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.