out that a belt was broken. There's an auto parts store near my house, so I went there, purchased a new belt, and then took my choice of several of a strip mall full of "mecanicos," any of which the auto parts guy assured me could help me out. (Yes, I kind of live near Little Mexico.) I picked the one with the most recently painted signage, and what seemed to be a bustling business. The guy agreed to replace the belt: "five minutes...twenty dollars?" I handed him cash, he didn't write anything down or give me a receipt, and off I went, happy as could be. It's good to know there's an agreeable shade tree mecanico so close by. I swung by the grocery store to make sure I had enough cat food until payday, in case yet ANOTHER thing broke on the stinkin' car and stranded me without wheels.

Then, later that afternoon...I decided to brave the mall. I know, I know...what was I thinking? Well, I made it out alive, having pretty much used up gift cards from my mother and the owner of my company. I scored a nice black vest, a pepper grinder to match the salt grinder I bought with last year's card from my boss, a BIG jar of peppercorns, a new throw to cover my ugly couch and some socks. Merry Christmas to me. The remaining $8 on my "Jenney's" card will have to wait for another day, as I couldn't stand one more minute in that crowd.

Saturday, the Day After the Day After Christmas: aside from a couple of trips to feed the work cats, I didn't leave the house. Nor did I shower or change out of what passes for my "pajamas." It was nice.

Sunday, the Day After...ah, I give up: Fed the cats, went to church, stopped at the grocery store for sundried tomatoes, made my "famous" hot, cheesy dip and went to readers' club (where my blog identity was revealed to the room at large, so...hi there, readers, if you're reading). There was LOTS of food, and I ended up taking about half the dip home. On the plus side--I got to take half of the cheesy goodness home! On the minus side--I had to take half of the cheesy badness home. Heh.

And...I guess that's it. Would you like a quick bachelor update? I thought you would.

Guy #1 (the "you have too many cats" guy) and I are having a lovely little pen pal friendship. It's kind of fun getting to know someone with the pressure off. There's no "will we or won't we," as I know we won't...so, we're just chatting. He might even come to my church some Sunday.

Guy #2--the outright lunatic. Peppered me with additional pleas to consider his wooing, including one missive which assured me that he was a good risk, as he has remained friends with ALL his exes, "except for that one crazy in Colorado last summer." Ha! I ignored the emails, and I guess he showed me! Yesterday he informed me that he was now interested in someone else, and SHE is not only interested in him, but she's going to let him come over and fix her jacuzzi. Well, looks like I sure lost out there, huh?

Guy #3--the "love poetry" guy. Well, his response to my (perhaps too honestly) saying that I would probably post unsolicited erotica on my blog was short and sweet: "Merry Christmas and have a good 2009." Okay, dude...I certainly hope to.

I had a tentative date for dinner or a movie tonight with Obama Guy, but apparently it was even more tentative than I thought, as I haven't heard from him since he assured me via email a couple of days ago that he would be in touch to discuss details. Umm...dude...you're running out of time. The smart money says that he calls me around 8:00 tonight to see if I'm ready to make plans. The smarter money says I'm no Rules Girl, but that's WAY too late to begin the date planning. Sigh. For the record, I don't think he's intentionally playing any games...he just operates on a different time continuum than I do. Guess working the overnight shift most nights messes with your concept of appropriate "start" times.

I had a couple of messages from additional guys on "Flentyofpish," but I'm not planning to respond to either of them. At least not positively. Though I kind of really want to respond to "Kiss me and then act like you dont want to kiss me again" with "Dude! Has this EVER worked?" Probably best to just leave it where it lays though. Lord have mercy on the single girl.

I might be a wee bit depressed.

2008-12-23T14:02:00.002-06:00

I fell asleep on the couch last night pretty early, then woke up around midnight, wide awake, as usual. I stayed on the couch for a couple of hours catching up with Rachel and Keith, since I had rudely fallen asleep on them earlier, and at one point, I thought I heard something outside. However, since I was at the time trapped beneath a living blanket of kitty flesh, I waited for my show to be over, then got up to move to the bed and take a peek outside to see what was up.

There it was, in the road--the lifeless body of a small animal. "Please don't let it be Dolly!" It wasn't, thank goodness, but it was the big orange stray I've seen in and around my yard occasionally, and whom I've always suspected to be related in some way to Dolly and her kittens. I carried him into my yard, wrapped him in a plastic bag, and laid him in the flower bed until the morning, when I could call dead animal pickup. (Wrong time of year to try and bury him in that cold, frozen ground.)

Then I went to bed and started crying. It all seems so futile sometimes...you use the gifts and tools God gave you to cobble together an existence the best you can...and then, for all your pains, you end up dead in the middle of the road, in the middle of the cold, cold night.

Yeah...maybe a tad depressed.

Don't worry, though...the world didn't seem QUITE so bleak come morning. (Does it ever?) The holidays are nearly here and gone. 2008 is nearly gone, and 2009 has got to be better, right? I've got rehearsals starting soon...things will be looking up. The foolishly eternal optimist in me stubbornly refuses to admit defeat. Heh.

So, what else is going on? Well, I've been in the midst of another little flurry of online male attention. I've talked to 3 guys in the last few days. (Plus Obama Guy came to church on Sunday morning to hear me sing...I still think we're destined just to be friends, though.) So, am I optimistic about any of these guys? Not so much.

We've got Guy #1--smart, rabid environmentalist, seems to be a decent guy, but can't get past my many cats. Just can't. Keeps apologizing for it. Eh, I tell him...it happens. Big props for admitting it straight out and not just pulling the old disappearing act. We're still communicating...I think we might become very casual friends. I'm cool with that--we hadn't met in person yet, so I have no reason to think there would have been the necessary physical "spark" anyway, right?

Guy #2--I think he might be certifiably insane. He's done some interesting things, been some interesting places, really REALLY wants to meet me, but...he gave me his number on Friday. I told him I wasn't sure how my weekend would play out, but if I got a chance, I'd call. I got busy and didn't call, but was planning to Monday night. Then I got a very curt email message Monday afternoon suggesting I jump in the ice-cold river. Literally. That was the whole message. I responded with a "well, I WAS planning to call you tonight, but I won't be able to, with my fingers so cold from the icy water." (Hee.) Since then he's been apologizing nonstop, trying to explain how he's just become so jaded from his online experiences, pleading that he's not really like that, and if I would only agree to meet in person, so I could see what a wonderful person he is...blah, blah, blah. Nuts, right? I told him I wasn't comfortable exploring anything further with someone who would so quickly and harshly respond to a potential slight. He's still trying to persuade me. Umm...whatever, dude.

Guy #3--tall, nice-looking, seems smart enough...but wants to know if I would enjoy being sent poetic "erotic stories" from potential suitors, as apparently he's had "mixed reactions" to this in the past. My short answer? "No." My longer answer? Involved also telling him I would most likely post snippets of any such "stories" received on my blog, for the amusement of my friends. Heh.

I know, I know...you're all upset with me for tipping my hand before I got the love poetry to share with you. My apologies.

Alert readers may be wondering what happened to the "Male Me." Well, join the club...he disappeared into the ether, and I have absolutely NO idea why. Asshole. (Unless he's dead...in which case I'm very sorry for calling him an asshole. Don't take that out on my karma, please, universe.)

That's about all that's going on. I have been and still am dealing with car repairs (NO fun, the week before Christmas--goodbye, Christmas bonus), so I think my family may come here on Christmas Day, for the first time ever. Don't know how that will go. I'm trying to imagine us all comfortably enjoying a meal in my tiny house, with its limited seating...maybe we'll just eat out. What's open on Christmas, anyway?

I did receive a nice package of goodies from New Guy today. I got a little misty, until I opened the card. "Fondly, New Guy." FONDLY? I know he is trying not to lead me on in any way, but geez. For the record, I boldly signed HIS card, "Love, Liz." Heh. Still, it's nice to know he still thinks of me. FONDLY.

I knew it would happen eventually.

2008-12-19T09:39:00.003-06:00

I'm disappointed in President-Elect Barack Obama. Rick Warren? Really? What, was Fred Phelps not available?

Okay, a bit harsh, but...look, I get the inclusiveness thing. I do. And for the most part, I'm in agreement with Obama's approach, but asking someone who has publicly compared homosexuals to pedophiles to give the invocation at what is possibly the most historic inauguration in history? It smacks to me of the worst sort of pandering to the religious right, and haven't we done enough pandering to them the last 8 years?

You want inclusive? How about Archbishop Desmond Tutu? (I will confess here to having a teeny bit of a crush on Des--he's adorable AND inspiring. It's irresistible. I saw him speak in person once, and let me tell you...goodness just FLOWS out of him. And yet, he's wonderfully self-deprecating and funny.) He knows all about inclusion and history-making.

Or hey, how about a WOMAN? Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori, right there at the National Cathedral. She knows from inclusion and history, too.

Okay, clearly I have a preference for Episopalians and mitre hats, but...how about Jim Wallis, author of "God's Politics"? He's got a lot of good stuff to say.

Well, I could go on, but what's the point? I'll just stick my fingers in my ears at that point of the ceremony and do a little "la, la, la." I guess I could throw a shoe towards the screen. Maybe a six-inch red patent leather drag queen pump. Heh.

The more things change...

2008-12-16T14:40:00.002-06:00

So, I'm now reading "A People's History of the United States" by Howard Zinn. Have you all read this? Why not? Go and get it now. It should be required reading.

I was struck this morning by this passage: Around the same time (1730s), in New York, an election pamphlet urged New York voters to join "Shuttle" the weaver, "Plane" the joiner, "Drive" the carter, "Mortar" the mason, "Tar" the mariner, "Snip" the tailor, "Smallrent" the fair-minded landlord, and "John Poor" the tenant, against "Gripe the Merchant, Squeeze the Shopkeeper, Spintext and Quible the Lawyer." Hey--where's "Joe" the plumber?

Seriously, though...everyone needs to hear the "unsanitized" version of history at some point, don't you think, as they're blissfully celebrating Columbus Day, for example?

In other news, it is cold here. We've had a little ice, we've had a little snow....we've HAD IT. Yes, I am thankful we're not suffering more ice storm-related power outages (and feeling great empathy for all the people in the northeast who are), and I'm thankful we're not in single digits or worse, but...it's not even winter yet, technically. Bah.

I'll probably never be an Orthodox Jew

2008-12-12T09:45:00.002-06:00

Or a Muslim, raised by Sufis in Morocco. I'll certainly never be a conjoined twin. I didn't live through the Dust Bowl, or endure the hardships of rural life in the previous century. I don't know how many people I'll meet in heaven, or if I'll ever live in another country.

But I have experienced all these things, through the magical power of literature! It always amazes me to hear people say, "Oh, I don't read." Or even, "I only read NON-fiction." What's wrong with these people, I ask you? (I know I'm pretty much preaching to the choir here. Heh.) What riches they're missing. And to you non-fiction only readers, here's a tip: something doesn't have to be strictly "true" to be full of "truths." (See, for example: the Bible. Sorry, fundamentalists.)

So, what am I getting at here? Well, this is my rambling and round-about way of saying that last week in the mail I received my free (in exchange for reviewing it on my blog) copy of "Who By Fire," by Diana Spechler, thanks to Lara of Red Red Whine fame. (Thanks, Lara and Diana!) I continued racing through "The Girls" (see above re: conjoined twins) and then dived into it.

And the verdict? Thumbs up.

Basically, the story is of a nominally Jewish family, struggling to deal with the tragic disappearance of a 6-year-old child, some 13 years earlier. The family members have reacted to the loss in widely varying ways; the remaining daughter, Bits, is very promiscuous, while the son, Ash, has immersed himself completely into Orthodox Judaism, going so far as to enroll in a yeshiva in Israel. The father has abandoned the family, and the mother has resisted all attempts to convince her to "move on," a process made more difficult by the fact that Alena's body was never found.

Until, finally, it seems...it has been. The mother tells Bits that Alena's remains have been found, and lays upon her the responsibility for bringing her brother home from Israel, where, she is convinced, he has become a member of a cult. And off the story goes.

I won't spoil any more of the plot, but let's just say that, while their lives are not neatly tied up in little bows, the ending does leave you with a feeling of hope, that these people just might be able to move forward to happier, healthier lives.

It's a very good read (I actually stayed up pretty late last night finishing off the remaining chapters), but also...it made me think. (Gasp!) About the sometimes blurry line between "religious community" and "cult." How overly strict adherence to religious dogma can leave you neither "holy" nor "whole." How guilt can consume and paralyze. The dangers of attempting to fill a hole in unhealthy ways. And here's a line straight from the book: "Here's what happens when you try to rescue someone. You find out you're the one who need rescuing."

Summation? I found it both entertaining and thought-provoking, and I look forward to reading more from this author.

As, indeed, I look forward to a lifetime of more reading, period. 'Cause, seriously, "I don't read"? Can't get behind that.

The contents of my brain

2008-12-09T10:07:00.002-06:00

I'm just going to spew little bits of this and that. So as not to offend your delicate sensibilities, I will put it in the form of a bulleted list, which, while lazy, will at least be easier to read than one ginormous run-on paragraph. Which is sort of how my brain feels sometimes.

In no apparent order:

I went to a party this weekend (happy birthday, George), and took a hot, cheesy dip that will now be my standard party offering, I think. I've had trouble coming up with a "signature" dish for this purpose--and I've tried such labor-intensive things as homemade potato salad and hand-rolled tamales--but this one fits the bill. I think if we had not been in (relatively) polite society, someone might have licked the dish. And it was so easy! (Goat cheese, cream cheese, shredded parmesan/asiago/romano blend and minced sundried tomatoes. Mix well and bake. You're welcome. Make a lot.) George is now old enough to run for president, and promises to make me the Minister of Cheese. Or the Cheese Czar.
May I just respectfully ask Illinois Governor Blagojevich to go f*ck himself? What a douchebag.
How 'bout them Sooners? Now, I'm not the biggest OU football fan in the world, by any means. I don't have a "Boomer Sooner" ringtone on my cellphone or anything, but if I'm home and a game's on and I don't have anything more pressing to do, I'll watch. And this season has been fun to watch--I love a good offense. Defensive battles just make me nervous. "Score, somebody, for the love of god, score!" Give me a nice big blowout every time. If that makes me a poor sport, too bad. The Sooners set all kinds of records with their offense this year, so...whoo hoo!
Do your hands look like they belong to a lizard? Every winter my hands suffer from extreme dryness. (Damn the handwashing!) I've tried any number of lotions and creams, to little avail. You know what helps? Plain old petroleum jelly. Just lather it on several times a day. I guess I was always leery of doing this during the day for fear it would leave my hands feeling too greasy, but you know what? It doesn't. It soaks right in. After two days my hands look and feel better than they have in years.
For the record, I consider myself a liberal, and despite what the media would have you believe, we're NOT all outraged at Obama's cabinet picks. I never thought he was all that liberal, despite what Limbaugh and his ilk would have us think, and I always expected that he would govern as a centrist and a pragmatist. It's what he said he would do. And I'm okay with that. I trust that he will guide us further left than where we've been for the last 8 years, and, given the major, major problems this country is currently facing, I think the center is the place to start. It took both sides of the aisle to get this f*cked up, and it will take both sides of the aisle to fix things. I reserve the right, of course, to be unhappy with him later, if it comes to that, but for now, I think he's doing just fine. Plus he's brilliant. I'm going to take comfort in that for a while.
This Saturday is the crazy cat ladies' Christmas lunch. I will have boatloads of Christmas spirit for those couple of hours. I also very much enjoyed filling a couple of stockings for the elderly clients of a local senior service agency. I just can't quite seem to keep the spirit going. I have a theory: Christmas is magical when you're a child. The magic fades with time, though there are certainly always flashes of it, but it never truly returns until you have children of your own. And if you don't have children, well...then you have to settle for the flashes. That is harder some times than others. And hardest of all when you live alone. That's my theory. You may feel free to disagree.
My local ABC affiliate preempted last week's "Pushing Daisies" to air an Oak Ridge Boys Christmas special. I did not know this until I sat down to watch it a couple of nights ago (I had recorded it, and was even staying spoiler-free by not reading the TWoP recap). WTF? You bastards, just because it's been cancelled doesn't mean that some of us don't want to savor every little scrap that's left! Argh.
We've had a couple of read-through/walk-throughs for the play, and now we adjourn until after the holidays. I think it's a great cast, and is going to be great fun.
I saw the dog formerly known as Wiley the Terrible (while at the aforementioned birthday party) and he pretended that he still remembered me. Maybe he still does (which Julie his owner insists must be true). And maybe I'm just the only fool sticking my head in his face and encouraging him to kiss me. Heh.
My boss is in love. With the sweet tabby kitty mentioned in the last post. IN LOVE. He can't take him home for fear of upsetting his wife and their two snippy female cats, but he's quite smitten. He even gave him a work-related name, similar to the one given to the Cat Formerly Known as Lil Mama. It's very funny. He's not been around cats much previously, and he didn't have any idea they could be so affectionate. ("He's like a dog!") The one good thing about having [scary number redacted] cats is that you really get to experience the full spectrum of cat personalities. They're so...varied.
I've been dreaming about some of my past pets lately. I think this may be because the current commercial for "Befreze" candles features a dog that is the spitting image (actually, no...it's the mirror image) of the first dog I had as an "adult." (I was in college when I got her, so...technically a grown-up, but....) Mo lived a good, long life and was maybe the smartest, funniest dog in history. The BFF insists that she had extra facial muscles, 'cause she could pull a look like no other dog ever could. Anyway, if you see the fuzzy black-and-white terrier mix in the "Befreze" candle commercial...I think they somehow cloned my dead dog! And I want her back!
The Cat Formerly Known, etc. is QUITE put out by the new kitty, by the way. He's invaded HER turf, and she is not happy. I've tried to reassure her that she is still the alpha, and right now she's sleeping peacefully on my desk, but...there has been some hissing and spitting. Keeps the work day lively!
Today is the one-year anniversary of the Great Ice Storm of Ought-Seven. Man, oh man, keep that icy stuff away from us this year, please. Our trees can't take another hit like that. Not to mention our psyches.
I think we've decided to keep the gift-giving in my family limited to small, stocking stuffer things. My suggestion, actually. Since we'd pretty much devolved into a wholesale gift card exchange, anyway...what the heck. Keep your money and buy yourself something, if you want. I'd like to tuck my Christmas bonus away into savings this year, personally. (What's left after I neuter Pete the Kitten, that is.) This economy worries me.
I haven't heard a peep from the Male Me. I really can't figure him out. Gah. And I know, if I give in and call him, that he will return the call promptly and act like talking to me is the most fun thing ever. He just never INITIATES the call. What's that about?
My Christmas cacti are starting to bloom. Right on schedule.
Knowing that my books are once again shelved alphabetically is very comforting to me. Probably TOO comforting. But sometimes giving in to the OCD just feels nice. Like when I occasionally grab some paper towels and let myself scrub the dried soap dribbles off the sink in a public restroom--aahhhh. Better. (I only do this in PRIVATE public restrooms. Can't let anyone else see the extent of the crazy!)
I've been missing New Guy a lot lately. Which is sort of ironic, since we NEVER spent any holidays together--he was always off with his kids. But I guess I knew the trip would end, and then he'd come back, and now? This particular trip isn't going to end. I suppose that's why I'm sad. Sigh.
I really should wrap this up (are you still reading? good for you), and I refuse to end on that sad note, so...I woke up this morning to find Pete the Kitten snuggling next to me on the bed. It's the first time that's happened--he generally prefers the company of the other cats, so...yay! Not that I NEED another cat on the bed, but maybe there's hope for his socialization yet.

Congratulations! You made it through the drivel. Don't let anyone tell you you haven't accomplished something today. Hee.

This five-day week is crawling.

2008-12-04T13:47:00.002-06:00

Shouldn't it be time for a weekend already? Sigh.

Sorry to end the last post on a downer note, but...sometimes it just is what it is. I mean, I loves me a four-day weekend, and it's always good to be pleasantly busy while not feeling overloaded, and some alone time is a good and necessary thing, but...sometimes I want to go out to eat or crash on the couch WITH somebody. A special somebody, you know? In some ways it's particularly hard to be single during the holidays, especially when you've reached the age where the vast majority of your friends are encoupled, or have children, or both. You can't just call someone up to do something on the spur of the moment when their lives are necessarily complicated by the schedules of others. So...it is what it is. I'm used to it, but sometimes it makes me a little sad, and last weekend was one of those times. Moving on...

No news to report on the dating front. The Male Me has me completely confused. We still haven't met, and I'm not sure why. When we do talk, said conversations generally instigated by me, we have very lively discussions, he tells me how great he thinks I am, says he wants to get together/talk again soon....and then I don't hear from him for a few days. I know he's dealing with an ailing mother and a new job, but I can't help but think that if he REALLY wanted to meet, it would have happened by now. So, for now at least, I think I need to cross him off the list of possibilities.

I still have sporadic contact with Obama Guy, but I just don't get the feeling there's any romantic possibility there. He did offer to make me dinner at his house some night soon, but...I think we'll just be political buddies. And even if I was feeling overwhelming romantic chemistry, his work/school schedule is a bit insane. I'm not sure when we'd ever see each other. Plus he wants to move to another part of the country when he finishes school in a few months, and I'll be damned if I'll get emotionally attached again to a guy who's not sticking around.

Of course, I could wink back at the ultra-conservative guy with bad grammar and spelling who used to enjoy spending time with "friends and family but lost them and i am left all alone. No drama here and not looking for it." What does that mean, exactly? He lost ALL of his friends and family? Dude, what did you DO? I think that's a "no, thanks" for me.

We had our first rehearsal for the play last night, and I think it's going to be great fun. Unfortunately (for me, at least), we're not really getting into rehearsals until after the holidays, but it's something to look forward to. Which I am.

My workplace, like my home, is being taken over by stray cats. Turns out if you cut a couple of kitty doors for your official work cat, word gets out and soon you have plenty of unofficial cats roaming your warehouse, as well. Most of them are just neighborhood opportunists, I think, looking for a free meal. One big orange fellow is pretty much a fixture--he's definitely wild, and possibly a littermate of the kitty formerly known as Lil' Mama, who now has a work-related name that I won't reveal here. And two days ago a stray showed up who is breaking my heart. He is the SWEETEST THING EVER, a big brown tabby with comically large feet, and I MUST FIND HIM A REAL HOME. THAT ISN'T MINE. Anyone interested? I'll tie a big bow around his neck and everything. Heh.

Lazy post-Thanksgiving post

2008-12-01T13:50:00.002-06:00

I know that over-reliance on bulleted lists is a sure sign of a lazy, unmotivated blogger. So, here we go!

How I spent my long weekend:

Drove to my sister's house for Thanksgiving lunch with the family. Ate too much, as per usual. Resisted taking home pie, as per usual. Had a raging craving for pie several hours later, as per usual. Pleasant, uneventful.
Organized my bookshelves on Friday. Was in pain for two days afterwards. So many books. So much lifting and carrying. So much bending over and crouching. So much dusting and alphabetizing and...if you can believe it, actually setting aside a large number of books to be given to charity. I haven't willingly let go of a book since...well, ever. But I was completely out of shelf space, so out went most of the science fiction books from a college phase, and the "historical romance" books from junior high. All the Anne Rice--gone. (Kept the Stephen King, though.) Oh, don't worry...I still have PLENTY left to read. Heh.
Crashed on the couch for what was left of Friday.
Cleaned the house on Saturday morning, treated myself to an Indian lunch buffet (where one of the sharply-dressed phalanx of waiters had the great decency to at least pretend to flirt with me), and then braved a trip to Big Box Mart for $100 of essential...crap. I guess everyone else bought their crap during the potentially lethal (seriously, what is with people?) doorbuster hours, 'cause the place was the least crowded it's ever been on a Saturday afternoon. (What qualifies as "essential crap," you're asking? Cat litter, cat food, cat treats, shower curtain liner, water pitcher purification filter, motor oil, duct tape, 9v battery, cheap clunky black shoes...you know, "crap.")
Crashed on the couch for what was left of Saturday.
Watched both "A Diva's Christmas Carol" and "Ebbie"--thank you, Lifetime Television for Women and Gay Men! Those are my favorites!
Made two trips per day to the office to feed/check on work cat, who repaid me by attempting to skewer my leg with her claws to keep me from leaving. Poor baby. (For the record, she has been inside ALL DAY today, basking in the glow of human companionship. Either that or a soft comfy chair.)
Sang at church Sunday morning. Made Cute Church Guy's mother cry. (In a good way.)
Crashed on the couch for what was left of Sunday.
Ate leftovers.
Was lonely.

That's all I've got, folks.

Yay!

2008-11-25T14:05:00.003-06:00

I am cast in the play. Whoo hoo! We'll be having a really light rehearsal schedule for the first few weeks, so it won't occupy ALL my time, but will definitely give me a focus and an outlet. I am most pleased. (Thank you, Julie, for not keeping me in suspense.)

In other news, I actually talked to Male Me a couple of times yesterday. I decided that, since I couldn't email him (due to his profile being removed) in response to his "I hope you're not offended..." email, I would just leave him a quick little voicemail assuring him that I was in no way offended, that I wished him and his family well, and he should feel free to get back in touch whenever he felt like he could.

Which was, apparently, about four hours after I left the message. He just had to call, he said, "because your message was so sweet and sincere...and somehow also funny--how do you do that?" Well, Male Me, that's sort of me in a nutshell. Heh. We talked for a while, and then again for a while after callbacks...talking to me lightened his mood, he said. Awww....

Of course, we still haven't MET, so I don't know if he'll pass the "physical chemistry" test (or if I will, for him), to say nothing of the "stubby fingers test" (hee), so...verdict still out, but he at least seems somewhat...captivated. Which does feel good, I must tell you, for someone who was rejected out-of-hand by the entire speed-dating community. (Okay, I know it was only those particular seven guys, but who doesn't love some good hyperbole? I know I love it more than anything else in the whole world!)

And in other news...well, there is no other news, really, except we all got free turkeys at work today. What does a vegetarian do with a free turkey, you ask? She gives it to her parents, as usual, and wonders why that vendor can't give out free broccoli-rice casserole or something. Hee.

2008-11-24T09:55:00.002-06:00

So, what's been going on the last few days, you're asking? Dealing with any more rejection?

Well, no. Not YET, at any rate.

Since I last posted, I:

Had dinner with one of my college roommates. Great fun! We rarely see each other, as he lives on the west coast, but when we do...it's like not a day has passed. I miss my college friends.
Received my official "you have no matches, BUT we're happy to inform you that your next speed-dating event is on us" email from the speed-dating people. I have been strictly forbidden (by the BFF) to take them up on this offer. Oh, silly BFF...doesn't he know that forbidding someone to do something is pretty much ensuring that there is nothing more in the world they will want to do than that which has been forbidden? Heh.
Auditioned for a play. Callbacks are tonight. Cross your fingers for me. I NEED some sort of outlet right now, as the holidays, lonely and sans New Guy (or, you know, an even newer new guy), loom. Plus, it looks like a very fun play. And I haven't worked with this particular director in a while. (She reads my blog sometimes, so...hi, Julie! Cast me!)
Organized an outing for a few of us after auditions, to my favorite Vietnamese vegetarian restaurant. I talked everyone into ordering from the back page of the menu (far, far from the "sweet-and-sour" section) and everyone agreed that the "crack noodles" are indeed the best thing ever. I have hope for the future of our nation. (Hee!)
Sent a very brief "hope you're well" email to the Male Me. He replied with a very nice "I haven't forgotten about you, but I'm completely distracted/occupied with work and family, and I plan to call you again...someday" email...then promptly took his profile down. Hmm. Not too promising in the short term, for sure.
Attended a readers' club meeting. My pile of borrowed books is now looming large, and I hope the allure of unread treasures will help me break my still-ongoing MSNBC addiction. Not that I intend to completely break up with Keith and Rachel, but...books are good, too.
Discovered a drawback to turning a previously feral cat who hunted her own food into an office cat with kitty-door access to our warehouse: guess who has to has to clean up her culinary "treasures" regularly? This morning I had to scoop up an entire, gnawed-on...carcass of some sort (chicken? rabbit?) that looked like it had, at some point, been buried in the mud. Ick. (It was also very large. I don't know how the hell she got it through that tiny cat door with only her mouth.) There have also been several unfortunate members of the rodent and bird families. I know all about the "circle of life"--I just don't like seeing it played out so close to home.
Started watching as many cheesy holiday-themed movies as possible. In case there's another ice storm this year, and my cable goes out again, I don't want my minimum requirement of festive pap to go unfulfilled yet again. Last night I watched the first half of "Snow Globe"--wherein a young woman goes magically into the world of a Christmas snow globe each evening. I want to go to Snow Globe Land--it's so festive and colorful! Sadly, I fell asleep and missed the ending, but I'm pretty sure it all worked out, and she pleased both herself and her overbearing family by falling in love with the new guy next door, leaving the cheerful inhabitants of the snow globe to celebrate Christmas all year long, complete with roast goose and yams from their adorable magic oven.

That's about it. I'm looking forward to the upcoming long weekend, aren't you?

The ultimate humiliation

2008-11-20T09:03:00.002-06:00

I received NO speed-dating matches. Now, it's not like I felt any particular spark with any of them, but still...not ONE of those losers wanted to get to know me? How nice for my ego.

My friend, on the other hand, was contacted by all but one of them... the one holdout, of course, being the one she really wanted. The true irony here is that I only went because she didn't want to go alone, and I was being a good friend. See where that gets me? Rejected by losers.

I'm also remembering what it was like to go out dancing with this particular friend, "back in the day." Now, mind you, this is far enough "back" that I, too, was pretty smokin' hot, but still...she ALWAYS got asked to dance, first and most often. One night, she and I and another friend went out, and agreed that the one asked to dance first would be bought a shot by the other two, with the caveat that the two "losers" would get to pick the shot. She was asked right away, of course, and demanded her winning shot. So, with her out of earshot, we went to the bar and asked the bartender, what's the nastiest shot you can think of? "A Prairie Fire," came the answer. And what's in that? "Equal parts tequila and tabasco." Perfect! She slammed it down, got a hilarious (to us) look on her face, and just managed to croak out, "What WAS that?"

Of course, being uber-popular at a bar isn't always without its own punishment. She was purchased shots and drinks by so many guys attempting to impress her that she finished the evening puking in the backseat of her own car. Heh.

Another time, she was determined to show us that she, too, knew the sting of rejection. "I'm going to go ask some guy to dance that I KNOW will turn me down." She surveyed the scene, picked a guy who was literally knee-deep in girls clamoring for his attention, marched over, and asked him to dance. He said no, thanks. She came back, gloating a bit. "See? I get turned down sometimes." Fast forward five or ten minutes. Here comes the guy. "I feel so bad for saying no...would you like to dance?" Hee!

So, I guess what I'm saying is...I should have known not to go speed-dating with this friend! And, if I want to massage my own bruised ego a bit, I can tell myself that all the guys knew we were there together, and just didn't want to pick both of us, for fear that it might cause problems down the road. Yeah, that's it...if she hadn't been there, I'd have been the most popular girl in the room! (And yes, I know...denial is not a river in Egypt. Heh.)

Now, let me just say, it's hardly her fault that she's gorgeous AND outgoing and funny. And, truthfully, being the most popular girl at the ball doesn't always work out so well, long term. She's had a couple of really bad marriages, and is currently walking the challenging road of single motherhood with a precocious young daughter. I'm proud of the job she's doing, and I don't begrudge her the attention.

But couldn't ONE of those guys have picked me, too? Wah!

Quick update

2008-11-18T15:08:00.003-06:00

For some reason I am irritable as all hell this afternoon. Maybe because I have been besieged with idiots today. Sigh.

To catch you up with my ever-so-exciting dating life:

I have not yet come face-to-face with myself. Bachelor #1 had to go out-of-town over the weekend, and I didn't hear from him last night. I called him on my lunch hour, and it seems he came back from his trip to find that his elderly mother, who has Alzheimer's and a recently broken leg, is not doing at all well, and he needs to focus on that for a bit. Understandable. He insists that he still wants to meet, as soon as is feasible, but Mom comes first. As she should. So I don't know yet whether I like "myself." Heh.
My friend and I went speed-dating last night. It was okay. Nothing spectacular. A couple of guys seemed maybe a little interesting, but I have no idea whether any of them had any interest in me, since the brand-spanking-new speed-dating coordinator hasn't yet completed her part of the equation, thus enabling us to all go online and indicate our match preferences. There were only 15 or so of us there, so I don't know what's taking her so long. (Add her to the list of idiots making me irritable today.) I'm not really emotionally invested in the outcome, to be sure...I just don't like people not doing their jobs quickly and efficiently. And my friend is going CRAZY asking me if I've heard anything yet. She must have liked someone more than she let on. Hee.
I talked to New Guy for a quite a while after I got home last night. He's still dealing with the fall-out from his burglary. The insurance company wants a detailed list of serial numbers for the stolen items. Which information he kept carefully documented on his computer...which was stolen. Don't know how that will all sort out. He did discover how the thief got in, though...they came up and over his second-floor balcony and forced open the door to his bedroom. Nice.
I'm a little discouraged that I got more enjoyment from listening to him talk about his insurance hassles than I did from my conversations with any of the seven guys at speed-dating. Sigh. Save me, Bachelor #1, save me! Please turn out to be wonderful in every way. (You know...like me. Heh.)

And he is me.

2008-11-13T09:15:00.002-06:00

I spoke to Bachelor #1 on the phone last night, and...I think he's the male version of me. By which I mean he has all the same grammar peeves (including imply/infer), is partial to ellipses in casual writing, has the same fairly wide-ranging cultural knowledge (a Trivial Pursuit gauntlet has already been thrown down), knows he's smart, and is thrilled to meet someone who "gets" his references (including one to Lupe Velez, which I, of course, got instantly).

We'll probably meet in person sooner rather than later, but...I can't help but wonder (speaking of cultural references, here's a twofer)...what if it's like that Seinfeld episode where Jerry met his "female me," played by Janeane Garafalo, and while it was great for a while, he eventually realized..."I don't like myself."

Seriously, if we ended up together, would we turn out to be the most insufferable couple on the planet? Would some weird synergy have everyone around us saying "Oh, THOSE two, they think they know everything." To which we'd respond...what are you IMPLYING? Are we to INFER that you think there's something wrong with that? Hee.

I don't get how this works.

2008-11-12T09:50:00.002-06:00

This online dating thing. Why do I go days and weeks without even a profile view, then get contacted by four guys all in the space of a single hour? I think maybe flentyofpish rotates the profiles around, and eventually you come back to the top, or something. That's all I can think of to explain my inbox yesterday.

So, yes...there might be some interesting new stories in the days to come. Or not. But I'm sure you're all tired of election-related blog posts, so I will spare you there. Though there is plenty I could say about Sa...no, never mind.

My inbox.

The first message came from a man who is actually articulate and funny! I know! He used the word "erudite" correctly! In a flentyofpish email! Am I done with the exclamation marks? Yes...I think so. But it was exciting. Heh. He seemed very impressed with MY profile, which only goes to further prove how intelligent he is, right?

Here's a snippet from his first email:

So nice to see an erudite profile with nary a "Me and him" to be found. If I see one more confusion over there/their/they're I may just lose all hope and curl up in a ball.

May I add, that your pic is pretty easy on the old peepers, as well.*

*Apparently I have morphed into some 1940's gumshoe tonight.

Seems promising, no? We have exchanged a couple more messages, and he doesn't get any less literate with time. Heh.

Then I received another, from a 62-year-old widower. At first it made me laugh out loud (though not in a good way), then it just made me want to cry. It did contain this little gem, though, which I think BFF and I will be using for some time to come:

"your profile stuck out at me like a thumb"

Bwaaaa! I think I snorted as I read it out loud to BFF. Then, sadly, the message became about his desire to not die all alone, completely friendless, and I just got sad. Not sad enough to go out with him, mind you, but sad nonetheless. There's just something very poignant about someone all alone, who never planned to be alone, but who is now trolling dating sites, trying to find someone interested in his offer to warm them up a quick bite at his apartment, then maybe search the internet or watch TV with him. Okay, as I type it out, it sounds as much creepy as poignant, but it really came across as sad to me. Maybe I'm just premenstrual.

Then came another message from a guy who I would probably find interesting if I wasn't already enamored with the literary stylings of Guy #1, so I think I'll put him on the back burner for a bit. He did make an appropriate "Deliverance" reference, so he gets bonus points for that.

And, last but not least, there was a simple winky emoticon from Guy #4, who, of course, is the one who I would find most attractive if I was going simply on looks. Which I'm not. Yet. I mean, EVER. Heh.

And, because it's always feast or famine around here, next week I'm going speed-dating with a friend. Only because she really wanted to go, but refused to do it alone. So, like a good wingwoman, I agreed to go, too. I've done it before a couple of times, and I found it equal parts painless and fruitless, but...what the heck. I agreed to do it, and I will.

That's about all the news from LizLand. Cross your fingers that maybe one of these guys will at least buy me a friggin' cup of coffee.

I'm glad it's over, but...

2008-11-06T13:55:00.002-06:00

...what do I do with my time now, if I'm not checking pollster.com every hour? Heh.

Okay, a few impressions from Election Eve.

I met up with Obama Guy at one of the bigger watch parties downtown. Yes, despite the fact that I live in the Reddest State in the Country (and if you think I'm not depressed by that, well...you must be new here), there are a few of us here who are...in our left minds. Heh. (I refer to us now as the 33%ers.) It was nothing like being in Grant Park or Times Square, mind you, but there were at least 200-300 people there, and they were ready to party.

It got really exciting when the first East Coast returns started to come in, and then less so as the red states took the lead for a while, and then...well, was there not just the LONGEST span of time where NOTHING happened? At one point I remarked to Obama Guy that I needed SOME state to be called, somewhere, anywhere, or I was going to explode. Fortunately we had beer and pizza (thanks, generous guy named Mark who had the pizza delivered for us) to distract us a bit. Then it seemed like it just happened out of nowhere, really, didn't it? No itemized list of the states that had been called, just suddenly..."Barack Obama Projected Winner." And then pandemonium, of course. Hugging and crying and screaming.

We did a little dancing to "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" and I believe there was a conga line formed at one point. There was a lifetime cut-out of Barack onstage, and I was really hoping that someone might send him out crowd-surfing, but I was disappointed. Heh.

It didn't really feel completely real to me, until I saw John McCain pop up on the screen to give his concession speech, which I found very eloquent and gracious, and reminiscent of McCain v.2000. I will be honest and admit that the room did break into some light booing once--when he mentioned his running mate. Someone parroted Barack's diplomatic response to booing at his rallies: "Barack would say don't boo, just vote." To which, I confess, I responded "We already voted. We get to boo a little bit now!" (Sorry, I just CAN'T STAND that woman. And apparently I am not alone.) I might feel bad about this, except for the slight audible booing (more than once) from McCain's own crowd during his speech. Moving on.

It was time for the man himself to speak.

The most moving thing for me was watching the faces of the middle-aged and older African-Americans near me, as they cried along with Oprah and Jesse Jackson. Plenty of us paler folks were teary, too, of course...but knowing that some of these people lived through segregation in a truly personal way and were now seeing something most of them never thought would happen in their lifetimes...wow.

And, may I just say...Joe the Who now? Let's hear it for 106-year-old Ann Nixon Cooper! (I read an interview with her today, and, may I just point out that Barack's campaign called to let her know that he would be mentioning her prominently in his speech, and didn't just spring it on her like a certain someone did to a certain "plumber.")

I think my personal favorite moment was when a black woman nearby shared that her teen-aged son (hovering behind her all "oh man, don't embarrass me, Mom") had just told her that he couldn't wait to tell his own kids about it someday, and Mom gave the kid a look and said "now, let's not be in any hurry to start on those kids, okay?" Hee!

All in all, it was a beautiful night. A good night to be both a Democrat and a democrat.

So, I feel you wondering, did the beauty and emotion of the evening sweep over me and Obama Guy and carry us off in a blaze of passion? Well, no. We had a good time, I like him, there was a hug and a kiss on the cheek before we parted ways, but I'm not sure either of us is feeling particularly romantic at this point. I think we should try going out on a real, non-election-related date and see if we have anything left to talk about.

WHOO HOO!

2008-11-05T08:42:00.003-06:00

I would like to summarize my feelings on yesterday's landslide victory, the moving and emotional watch party I attended, my hope for the future, but...all I can come up with right now is....SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!I'll try to be more articulate later.

I Voted

2008-11-04T09:18:00.002-06:00

I decided to go before work this morning. It took about 25 minutes. That is approximately 24.75 minutes longer than it's ever taken before at this particular polling place. Go, democracy! Of course, seeing as how I'm in Oklahoma, reddest of the red states, none of my votes probably "mattered." But you know what? They "mattered" to me. I got a little thrill, connecting that broken line next to Obama/Biden. We're making history, one way or the other. Now I just have to hope it's the history I want. Heh.

Do you want to hear a sad story? I called New Guy last night to wish him happy birthday and see if he got his birthday present, and he was sitting in a daze in his apartment, waiting for the police to come. No sign of forced entry, but somehow someone got in and took ALL his electronic devices, including his computer and his son's xbox and playstation. Plus a power tool or two. ON HIS BIRTHDAY! I suspect his apartment management. Or the UPS man who delivered his birthday present, or both. Really, wouldn't that be a hideously ingenious plan? A crooked UPS man hooks up with a crooked apartment manager and wipes out the tenants? They'd have built-in alibis for why they were hanging around the apartment, and a tailor-made getaway truck. Who'd even give a second glance to a UPS man carrying boxes? I'm very sad for New Guy. Fortunately, he's insured, but it still sucks. And if the UPS guy was involved, then I feel really, really bad, since the UPS guy was there delivering MY gift to him. Some days you can't catch a break.

I think I'll be attending a watch party tonight. I would say "with" Obama Guy, but since we'll probably just meet there, I don't think it counts as a date.

I've pretty much cleared the man queue again, otherwise. I've decided, too, that I need to clear up something in my online profile, assuming any of these last few guys even took the time to READ it. "Politically progressive" does not mean "I encourage redneck ultra-conservatives to contact me." Maybe I need to change my online name to "Lizzy Liberal" or something.

And a Happy Halloween to you

2008-10-31T12:16:00.004-06:00

So, let's talk for a minute about that reprehensible ad Elizabeth Dole is running in North Carolina, accusing her (Christian) opponent of being a "godless American." I find it reprehensible on two fronts: a) she's flagrantly lying about her opponent, a lie she knows will carry particular weight in that part of the country, and b) so what if her opponent WERE an atheist? Is this not still America? Do we not have the right to believe or disbelieve as we choose? Are atheists not entitled to equal rights and representation under the law? Aarggh!

I say this as a church-going Christian--I have friends who are atheists! Even worse--I have dated Muslims! One of which was an Iranian! There now, I've probably ruined any chance I had of running for national office. (Well, any chance I had left after all the drugs I did in the 80s.) What a relief. Now the pressure is off. Heh.

Okay, let's move away from the political aspects of the ad, and on to what really caught my attention. Before I actually saw the ad, I heard it described on TV, blah blah blah, ending with a disembodied female voice declaring "There is no God." You're supposed to believe, of course, that it is the voice of Dole's opponent.

Any die-hard "Arrested Development" fans in the house? The rest of this is for you.

Remember the episode where the Bluths took part in the "living art" pageant (much like the one in Stars Hollow that featured our Gilmore girls)? George (on a one-day furlough from prison) portrayed God giving the spark of life to Adam (a denim cut-offs-clad George Michael, embarrassed by the size of his codpiece-hee) in Michelangelo's "The Creation of Adam." Only George took the opportunity to try to escape and when the curtains were drawn back--God was missing. Remember the wonderful older character actress proclaiming, with just the perfect amount of horror and melodrama, "THERE IS NO GOD!"? (It may have been the best line delivery ever, in my opinion.)

How funny would it have been if they had simply lifted that little audio clip for the hateful Liddy Doenges ad? (Not funny enough to make up for the ad's very existence, mind you, but still.)

Sadly, I saw the actual ad last night, and they did not. Their "there is no God" actress had nowhere near the delivery of Wonderful Older Character Actress.

Great, now I'm missing "Arrested Development" AND pissed off at sleazy politicians. Thanks, Liddy.

I am ready for this election to be over. I might go to an election night watch party, though...with Obama Guy, who has resurfaced, to some extent. We'll see.

Happy Halloween, everyone! I'm thinking of curling up on the couch tonight and watching something terrifying...like maybe a Palin rally. Eeeeeeek!

Snippets

2008-10-28T09:49:00.002-06:00

So, what's been going on in my life? Nothing major, I assure you. Let's bullet it.

Have been watching MSNBC obsessively, with cautious optimism.
Am fielding a sudden flurry of renewed interest from men on "flentyofpish." Here's a juicy nugget from an email: "Hi, my name is Billy. You are very attractive. I want to spend my time making love to you." I really, really wanted to email back: "Don't you have a job?" or "How much of your time? 'Cause my schedule's a little crowded." But I didn't. I also did not respond to a second inquiry from the man "in a loveless marriage." I have chatted a bit with some other guys--nothing too exciting so far. It does do my ego some slight bit of good to keep getting told I'm "hot," though. Heh.
Heard from Obama Guy today. He wants to get together and "catch up." I said fine, call me. What the hell, right?
Heard on the radio this morning that a well-known evolutionary biologist will be in town giving a lecture in a few days, "Our Inner Fish." I am thinking of telling the McCain Supporter that if he truly wants to see me again, he will go to that lecture with me. Hee! (Our "creationism" v. "evolution" discussion was actually sparked by something I said about humans no longer having gills. Him: "What?!")
"Crairie Pome Hompanion" was great fun. Two hours plus, with only a five-minute intermission, but it sped by. Glad I went!
I was afraid I might not be able to go anywhere over the weekend, as I was nursing the tail-end of what was apparently a nasty little intestinal bug I picked up somewhere. I felt okay, unless or until I was so foolish as to attempt to actually put food into my stomach, each such attempt being rewarded with literally gut-wrenching stomach spasms. It lasted 3-4 days and was NO FUN. So, I just didn't eat on Saturday, and made it through the show fine. Those two pre-show mimosas were just JUICE, right? Heh.
I sent a little birthday care package off to New Guy in Texas. I miss him. Still. Damn it!
I attended a readers' club gathering yesterday, and came home with an armful of big, thick, juicy-looking borrowed books. (And a stomach full of soup and bread and cheese.) Yay! (This is especially good since I've been making myself stay away from the bookstores with those dangerous 30% coupons.)
I've developed a really, really tacky theory about why a certain vice-presidential candidate needs an $11,000/week makeup artist AND refuses to release her medical records. Want to hear it? Well...let's just say...can you say "she-male"? Hee. (I said it was tacky.) Seriously though, $11,000 a WEEK? What the hell is underneath that spackle?!
And, not belaboring the political discussion, but...I really don't understand how people can look at the two campaigns--one, by all accounts, the most effective, disciplined, well-organized ever conducted, one a complete chaos of money shortfalls (dating back to the primaries), staff turnovers, back-biting, in-fighting, confused messages and ridiculous "expenses"--and not think there might be some correlation to how the country might be run!?
"Pete the Kitten" is still at my house. And he wants to know if you're going to raise his taxes. Hee. (No, he doesn't. He wants to know if he can have some of what you're eating.)

That's all I've got.

TGIF

2008-10-24T11:52:00.003-06:00

I'm tired, I'm half-sick, but today is my monthly "early day," so I'll be scooting home soon. Thank goodness.

AND, I'll be in the audience tomorrow as "Crairie Pome Hompanion" airs live from Tulsa, so if you're listening...well, I'll be in the audience. It's not like you'll be able to tell. Heh.

Have good weekends, everyone.

Clear something up for me.

2008-10-21T08:28:00.003-06:00

I'm hardly an expert on economics. Accounting/business was pretty much the only department I completely avoided in my college days. Okay, that and industrial technology. Heh.

So...maybe I'm just dumb. But how is an "economic stimulus payment" for the lower and middle classes, one of which we all received a few months ago and another of which is currently being discussed, any different, really, than a tax cut for the lower and middle class, such as the one being proposed by Barack Obama? In one scenario we get the money back after it's been paid into the system; in the other, we just don't pay it into the system in the first place. Right?

So why is one characterized as good for the economy, while the other is being labeled as "class warfare," "socialism" and "welfare"? The goal is the same, isn't it? Getting badly-needed funds into the hands of the people who will put it most directly back into the economy (trickling up, instead of down, which it seems to me is good for everyone)?

It all seems like political spin and semantics to me. It's making my brain hurt. The ignorance and intolerance I'm seeing expressed by "real" people out there are making my heart hurt. And I am so, so tired. November 4th can't come soon enough for me, come what may.

2008-10-16T12:34:00.002-06:00

Now, this is just my opinion, but...in MY opinion, anyone uttering the words "he wants nuclear energy to be safe," should NOT invest the word "safe" with a great deal of derision and contempt, lest he risk making himself look like a crazy man. And no, I'm not talking about any of my recent dates. Just something I noticed McCain said in both the last two debates. My god! Obama wants nuclear energy to be SAFE! What kind of terrorist-loving socialist IS he?

For the record, I'm guessing even Joe the Plumber would like nuclear energy to be safe. Just a guess.

Okay, moving on to...the recent dates. I haven't heard from Obama Guy since Sunday. He was supposed to call Tuesday night; he did not. I am not planning to call him.

I went to a debate-watching party by myself last night. Which actually turned out to be very interesting. Last week we went to a local non-profit indie movie theatre--it was fun, but fairly crowded, and we were packed like sardines into folding chairs. I had heard there was a coffeehouse on the "north side" holding debate-watching parties. Side note: for those of you for whom this means nothing, i.e. pretty much all of you, this is the traditionally African-American part of town, which has gotten a bad reputation in recent years (not completely fairly, though certainly there are problems) for being dangerous, due to gang-related activity. It is the part of town in which I live and go to church, though my home doesn't really fall into "far" north territory. Obama Guy had been to a party there, and said the atmosphere was more relaxed and the chairs were more comfortable. So I decided to go watch the debate there.

It was me, about a dozen African-American women, and 3 or 4 African-American men. They all seemed to know each other, so I felt a bit like an outsider on that score, but otherwise...I enjoyed it. There was a good deal of unrestrained vocalizing ("Did he just say that?" and "He did NOT just go there!"), someone brought in a bunch of fried chicken for everyone (I did not partake, of course, but I did enjoy a tall, frosty root beer), and most of the eye-rolling seemed to be in unison. Heh.

Follow-up to yesterday's McCain Supporter sighting: he messaged me again yesterday afternoon. Apparently he just can't stop thinking about me, and thinks maybe we were a bit hasty--would I consider going out with him again? I basically replied that I didn't really see the point--eventually our many fundamental differences would make us both crazy. His reply? "I like crazy." Heh. As I told him, there's crazy, and then there's crazy. He told me to call him if I changed my mind at any point, and that was that. For the record, I'm not THAT crazy. Yet.