Need I Say More?

A Charmed Life Once Again

Remember how I used to have a charmed life? Well, lately, it has seemed a little less charmed than usual. I've not been enjoying my job, I've done silly things financially, I got blood poisoning, and you've all read about the losers I've met (and here, here and here). It would appear my charmed life has once again returned.

The other day I was driving to work, minding my own business, basically minding the rules of the road (ie not speeding too much, generally using my turn signal, etc). As I do this drive ten times a week, I'm afraid it is somewhat of a mindless endeavor. I arrived at work, pulled into the church parking lot next door (where we have overflow parking) and turned off my car. I then heard a little blip. It was that kind of noise that I can't explain, but that everyone knows: the sound of a siren being turned on and off in quick succession. I looked over to my left - nothing. I looked to my right - nothing. At this point, I was assuming it was an emergency vehicle driving by, so I got out of my car.

It was not a car driving by. There was a police car right behind me, and there was an officer walking towards me. While waiting for him, I considered what I could have possibly done wrong that would warrant being pulled over. The only thing I can come up with is that I must have been going faster than I thought I was. I quickly found out that I was not speeding (or if I was, that wasn't why I got pulled over). Instead I was being pulled over for rolling through a stop sign. Apparently, there was a state mandated 'pulling people over for not stopping' thing going on, and I got caught. Was I guilty of this infraction? Heck, yeah. I don't know anyone who stops at the stop signs I was going through. I roll through those suckers twice a day (at minimum). Do I think I'm putting anyone at harm? Nope. They are stop signs with clear views of all the roads, etc. Will I keep doing it? Most likely. But that's not the point. The point is what happened next.

After explaining why he pulled me over, the police man asks if I am dropping things off (my car was an awful mess at this point) or going to work. I let him know that I am headed to work next door (which, by the way, is a domestic violence agency and shelter). He then asks for my license and proof of insurance. I get out my wallet, and low and behold, I don't have my licence. I quickly tell the officer that I was at our gala that weekend and my licence is in another purse. I'm sure I'm getting a hefty ticket at this point. The officer asks if it was the one Detectives so-and-so went to (our local dv detectives). I confirm that this is true, and he asks for anything with my name on it. I give him my health insurance card - this seems to work just fine. He takes down my name, address, social and birth date (which I inform him is incorrect on my license - whoopsie!) At this point, I notice his name badge and realize that this is the same cute police officer who kept smiling at me at lunch the other day and chatted up my mom. I hadn't noticed before because he had on a hat and sunglasses. He then hands me back my insurance card and tells me to have a nice day. I'm not sure if it is because he thought I was cute or if it is because I work where I do, but I didn't get a ticket for any of my multiple offenses.

Changing Jobs

I decided I needed a new job (the whole almost getting fired thing really cinched the deal), but I wasn't sure what I really wanted to do. I spent countless hours pondering this very thing and discussing my life with my friend, Jan. She asked me a compelling question: "If you could do anything with your life, with no concern about money, what would it be?" The obvious answer was teach, but I realized that having a full time teaching job wasn't really what I wanted. I don't enjoy office politics, and I found at my last full time gig, there was a bit of that: who taught what class at what time, when were you in your office, etc, etc, but I never experienced that when I was adjuncting. It hit me that what I most wanted to do was have a couple of part time jobs.

I new the main thing I wanted to do was teach, so I quickly updated my CV and sent it off to a few schools. I felt certain I would hear something despite the fact that I sent things off a little late for fall semester. Sure enough, I got a phone call (while on vacation in Canada, no less) from a community college wanting me to teach three classes, which I quickly accepted. Then a few days ago I got another call from a woman I used to work with. She was in a bind and needed someone to cover a few classes, and she thought of me. My schedule is now booked up through December! Amazing how things come together, isn't it!

I'm still not entirely sure what I want to do for the more stable part time job, but I definitely want to help people. I'm sure something great will come up soon!

Memories?

I have a tendency in life to remember things in a positive light. My father does this, and I have always admired this in him. He thinks back fondly of a childhood that many others might use as an excuse for all that happened to them. Being able to look back over your life with rose tinted glasses seems the ideal thing to do. After all, the past is the past and what good could it possibly do to focus on the negative?

For instance, if you are reflecting back on a trip you took, it behooves you to not think about the sunburn you got, and to only remember the really fantastic parts of the vacation. But there are some instances where only remembering the good really sucks. Don't get me wrong, I think if given a choice, it is better to remember the good things than to recall only the bad; however, some times I wish I did a better job of tempering some of the good with a little of the bad. Most notably with relationships. My ex-boyfriend/best friend reminded me of something that occurred whilst we were dating. Did I have any recollection of this? Nope. In my world, our relationship was just fine and then we grew apart. This was clearly not the case, but that's how I remember it. In this case, it is fine. It isn't hurtful for me to look back fondly on the time we spent together as a couple. But in the case of my ex-husband, it would be beneficial if I ONLY remembered the bad stuff because then I wouldn't miss him so much. I try to remember something mean he did anytime a positive thought about him pops into my head, but it doesn't always do much good.

The same is true for a recent relationship I had. I generally only think about the person with great fondness, but I realized the other day that I had totally forgotten the jerky things he did while we were dating. Somehow I had romanticized the relationship to this point where I thought it should have worked out. How silly am I?

August

Well, August is nearly over (I think tomorrow is September 1st, actually), and I've not written one entry. I've had lots of good thoughts, but not really a lot of time or extra energy. So what have I been doing? Let's see: I moved all of my furniture to my basement (and by 'I' I mean my dad moved nearly all of my furniture to the basement) and had my hardwoods refinished. The floors are amazingly beautiful. I am really pleased that I had them done even though getting them done was a huge pain. The original company I hired flaked at the last minute, but I found another company who were able to fit me in. They did a wonderful job, and I am so thankful that I found them. I then painted my baseboards and installed quarter round right before leaving for vacation. Upon my return from an amazing trip to Banff , I threw myself a birthday party, which was great fun. I've since been getting caught up at work, which has been killer lately. As if that were not enough, I resigned my current position on Friday. I will start teaching a few writing classes in a couple of weeks. Needless to say, I'm exhausted. I'm hoping that in September I might get to type out some of the things I considered writing about in August.

Spike!

Isn't he super cute!? The buns rarely sit still long enough for a good photo, but I snapped this one the other night while he took a break from munching on his hay.

But We're Not Friends

I went out to dinner with a guy last Thursday night. I wasn't too sure if I was interested, but I didn't have that immediate 'no way' reaction, so I thought giving it one more chance was a good idea. He asked me to let him know when I was available to get together again. I told him I would let him know when I got back in town (this was 4th of July weekend). Yesterday I shot him an email letting him know that my week is nuts and suggesting we could get together next week. I quickly got a polite response letting me know that over the weekend he started dating a girl he'd seen a few times. That was fine with me, as I wasn't sure if I was interested in this guy anyway. I sent a response wishing him luck in his new relationship. A few hours later I received this message:

"If you have any interest in a friend with benefits let me know."

My jaw literally dropped when I read this. This is wrong on so many levels. So, he doesn't want to date me, but he wants to sleep with me? Oh, yeah, sure, you don't need to take me out or get to know me, I'm the kind of girl who will happily just sleep with you whenever you want. Yeah, my self-esteem is that low. I'm mean, we aren't even friends, for crying out loud. I realize I've only ever heard of such relationships, but I always thought that being friends was sort of part of it. Maybe I'm just naive. If that is the case, this is the kind of naive I want to be.

And what about this girl he is dating? Where does she figure into all of this? God, what a jerk.

Kickball

The Dolls and Balls (actually 'Dolls n Balls' but I refuse to not spell 'and' out) won our first game last night. I cannot believe just how fun playing kickball really is. I'm not sure if it would be as fun if our team wasn't so great. Sure, we are decent kickball players, but when I say great, I mean as a bunch of people. We worked together as a cohesive unit. Everyone was helping out, cheering and generally working together. It was a great display of teamsmanship, if I do say so myself.

I wish I was as savvy a sports blogger as some I know, and could go into great detail about what happened, but I cannot. Here are the most salient details of game one, in my humble opinion (that means they are all about me, just so you know!):

1. We won!
2. As second base person I got tons of people out, which rocked.
3. I jammed my finger, which sucked. I'll be sure to take a picture and post it cause it is NASTY!
4. I have a tendency to kick right to the pitcher, which means I get out; however, I am getting better with my tactical kickball kicking skills.
5. Did I mention that we won?!

I am really looking forward to game two next week. Here's hoping it isn't rained out...

Bug Bites Can Be Bad

Last Thursday was a beautiful day, so I ate lunch outside and sat outside after work. At some point in the evening, I received what ended up being quite a bug bite (you'll see why). I first noticed said bug bite when it began to itch. I slathered on my trusty anti-itch gel that I have to have sent to me from overseas (they don't sell it in a gel form in the US. You can, however, get a prescription for it in a liquid suspension). This anti-itch stuff is amazing. It is a gagillion times better than any anti-itch stuff you can buy in the US. I first discovered it on a trip to Italy where I hosted a Suzanne Buffet for the local mosquitoes (thank god I didn't get roman fever, not that I think they still have malaria in Italy), and I've been hooked ever since.

Anyway, I digress. I used the gel, but my neck welt still itched. I used more and went to sleep. The next morning, it itched, but when I scratched it, it sort of hurt. I put more gel on it. Throughout the next day or so, it bothered me. At some point, I scratched it and a sort of crusty center came off. After that it sort of stopped itching. I remember thinking this was odd -- mosquito bites normally don't have crusty centers like say spider bites do, but spider bites don't normally itch. The weekend progressed, and the welt got bigger. By Sunday night there was a red line radiating out of the quarter sized welt on my neck. I now have what I think is a case of what I think is blood poisoning.

I don't know why I never get normal illnesses like, oh say a cold, but I don't. I get weird things like hot tub rash and a fructose malabsorption disorder. I went to the doctor yesterday, and he prescribed an antibiotic that will get rid of everything from "lyme disease and rocky mountain fever to staph or other skin infections." He didn't diagnose me with blood poisoning, but clearly there is some sort of subcutaneous infection. I guess I can just say that I have a neck infection. Lovely.

Deal Breakers

I was recently asked what my deal breakers were (in regards to dating, of course). At the time, I couldn't think of any. I tend to be reasonably positive, so I don't usually think in terms of what I can't stand (although somehow I always end up being reasonably superficial in the end!). Since this question was posed, I have been more aware of my deal breakers, so here they are, in no particular order:

1. Lying. I think all my dating posts make this one clear. I can't stand liars!
2. Being 'anti-choice.' I say this with one caveat: if you don't really feel strongly about this issue, and we disagree it probably isn't a big deal, but if that were the case, the issue would most likely not come up. For instance, I have no clue what my father thinks about this, even though I am very aware of his stance on other social issues.
3. Being allergic and/or disliking cats (or pets, for that matter). I've done this, and I am not doing it again.
4. Making comments about my neighborhood. For some odd reason, men feel compelled to make comments on where I live. If you are not my father, you don't get a say on where I live. Heck, my father doesn't even get a say. I don't understand why so many guys I go out with think they can say something about this from the outset. Considering they are 'wooing me,' as it were, you'd think they'd know enough to keep snide comments about my neighborhood to themselves. I even had one man suggest I be sure to lock my car doors whilst driving in my neighborhood so as to not get car jacked. I am unaware of any car jackings in my neighborhood, but people have this horrible perception that if an area is predominantly black, it is dangerous, and it pisses me off.
5. Suggesting my pet bunnies be made into rabbit stew and/or bringing up how yummy rabbit stew is around me. I don't get it, but for whatever reason rabbit stew is what the majority of men I meet bring up when they discover I have pet rabbits. I've never had rabbit stew. Who knew it was so prolific amongst American males. Bottom line, joking about eating my bunnies just isn't funny. It wasn't funny when my dad said it years ago, and it still isn't funny.

That's it. Those are the five things that I CANNOT stand. If I have not fallen in love with you and I discover one of those five things, you are out the door. If, however, I have fallen in love with you and then I discover one of those five things, it may be a different story... Well, except for the lying thing.

Oh!

I forgot to mention one interesting tidbit about my most recent eHarmony experience with, oh let's go ahead and call a spade a spade, the crazy dude. He informed me that if Obama were elected, he would be assassinated within a month or two by some southern redneck. The same would be true if we elected a female president. I guess in the crazy dude's mind change equals death. He went on to tell me that our country was founded by rednecks, which I found quite interesting. Crazy dude certainly has some fascinating ideas. It is people like him who make the country so frightening for me. I am once again glad to live in the city where people make sense!

Two New Addictions

I have recently added two new internet addiction to my growing list: Single in the Suburbs and Befouled

Single in the Suburbs is on MSN's Dating and Personals section. It is the account of one 40-something woman's dating experiences after having been married for twenty-three or so years. I really love reading about her exploits in on-line dating. I guess it is sort of refreshing to see how her experiences mirror my own, despite our age difference.

Befouled is a blog. I don't know the author. I don't even know where he lives, but my god, I enjoy reading his posts. He doesn't even write about things that are of interest to me, but I find myself captivated by his tales of coaching his son's baseball team and fishing with his friend. I feel sort of strange reading his posts since it appears most of the readers (or those who comment anyway) know him personally. It feels sort of voyeuristic, but I can't stop. I need to more!

Dating and Politics Don't Always Mix

Well, I had my last eHarmony meeting Wednesday night, and boy was it a doozy. It started out well, which was a pleasant surprise. He looked like his picture, he didn't appear to be short (but he was sitting down when I arrived), he was on time, and I didn't see any Miatas or Cameros in the parking lot. I order a beer and he a second vodka and something (I would have thought tonic or soda, but I think it was seven up or sprite). Conversation is easy. We grew up not to far from one another, so we enjoy a bit of reminiscing. He is my older sister's age, so we discuss people we both know, etc. He has nice eyes and a good smile. I start to think that I may have actually met a good guy on eHarmony. We laugh a lot about all sorts of stuff -- the people around us, life, work, etc. Time flies. I nursed my beer and then switched to water. We talk about our offices, and he mentions reducing energy consumption, etc. I'm excited -- not only is he attractive and funny, he is also a left winger! Now, I don't want anyone to mistakenly think this guy is perfect. He says 'coon' instead of raccoon, and he lives a bit further out than he said he did, but the conversation is great, so his 'county' ways aren't a big deal.

At some point I realize he has been knocking back vodka and clear liquid at the same rate as I've been drinking water. Maybe even faster. Huh. I try not to judge, but I am always a little concerned when someone drinks what to me seems like a lot - and doesn't appear at all affected. I have two uncles who are non-practicing alcoholics and my mother's father basically killed himself due to his drinking. I have no desire to have that in my life, but I feel like perhaps I am jumping to conclusions. For all I know, the drinks are really weak.

But I don't even have to worry about his potential drinking problem because he soon tells me that he doesn't believe in global warming. WHAT? He goes on to say that there are 'just as many scientists who say it isn't true'. That is, quite simply, not true, and I inform him that I am aware of some of those scientists, and that what they are purporting is bad science. He disagrees and continues to spout nonsense. I tell him he is crazy, but at this point the deal has still not been broken. That is until he tells me that Obama is a terrorist. He informs me of this after I tell him that in my opinion Obama will be the next president of the United States. I ask him why he believes this, and he explains that Obama's preacher said something about 'white devils'. I try to get him to help me understand how that makes Obama a terrorist, but he doesn't.

At this point, I am blown away, but the conversation is still surprisingly interesting, so I don't just walk out. I like a good political discussion anyway. He then tells me what the most important issue is for him. Low and behold it is the same as mine: abortion, but, not surprisingly, we are on different sides of the fence. His reasons are ridiculous, and once again he presents me with faulty logic. I think it is fine for people to have varying view points, but nothing bothers me more than faulty logic. Oh, did I mention he continually used the term 'pro-abortion' instead of 'pro-choice'? He kept saying I was pro-abortion, and I kept replying that I was quite clearly not pro-abortion. I like babies. I think babies should get to be born, but I think the alternative to legalized abortion is a far worse choice.

I could go on and tell you all about his thoughts on the death penalty, and how I surely, being pro-abortion and all, thought the death penalty should be illegal, but I won't. Instead I'll leave you with this lovely bit of logic: he explained that an aborted fetus (or newborn, as he liked to call them), might grow up to be the next female president. In the next sentence he said that abortion was okay in the case of rape. I then suggested that that fetus might also, having been allowed to live, become the next female president as well. He declined to comment.

Dating Sucks

Well, I've cancelled my eHarmony subscription. To be honest, it really hasn't lived up to the hype. Perhaps it's just me, but I certainly haven't met anyone I really felt compatible with. I guess having personality types that mesh well together is important, but I'm not sure if that is more important than shared values or interests or say being honest.

I don't understand why honesty is so difficult for some people (I was about to say men when I realized I have no idea if women are online dating liars or not -- I certainly try not to be!). I have been amazed at the number of men I did not recognize when they showed up for our 'meeting.' I am certainly glad that I look like my pictures because otherwise I would have walked right by the majority of the men I've met. I understand the reason for using your best photograph, but it really should look a bit like you!

This, however, is not as disconcerting as the men who lie about their height. I have found that except for the men who are really tall, most men have added an inch or so to their height (or I've grown since the last 5'10" guy I dated). I met a fellow who claimed to be 5'7". This was already a tad short for me. I am 5'6" and ideally I'll meet a guy who is tall enough that I can comfortably wear heels with, but I have been trying to date men I might not normally be interested in, in the hopes of finding someone great (and in an effort to break from type -- clearly the guys I am normally attracted to aren't turning out to be all that great) Anyway, back to the 5'7" guy... or should I say the 5'5" guy. I was taller than him in flip flops - he had on actual shoes, so he was even shorter than he seemed. And he is not the only guy to lie about his height. I just don't get it. Do they think women are so dumb, they won't notice? For me, lying is a big deal breaker, even if it is just about height. Quite frankly, if you are going to lie about something little like that, you are probably lying about something big too.

The shocking thing is many of these guys I'm supposed to fit with personality wise are really not interesting to me in the least. One guy wanted me to know how I felt after two very casual meetings (both an hour long). Not only did he want me to know how I felt, he wanted me to tell him. I didn't know, so I went with "next!" Way to force the issue, dude! Another guy (one of the height liars) was 15 minutes late. If I had not been enjoying my cup of tea (a Pixie Mate Latte actually), I would have already left by the time he showed up. Why was he late? He needed to change his shirt. Oh, yeah, that's worth insulting a prospective date. And then he acted like he was the coolest guy ever, even though he was short AND a big dork. Groan. Then there was the 36 year old who admitted he'd not ever been financially stable enough to own a house. And he went on and on about how he liked to play softball, and wouldn't it have been great if he'd been good enough to play baseball, and on and on. Why admit all your failings right out of the gate? Oh, did I mention he drove a white Mazda Miata? Don't even get me started on cars, but c'mon dude, you drive a girl car.

I realize a lot of this is very superficial, but with each of these men, there hasn't been any sort of connection. Even if short dude #1 hadn't been short and a liar, he still would have pressured me to make a decision. Even if short dude #2 hadn't been short and a liar, he still would have thought changing his shirt was more important that being on time. And even if Mr. Mazda Miata had driven an Accord, he still would have had low self-esteem.

There have been men I've met who were totally honest, looked like their picture, were self-assured, etc, etc, but unfortunately I haven't felt a connection with those guys either. I think I've come to the conclusion that personality isn't that great of a predictor of chemistry.

eHarmony

Well, I clearly am incapable of learning, aren't I?

Here I am again, signed up with an online dating site expecting results to be different than the last, oh, five times I've done it. My faith this time was resting on the simple fact that eHarmony is supposed to be for men and women actually seeking relationships rather than friends to email, hookups, general entertainment and/or members of the opposite sex with whom they could practice their lying. I may have been mistaken.

It seems that no matter the purpose of the dating website or the cost (why, oh why, would anyone spend nearly twice as much to do exactly what they could on match or yahoopersonals???), nearly all dating sites attract idiots, liars, tricksters, stalkers and weirdos. And those members that don't fall into those five categories are men. And we all know that men are intrinsically stupid. They simply can't help it. (Of course, I am also stupid, hence the signing up for dating sites.)

Here are a few rules I would like to put into place:

1. I am an adult. Please treat me as one. If, despite your age, you are not an adult, please don't bother me.
2. Please be forthright. I do not care for ambiguity. My feelings won't be hurt if you are a liar, a child, stupid, etc. Please do not hide these things.
3. Don't play games. Games are only okay if they are played in the living room and require boards. I can guarantee I will not try to trick you or do things on purpose to make you react. Please see number rule number one.
4. Please don't waste my time. If you do not intend on ever actually meeting, please stop emailing me.
5. If you are too busy to date, please don't ask for matches, that is lame. Please refer to rule number four.

I wish I were capable of meeting interesting men out in the real world. The problem is that I see no reason to speak to strangers. Why would I do that? I know the groceries I want, I don't need to discuss them with someone I've never met. I have multiple degrees in Literature; therefore, I feel capable making my own choices at bookstores. In fact, I don't really like strangers. Perhaps my parents went a little overboard with the whole not talking to strangers thing. Damn them (okay, not really).

I swear...

I meet the strangest guys. I don't know quite how I do it, but OH MY GOD. More to come on this later... just needed to get that out!

Election Day

I had a nice realization today while voting. This was by no means the first time I've voted (that was in the 1996 Presidential Election -- back before the Republicans stole America), and the issues on this election day weren't as potentially earth shattering as other elections in which I've cast my ballot; indeed, this was just a local election, but to me it was a big deal. Why? This was the first election in which I felt like a member of the community in which I was voting. I've been transient for so long, and it felt so good to know that my vote may actually affect me.

In my fridge...

Okay, Chip, here you go...

My fridge is really sad. So are my cupboards, as a matter of fact, but here is an exciting list of what is usually in my fridge:

• Organic Hormone Free 1% milk (while I like to support local farmers, I think milk tastes better in cardboard than glass, so I no longer buy Shatto milk)
• Lite Silk Soy milk
• Campo Lindo free range brown eggs
• Misc. cheeses (right now I have two Irish cheeses, Jarlsberg and some organic cheddar)
• Whole Wheat English Muffins
• Whole Wheat Bread
• Butter
• Misc. Jams, but always Polaner All Fruit Apricot and some sort of raspberry. Right now I think I have raspberry pecan
• Fruit and veggies for Spike and Buffy. I always have organic carrots and celery for them (how special those rabbits are!), and I usually have apples too, but I sometimes eat the apples
• I think there are some condiments in there also, but I don't use them regularly

I hope that was exciting for everyone. If any of my fellow bloggers want to make a list of your fridge contents, please do!

Hot Tub Rash

I could suggest you stop reading now, but you already know this post is about a rash, and if you are like me, your curiosity will not allow you to stop reading...

The weekend before last I went to a wedding. After the wedding, soaking in the hot tub seemed like a good idea. Well, it wasn't. There were many signs that soaking in this particular hot tub might not be a good idea. The first was that the water felt more like a bath than a hot tub. The second was that the jets wouldn't start. The third was the murky water. The fourth were the floaters. Finally, after we all dodged a few too many 'hairs,' we thought getting out might be a wise move.

Sadly, it wasn't soon enough. Two days later I discovered I contracted hot tub rash from this lovely hot tub experience. I suppose I should have known I could pick up some sort of nasty from this clearly unclean hot tub water considering the favorite words of bacteria are warm and moist, but I never thought an upscale hotel would have such a grungy hot tub.

Since discovering the rash, I have been regaling party goers with stories of my experience. I know most people might frown on discussing rashes in public, but c'mon, it's a funny story! Along with entertaining many, I have also learned of other gross things you can pick up in poorly cared for hot tubs. Most shocking? Gangrene. Now that is a gross story.

I am now counting my blessings that I just got a rash and not gangrene. I know you are all wondering: I'm all better now, thank goodness.

FYI I don't look like an elf

And even if I do, that is not a good way to hit on me. I'm just saying...

I don't recognize my life

I don't know what has happened, but I seem to be living this life that isn't mine. Somewhere along the line something happened. I can't pinpoint it exactly, but I think it happened when I moved to Florida the first time. That's when everything started to change. Not that all the changes have been bad, but sometimes I find myself looking around and just not recognizing things. Like, when did I get to be 30? How did that happen? What happened to the last four years? I just don't know what to make of it all. Somehow I have a job that I never even considered having and that I'm not all that good at. Somehow I got to be the type of person who doesn't have a lot of friends when I used to have tons (I once threw a party, and people came from 8 hours a way). Somehow I've gotten out of shape when I always used to be so fit. I just don't know what happened. I used to have things I was really good at, but now I can't think of one thing I'm good at that I actually do. I'm not even sure the things I used to think I was good at are things I actually ever was really good at -- if that even makes sense. I don't think deep thoughts anymore, and that really scares me. I used to be interesting and talk about insightful things. Now I seem to just seem to sit here. I'd say I was depressed, but I don't really feel depressed. I just feel sort of lost. I want to get some of the old me back, but I don't really know how.

Halleluja!

Spellcheck Works! It's a miracle! I can spell again (or at least I can look like I can spell again!)

Haircut

I got my hair cut this morning during an ice storm. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea as the haircut was rather poor, but I had an appointment, so I clearly had to go. Maybe the stylist was distracted by all of the ice? Whatever the reason, he did a crap job of it. He cut off a lot, which is what I wanted, but the style was all wrong AND rather than trim the hair around my ears, he simply tucked it behind my ears. When it wasn't tucked it looked all wrong, and it wasn't long enough to stay tucked. Groan. When I got home this morning (after running by my office to get some stuff to work on from home), I took my scissors to it. I am not a trained hair stylist, but my god, at least I gave it a bit of style! I really should have taken a before picture, but the above is after I fixed it. I just couldn't stand to have it like that for very long. I will get someone who does know how to cut hair to clean it up soon. I am now on the look out for a new stylist. I really wish I could afford to fly to Florida to get my hair cut, which was my mother's very helpful suggestion.

Neti Pot

Look how much this guy loves his neti pot! After hearing about how great these little things are, I bought and began using one last night. A neti pot is a little device used for nasal irrigation. For more on why you would want to do this, read this article. Basically you make a solution of salt water and run it through your sinuses. It goes in one nostril and out the other! You can actually feel the water in your forehead. It is so odd. When I did my right nostril, some of the salt water got in my eye, which was rather creepy. Right after I finished, I felt this strange clearness in my sinuses, but then I started to feel stuffed up. For about an hour after I finished, salt water kept dripping down my throat and out my nose. I have no clue where it was keeping itself, but that was gross. My understanding is that after a few days, I'll feel great. In the meantime, I feel like some guru is out there laughing at all the people he has gotten to pour water into their noses.

Why I'm not dating: Part II (aka I'm a great milk-finisher)

I didn't realize this was going to be a two parter, but low and behold it is! Before I get started on Part II, let me take this moment to remind you that spell check isn't working, so please forgive any misspellings of which I am sure there will be many (for instance, is that how you spell misspell? or is it mispell? They both look wrong.)

Okay, so there is really more to the story than my disdain for dating. In fact, that is really only a secondary reason for why I'm not dating. The main reason is that I'm perfectly happy single. Sure, my life isn't so exciting (see here), but that is just fine with me. I had a life that with so fraught with drama and excitement that I couldn't handle it (if you'd like a glimpse into this, see here.) I like things the way they are. I like that if I make a mess, it is my mess. I am not bothering anyone else with my mess. I can choose to clean said mess whenever I feel like it, but the most important part is that it is my mess. I like that. I like the fact that if the milk is gone, it is because I drank the last of it. This doesn't mean that I would not be willing to give up some of this control if it meant that I had a wonderful parter who made messes and drank the last of the milk, it just means that I am a little bit hesitant to do that. I'm pretty content with the status quo, so I'm not out actively pursuing a milk-finisher. I guess that is really the main reason I'm not dating -- I'm whole all by myself. I'm a great milk-finisher.


For me, a good relationship would be one where I took care of the house, paid half of the bills, and he took out the trash and hung out with me with. Companionship is really all I want. I don't need to be taken care of financially or emotionally. I'm doing just fine. I don't even mind taking care of someone I love -- in fact, I kind of like it. I just want someone who won't cause me much emotional strain. I've done that -- I've done that so much that I broke it. I got it fixed, but I don't like it when my emotions are broken, no siree, so I don't want to do that again. That doesn't mean I'm scared to be in a relationship, it just means that in my history, relationships have had tremendous costs with very little benefits (I guess I'm back to the theme of Part I), and I know that by myself the costs are very low. And don't you start with the whole 'but what about the benefits' malarkey -- I know it is just that. Why would I actively seek something that disrupts my happy existence? I wouldn't, so I'm not. And that, my friends, is the real reason I'm not dating.

Why I'm not dating

A friend asked me the other day why I'm not dating. The thing is, I don't think of it as not dating, at least not on purpose. Theoretically, I am dating -- in the respect that I am not closed off to the idea -- I'm just not currently practicing. Or more specifically I'm not looking. Does that make sense?

So, back to the question... I am not dating because it doesn't seem to be worth it. Right now, everything in my life is about the cost/benefit ratio. Here's an example: Going to work means I can't go on vacation, can't sleep late, can't read books all day, etc. Those are the costs of working; however, going to work means I can eat, feed my pets, have a house, etc. Those are the benefits and since they far outweigh the costs, I go to work. We all know how this works (which begs the question 'why are you explaining it then?' To which I answer, 'cause I wanna, and its my blog, so you can't stop me' and then I stick out my tongue like the eight year old I am).

Well, when I examined the benefits of dating they are slim -- the main benefit is that I might meet "the one" (if there is such a thing, which is a whole other discussion). Now some might say dating is fun and that you get to meet interesting new people, but I don't see it that way. I don't like it. In my recent dating past I have gotten to meet liars, stalkers, more liars, carrot danglers (as my former-friend Amanda called them) and insecure buffoons -- some were even insecure liars, while others were insecure stalkers who also lied. You can read about some of the interesting men I ran into during my forays into online dating in my past blogs (I would link to them, but there are too many), and there are many others I have yet to blog about (men who work for Sprint, anyone?)

Bottom line, to me the cost of dating far, far outweighs the benefit. And that isn't even taking into consideration the cost/benefit ratio of relationships themselves... I think that if the 'world' or 'universe' or 'higher power' or whatever wants me to date, dates will appear in my life.

You've heard it here first: I'm done looking, but I'm not done dating.

Going to sleep is the most exciting part of my day

Last night, as I was falling asleep (and blogging in my head, as I like to do. Sidebar: I really wish there was a way I could hook my computer up to my brain. I do my best 'writing' in those moments before sleep. Or maybe my brain is sleep addled and the 'writing' sucks but seems really great. Anyway, I digress.) I began thinking about how sleeping is really the most entertaining part of my day. I have such amazingly vivid dreams, and, check it out, in them I get to participate in all this wild stuff my sub-conscious self comes up with. How cool is that!? I think dreams are really cool. I get to have a participatory conversation with my self. That is just super neat stuff right there.

As neat as these dreams are, I think maybe it is sad that they are more interesting and entertaining than the hours I am awake. Should I really look forward to falling asleep THAT much? I am totally content with my waking hours. I like my job. I like my house. I like myself. Sure, I'd like it better if it weren't winter anymore and if I got to go on more vacations, but otherwise, things are grand, just not exciting.

I need my spellcheck!

For some reason the little spellcheck button isn't working, and it is making me upset. I am a horrible speller. I just am. And misspelling words makes you look stupid. Bah.

Why blogging makes me feel bad.

I clearly have issues. Not that this should really come as a surprise to anyone who knows me; however, I was surprised at the recent manifestation of my issues. I realized that I don't like blogging if I don't think people read what I write. It doesn't matter if it is a million people or only one -- I just want SOMEONE to read, and I want to know that they are reading. The thought of writing something for public consumption and having no one take notice is horrific to me. It makes me feel silenced. I honestly can't stand the thought of not being heard. And it isn't that I think my ideas are so important -- clearly most of what I write here is pretty trivial -- it is the idea that no one cares enough to read what I have to say.

Clearly, I have some deep seated insecurities.

Dexter

I don't know how I missed this show. Okay, yes, I do. I don't have cable, so even if I had known of its existence, I couldn't have watched it. It is really good. And troubling. I can't believe how sympathetic the main character, who is also a serial killer, is. I really like him and am bothered by him at the same time. The show also makes me wonder how many sociopaths I've encountered in my life. It was once suggested to me that my ex husband might be a sociopath. It wouldn't surprise me. Not the murdering thing, but the not feeling thing. Anyway, Dexter is good, and it is on DVD and streaming video on Netflix. You should check it out (but not you Kristy, you don't like blood -- not that I like blood, but I am not bothered by it in movies -- crap, maybe there is something wrong with me too!)

Dreams

I frequently have weird dreams. Perhaps everyone's dreams are weird, but so few of us remember them that the ones we do remember seem especially odd. That being said, I seem to remember nearly all of my dreams, or at least pieces of them, and they all seem odd. Some, however, are stranger than others, and I am constantly wondering what they mean. The logical part of me assumes that if I dream of ice cream it is because I like ice cream or I was thinking of ice cream before I fell asleep -- it just seems so irrational to believe that a dream about ice cream means that I am satisfied with my life (which according to the Dream Moods Dictionary, it does) -- how do all people on this planet automatically know that ice cream is indicative of happiness in one's life? Do all people in the world love ice cream? Why doesn't cake mean contentment if one dreams about it? Don't all people like cake? (FYI: "To see a cake in your dream, indicates that you need to learn to share and allocate your workload instead of trying to do everything yourself. Cakes also symbolize selfishness or the feeling of not getting your fair share.")

Despite my reservations, I have a history of dream analysis being correct. A few years ago I dreamt I was swimming nearly every night. The dreams otherwise varied, but in each one I was swimming. Sometimes I was in a pool, sometimes in the ocean -- the only common denominator in the dreams was that the water was never scary or uncomfortable, and that I was swimming. I had these dreams so frequently that I even asked my therapist if she knew anything about dream analysis. She didn't, and I had a lot going on, so I didn't worry about it. After the dreams ended, I looked up the meaning. According to every single dream 'dictionary,' dreams of swimming are extremely common for people going through therapy. Voila! For the year that I had the swimming dreams, I was in therapy at least three hours a week. After this experience, I was hooked. Logic be damned.

So, what have I been dreaming about lately? Well, I had two dreams with alligators in them and two with spiders. Those are the only themes, and they aren't great ones. In the first alligator dream, a huge alligator was trying to break into my grandmother's house. (Isn't it funny how things that don't make any sense in real life make sense in your dreams?) My sisters and I were the only ones home when this was happening, and we went upstairs to hide in the bathroom. I can remember feeling the house shake as the alligator tried to force his way in. I realized my cat Finnegan was in the hallway, so I ran out to get him and then I woke up. (On a side note, I only ever dream about one of my cats... isn't that odd?). In the second alligator dream (which happened a few nights later), I was at Wal-Mart getting my oil changed. The waiting room for oil changes was the same as the taxidermy department. All of these people were standing around waiting to get their animals taxidermied by the Wal-Mart taxidermists, but the animals were all alive. They looked dead -- all limp and lifeless -- but they weren't. When I saw all of these dead deer looking at me, I freaked out and started to run away, and just like in horror films, everywhere I turned were more living dead animals. It was soooo scary. The last one I ran into was an alligator that attacked me. It took a hunk out of my thigh.

So, what does all of that mean? I'm not sure. Here's what the Dream Moods Dictionary says about it:

To see an alligator in your dream, symbolizes treachery, deceit, and hidden instincts. It may be a signal for you to take a new perspective on a situation. It may also represent your ability to move between the material world of waking life and the emotional, repressed world of the unconscious. Alternatively, the alligator represents healing powers and qualities.

To dream that you are running away from the alligator, indicates that you are unwilling to confront some painful and disturbing aspect of your unconscious. There is some potentially destructive emotion that you are refusing to acknowledge and owning up to.

According to biblical interpretations, an alligator suggests that leviathan is king over the children of pride. (Psa 74:14, Job 41:1,Isa 27:1)

In the first of my spider dreams, I had to eat this huge nasty spider to stop something bad from happening. I did, but it was horrible. I had that one a few weeks ago, but a couple of nights ago I had another spider dream. In this one I had to wear this costume that had this poisonous spider in it. I don't know why I had to wear it or why it had to have this spider. I was told there was no way the spider could hurt me, but it did. I had this horrible bite on my chest, and I was told I would die and there was nothing that could be done. I wasn't in any pain. All I remember was that I wanted to tell my mom that I loved her.

Here's what the Dream Moods Dictionary says:

To see a spider in your dream, indicates that you are feeling like an outsider in some situation. Or that you may want to keep your distance and stay away from an alluring and tempting situation. The spider is also symbolic of feminine power. Alternatively, a spider may refer to a powerful force protecting you against your self-destructive behavior. If you kill a spider, it symbolizes misfortune and general bad luck.

To dream that you are bitten by a spider, represents a conflict with your mother or some dominant female figure in your life. The dream may be a metaphor for a devouring mother or the feminine power to possess and entrap. Perhaps you are feeling trapped by some relationship.

In the first spider dream I killed the spider by eating it. In the dream I had to, but according to this, it is bad luck. In the second, I was bitten, but I wanted to find my mother. How odd.

Chica Blanca Bathroom Progression

Chica Blanca Update!

As many of you know, I've been renovating my bathroom (and by "I", I mean the contractor). The demolition began on December 3rd, and except for one little thing, it was finished last week. Not surprisingly, the project was not on time or under budget (thank god I am not paying for it!). Now, I only have one bathroom in my house, so having the project take so long was a tiny bit difficult, to say the least.

Here you can see just how beautiful the bathroom was before construction began. Notice the mismatched tiles by the bathtub! Oh, and the ceiling was glossy aqua blue as well.

No Blogging

Wow, I didn't realize just how long it had been since I last posted something. Honestly, I don't know why I wasn't posting anything in December, but I'll use the holiday excuse: I was just so busy with the holidays, and blah blah blah. However, I do have a great reason for not blogging in January... this month has been INSANE! Work has been out of control, and with all the writing I do at work, I just didn't have it in me to write about my life. I didn't even have the energy to talk about my life! January is almost over, and my life is nearly back to normal, so I will now attempt to go back and blog about some of the interesting things I have observed or experienced over the past two months. Cheers!

Edited to add: I realized why I hadn't been posting... my mom broke her hip, so I was going to my parents' house all of the time. That, coupled with the holidays and the bathroom reno, caused me to be super busy from Thanksgiving until now. Wow, I did have a reason!