yes, it does

So remember this post?

Wednesday, March 4, 2009
does it light up?

...Smash finally got home, safe and sound. I miss her already, but I am glad for her cuz she was pretty stressed. When she called to say she was pulling in her driveway I could tell she was happy and relieved to be there...she missed all her boys and was ready to get back to her life. While she was here I did have the opportunity to introduce her to Bob, though. She hadn't seen him, and I was interested to get her opinion, so I yanked him out of his cozy little corner of my closet, out of the gift bag in which he resides and presented him for her appraisal.

Ya know how when you have a crush on a guy, and you are at that happy flirty stage, and you want to get your girl's opinion? It suddenly becomes very important, before going to the next stage, to see what she thinks. You want to make sure you aren't crazy, that he is not Quasimodo and because of your desperation and rose colored glasses you are overlooking major flaws in his makeup, so you "present him" to her, often orchestrating a casual run in somewhere where you know he might be, and after he is gone, you dish.

WELLLLL, this wasn't exactly a casual run in, it's not like Bob does coffee, and I wouldn't exactly call what we have a crush, but I am intrigued, and desperate, and I needed her opinion, so I "presented" him.

After she got done laughing, she started with the questions...

Smash: "What is THAT for?"

me: "I have no idea."

Smash: "Do you put that, uh...hmmm, yeah...and what is this goin' on over here?"

me: "Again, no idea."

Smash: "Yeah, you were right, it is pretty big, lemme see again..."

"Ok, yeah, that is pretty f*cking big, you don't need all that."

me: "No, I'm thinking no."

Smash: "Does it light up?"


Uhm yeah, guess what...it does.

Bob. Lights. Up.

I kid you not...

I was feelin' a little frisky, and for some reason (no, there was no alcohol involved) I decided WTF and yanked Bob out of his cozy little hiding spot, out of the gift bag, and out of the packaging, and started investigating. Stupid me thought he would already have batteries (I am new to the whole sex toy thing...) and was pretty disappointed to see he did not. Well, after stealing the batteries out of BOTH my camera AND the remote control, Bob requires a lot of power you see, and getting them all in there (thinking the whole time, this had damn better be worth it, cuz if I am out of a remote the rest of the night I am gonna be PISSED OFF) I turn him on.

Ok, so not ONLY is there an ON/OFF switch but there are two other "setting" switches which, of course, I got to messin' with and before I knew it, Bob was not just vibrating, he was wriggling, and squirming, and LIGHTING UP, I'm talkin' multi colored, flashing, whoo-hoo light show. I started giggling, then laughing, then flat out guffawing...my she-she closed up tighter than a clam (yes, pun intended) cuz there is now NO WAY IN HELL I can put this thing inside me (my box is not a disco, thank you very much, and so does not need a pulsating, vibrating light show). I want to call my sister to tell her he does IN FACT light up, but because she is at work, I can't, and I am left standing in my closet (how many of my stories have that line in them?) staring at Bob and laughing so hard there are tears streaming down my face.

After a few minutes, I finally decide the TV is way more important than the light show and put the batteries back in the remote, put Bob back in his bag, and pop Oceans 11 into the DVD player...one of these days I may buy Bob some batteries of his own, but for now: I'll take Clooney...in the dark...and a working remote.

stuff to watch

Wicked tired and gotta work tomorrow so don't have much tonight...thought I would just share a few of the things that I enjoyed this week...hope you do as well:

I'm sure most of you have seen this, but in case you haven't it is Susan Boyle, the 47 year old lady who stunned Simon on Britain's Got Talent, and made a bunch of folks cry cuz she is just that good: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

If you haven't heard Steve McGrew before you have missed out...HILARIOUS, this clip is fun, but watch all of them if you want to laugh your ass off: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZUyqqef5Ug

Glad I was never a smoker, but if I had been and tried to stop while flying, this soooooooo would have been me :) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ky8fCSI-kgA

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytUr3X75v5s OMG, LOL.

Ok, that's all I got, hope you enjoy, I am signing off to go watch the two episodes of My Boys in my DVR...

home

I have gotten a few requests for more travel stories along the lines of the Lou-ee-veille post...I guess travel nightmares are always something most people can relate to, and while I promise to work on that, tonight I wanted to talk about the flip side: home. Last night, one of the guys from work invited a group of us to his house, so we could christen his new bar. He just completed an incredible media/play/bar room and wanted us all to see it. We all oohed and ahhed and got a little jealous, and then started talkin' about our own houses, which of course, got me thinkin'.

I have lived in a car, in a barn without electricity or plumbing, in a hotel, in apartments, in tiny houses, big houses, and a 3500 square foot "dream house" with views of the ocean. The house I live in now is small, but cozy and lovely, and perfect for me and the Pea. When I came home tonight I was happy to be home, and looked around grateful for what I have, despite the fact that I don't have the formal rooms, stainless appliances, 9 foot ceilings or ocean views of the house I left to come here. I don't have a media room or a bar, but I have the Pea, and that is all that matters...she is what makes the house I live in now home.

I am thinking as I type, about the time I spent in New York, at the farm, and of why I was so sad and desperate to get out when I was 15...it had nothing to do with not being able to blow dry my hair or watch tv, it was because I was lonely. I used the house and it's lack of modern amenities as an excuse, the reality was: I felt alone in my own home...I wasn't connected to my mom, I wouldn't allow myself to connect with dad, and I knew I wasn't being a very good big sister to Smash or Youngest, so I just wanted to get away. When I got a job at a very fancy horse farm, with the very fancy house, taking care of a very spoiled child and even more spoiled horses, I thought living there would make me feel better...nope. When I left New York for North Carolina at 17, I was convinced all it would take to finally get happy was a home of my own. I moved into my first apartment on my 18th birthday...again, it didn't make me happy, and so the quest began to buy a house. I really thought owning a house would give me that "thing" that I was missing. Three houses later I had my "dream house" and THOUGHT I would finally be happy...big sigh, again, nope.

It took walking away from the dream house to finally feel at home. I realize now, my desperate search for the "perfect house" was more about the desperate search for peace and happiness. Now that I am happy, feel secure, and can love and be loved, I no longer care where I live or what the house looks like...what I care about now is having a place of my own, where the Pea and I feel safe and secure, and my friends and family feel comfortable dropping by...with a bottle of wine...which you are welcome to do anytime BTW...just sayin'.

oh my

It just keeps getting better...I finally got her to change out of the PJs and this is what we are going shopping in...it is 76 degrees outside...notice the beads match the shirt, which is long sleeve, underneath a jacket, on top of a tank top...awesome.

rules

Never tell other people NOT to wear their PJs or slippers in public...it will come back to haunt you. The Pea INSISTED...INSISTED on wearing her new pjs out this morning. We started to have a fight about it, and it suddenly occurred to me that I was standing in my bedroom, half naked, screaming at a three year old and why? Who the f*ck really cares if the kid has on pjs, so I caved, told her she could wear whatever she wanted and to just hurry up cuz I needed coffee. She completed her ensemble (and these were NOT the pjs she wore to bed BTW, she CHANGED) with her slippers. Here is the funny part...we always go shopping after DD and as I pulled in the Target parking lot the Pea got all wide eyed and started SCREAMING at me "NO MOMMY, NO! We can't go INSIDE, I have my pjs on!" I turned around in my seat and said, "but you wanted to wear your pjs" Her reply: big sigh, eye roll and "Mommy, you CAN NOT wear pjs inside the STORE, only inside Dunkin Donuts, it's a rule." OHHH, well in that case...

So, to elaborate on my earlier post...No pjs to the beach, the mall, inside a store, or on a date...inside DD however, no problem...it's a rule.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

pjs at the beach
I didn't go to yoga today...was feelin' a little blah, missin' my Pea and wanted to get her early. I did go to the beach though, since I needed some exercise and fresh air. Strangest thing...saw a dude in pajamas...red, flannel, top and bottom, I think firetrucks, but didn't get close enough to be sure, pajamas. When I walked by the first time I thought, "Wow, I think that guy has on pjs...that can't be right." When I walked by, going the other direction, I thought "Yeah, definitely pjs, WTF?"

Now, I am a big fan of the pajama...especially the flannel bottom, happens to be my loungewear of choice at home. I have pink plaid, dancing cats, frogs with umbrellas, and silly dogs...they are fun, and paired with a tee, very comfy. I have never worn my pjs to the beach. Come to think of it; I have never worn my pjs in public, at all, unless you count a hotel lobby and that was only cuz they put the damn coffee in the lobby. I know these days we, as a nation, are much more casual with our dress...even the white house is relaxing it's rules, and hey I am all for that...I wear jeans to work everyday and am damn glad. There are a few things that just don't work though, in my opinion, so I thought I would share...don't worry, I won't call the fashion police on you if you wanna go against my advice, but if I catch you, I just might write about it.

Ok, first off: PJs...we already touched on it, but seriously, NO PJS to the beach, or for that matter; the grocery store, mall, outside in general, and definitely NOT on a date.

Along those lines: slippers. I have been guilty of this one myself, yes I have, shortly after the Pea was born in my hormone heavy, sleep deprived state, I left the house, headed for the mall. I was very proud of myself for getting her and I both ready...I had clean hair, jeans that fit (sort of) and had crammed my giant boobies in a sweater...she had on the cutest little outfit EVER and we were gonna go show off. About half way there I realized I never put my boots on...I still had on slippers. I made a u-turn so I could go home and change and laughed until I cried. NO SLIPPERS outside, unless you are just gonna run through a drive-thru, I say that cuz I do that all the time.

Ok, let me preface this one with: if you are young and thin and cute you can probably get away with it, but the rest of us, ESPECIALLY if you have a big ol' beer belly or giant boobies and go sans bra: NO. The wife-beater tank...really, not a good idea. I happen to own few, I wear them with my pjs...again though, not in public, plus mine are Black Dog and way cool...the white, ribbed yucky ones...ech.

Last: the sweat pant. And no, not Juicy or BCBG yoga pants, not cool athletic Addidas or Nike pants that you guys throw on over your shorts and look ha-ha-hottttt in...NO, I'm talking; grey Hanes, elastic waist, elastic ankle, sweat pants. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO...don't do it, ever...ever, never, ever, don't even own a pair, cuz ya know on laundry day you are gonna be tempted. They are not flattering on anyone, ANYone...not even Clooney could look hot in those...especially if they have pockets...OMG, I am laughing as I type just thinking about it.

Ok, think that about covers the biggies...there are more, hell I could go on for days, but those were the ones that popped in my head on the drive home from the beach...feel free to add a few of your own in the comments...I would love to hear. And yes, I know some of you guys hate the giant sunglasses on us girls, we look like bugs, or like we just had cataract surgery, so I will just get that one out of the way now, BTW, did you see my new picture? I cropped out the pjs and slippers.

naps

I just woke up from the best nap EVER...the Pea and I both fell asleep on the couch, she is still there, I extricated myself so I could get a quick peek at the computer. Ya know when you wake up from a deep sleep you weren't counting on, drool on the pillow, hair all jacked up, wonderin' what time it is and what the hell happened? Maybe that's just me...I knew I needed to catch up on some sleep, but when we curled up on the couch to watch a DVD I figured it would be like most Saturday afternoons; I would end up watching the DVD, she would end up asleep on me, and then the phone would ring, or I would decide I had had enough of Dora or George, and that would be that...I think I actually fell asleep before she did.

I wish I could take a nap everyday.

to clarify

Good day today...the Pea was finally able to go back to school and is feeling better, I was able to get out, get some shopping done, catch up with a few friends, and get my hair done. I love getting my hair and toes done...they are the only bit of "pampering" I allow myself with money tight, and as much as I would LOVE an occasional massage or facial, those I just can't bring myself to pay for. I have the best hairstylist, not only does she do a good job and "expertly" cover my greys with highlights, but she gives the BEST head massage...OMG it is nearly orgasmic.

Ohhhh, speakin' of orgasmic, apparently all my sex and relationship talk has sent out the message that I am desperate and sad since my orgasms are self induced these days. Hmmm, well just for the record, YES...I do WANT a man, YES, I am horny and would like to get me some, HOWEVER...I am not desperate, or ready to settle. An old friend, who has been reading, called today and we got on the topic and he said he hoped, for my sake, I was able to find a man soon, and just the other day, got an email to that effect from another. So, I went back and read a few old posts, and maybe I am sending that message, but to clarify; I DO NOT NEED A MAN...I WANT one, and I don't mind being single, AT ALL. I would rather be alone than with someone I don't like all that much. I guess I am lucky, since I have already been married and had a kid, I don't feel like time is running out for me, or that I need to get out there NOW, right now, or die alone...and while I would love to get married again and have more kids, I won't feel incomplete if it doesn't work out that way.

I know I could be having sex if I just wanted sex...hello, any reasonably attractive woman can walk into a bar and find a guy who has had enough to think she is worth taking home...I don't want that. I don't want random and casual...I don't want to be someone's booty call. I want to be with someone I like, trust, and respect who also likes, trusts, and respects me. I said that to the guy that called today and his response was "No one has that, just go get laid and stop worrying about it." Really? No one...I don't buy it...maybe he is right, but I'm not ready to wave that white flag yet. I don't need to be in love, I don't need candlelight, roses, and perfection, but I do want it to be good (and yes guys, there is such a thing as bad sex), and I do want to feel good about myself afterward...and if it is and I do, then I am gonna want to do it over and over again with that person. It is hard to do someone over and over again if you can't track him down because you don't know his name.

Besides...there is always bob...don't know if I like or trust him, but I know where to find him, and he is always available.

fly girls

Today's reason to drink: Yeah female pilots! In 1912, Harriet Quimby became the first woman to fly across the English Channel. Cheers! To all the female pilots who came before me, and all those flying now...you rock...btw Harriet Quimby was also the first licensed female pilot in the United States.

Hanging on the wall above my desk is a framed picture of Amelia Earhart and my solo shirt...I keep them there to inspire me...even though I never made it my career like I set out to, I am still proud that I got the certificate and learned how to fly. To this day, it reminds me that I can do most anything I want to, if I just decide to go for it, and choose to keep going when it gets tough. I had wanted to be a pilot for a long time, but was told by people who didn't know any better I couldn't. My gender and poor eyesight were given as reasons, and silly me didn't challenge. When I started working as a flight attendant I always got the question "Why did you want to be a flight attendant?" and my answer was always "Well, I wanted to be a pilot, but couldn't, so this was the next best thing." On my first trip with one particular Captain, we will call him Mcfly, I got this response "Well, it's not too late to be a pilot, you could learn how to fly now." He was the first person to ever say I could, and I actually believed him. A year later, after our airline went out of business and I wasn't able to find another FA job I wanted, he told me again, I should go to flight school, and I did. Not only did he instill in me the belief that I COULD do it, he helped me through...so Mcfly, wherever you are, thanks man, and cheers to you, for helping me along.

My daughter will live in a world where she will be able to be just about anything she wants to be without her gender being a factor in the decision, thanks, in part, to the following women, and the men in their lives who either inspired and encouraged or pissed off and challenged...and I, for one, can drink to that.

Amelia Earhart, the first woman to complete a solo transatlantic flight (1932) and the first person to fly solo from Hawaii to California (1935).

"Queen Bess" Bessie Coleman, an African-American woman, went to France in 1920 to become a pilot because she was refused the opportunity here in the states...she returned in 1921 with an international license and became a barnstormer.

Nancy Love and Jacqueline Cochran, who persuaded Gen. "Hap" Arnold to create the WASPs-Women Airforce Service Pilots...Cochran went on to become the first woman to break the sound barrier, in 1953, in a F-86 Sabre.

The WASPs, the 1000 women who flew in WWII from 1942-1945. They flew mostly ferry and test flights for the Airforce, and one; Ann B. Carl, became the first woman to fly a jet in 1944.

Thanks ladies.

wedding hell

Wondering what in THE hell I did before I had the Pea. She is sick, has strep (UCK!!!) and because she can't go to school at all this week and I HAVE to work cuz I have a project, DH and I had to change up the schedule, and as a result I am home alone, on a Tuesday, and I have no idea what to do with myself. Usually I am running around like a headless chicken trying to get dinner done, get her bathed, cuddle, read books, etc. etc., and instead I got nothin'...not complainin' about a little me time, but the thought occurred "I used to work less, not have a kid, and not chat or blog...what in the hell was I doing with my time?" I remember a lot of lolling, and watching tv, but still...wow.

Anyway...don't have a lot going on right now, which while good for the state of mind, is not necessarily good for the blog...without chaos and drama I don't have much to write about. Do have two new boys in my life...adding to my circle...don't know yet if they will be the "cry on the shoulder of, talk me off a ledge" boys, or just hang and make fun of me boys, but they are both smart, funny, and wicked cool so I'm glad they let me drag them into my crazy world...welcome, Partyman and Grey.

So speakin' of my crazy world...knee deep in crazy wedding planning hell...Booya and Georgie are getting married in the fall, Smash and J are getting married this summer...both at the beach, and both are in the midst of trying to get the weddings planned. No matter how small or simple you think a wedding is going to be, at some point the details get out of control, and piss you off. Poor Smash just called me, in a panic:

me: "hiya!"

her: "Hey, can't talk long, J just ran in the store, my dress came...it is HORRIBLE."

me: "Shit, really?...what is wrong with it?"

her: "It is heinous, it isn't the right color and it doesn't look right, and I am freaking out, and I don't know what to do and shit, J just came back, hi honey."

J: (in the background) "Were you talkin' about my private parts again?"

me: (laughing my ass off) "OMG."

her: "Yes...I gotta go, we will talk more later."

me: "Ok, love you, bye."

Last night, Booya and Georgie were talking about trying to register, and you could see the shoulders tensing up just talking about it...ya know, for something that is supposed to be the "best day of your life" there is an awful lot of yuck. I have never met a couple that didn't have issues, problems, and fights while planning. Ooooh, that is what I could be doing tonight with my extra time...helping them plan...

ORRRR...I could park it on the couch with the remote...there really is no contest there...sorry guys, you're on your own.

hunting cougars

HAPPY EASTER!!!!!

The Pea and I have had a really fantastic Easter so far, and with a big dinner at a girlfriend's planned for later, I suspect it will just get better. Seems like we have been celebrating for a week, and despite my attempts to keep the candy to a minimum the Pea is loaded down...I guess I can throw out the Halloween candy I have been rationing, and start on the Easter stuff. The Easter bunny did miss the mark on one thing..."he" left a bunny ballet DVD, thinking she would LOVE it. It was the first thing we HAD to open, and after putting it on and watching for a few minutes, the Easter bunny realized it was a VERY bad idea. It was actually dancers dressed up in animal costumes and it freaked her out..."Mommy turn it off, TURN IT OFF NOW, I DON'T YIKE!!" Oh well, the playdoh and beach toys were a hit.

So switchin' gears a little...in response to the crossed signals and milestone birthdays posts, I got an email from a bud, asking for advice, and instead of replying personally, I figured I would make it a post...who knows, someone else may benefit as well. Ok, his question was something along the lines of (and I am paraphrasing a little) "I am into a slightly older woman (he is in his twenties, and I don't know how old she is, but since he considers me old, I am guessin' late twenties, early thirties) and I have no idea how to approach her, or whether or not she will take me seriously...you are a hot cougar, how would you want to be approached...I am guessing asking the time is a no..."

OK, first off let me say; I don't think of myself as a cougar...oh sure I will joke some, and have been out with my, younger than me, guy buds and been teased mercilessly to that affect, but I don't as a rule, prowl for younger men. I have a type, and whether he is 25 or 50, if he fits it, he is probably someone I want to get to know better...also, while I was flattered by the hot comment, hotness is relative, and so I know to some I am, to others I am not. The trick will be (for me) to find someone I think is hot, who also thinks I am hot, and hope he is at least old enough that I don't get thrown in jail, or young enough that he can still get it up...that said, let me try to answer his question.

I think the best way to approach a woman (any woman, of any age) is simply "Hi." If she is a total stranger, wait for a hi back and then introduce yourself...if she smiles, and holds your gaze, introduces herself; keep talking...it doesn't mean she wants to f*ck you, you aren't "IN", but it DOES mean she doesn't want you to "go away, go away now, you are creeping me out." If she says nothing, or says hi and then turns her back, ignores you, walks away, looks at her phone etc., it is probably time to move on...she either is taken, not interested, not in the mood to be approached, or worst case; scared you are gonna mug her and dialing 9-1-1. After that, it really depends on where you are, or what you are doing...if you are in a bar or coffee shop; ask if you can sit with her or buy her a drink (don't tell her, or order and then give it to her, you wanna show confidence, not arrogance)...if you are at a park, the gym, the grocery store, just make small talk, and maybe compliment her on something other than her tits or ass (arms if she is athletic, it is so damn hard to get nice arms...or something she is wearing, reading, carrying), it really all depends on the situation. If it seems like there is a spark, and you just know when there is, ask her if you can get her number, or give her yours.

If you give her your number, and she works up the courage to call, you damn sure better answer your phone, or call her back in a timely manner if you can't. If you get hers, CALL...within 24 hours, or she is gonna get pissed and be like "WTF?" If she declines both, and you were pretty sure there was a spark, she is probably not available...just move on...it probably had nothing to do with you, your age, or what you said.

Ok, so if she is NOT a stranger...she is someone you see on a pretty regular basis, or you know from school, work, through friends, etc., just ask her out. Simple..."Hey, you wanna grab a drink or a coffee sometime?" If you are always hanging out in a group, I would add, "just the two of us." Once you are out, it is just a matter of getting to know each other, and finding out if you are compatible. Your age won't matter unless she needs an excuse to NOT see you again, but I suspect it won't be about your age, as much as it is about where you are in life, and your maturity level. I will say this: if you make a big deal about her age, she will make a big deal of yours, so DON'T. If you are always bringing up how "older women are hot," or you make a lot of jokes about how you "weren't born yet", or God forbid you call her a cougar...she will get turned off, and quick, and it won't have anything to do with your age, you will just suddenly seem very young to her, and immature.

It doesn't matter how old we are, we girls are flattered when a guy approaches...especially if he is a younger, hot, guy...we may not be available, or want to get to know him better, but we are flattered, so go for it...you will never know if you don't. Getting it to work beyond that, well hell, I am not the one to ask...I think chemistry (that spark) + compatibility (that is the tough one) + timing = the possibility of a great relationship. Good luck.

milestone birthdays

JD emailed me, shortly after midnight last night, with a suggestion for the blog...seems Elliot (his girl) is freakin' out a little because of an upcoming birthday and he couldn't figure out why, and wanted me to tell him, and all the other guys out there, wtf the big deal is...well JD sorry to disappoint, but I don't KNOW why women freak out when they approach certain ages...I myself had no problem turning 30. Lady and Mom recently had "milestone" birthdays as well and both weren't altogether happy about the number they were turning...I talked to mom at length about it, because when I called to wish her a happy birthday she wasn't all that happy, and it bummed me out.

Here is what I THINK...I think that male or female whenever you approach a landmark number, especially if everyone else is making a big deal out of it, you start to question whether or not you are where you thought you would be in life, relative to where you are. In general, if you have accomplished what you wanted to, or thought you could, and you are happy with the personal aspects (relationships etc.) you don't mind the number...if on the other hand; you are not completely satisfied (and let's face it, few are) the number starts to weigh on your mind. For women; 30, 40, 50 & 60 can be especially tough because if you are not completely confident in yourownself, the constant barrage of beautiful 20somethings all over the media can lead to feelings of insecurity.

Guess what Elliot, here's the real deal...being 30 is no different than being 29, no different than 31...IT DOESN'T MATTER, it is just a number. I myself was a mess in my twenties, and honestly most of the women I know can say the same, problem is you don't realize how big a mess you are until you aren't anymore, and can take stock and look back. Having a job, taking care of yourself, and paying your own bills; doesn't make you an adult, doesn't make you mature...having a rockin' hot 20something body, going through the motions of sex and doing what you think you should; doesn't make you sexy, or good in bed...having a degree, knowing facts and figures; doesn't make you wise...having people envy you; doesn't mean your life is great...ultimately your number doesn't matter...what matters is who you are and how you live...some people are lucky enough to figure it out in their 20s, for most, it is much later.

I had a TON of crazy life experiences before turning 30...I thought I had seen or done it all, I thought I was with it, and cool, and VERY MATURE...I also thought I had sex and relationships all figured out...I wasn't, and I didn't, and it wasn't until I got into my thirties that I realized it...if with each decade I gain the wisdom I have in the last; I am gonna be one awesome woman by the time I hit 60. Don't dread turning 30, embrace it, look forward to it...have a party and toast your new number. Vow to, from here on out, make sure every day counts...the key to not dreading milestone birthdays is to live the life you want, without regret, so that when they approach you aren't having to take stock and think about all the things you haven't done or you missed out on. Love openly, honestly, and fully, without holding back...take chances and welcome failure as an opportunity to learn and gain wisdom...be honest with yourself so that you can be honest with others...forgive yourself when you f*ck up and move on...don't wallow in self pity or get caught up in who you aren't, celebrate who you are, and if you don't like her much; change.

Life is short...be glad you are turning 30 because there are plenty of people who never made it that far...embrace EVERY birthday with gratitude...HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

speeding chickens

No Clooney fantasies on the way to work this morning (and no, no rubbin’ of the bug either) but I did have the pleasure of lookin’ at about a hundred chicken butts. Yeah, that was fun…I was on the phone with Smash and we were having our usual ridiculous conversation about everything and nothing and she was complaining about the fact that she had some slow ass m*thr%f#ckr in front of her and damnit she was tired and wanted to get home when I started just cracking up. As she was talking about the guy in front of her, a big ass semi, loaded down with about a thousand cages loaded with at least a half a dozen chickens per cage, pulled out in front of me, and all I could see were chicken butts…well and one set of legs…one little guy had flipped upside down (that can’t be good) and his feet were sticking straight up.

So I realize in reality those poor little guys were headed for (shudder) their ultimate demise, and eventually the top of my Caesar salad, but in that moment all I could think was “well at least you don’t have the possibility of having your car covered in chicken shit,” and that cracked me up.

Managed to get to work without a showering of crap, Smash got home without ramming the guy in front of her, and it has been a great day…even without George showin’ up to pay me compliments and ask me the time.

crossed signals

I was driving home tonight, and on the radio came a little blurb about "octomom" which made me think of Angelina, which made me think about Brad, which made me think about George Clooney, which made me horny. I was driving down the interstate at just under 80mph, and despite becoming rather adept and efficient at getting myself off (as I have gone longer than any adult human should without sex) I can't for the life of me figure out how there is any way possible to rub the bug, in the car, with jeans on, on my drive home. It would be rather cool if I could swing it, cuz two hours in a car, alone, can get rather boring, and how better to pass the time, but I don't wanna be that woman who tied up traffic on the interstate cuz I caused a 10 car pileup with my hand down my pants.

Ok, so obviously I am a horn dog, with no relief in sight, and in an effort to "put myself out there" I have been checking out some of the more popular "webzines" that are all about dating, relationships, and sex. Baby steps folks...I REALIZE sitting in front of the computer, by myself, in my pajamas, after the Pea has gone to bed is not TECHNICALLY out there, but I am getting some good pointers. One of the sights I check periodically is TheFrisky.com...you have heard me rave...John DeVore is awesome at allowing a little peek into the male mind, and Amelia has started dating again after an awful breakup and since I see her as a younger, hotter, slightly cooler, version of myself, I am living vicariously through her and her dating escapades. Well, anyway...the other day they picked up on an article that had run in Men's Health which gave men "sure fire signs a woman is into them." Ah ha, hahahh haha haha ahhhh hahahahahahhaha...O.M.G. I was practically laughing out loud reading, because if they are the signs that I am into someone, I am INTO all the men and most of the women I work with, my neighbor (who is a retired lady, btw), a random dude at Buffalo Wild Wings, and the teacher of the 4 yr old class at the Pea's school.

According to the article if; when a guy asks the time, you answer with anything OTHER than the time...a guy looks into your eyes for longer than what seems normal, and you hold his gaze...or, you accept a compliment with a smile and a thank you...you are totally IN.TO.HIM. Yeeeeaaaahhhhhh, ok.

Usually when someone asks me the time, while I am pulling up my sleeve to look at my watch, I make a joke...if I am at work it is something to the effect of "time to go to lunch" or "time to get the hell out of here" and if that means I am into the asker, I am sooooo in love with my office mate (who happens to be a 60something grandma). If an attractive guy asks me the time, I am usually so focused on making sure I tell him the CORRECT time, cuz I don't want to make an ass out of myself, I stick to just that, the time.

The whole gaze thing...nope...sorry, nuh uh. I am one of those people who looks into the eyes of ANYONE I am talking to...I think it shows respect, and that you are listening...I also happen to just like eyes, and like looking into them...I make a POINT of looking into the eyes of people in authority whenever they are talking to me, and if that is translating into "I wanna f*ck you," there are three bosses and a chick in accounting I probably need stop lookin' in the eye...oopsie.

OK, the last, and definitely MOST absurd, the compliment deal. If smiling and accepting a compliment with a thank you means "lets go bump our naughty parts" I am IN TROUBLE, cuz there are girls all over the state who have complimented me on various shoes and clothing, my hair, my glasses, you name it, and I ALWAYS answer (looking into their eyes no less, OMG) with a smile and a thank you. There are men who vary in age from 20-80 who have complimented my golf swing, my writing, my potty mouth, my back muscles...not to mention my assorted other parts, and YES, I know a few WERE hitting on me, and YES there have been a few over the years I was "into" when I responded with the smile and the thank you, but GOOD GOD PEOPLE...SERIOUSLY!? WTF.

Sounds like I am gonna have to get myself in check...I mean, I know I am desperate, but I had no idea I was sending signals to the entire state of North Carolina...and I knew I was out of practice with the whole single scene, and how to send a signal and play the game, but wow...wow, and next time I compliment someone and they smile, does that mean they wanna do me? If a dude holds my gaze, should I just jump him right there? Something to ponder while I drive tomorrow morning...long as I don't start thinking about Mr. Clooney...who BTW could ask me the time and compliment me on...well hell, pretty much anything, and I don't care HOW I react, I would soooo want to bump naughties with.

more later

Well Carolina won...you would think since Mom and B both went to Chapel Hill I would bleed carolina blue, and be crazy excited, but I don't (gasp!), and I'm not. I hung in for the first half of the game, but decided they had it pretty much under control with or without me watching, so I went to bed. I am more excited about baseball season, despite my Yanks getting stomped in their opener...that and The Masters, which starts Thursday.

Well that's all I got this morning...I haven't had enough coffee for much else...more later.

spring

I am declaring my two week hiatus into hell officially over and that it is now Spring...I know the new season technically started a few weeks ago but I was too busy wallowing and it was still pretty damn cold. In my book it isn't really Spring until you start going outside in the mornings and there is not a bit of chill in the air, you have to start mowing the lawn, and well, it just feels like it. I mowed my lawn for the first time this year, yesterday, and the Pea and I had one of those really great days where we not only got out and had lots of fun, but we also managed to get a few things accomplished. It was a great mommy day, we laughed and enjoyed ourselves, we worked together on the yard, and we just enjoyed it.

We started yesterday with an Easter Egg hunt, headed to DD for coffee and doughnuts, spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon at a horse show and then spent the late afternoon and evening in the yard. I got it mowed, got some weeding done, and managed to edge one side of the driveway. I would have been able to do the entire driveway, if I actually owned an edger, but since I don't, and was on my hands and knees with a trowel, I got tired quick, and gave up. I guess it is time to invest in more tools...or go steal them from DH.

Today started on a good note with the Pea allowing me to hang in bed until 8:30...she didn't let me sleep mind you..no, no, but she did let me loll around and be lazy, and for that I am grateful. We headed to the beach after that for a nice brunch and then digging. That is all we ever really do at the beach, dig. Every once in awhile she likes to take a walk or collect seashells, but for the most part we dig and then fill in holes...fun and games. We are home now...under the guise of getting the house cleaned and laundry done, but since I am on the computer, I really don't see that happenin'.

I am glad to be feelin' better, and to have a more upbeat outlook on things overall...I have high hopes for the new season bringing some peace and happiness...I also hope to get my butt busy writing more so you have more to read...HAPPY SPRING!

friday night

I am feeling better and things are looking up, but I am still a little blah...I have been single for eight months and I still haven't gotten the hang of it...this was a post from August and I thought I would re-run it 1)cuz I don't feel like writing and 2)cuz I feel the same way now as I did then...I thought by now I would have the hang of it, I thought for sure I would be out there, flirting, dating, having fun...luckily; it has been too cold for snakes, but seriously...when do I get my moxie back?

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

hazards of being single
The Pea is in bed, Gigi is with family that has come into town to visit, and Smash is working...this is when being single is hard. It's not that I need a man, I would just like to talk to a fellow adult. I have had enough Dora and Diego for one day, and I would love to sit down with someone above the age of 3, maybe have a glass of wine, and hang. Usually on Wednesday nights I meet Gigi for dinner, but tonight she had to cancel, so I'm home, watching bad TV and playing on the computer.

Thing is, I like being by myself...I don't mind being alone, watching a movie, or reading or just hanging out, I just don't like it ALL the time. This single thing carries with it other hazards besides being alone, like having to deal with snakes and spiders all by yourownself...last night I had a snake on my deck. Don't know if it was poisonous or not, don't much care...but there I was at 11o'clock and all I could do was cuss the little bastard out.

When I went outside with the dog to get her some water, I reached down to turn on the water and ended up in a deck chair. It all happened pretty fast, so I don't remember exactly how it went down, but the snake reared up, opened it's mouth and hissed at me, I did a Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon spinning leap, and then out of my mouth came every cuss word I know, as well as a few I didn't think I knew. On top of that, my first instinct after doing another spinning, jump move to get back in the house was not to just get a shovel or other killing instrument and kill the damn thing myself...NOOOOO, instead I wanted to call every man in my contact list and tell them to get the hell over here and kill the g-damn thing for me! I guess I'm not the big bad independent girl I thought I was...damnit.

It's not just snakes and spiders I now have to deal with, now I have to navigate the treacherous dating waters...as a married girl I had an enormous amount of moxie and with nothing on the line didn't worry how I was perceived by "the single guy." If he was hot, I could revel in the fact that he thought I was too and go through the rest of the day on a little high that I still had it...if he wasn't, I could just flash my left hand, smile, and walk away. Now I have to...what? Now if I like him I want to keep talking, but then of course I risk rejection and embarrassment and holy hell...I am fresh out of moxie. Tonight at the gym a guy opened with, "how many gigs on your ipod?" my witty reply? "Beats the hell out of me." What?! What the hell was that, I should have smiled, said something nice, introduced myself...he was nice enough, good looking, tall, late 30's early 40's...I was definitely flattered, especially since I was without makeup, hair up, and sweaty, but now what? Next time I see him do I say hi? Duck and run? Oh boy...

yo gabba huh?

Well I made it through yesterday and last night and am feeling much better today. I still have no desire to eat or be around food though, so I figured; instead of a lunch break, I would sit at my desk and write. Upon arriving home last night I crashed on the couch, and the Pea took care of me by: bringing me juice, patting my forehead with her little palms, kissing my nose and asking, every minute and a half or so, if I felt better. Well, since she was doing the caretaking, I figured it only appropriate that she got to pick the television programming and she, like she always does, asked for “my shows, mommy, my shows” which meant Noggin.

For those of you who don’t have the pleasure of small children at home; Noggin is a whole network for kids, without commercials, and is fantastic. Some of the programs though, are rather strange when you really take a close look (hell some of them are strange without the closer look). The other night I had a whole conversation with Mclovin about the bizarre nature of some of the shows because he called while I was hanging with the Pea and was surprised I was watching Max and Ruby instead of either basketball or golf. Unfortunately for me, if the Pea is awake, watching anything OTHER than what is on Noggin is a tough sell…here were some of my thoughts on a few of the shows we watch regularly.

Ok, Max and Ruby…two bunnies, older sister, little brother, everyday a new episode in which Ruby tries to accomplish something, Max pretty much screws it up, and then in the end it all works out. Does anyone else find it strange that there are NO parents? Grandma is around once in awhile, but she doesn’t live there, has her own place, and Max and Ruby are going about the day, cooking, cleaning, taking baths, not to mention their trips into town or over to a friend’s house on the bus…all by themselves. Ruby, as best I can tell, represents a six or seven year old, Max a two or three year old. Now granted, I was pretty unsupervised as a kid and did all those things as well, and Ruby seems to have a pretty good head on her shoulders for a rabbit, but HELLO? Weird.

Speakin’ of unsupervised; Dora the Explorer…Dora has parents, but she goes off into the world on all kinds of crazy adventures without them and with a pet monkey. I think there is a lady in Stamford CT who will tell you pet monkeys: NOT a good idea…but besides that, seriously…Dora gets into cars, takes hot air balloon rides, sails on boats…all without a parent and with a monkey…not only that, have you noticed the size of her head? It is freakin’ huge…HUGE…it disturbs me.

OOOH, talk about disturbing…ever watch Yo Gabba Gabba? Let me TRY to explain for those of you who haven’t…little tranny guy in a shiny orange jumpsuit and faux fur hat dances around with puppets that turn into life size “things,” interspersed with clips of kids dancing and random people doing random things. The one eyed puppet that looks like a dildo…CREEPTACULAR…the Pea loves the show, LOVES it…it frightens me.

I always wonder while watching these shows…who are the adults that put these things together? Are they kids at heart who act all silly and prank each other all day or are they stoners who sit around getting high and just throwing out random ideas to a chorus of “Totally man, that will be awesome…anyone seen the Cheetos?” And what about the people who do music for kids…ever watch a kid’s music video? Wardrobe alone will make you wonder what these people are smoking and how you can get some. Last night, don’t know if it was the dehydration and exhaustion or just a contemplative mood but, I got to thinking…is it just me, or do other mommies sit on the couch, head cocked to one side, eyebrows raised and think W.T.F?