Some things never change

Last night I invited two ladies who I have done business with for the past 3.5 years for drinks for the holiday.  Now I met these women when I started my job and consider them my mentors.  I have thoroughly enjoyed learning more about them and they becoming more than business acquaintances and more than my mentors, they are my friends.  I respect their opinions and have sought their advice on career choices and networking.  Last night I had every intention of thanking them again for all they have done and then turning the conversation back to me and what advise they may have for me in some issues I am having at my job right now (no, not the guy, literally, the job).  However, the conversation turned quicker into a gab and gossip fest than I could have imagined and it was amazing!  These two women both in their 40s, both single, both who travel the world on a weekly basis, and both whom I have more in common with than I ever imagined.  It is really great to know that no matter how professional you are in the work field, that we women are nothing more than girls on the inside ready to gossip!

One woman we will call, Sahar, who I have admired for so long told a story about her first date and used the phrase "all he wanted was a kiss and to make sweet love".  The other woman and I nearly died!  Tears fell from my face from laughter as I looked on at this Turkish woman who did not realize the implications this phrase would have.  The other woman, Diba, was hilarious.  We started swapping dating stories, hers way more exciting than mine and when I told her about the thief?? Her jaw dropped to the floor and she said to me "you need help"!  She's right, I do.  She offered to set me up with someone in Afghanistan, this would be better than what I have now?  Well...yes.  We laughed until we cried, it was an evening that took a twist that I could have never imagined!  It was amazing.  Some things just never change between women, wine and gossip.  When I informed them I had just had my third laproscopy, Diba told me with Sahar in agreement "you need to have more sex".  WHAT?  How could this be coming out of their mouths?  How will that change anything with my issues? But then I realized, maybe they are right. Look at their lives.  They are successful, travel the world, have plenty of self earned money, have men all over the globe and a back up plan as well.  Maybe that is the answer, keeping myself sheltered has gotten me thieves and morons...Let's see what comes of this advise.  I will probably consider it but never find myself able to actually go through with it.  However, maybe it has given me the courage to be more adventurous.  Maybe trying a new restaurant isn't enough, maybe finally cashing in those miles I have worked so hard to build and trying a new restaurant in Ireland will do it.  

This is the time of year where New Year's Resolutions are coming, time to make changes, make admissions to yourself, forget the past and move on to the present...What will your resolutions be? 

To play or not to play the game

So recently I've been faced with the question on whether or not it is more fun to play the game or get out before the 7th inning stretch.  So I thought it would be a good idea to find someone and keep him at an arms length.  Tell them getting close not good because I'm too much older he being 25.  So I decided to have the balls in this scenario and tell him it could go nowhere, that it would be our secret.  Only to think that the first run in we had would be our last.  Unfortunately I was shocked by his sudden urge in texts and calls the following week.  Every day numerous texts, a few flirty, mostly funny and some good conversations on the phone.  However, I made it my mission to make sure he realized this was nothing more than a secret. And then it happened...he disappeared before I had a chance to realize I had already developed a crush.  He pulled his texts out from under me.  So the question here is, did I get played or did I actually play it too well that I caught myself off guard??  So what does one do at this point? Play it cool, something I have never been known for? Do I actually pursue a reasoning behind what happened when I should realize the reason was me saying "don't get any ideas"?  I'm certain it is for the better that this has gone nowhere significant, however, I found someone I liked hanging out with and more importantly I enjoyed the attention I was getting from him.  So in the end, this blows. I was ready to close down 2010 with a fling for the book...but instead I'm ending it with silence.  Bummer.


Sometimes I amaze myself at the stuff that comes out of my mouth and then the things that come into my life.  Here's to hoping I will at some point be playing the game with someone who knows how to deal with the cards I have dealt...

On the mend

It has been a while since my last update. Since I last wrote, we have had Thanksgiving and eaten too much with our families and friends, at least I hope you all did too.  I have also had a 4 hour surgery, as I have referred to it, to save my sanity.  At 19 I was diagnosed with the condition called Endometriosis.  To learn more about it, just click on the word.  This has been something I have struggled with, tried to hide from and tried desperately every which way to rid myself of the pain.  I have had 3 laproscopic surgeries in 12 years, I have been put on induced medical menopause for 6 months (that was a nightmare for me and anyone who came within a 1 mile radius), I have tried 8 different types of birth control pills, I have given up red meat and Peter Pan Peanut butter among other pallet delicacies to try to slow the condition from spreading and I have cried endlessly to OBGYN's, Gastroenterologists, Internists, my parents, my sisters, and my friends. I begged for a hysterectomy at 19 and at 26, I have suffered night sweats and hot flashes, I have left work, missed nights out, carried pain killers and muscle relaxers on every trip, I have become immune to some pain killers and gotten mildly addicted to others after each surgery only to painfully pull myself off of them.

This last surgery, just last Tuesday was the one to "save my sanity".  In September of 2009 I had an episode that made me have an emergency appointment with my doctor, she proposed doing the surgery again, but I put that suggestion aside. Last March I had an awfully painful incident which sent me back to the doctor, she again proposed doing the surgery, but this time not by her but with a specialist.  In April I went on the girls weekend trip and discussed all of the issues that I had been having quite openly with my friends. Never did they know the full extent of all the pain, discomfort, embarrassment, frustration and effects this condition had on my body, my mind and my life.  They agreed with my doctor emphatically "HAVE THE SURGERY".  I got no less than 8 emails / texts from each of them following that weekend with one of two phrases "I'm still hurting from the weekend" and "Have the surgery".

It wasn't until August that I made the appointment with the "Endo" specialist.  A long 5 hour appointment of being poked and prodded and put out for display and an hour and a half of discussions involving the phrases "you could have it much worse" and "you will always live with Endometriosis" but only one sentence that struck a positive chord with me "I will get everything out that remotely looks like it and we will find a treatment to help you." It was the first male OBGYN I had seen since my first diagnosis in 1998, but I felt comfortable with him. Though his analogies comparing me to a plane ride or house hunting scenario didn't exactly sit right with me, he was jolly and optimistic. Something I had missed in a doctor for a while now.

So here I sit on the mend, recovering from 4 hours of surgery with four incisions in my stomach and abdomen. I sit here quietly hoping that something that would typically have triggered a symptom will creep up and I will find that I am at a painless peace again, for at least a while.  However, the pain trigger can't be pulled like the flip of a light switch.  Instead, I must wait patiently to find that one day I will realize I didn't have pain that month, that time, in that instant. Instead, I trusted my body, something I haven't done for years now, and I have relaxed.  I'm hopeful, so extremely hopeful and optimistic that I will have at least a few years of normalcy, perhaps a more restricted diet (but a sacrifice I am willing to make) and just maybe at peace with my body. 

Now I realize this is one of the un-funnier topics I could write on a blog about my single life.  However, there is a point to this post, as I try to make one every time.  I believe now, this tidbit of information, may give you some insight as to not only why I am still single, but why I am a bit neurotic, somewhat timid and all around closed off when it comes to the non-emotional side of a relationship.  You see, this isn't information I share with every suitor, it usually comes up in a relationship, but try using the words "ovaries" "Fallopian tubes" and "uterus" on a date, be it first, third or tenth.  Here's how the conversation goes in their minds:

me: I have scar tissue on my ovaries and

interruption in their mind: her ovaries? Is she talking about wanting babies?

me continuing: Fallopian tubes

interruption in their mind: Fallo-what? Tube? She wants me to get tested with a tube?

me continuing: and uterus and I feel a lot of pain, a lot of the time.

interruption in their mind: Great, she's telling me this information to let me know she's been hurt a lot.  Shit, I wasn't looking for anything that serious yet.  I gotta get out of this. Let me just tell her it will be okay and she doesn't need to talk about it because I can tell it isn't easy.  Then, let's get out of this situation before she talks about tubes again.

Seriously though, it isn't an easy conversation with someone new or serious because in the serious stage then you have to share that having children naturally may not be a possibility.  This is a conversation I have with my therapist about 3 times a year, but the first I have had now, with the world of readers.  So if you know of anyone who has Endometriosis, give them a little space and an ear, because unfortunately, sometimes the only way to help the pain of having this condition is to scream, cry and eat Peter Pan Peanut butter your way through it.

It is December, the month for Holiday parties, too many holiday spirits and a time for a boat load of embarrassing single stories...I will not let you down!  Happy holidays, stay safe, smart and sober at work...:)

My Scarlett Letter

I write this blog to share the journey I am on as a single woman fighting the dating war.  Losing one battle after another, but still feeling pretty strong.  This past weekend I went to my 15th bachelorette party since 2003.  15 bachelorette parties, 15 lingerie showers, 2 chauffeurs, 400 glasses of wine, 0 strippers, 1 passion party, countless laughs and the 15th time to meet my neighbors in Singleville.  At times I fee like it is population 1.  This weekend of 17 attendees, there were 4 residents of Singleville, woo-hoo!  Since I was one of the hosts of the party, I made it my mission to find party favors.  I found masks to wear!  Similar to Mardi Gras masks, but just a tad cheaper and a bit more ghetto. Each of them had a descriptive word that everyone got to choose to wear.  Only 6 came in a package, so I purchased 3 packages.  The descriptive words to choose from were: 

• Sexy
• Wild
• Tease
• Bad
• Flirt
• Single

Now since I was the host, I wanted to make sure everyone got what they wanted.  I got what was inevitably going to be mine anyway.  Even 2 of the 4 singles, didn't take single.  Here I am realizing the irony of my cute little gift:

One more crazy night of laughing, drinking, embarrassing, giving, being and having.  and I wonder why I am still single?  Maybe it is because I choose to flaunt the stupidity of my antics on here or because I wear a mask on my head that says single or by chance I am still single because I am actually looking for what humorous story will come out of the next relationship or non-thereof and an sabotage each of them for a good laugh.  Well really I can't get that laugh without them doing something ridiculous. Anyway, I just thought I would share that I don't only act single by anonymity on here, I do it in person as well.

Happy thanksgiving all!

30 Things Every Woman Should Quit Doing By 30

I just read this and found it quite funny...Happy friday!

30 Things Every Woman Should Quit Doing By 30

I'm not broken

I've had a full week now to come to terms with the fact that I was just completely deceived by this man I thought I could possibly date further. Now, let's not kid ourselves, I started questioning him 2 dates in, but I like to look at life through rose colored glasses, or some might say with my eyes shut, but either way, I was enjoying myself.  It is funny though, I called in who I refer to as my army, my friends, to divulge this story from end to end so that I wouldn't have to go through the agony of retelling it and at that point refacing the same humiliation.  However, something has changed in me. I now find it unbelievably funny and I'll tell anyone who asks any question that will remotely make me think of this incident. Such as:

random friend: "Want to grab some sushi?" 

me: "Oh, last time I talked to this guy that stole from me he mentioned eating sushi." 

random friend: "What?"

or

Guy filling my tire with air: "Oh, I see the problem, you have a nail in your tire"

me: "There is construction going on in my place, but I bet the last guy I dated pilfered some of the air from my tire to put in his clunker and used a nail to hold it since he is a vagrant and stole money from me."

Guy filling my tire with air: "Okay. So would you like me to fix the tire?"

I have managed to make something that 3 years ago would have had me questioning my choices, my sanity and my entire life into something I will use to make other people's jaw drop and get a chuckle out of them if I can.

I have realized in this past week, I'm not broken.  I'm cracked and I let in the dirt sometimes, but as the saying goes "put a little duct tape on it and it'll be fixed".  So I've duct taped the cracked area that let a drunken vagrant who tells lies of a life he wishes he had (and shoot, I wouldn't mind meeting someone who did actually have that life) and I've sealed him off.  Who's next?  I wait with eager anticipation. Will it be Mr. Perfect?  No, no, no, I'm convinced he will be the next Mr. Perfect Story.  Who am I kidding? There is no Mr. Perfect, only the one that is perfect for me and as of late, the ones that are perfect for me are the ones that fill my life with humor.  On to the next passenger on my dating train wreck!

Fool me once, fool me twice...

I'm not quite certain how to begin this entry, I actually am about to shock you if you have kept up with the blog.  Have you ever heard of the store, Charming Charlie's?  Well it is a cute place with tons of costume jewelry and knock off handbags and the such.  I bring this up because of the "Charming Charlie" that I realized I have been dating.  This fellow, the one I have told you about in the last few blogs, the boy who was charming and such a gentleman, who gave me compliments and paid for everything.  About 2 weeks ago I started to have some concerns and about 24 hours ago I was given notice my concerns were well founded.  So, here goes...

I invited him to meet my friends.  We had a lovely night.  Lots of laughs and a few drinks as well.  Before we left to go on this date I went to the ATM to get out some money on the off chance he let me pay for anything and also because I wanted some cash on hand for Sunday.  As the night went on he would not let me pay for anything.  So Sunday rolls around and there are a few missing links in the previous night.  One being the one glass of wine we had out of the bottle we opened at my house was now empty, an empty bottle of rum which I did not drink was on my counter, an empty bottle of Jack Daniels and Maker's Mark were in my liquor cabinet and I'm not usually one to put empty bottles back in the cabinet.  And the $100 in cash I had was now missing $40.  This wasn't adding up but I had to make myself believe that he couldn't have done all these things, he's too much a southern gentleman...He called me Darlin'...nobody says darlin' and takes booze and money from you.  So I chose to ignore this...sort of.

I invited him to join me at my monthly dinner club on Thursday night, he was excited to attend.  Come Tuesday, he was maybe going to have a work thing on Thursday.  This is fine by me.  We have only been out for a month, he doesn't need to spend time with my friends twice in a week and clearly his job should come before me...at this point.  He was going to have to drive to Austin and wouldn't be back until late.  He called me Wednesday night at 10:13 PM saying he was in a cab in a town about 45 minutes from here because he was looking at a leasing space for a client.  Odd to be looking at a space for a client at 10:13 at night, but what do I know about commercial leasing, I plan events for a living.  Still, one more thing I put in the red flag pot.

Thursday comes along and he texts me asking about my event, how everything went at the biggest conference of the year for me.  So sweet, he cares.   I asked him how things were going in Austin...twice, he didn't answer. He may not have seen this question since he was either making copies at FedEx/Kinko's or buying a rug at the Oriental Rug Mart since when I was driving home I saw his car parked there....2 blocks from my house.  Hmmmm...  Time passes on, I go to my dinner club, laugh with my friends about this situation, find it weird he didn't respond, but what explanation does he owe me?  My friend and I were having such a good time we decided to continue the evening at a neighborhood watering hole and stopped in to have a glass of wine.

Guess who we ran into?  Charming Charlie himself.  Seriously.  The odds of this are uncanny.  This is a bar about 3 blocks from my house, it is apparently about 2 miles from his house (I have never been to his house, but am going by where he told me he lives).  Once he sees me, an interesting exchange follows.  I inform him that I don't trust him...I mean, keep in mind that during this one month of dating he has:  Told me he was once engaged when I asked if he had been married on our first date, and I learn on date two he had in fact been married before for a short period of time; he may or may not have stolen $40 and drank me out of house and home on date number 3; and now he has decided to avoid his location to me on what could have been date numero 4. Because I like the attention I get from Charming Charlie I decided to let him apologize and accept it after a little bit of arguing.  I knew I wasn't going to end up being Mrs. Charlie, who argues and loses trust in someone only one month in and keeps trying at a relationship, but I didn't necessarily want the fun to end right now either.

Come Saturday night, sitting at my parents house, pouring myself a bourbon and diet coke and discussing this odd interaction with him to my mother.  She says to me, "If I knew something about him, would you want me to tell you?"  Ummm...yes, please, tell me what you know about this fellow, who is from another state, who is 39 and with whom you have nobody else in common.  I figured she did some background check on him, but in actuality she found some information out another way.  Well, it turns out I'm not the only one he stole money from, $40 to be exact, and apparently a drinking problem is the least of the worries, oh and we also discovered there is a lapse in his occupation history.

So things with this charmer are done, I'm assuming he knows I am suspecting him since I haven't heard from him in two days, but I'm not exactly feeling ready to call him now and end it, I'd like to wait until he reaches out.  Mind you I will not use his real name because of the slight fear I have of any repercussions, however, you literally cannot make this up.  I swear to you, this is real.  Now I'm back out in the field again, just hypersensitive to my cash, my booze, and of course my trust.  WOW.  Right??

Loose for Lose

Lately I keep seeing people misuse the word "loose" for "lose" when making status updates on Facebook.  Now, I'm no word snob, shoot, it takes nearly an hour to post something because I spend so much time on word, editing its content.  However, it still drives me crazy because to lose a game is not the same as to loosen a belt buckle.  But it has got me thinking.  To lose your shirt will in turn, make you loose.  To lose your pants, well, clearly, you are "loosey goosey".  So it is funny to me these words that get exchanged for one another in the wrong context can actually be used to narrate a story better when used together.

This isn't a grammar lesson of the day, it is actually a lead into my story with, as my sister calls him, 39. Or as you all know him, "vodka goggle date". Our exchange has continued, daily texting with a flirt or two for effect or an email or 6 throughout the day if the texting is too tedious for yours truly.  This is a guy who listens so intently to all I say, proof being every time he tries to tell me one more thing I said on the first night we met and I have to tell him to hush and not dwell on the past... because, apparently, my mouth after vodka is a sea of stupidity.  Why this guy wanted to go out with me again is still utterly lost on me. I can guaranty you it isn't because I was "loose". Anyway, we have since had a second rendezvous.

I was a little timid to put out there I would like to see him again, as the vibes he was putting out there was that he enjoyed my texts and emails but I wasn't getting that he was much interested in seeing me in person, since he hadn't yet asked me out again.  So I can't beat around the bush, I'm a girl who needs answers or my brain gets flooded with incoherent scenarios. So put it out there I did (not put out, just to clarify another use of the word exchange) and he accepted. I'd say that this past Saturday night I had one of the most fun dates I have ever had.  Ol' 39 came over with two bottles of wine and we sat on my couch until 3 in the morning just talking. Literally, keep your minds out of the gutters, just talking.  See, I kept the conversation loose, not my body, and I think that actually kept me from not losing out on a 3rd date.  It only took me 31 years to realize my conversation skills actually can keep someone interested. Or the fact that I have the most comfortable couch ever and nobody wants to leave it.

So here we are planning date number 3 and this is all new territory.  I'll keep you posted as my stupidity sea mouth is now closed for business since Vodka has left the building; however, this isn't to say that I can't finagle amazing moments of sober stupidity as well.  As always...stay tuned.  PS: He mentioned to me on our super fun date that I should have a site up for some of my stories...at what point do I tell him? hahaha!

Update on the vodka goggle blind date

So the guy I met when I was 16 sheets to the wind two weeks ago and I did actually go on a date.  He is quite possibly the biggest gentleman I have ever had the pleasure of going out with on a date.  Of course, you do realize what this means....it totally freaked me out.  A guy who gave me compliments, pulled out my chair, opened my door, paid for a nice dinner out and made me laugh right out loud, is clearly on the train to my freakouttown.

Unfortunately I'm not sure how I get myself into these situations. I say I want attention and honesty, but when I finally get it, it feels suffocating and desperate.  But the second I don't hear from him I feel as though I've acted in inappropriately to his attention and run him off.

I have realized in this little situation that I actually have no idea how to date successfully, well clearly, you all knew that from reading this blog from the beginning, but I'm just coming to the realization that I'm clueless at it.  I don't know how to "be cool" I'm not quite certain the secret to "don't overanalyze" and I'm utterly lost on "knowing what is in front of me".

Now you may be thinking, didn't she just go out on a first date with this guy last week?  Yes.  Are you now thinking, is she a bit coo-coo for cocopuffs with these type of thoughts.  Not really.  It just means that every person that comes in and out of my life I analyze their potential to actually be a part of my life in the very beginning.  I have successfully figured out each of the attributes of this guy that would make me like him and want to go out with him again while simultaneously figuring out the things I don't like nor would be sad to not have in my life.  This is the best protection mechanism.

So, I'll keep you posted if this crazy goes out again with the southern gentleman, but in the mean time, for anyone who cared, it was a lovely evening with lots of laughs and I'm still lost in the city!

Powerpoints and Wine

I'm taking a break from putting together a PowerPoint that very well may be the thing that does me in completely.  I can't stand PowerPoint, I am not impressed with their animations nor their picture input abilities.  Because it isn't the actual PowerPoint that has this ability, it is the tired, board schmuck who spends their time animating every picture, every letter and every word by fading in and out and bouncing up and down and perhaps even spinning enough to make whoever is watching or organizing it sick to their stomach.

This I have realized is similar to boxed wine.  I went to a bachelorette party this past weekend, for the 15th wedding of which I will be partaking as a bridesmaid.  I've lost my filter and I've lost my ability to pretend to be classy.  As I'm purchasing her lingerie gift from the target clearance isle I think I will kill two birds with one stone and go ahead and get the wine I am supposed to bring from target as well.  NOW, target does have bottles of wine and some actually worth taking to parties.  BUT they also have boxed wine, it comes in fun colors and is in the shape of a square, not a rectangle which is actually, to me, more appeasing.  So I thought, instead of buying 4 bottles of 12.99 wine, why don't I buy one box which equals 4 bottles of $16.99 wine.  The economy is in bad shape people, it is time to prioritize. Well, when I consumed alone about 2 bottles of the 4 in the box on Friday night and am currently suffering from what some people call vertigo, the mixture of the two the morning after is like watching a high powered highly animated PowerPoint presentation.

It is just sickening enough to make your head spin and make you think about yesterday's poor choice in meals, but not quite strong enough to get the job done.  Oh the agony of the box wine "headspinache".  I spent the better part of Saturday morning holding on to the ground, the actual ground, to make sure it wasn't actually spinning.  

Sunday I came into work to work on this mind-blowing PowerPoint in an office which doesn't turn the AC on during the weekends and had to watch pictures spin, twirl, fade, bounce and dissolve for nearly 4 hours.  Once this son of a bitch of a PowerPoint is complete, I plan to celebrate, possibly with a round bottled wine!

Flashbacks are the epitome of evil

This past Friday I met a friend after work for a glass of wine.  2 bottles of wine, multiple vodka mixers, 5 cab rides, conversations with strangers or in front of strangers later, I made it home.  I like to spread out the nights that I go out and have learned that when I do that it only gets me in more trouble than if I made my appearance at local watering holes a bit more often.  Running into old flames and telling them their treatment of me on our non-existant relationship would not only be unneccessary, it would be unapologetic.  I mean, how do you follow up conversations that are all too blurry to put together with a person who's phone number nor email address is a part of your address book that you are sorry for having even spoken to them that night.  How do you form the words of an apology when you aren't even sure in the first place, if it deserves one.  

I gave one cab driver my number so that he could call me and I would have his number and then we would call him when we were ready to leave so he could be our driver again. 
Unfortunately my cab driver with an accent clearly misunderstood when he proceeded to call me 4 times throughout the night and leave a message that he wanted to dance with me later.  I believe something was lost in translation, wait, I would like to think that.  I have no idea, I could very well have told this man I was the queen of salsa dancing and that we should totally go dancing later, at that point so much was possible.

About 3 years ago I stopped drinking hard liquor because it made me depressed.  Now on random occasions I will indulge in some vodka or bourbon, but for the most part I stick to Wine and the occasional beer.  Now I have learned the hard liquor no longer makes me depressed, it makes me easy, not in the drop your pants type of easy.  I mean in the drop your business card and your phone number type of easy.  I have had more unknown numbers calling me in the last 3 days than I know what to do with.  So back on the no more hard liquor train I go.

This past Friday you could consider me a disaster, but apparently funny as well.  I gave one guy my phone number whom I spent a good amount of time chatting with and rumor has it we have a date tomorrow.  Unfortunately, I wouldn't be able to pick him up out of a line up so let's just wait and see exactly how thick the beer, no, vodka goggles were on Friday night. I remember thinking he was very good looking, I also remember thinking I was very good looking and only drinking water. Unless they are now charging $8 for water, I seem to have lost part of that part of the night as well. We shall see if I hear from him again, my money's on their being a better chance I don't have vodka for 2 months. What exactly did I say to this guy for him to have wanted to call me in the first place? Hopefully it wasn't my blog address...

Off to flashback purgatory I go...any idea how to get your brain to keep those moments repressed?  I could use that right about now, just like I could have used a filter on Friday.

I'm only human...with lots of hormones

So I haven't written in a while because I've felt a bit uninspired. Who would've thunk that giving up the crutch eharmony was in my life would make me question if my life actually was funny??  I have been looking for funny things to happen, though they have, I haven't been quite sure how to reiterate them in the blog.  Really, I've just hit bloggers' block.  Until earlier last week... basically it awakened this uninspired soul.

See I have been a bit overwhelmed at work lately and by overwhelmed I mean overworked and by overworked I mean on most nights, overserved.  So I had a meeting with my boss. He called me in to discuss the upcoming fiscal year. Unfortunately, I asked the wrong questions.

I received, as a response, "This is really starting to piss me off".  Let me tell you what...I am 1st and foremost a woman, secondly a human and lastly behind sister, daughter, friend, dog walker, dancer and drunk...an executive.  As a woman, a human, a sister, daughter, friend, dog walker and drunk, I wanted to burst into tears.  As an executive, I dug my nails into my hands and fought back the floodgates.  I realized that up until this point, I was exhausted.  I did everything I possibly could to change the direction of the conversation, to move past this awkward cracking voice I had and noticeably large red splotches on my neck and cheeks so that I could divert his attention from this awkward moment.  But he wouldn't let the conversation stray and when he barked out "What's wrong? Are you going to cry?" Well basically, he did it to himself.  I started sobbing like a 6 year old who wanted a pony, I couldn't utter a sentence because of the hyperventilating that was keeping the tears company.  It was all in all, not my finest moment.

So after some soul searching, margaritas, laughter with friends, and some yoga I have come to a new realization: I am only human, I have an abnormal amount of hormones when I'm exhausted, overworked, underpaid, overwhelmed and on most nights, overserved, and I can be highly emotional.  Take that world...I have feelings, I will cry, I will not ask for help when I could use it, I will complain about things I commit myself too only to agonize over the guilt of not doing it instead, I will laugh at inappropriate moments, I will depend on my friends to get me drunk and listen to me rant, I will explain myself to anyone but the person who upset me and I will eventually get over it. 

I am a woman, I have hormones, I reached the point of no return in an inappropriate setting, but I do believe the inspiration has arrived again...stay tuned. I'm keeping my eye out for more humor...

"It's not too late"

This was the statement I got from a woman I was sitting next to getting my nails done on Saturday when she asked if I had any kids.  I said, "Nope, I have a dog" and smiled and she said "Well, it's not too late".  SERIOUSLY?  Did I ask her with my eyes, do you think I still have a chance?  Did I somehow give off a sign to her that my biological clock was slowly dying? No, I was simply enjoying my pedicure and neck massage and then all of a sudden I was a spinster on her way to a life of cats and crocheting.

Let's keep in mind this woman was the mother of 6 ranging in ages from 13 to 5 and she herself was rounding the corner to 50. She was right, if I was on her schedule of creating my own soccer team, it was Not too late.  But when she offered for me, a perfect stranger, to watch her kids in case I "needed a reassurance of birth control" I thought why is she telling me it's not too late?  She's trying to pawn her offspring to someone that all she knows has perfectly pedicured feet!

I seem to hear some version of this phrase a lot when I am asked if I am married or I have kids.  "Oh, it's not too late" or "well, I bet you have a great career" or "I have a feeling he is around the corner" and my favorite "this is your year to find someone!".  Now these are actually encouraging words to hear when you are down and out and needing a little good relationship mojo, but when you get these phrases from your waxer, your nail salon chair neighbor or  worst, your mother's friends, then it just falls short of hope.  Who decided it was the right of the betrothed to bring the relationship void elephant into the room and drop it on its proverbial head?  I do like to have some pick me ups and my nearest and dearest know just the right things to say at the right time, but the strangers, the ones my relationship only goes as far as the randomness of running into them, it is those people who amaze me at their brazen judgments.

I don't mind being single, because I love living my life so much.  I know I'm not the only one who gets this type of reaction, just last night I saw my single life on the big screen in Eat, Pray, Love (my single life, as in the comments about needing to give reasons about why I am still single - not the writer traveling all over the world life...I'm not that delusional!).  However, I do have some advise for those of you who are single and at all questioning your calling or even those of you in relationships. I suggest not seeing Eat, Pray, Love because inevitably you will do as I have done and spent the better part of your night researching ways to start over and still live comfortably. Seriously, I want to give up all that is stable and good and normal because I'm ready to take the plunge!  Unfortunately, I have to have a realistic savings plan first, not all of us get a book deal to travel the world!  Son of a bitch!  So, my plan now is to get yoga certified and travel the world teaching, finding my spiritual zen leader on my journey and then find myself making out with Jarvier Bardem on a beach.  Yes, Jarvier will be there and it will be A-MAZING! I am now saying to myself "It's not too late" to take this journey into self discovery (well, once I have the funds to support it)!

So to you, chatty woman with the large brood, thank you for reassuring me it is not too late to continue enjoying my life just as it is and hell, even making plans to take a chance on a journey as well - eventually!  And to you my friends who are contemplating your next step in life, I say just keeping going forward and don't be nervous about what may or may not come to you, because the fun part is in the journey itself! Namaste!

Addendum

Okay, for those of you who think I literally die a little inside when my friends get into relationships...it was meant to be a joke.  I love that my friends find someone to share their lives with...

Just friends?

So lately I have had the conundrum of realizing my single friends are really starting to disappear.  In fact when each single friend meets someone who they could potentially get into a relationship with, yes I do say how excited I am for them, but let's be honest here, a little part of me dies inside.  I mean, how can they continue to leave me in this boxing ring alone while they are on their way to getting an actual ring?

Recently I met a fellow who's company I thoroughly enjoyed.  He was unattached, well, he wasn't in a serious relationship and I had my eye on a certain hunky tennis coach at the time.  It was refreshing to have a platonic few nights in Colorado with a fellow who I was certain would be my next new best friend.  You know what happens when you leave vacation?  REALITY!  Seriously, like a slap with a ice cold piece of meat on the face, it is a harsh reality.  Life isn't all tandem bikes and drinks during the day and laughter all night.  Reality is this 8 - 6 job, in bed by 10, drinks only one night a week and daily exercise to burn off the vacation weight gain.  Reality is coming home and having luggage in your room that you have to unpack, it is there to remind you that you have have to do your own laundry.  Reality is walking the dog, feeding the dog, eating lean cuisines, not ordering room service.  Reality is also finding out the new best friend you made while on vacation is actually not your best friend.

How do you ask out a friend? How do you say to someone you laughed wholeheartedly with at the most asinine comments for 3 days that you want to grab a drink with them in a platonic way? Think about it...get on facebook, find someone of the opposite sex that you recently met and enjoyed being their friend and send them this message "Hey, you want to grab a drink sometime?" Wait...that implies date.  "Hey, Friend, good pal, feel like getting wasted?" Wait...that implies needing someone to comfort me in a drunken stupor. "Hey there, haven't seen you in a while, feel like catching up, not that we have anything to catch up on, really, but you know exchanging pleasantries and possibly tossing one back" Wait, that sounds like you are really hurting for a friend and no idea how to have one.  How about "Hey, i know you are seeing someone, so don't take this the wrong way" I'm just going to stop, we can all see where that will lead. 

So how do single girls and single guys make friends with one another in our 30s without the other person thinking they are hitting on them?  I mean, let's be frank, I do realize that men and women can't exactly be the best of friends and there will always be some sort of tension between them, but can there be an attempt?  I have no idea how to move forward on being friends with a straight single man.  The gays, I've got no problem and I love that, I do not discount my gay men friends, they are my heart.  But here I sit agonizing over how to have a guy friend that is single, when we all know if he was interested in me as a friend I would have heard from him by now, so shouldn't I cut my losses?  I'm no fool, I don't look at the obvious, the obvious is a son of a bitch.  I don't cut my losses, I over-analyze and I blog about it.

So here's to reality, here's to the luggage, the lean cuisines, the dog and the 8 - 6.  If it weren't reality, I would have no place to take my mind to on vacation, physically and mentally.  Mental vacation is the best, I've made friends, gotten married, had an affair with Bradley Cooper, moved to an island, had a driver and most importantly, I've known the right thing to say to everyone without sounding like a total bumbling idiot!

Opinionssssss.......

I ask for opinions, I seek opinions even without asking for opinions, I want people to know my story and give me their opinion, but there is a catch.  I only want your opinion if it is in my favor.  If I tell you a story regarding my latest tryste or rendezvous with a certain hunky tennis coach, I want you to be jealous.  If I tell you the story about our second date and then his sudden call back to where he lives, I need you to reassure me his excuse is legit, in fact, I want you to research it and prove it to me.  However, if your opinion on said situation is of utter disappointment, if it is the truth that speaks "he's just not that into you" "maybe you shouldn't have been so available" "you probably should have said something like this..." then I don't want to hear it, in fact, I didn't ask for it, if you look back on our conversation, I only made statements, no question mark was used. I simply told you a story and that was it.  Tricky.

You see, this is how I handle all my stories.  If I'm trying to make you laugh I expect you to choke a little on your wine from laughter.  If I'm telling you a story about a bad day at work, I expect you to be on my side and empathize with me.  If I tell you the hundredth story about a guy not being interested in me, I fully expect a "he's totally into you, he's just a player, a jerk and obsessed with his career".  

Okay, there is another catch.  I do want to hear the truth, because the faster I hear it, the quicker I can accept it, but the truth must be told with delicacy.  If you choose to think the dress I am wearing is better suited for a 19 year old or perhaps even someone 25 lbs lighter, I don't want to hear "you are too old for that dress" or "well how's weight watchers going?".  I want to hear "you look so young in that dress, it almost doesn't reflect the respectable woman you are" or "I think that dress is made funny, it doesn't look right, in fact, it looked off on the hanger".  As a recent example I purchased a beautiful dress for a wedding because the weight watchers effect didn't work for the original intended attire.  After looking at pictures and finding that my size D's were busting out the top and my yet to be highly defined triceps flapping during my wedding dance, I was somewhat embarrassed. I mean it wasn't terrible, but it wasn't amazing either.  When I pointed it out to a friend after the fact I said to her "dear God, i really shouldn't have worn that dress, i looked ridiculous" and she responded with "no, i thought the dress was beautiful".  Beautifully put, beautiful dress, woman inside the dress another sweaty story! :)

Friends, strangers, near and far, these are my thoughts, but I'm fairly certain there are quite a few women out there who feel the exact same way.  The long of the short of it is, my therapist tells me to stop telling everyone my stories but what she doesn't understand is that I am making an army of supporters by telling them.  Without an army of support better known as my friends, new or old, how in the hell could a girl get through a "something came up" scenario or worse a saddle-bagged ass squeezed through a silk sleeveless dress in the junior section?

I want opinions, I just want the right ones and I'm lucky enough to have an army who gets it! Soldier on friends, you are doing something right, I'm happy still!

Newsflash...We aren't 21

I have had several incidents lately where I have pushed my 31 year old status, I've tried to deny it, hide from it, drink or dance it away.  Unfortunately, each morning I wake up and my body says to me "Newsflash, Idiot, You are not 21". 

Two weeks ago I went out with some girlfriends to celebrate July birthdays.  It was a fantastic showing of some beautiful 31 year old gals, and clearly 31 year old pallets and livers.  At 21 I would have been under the table after having just my first cosmo.  But as 1AM rolled around and our 31 year old bodies said it was well past time for us to be in our ill-fitted pajamas and mouth guards, we headed home.  Mind you, I didn't leave without a little flirting and pretending I was still young and cute and yet sophisticated and smart at the same time.  This is not easy to do when the intended you are flirting with watches his freshly poured and purchased glass of wine go flying off the table after one of your "hilarious" stories that entailed flailing of the arms.  21 or 31 I don't care what age you are, that ain't right.

Last weekend I headed out to Vail for a dear friend's wedding.  I decided to make this my vacation.  I was going to go white water rafting, on a category 5 trip, not ever having stepped foot in a rafting boat.  Yikes!  I was grossed out by the idea of borrowing used booties for my shoes, so my 31 year old self reached into my deep pockets and threw down the $10 to buy them.  However, I didn't reach down far enough to buy myself a new wetsuit...who needs one?  Well...if you saw the rash on my stomach, you could answer that question now too.  Spending 3 hours winding down the Arkansas river at sometimes ridiculous speeds and all the while, trying not to go to the bathroom on myself, because that would be rude to whomever wore the wetsuit after me.  Only at 31 do I think of others, at 21...F* 'Em All!  Apparently a 21 year old wore it before me.

I woke up the day after the trip realizing I had body parts I was unaware of that could hurt.  At 21, these didn't exist...being sore wasn't an issue.  At 31, it is nearly debilitating.  So knowing what helps a good sore body at 31 is working it out the day after, instead of drinking it away, I decided to hike around town with friends.  Then I got my 31 year old saddle-bagged ass on a tandem bike

for one hour with one of my best friends.  Because of almost killing two women and a small child while riding tandem, I spent the entire bike ride laughing.  It wasn't until the next day when I realized beneath my 31 year old looking stomach, there are muscles...now I just need to spend sometime really locating them for the future, to get that 21 year old body back.

The day after the bike ride and walking, I was done with activity. I'm a 31 year old woman for God's sake...I need a break.  Why not stop in a cute little restaurant with some friends called Sapphire and order 3 Bellini's before 3:00, no wait, make that 2:00.  Genius!  It was time to get ready for the wedding at that point.  So I put on my newly purchased $38 shoes, and was immediately made aware of why exactly they were only $38.  We were treated to a beautiful wedding in Vail that night, the bride, the groom, the wedding party, the families and the guests all looked great and were definitely surrounded with the feeling of love.  Moving on to the reception...

31 years old + $38 shoes = Disaster on the feet.  We weren't 1 hour into the dancing when my shoes were off and my white trash roots were on...barefoot at this elegant affair.  Thank God the bride is so laid back...clearly this would not have worked at other weddings.  3 solid hours of dancing, air guitar, non-coordinating lip-syncing and clapping, the night ended with laughter, love and joy.

Sunday came along and I was once again awakened by my body with "Newsflash, Moron...You are REALLY not 21!".  My body blows.  I hobbled my way through the streets of the Vail Village, nearly vomited on the shuttle to Denver, limped through the Denver airport and finally stumbled my way home to Houston.  Other than the 9 hours a day I have spent at the office since I have been back, I'm fairly certain I have been asleep the rest of the time.  So, with that said.  I may no longer have the stamina and agility and body of a 21 year old.  However, I'll accept my memories, my bank account that affords me these shenanigans, my 31 year old friends that give me the pain from laughter, and my 31 year old life.  I wouldn't trade this for perkier boobs, creekless knees or even a flatter stomach (okay, I wouldn't trade it, but I wouldn't turn down the offer to boost either!).  I am thankful for my lines, my rolls (well okay, I'm not crazy about them, but I know why I have them) and my hilarious life I have been blessed with.

May you all fall out of a raft, get a rash, go tandem, rule the road and lose your filter...clearly I lost mine long ago and I'm so thankful for that!

30 Years Down

So I have officially crossed the threshold into my "early 30s" by turning 31 on Tuesday.  I feel not one bit different from Monday when I was 30.  However, I did take some time to reflect over the past year on the last day of 30 and I did figure some interesting things out about myself that I would like to share with you.

On Sunday as I was recovering from a 4:30 AM stroll through my front door from a night out and by stroll I mean stumble, and I thought about what I needed to do that day. I needed to eat for one and then I proceeded to lay on my couch for the majority of the entire Sunday.  I made three trips out of the house, 2 for food and well actually the other was for food as well, but it was for the dog.  I spent the last Sunday of my 30th year watching reruns of 90210 and Gilmore Girls.  I empathized when Kelly and Dylan were convincing Steve to cover for them when they did nothing wrong and I teared up a little when Christopher proposed to Lorelai in Paris.  Seriously...I spent my Sunday in the dark watching terrible television...BUT I LOVED IT!!  See there are these days we sometimes need watching mindless television, eating foods meant originally for a 9 year old but still so tasty at 30 and by turning off the phone. Yes, that's right, turning off the blackberry can actually be liberating.  Of course, only turning it off for a few hours, turning it back on to check it and then immediately turning it back off again.

This is what I consider my secret single fun!  This is what the couples don't get, this time alone to do what they did when they were single and glad nobody is around to watch.  Wear a face mask, make a PB&J and eat ice cream out of the tub (no need to waste a bowl).  So to those of you who have your own secret single meals or secret single habits, more power to you for finding the time and the nook to still have them.  Whether you are 16 or 31 or 61, we all need to recognize the moments that may be neurotic to others are without a doubt, what gives us humility and humanity.  I'll be damned if you aren't going to take some time this Sunday to do what you love to do alone, be it, eat popcorn standing up or practice doing the fist pump while watching reruns of the Jersey Shore!  Live up to your single behavior, wear it proudly!   

I have spent the better part of the last 3 years getting to a place that I am content and happy with my life and 3 years in the making, I still consider myself a work in progress, but it is a happy work for sure.  I turned 31 and am thrilled about what lies ahead of me this year.  I started it without eharmony, a bitter sweet ending.  Perfect timing for it to end just as I turn 31, but not until it switched my age over to 31 on the site, one last surviving dig eharm, not cool.  I had a good run, but looking forward to a break from the online dating scene and discovering what other parts of my life are humorous, and I'm quite certain the hilarious people I surround myself with and who plan to celebrate with me tomorrow night will be able to fill this blog with great stories!

Update on My Final Eharmony Date

At 11:30 on the day we are supposed to get drinks (yesterday), I get a confirmation text of where and when.  I promptly replied (within an hour) "See you then". 

1 hour and 15 minutes before we are supposed to meet for drink I received the following text message:  "I have to cancel. I'm very sorry. Something came up. I'll text you next week."

Never even met the guy and he already shaded out...I believe this is my sign.

Hey, Eharmony...good job! :) 

Subscription cancelled...

It's not me, it's you

Dear eharmony.com,

I have decided the time has come for us to part ways.  You have done me well by providing me with endless stories of matches with men who are so unbelievably wrong for me that I have often wondered if your fool proof system is indeed, run by a fool.  You have introduced me to men who are loners, stoners, bible pushers, democrats, republicans, non-religious, non-spiritual, kid loving, kid having, employed, unemployed, chili's lovers, gamers, motorcycle riders, cheap, money hungry, short, tall, fat, balding, overly hairy, funny, dull, intriguing, rude, genuine and in the end, the most common trait amongst them all is they are without a doubt, wrong for me.

So after some quality time thinking about whether or not I should continue this investment in a sinking stock, I've decided to cut my losses, at least for the time being.  See, eharm, it's not me, it's you.  I have found that I love every part of my life, be it alone, with friends, with my dog, with family, with strangers or even on an awkward first (and inevitably last) date.  I'm happy, I'm single, I'm good at my job, I own my own house, I own my own car, I have a healthy sized black lab who adores me, I have a family who supports me, I have friends that laugh with me, I, eharmony.com, am happy. 

I have decided I do not need to you to reinforce time and again that I don't want to be with a loner, a gamer, a nerd, a thirty thousand dollar millionaire, nor even a millionaire.  I don't need to be reminded that "it just wasn't going to work" from these same men.  There is no worth trying with more and more people who aren't right for me.  I have decided that in all this effort, in this time I have spent agonizing over what outfit I should wear on a first date while trying to remember if I wore it on a bad date previously, because yes, I'm convinced clothes have an aura, it just wasn't worth it.  See with clothes, as with men, if it was bad once, well, it will be bad again.  For example, my car got hit one night when I was wearing a new shirt, but I wasn't in the car. The next time I wore the shirt I was driving a friend's car and I got arrested.  Do you think I wasted my time in throwing said shirt away?  No.  Shoes, however, are a different story.  There is no karma with shoes, you know how you feel in shoes, you risk your own fate if you know they hurt and your feet swell up like sausages every time you wear them, that's your own fault, no need to toss them.

I digress, eharmony, it is time we say our goodbyes.  I'm not going without one last try, tomorrow night will be my last eharmony drink date with a fellow who's name is only initials.  I can't wait to see what this has to offer me.  As I sat there alone on my couch last Saturday night watching P.S. I Love You and crying at the mere thought of that movie, I became frighteningly aware of my surroundings; the place where I am in my life is purely my choice. I plan to move forward in my life making choices of who I am matched up with, who I choose to share this life with. So what if I was alone on a Saturday watching the most depressing movie since Old Yellar (which by the way I haven't even seen because of the stories I have heard), I was happy.  This is my life.  Bring on 31 years of age, bring on some stupid mistakes, bring on the travel and bring on the laughter, because this is my life and I choose to live it how I want.

So for that, eharmony.com, It's not me, it is you that has messed up this relationship.  So I say we take some time apart, think about where things went wrong and then maybe, just maybe, we will give it a shot, another day.  But for now, PS.: I don't love you.

-H

PS: Any readers out there, I will continue to update on the shenanigans known as my life...just may not include any inter-web matches! :)

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

So last week I went on an eharm first date.  Genuinely nice guy, well I mean, his psycho side did not come out on the first date.  He seemed a little shy and intimidated.  He was a young 29, but a bit of an old soul.  He lived not too far from Houston, but most certainly what could be considered a suburb's suburb.  He made the trip all the way into town just for little ol' me.  I had a nice time, nothing really worth writing home about, but he seemed kind and like he had potential to be fun, he was just hiding it at that point.  I mean a guy who tells me one of the 5 most random facts about him is that he likes to put popcorn in his mouth and then have a sip of wine and feel it dissolve clearly has "Wild-Man" Tattooed somewhere on his body, right?  When the date ended at 10:45 he said that he would like to call me again to go out another time.  I agreed that would be a fine idea.  

After one full week and no word from him, just seeing that he continuously would look at my profile on eharmony day after day (I'm assuming he doesn't realize his name shows up each day that he checks it out) I assumed, without heartbreak, that I wouldn't be hearing from him again.  He'd sized up the situation between us: he likes living in a suburb's suburb, I love living the in the city; I have no intention of staying home from work as a mom and clearly his traditional upbringing of mom at home and dinner on the table at 6 (my dinners would consist of everyone can heat up whichever type of lean cuisine they desire whenever they desire) that this would not be a perfect match. SO, instead of letting this no-chance of a future relationship die a peaceful death, he decides that at 11:30 on a Saturday night he would send me an email that read: "Hey, I did make it home okay. (did I mention I sent him an email the day after saying, thanks for driving all the way out, hope you made it home okay. If i wasn't such a veteran at these first dates straight to the crap pile, I may have worried that something had happened to him, but I knew better). [he continued] I just wanted to let you know that I will not be interested in a second date.  It was nice getting to know you some. -Ben".  Umm, so many things wrong with this. A. Okay, yes, it is nice he didn't leave me in the lurch, but I wasn't actually left there crying, I did go on another date with another guy 3 days after he and I went out.  2.  Not interested in a second date is so "there it is".  I am wondering why it took him so long to construct this 3 sentence email. and Finally. Nice to get to know you some??  First off that is a grammatically incorrect sentence that can be read 2 different ways. The first being, I didn't learn much about you, but the little I did was nice. ORRRR, it was nice to get to know some of you, but I'm not really a fan of all of you.  Take it as you will.  Yes, that is an entrance into the female psyche.

So my question on the brain this week is whether I should stay on this inevitably downhill coaster called eharmony.com and keep regaling you all with stories of these fellas, or should I cut my losses and take a break from the scene altogether?  I mean, it has been fun, but I feel as though this investment is starting to be a bit like renting a house, it is just a sinking money trap.  What do you think I should do?  Thoughts??

Finally, should I get my mother to set a website up like this mom did for her son?  My mother was telling me all about it this morning after watching it on the Today show...if she wasn't so computer un-savvy, I might be worried!

Update

I have turned off match settings this weekend on eharm because of the commercial I heard yesterday on television "Chat for Free on eHarmony this weekend and meet your match". I'm not going to let the Valentine's Day massacre happen again on this day of Independence.  No thank you!

But because it has been so long since I have regaled any of you with my latest matches, let me tell you I have reached the pinnacle of no return.  I have surpassed being matched up with over ONE-THOUSAND MEN!  Yes, during this on and off 3 year relationship, we have really set an all time high, or low, wait.  So out of these over one thousand match ups: 150 of them have kids; 300 of them ride motorcycles; 400 of them are into video games; 5 openly live at home with their parents; about 550 have some form of goatee; 17 of them live no where near the city of Houston much less the state of Texas; I'm fairly certain about 25 of them are looking for a female friend to set them up with one of their gay friends; 1 says out of the 5 things he cannot live without one is Chili's; there is only one, Frank; and I'm fairly certain that out of the less than 1100 matches but more than 1000: 975 are looking for a one night stand.  Soooo, 150 first dates, 5 second dates, and 3 third dates later, I'm still on the prowl and a stones throw from being considered a cougar!

Happy 4th of July my fellow Americans, cougars, cougar cubs and cougar meat, and happy weekend to all!

27

It has been a while since I last posted, but a lot has happened!  Let's see, I went back to Italy, and can wholeheartedly admit that I 100% chose my job over my personal life while I was there.  Now do I regret this choice? Not really, do I wish I had made some alterations with this choice, absolutely!  My dear Italian Stallion from a few months back and I did reconnect, unfortunately it was only via text message and a few phone conversations.  Plus the 25 times he called when I didn't answer in a matter of 3 days.  How messed up am I in the relationship / dating department? I was annoyed this precious man kept calling. ANNOYED????  I'm not sure our paths will ever cross again, but his sweet message he left on my voice mail ending in "Big Kiss mmmhua" will be saved for many, many a long time.

Now why did I title this blog 27?  Well for some uncanny reason eharm, we are on a nickname basis at this point, has been matching me up with a bunch of 27 year old guys.  Now I'm just spitting distance from *gasp* 31, so 27 isn't that far away. Of course I am still doing at 30 what I was doing at 27, filling out eharm questionnaires...GASP!  But this number I realized is significant.  Most recently I have had the honor to accept the invitation to be in my 15th and 16th wedding as a bridesmaid.  Have you seen the movie 27 dresses? It actually looks a bit closer to reality.  I am honored the ladies consider me close enough to stand next to them on what will be the most important day of their lives.  They seem to trust that I will not make an ass of myself while standing there wishing them well and repeating with the congregation "We will" when the person who officiates asks if we will support them.  They are confident I will not object when the officiant asks if anyone who objects will speak now or forever hold their peace.  They are sure I will smile at them when they announce their "I Do"'s and clap when they are presented as Mr. and Mrs. Last name.

They have all attended weddings with me as a guest or a bridesmaid, there is no difference and no change in my behavior.  At the rehearsal dinner I will come up with a clever, methodically funny, and a little bit touching speech which will include the time we met, our laughter at one-anothers' expense, for some reason a failing relationship they watched me go through and of course when their beloved became a part of our inner circle. But what they also know, without an iota of a chance for change, that I will, without a doubt, be the first person to break a sweat on the dance floor. I don't mean a bead on my forehead, I mean, napkins shoved down my cleavage, rubber band stolen from the bartender's tip-wad for my beautifully blond coiffed hair turned blackened wet mess on top of my head.  I wait for my invitation from the band (if there is a band) to get on stage and regale for all the wedding guests my best version of the Hammer in my 4 inch heels.  I will continue to stay up there and eat up the lime light until bride or groom would like to take it from me.  There is no difference from wedding to wedding when it comes to my behavior.  But rest assured, I am the guest who does not break the alcohol bill on the wedding night because I cannot perform these moves drunk, I actually act this way with stone cold soberness. 

I am honored to play bridesmaid and to stand next to my friends, my dear friends and their partners. I promise to stand next to them in their life together as friend and confidant. I pledge my loyalty, I will say "I do" when asked to honor them and walk with them.  And I swear, by the blond highlights in my hair, I will out perform myself from the last wedding we attended together and I will with your blessing, do both the hammer and the typewriter to confirm my good time and your laughter on your wedding day!  To brides past, current and future, thank you for believing in our friendship, but more importantly, thank you for accepting my moves!

Sickly weekend

This past weekend I got sick with the same illness, both Friday and Saturday night.  The diagnosis: Diarrhea of the Mouth. Yes, it is confirmed, there is really no other explanation.  Thankfully this illness usually only shows up post hard liquor consumption and pre-next day apology calls.  To those of you who did not receive a call, my apologies, I cannot recall all of my actions and ALL of my words or do I choose not to?

Friday night I went on a date.  What a fun date!  He picked me up and half way to the first destination he tells me that we were going bowling.  Well my corked-wedge-sandal shoes were not an appropriate choice for bowling and I started to panic.  Thankfully the bowling ally sold new socks and my kind and obviously flustered date bought me a $2 pair.  Now, I'm no athlete. Do you call bowlers athletes? I have no hand-eye coordination.  In short, I suck at bowling, but I can have a good time doing it, I only get competitive at a war of stories, not 8lbs balls thrown at pins at an average speed of 11 mph.  After bowling we went to dinner.  I was STARVING!  I've been doing weight watchers for 3 weeks now and the weekends are really starting to get in the way of losing weight, but I tried to eat little on Friday to eat much on Friday night.  I had to ask if it was okay to get guacamole, when my stomach was screaming for queso and all he wanted was grilled kabobs.  Oh lordy!  Well, we were having a nice time, having known each other for a little while as acquaintances, I felt somewhat at ease.  Then he broke out most personal questions to me, about my personal life, my dating history and what I am looking for in a partner.  All questions that are too deep for me on date number one, however, I can't do anything but answer truthfully.  Enter diarrhea of the mouth.  Eventually he said, and I quote "Yea, this isn't a date anymore".  What wonderful words to hear on a first date, errr, I mean, 1st intention of a date, but my illness turned it into an awkward interview.  Super duper.

Saturday I planned to make the day healthy and productive.  How did I do that you ask?  A friend came over and we drank beer and then went to have Mexican food so I could get my queso and then out on the town.  Now, my illness crept in when we were enjoying queso as I began to unleash the stories of my past romantic encounters and left little to the sanctity of a relationship.  Then we had moved on to the last bar of the evening and I managed to alienate a friend and accuse her of not be excited enough to see me, seriously, at this point it isn't even diarrhea of the mouth, it is diarrhea of my whole life.  Then I saw someone a bit more than an acquaintance but a lot less than a friend and talked his ear off about the energy industry (I may be in it, but I'm most certainly not of any status to talk intelligently about it, with or without tequila).  After, or before, I don't have a time-line, I turned some guy's hat to face front because I thought it looked stupid turned to the side, again, no friend of mine, just a stranger in the bar.  I knew it was my time to leave, I had insulted enough people and not eaten enough french fries.

Now I know I talk about wine and drinking a lot in my blog, but day drinking is not something I desire to do and trust me, I put myself into detox after engaging in it.  I typically choose not to drink into oblivion because my alter tornado ego blows through and destroys everything in it's path.  Two lessons for me. 1: There is a reason I cut hard alcohol out of my life 3 years ago...get back on that train.  2. SHUT UP in THE FACE OF STRANGERS, FRIENDS, and FOR GOD'S SAKE, DO NOT ANSWER ANY LIFE QUESTIONS!

Flashbacks

Today I had a flashback to college and a come to Jesus at just how stupid I was then too.  Thankfully I didn't have to have that come to Jesus during those 4.75 years at the University of Texas, because I was lucky...too lucky!

I was reminded of a time I met a guy in a bar...dun.dun.dunnnn.  And we hit it off. I remember he and I going on hikes or maybe one, I remember showing him around Austin, as he was new to the area from Mississippi.  I remember going to have some form of chili at his apartment, first time I had ever seen an efficiency and a bed that dubbed as a couch/table/dresser/closet.  And yet, this boy who I knew nothing about nor really any part of his story, I let him right on into my life.  Eventually I believe I got a little too happy via the phone one day and shortly thereafter I got stood up for the first time (eh-hem, not the last).  Now when I look back on that time and think of the pure stupidity of me showing this stranger, albeit very good looking, hippyish stranger around Austin, via the car or on foot in the woods, I think "man someone really should have slapped me".  Hey friends...YOUR FAULT! :)   If I remember correctly, I was illegally hanging out in said bar and he was most certainly there with his very own REAL ID.  I was too young and literally...too stupid!  REALLY??  I sometimes get a flashback of this fellow who's name I cannot forget and it just astonishes me.  

One time, and I swear this is true, about 2 years after never hearing from him again, I was living in a new place and had a new phone number by 2 or 3 times since knowing him and my phone rings one afternoon.  This guy asks for me by name tells me his name is Blake and I respond with "I don't know a Blake"...memory laps of ever knowing a Blake possibly due to the introduction of white wine into my repertoire.  Then he says to me "we met in the bar the other night, you gave me your number". I remember thinking to myself, "oh god, I gave my number out and I don't remember?"  My response was "What bar?" Seriously?  Did I really think I forgot I gave my number out to some stranger?  Well after some goings back and forth regarding this fellow Blake and asking for me by name, by complete coincidence, he met a girl who said her name was Hadley and gave him my phone number and by happenstance, it was the same boy who I had hiked in the woods with, ate chili with out of a pot and who stood me up on a date never to be heard from again.  I am quite certain it was one of my nearest and dearest friends who liked to give my number out to strangers, but what were the chances it would have been someone I already knew and had a romantic encounter with?  Ummmm...pretty good since A. it happened and 2. I didn't actually NOT date a lot in college.  :)  I quickly dismissed him and now we really have not talked again.  The Irony!

I am going to start adding to these flashback sessions of the blog just so you can see how I have changed and grown as a person...or you can judge the similarities between my college self and my 30self...soon to be 31..Yowsas!

Happy Friday Friends!

I'm doing my housekeeper's job

So about a year ago I decided I wanted to invest in a little help at home. I'm not the tidiest of people and I thought a $50 every other week investment in getting someone to help me out would be a good idea. Now, every other Tuesday I do come home to a clean house, it smells nice and looks completely wiped down.  However, there have been quite a few Tuesdays when I have come home to something unexpected as well.  I thought I would share with you a few of the things that I have stumbled upon since making this investment:

One day I discovered a breaker had gone out in my downstairs bathroom / laundry room after she was at my house.  I made this discovery on Thursday when I was looking for something to wear that I swear had to have been washed.  It was. It had been sitting in my washer since Tuesday.  Wash reload and switch of the breaker later, the mildew smell was almost out.  Why didn't I find this until Thursday? You might be asking.  Well, I hadn't been inclined to turn on the lights in the laundry room or bathroom until then.  And my housekeeper didn't think it was necessary to let me know.

One day I was getting upset at how much weight I was gaining. I hadn't actually weighed myself, but clearly, my clothes were fitting tighter and tighter.  I had to ask her not to come one week and so I was changing my sheets and washed them on the Tuesday she was supposed to come, not having done this in a while, since she is the one who does it, I hadn't noticed that my fitted sheet no longer "fitted" anymore.  I went downstairs at that point, while wearing my once long t-shirt what was now a mid-drift baring beauty and sweatpants that were giving my booty a nice squeeze and because they were now so short and revealing my ankle socks were completely worn to shreds, I found that my washer was on warm/warm and my dryer was on high heat.  Lord almighty, weight gain was not the issue, my housekeeper was making me squeeze into my clothes and my bed squeeze into the sheets because she prefers warmer climates in my laundry room.  I have started taping notes on the washer and dryer that read (cold/cold only and low tumble dry only) and sometimes she removes them because they get in her way when she turns the dial to warm/warm and high heat. So I have to repeat process about once a month. I guess I will continue to fight for my wardrobe for as long as I have this help.

One day I came home thinking there was no issue when she was there, until I got a phone call later that evening from her daughter.  She called with this message "Hadley, my mom is really sorry for breaking the knob off your washing machine."  WHAT?  Yes, so my 1997 washing machine that runs quite nicely, has to be turned on with needle nose pliers because she plum ripped off the knob which turns it on.  I now have to do my laundry before she arrives to ensure it gets done, not shrunk and not broken!  I actually am paying to learn to be responsible for my own clothing.  There's a lesson.

The final thing I find every time I come home is what of mine she has eaten.  Now keep in mind, I'm single and don't cook often.  So I rarely have food of serious edible quality during the week, but typically I can find something which she has found.  Usually it is my last apple or, and this I love, it is some canned food I have, I don't know if it is cooked, but I do know it is spiced up to perfection because I always find my spices in different places from basil and oregano to garlic salt and lemon pepper.  I feel bad sometimes I don't keep her fed well, but clearly the woman thinks I shouldn't eat much either since she keeps trying to shrink my clothes!

She came to my house early today which I wasn't expecting and I'm not allowed to be home when she works, but it is my favorite to stumble in on her a little early and find her barefoot and singing at the top of her lungs whatever random radio station she has found on my guest room radio.  Sometimes she leaves it on and I get to do a little dancing myself when I get home.  So I think it is good I have help to wipe things down and get things in order, but I'm not sure if I can keep risking my self esteem on shrunken clothes and tiny bedsheets. I am about to offer them up to my sister for crib sheets...they were once for a queen.

So I'm near to going home to see what is of my house, I will be thankful I can afford the $100 a month for some help and be hopeful that it won't cost me a new appliance in the mean time!  To the wonderful laughing woman who keeps me tidy and consistently self conscious, thank you for giving me surprises, wanted or not!

MemorYal Weekend

This weekend is called Memorial Weekend to honor the troops that live and die to serve our country and protect our freedoms. Let's have a moment of silence.

Now, I call it MemorYal Weekend.  Why? You may ask.  Because, I will tell you, this weekend brings up a thrash of memories for me from just a few years back.  It was just 2 years ago, in the May of 2008 when I was taking my first plunge with ol' faithful, Eharmony.com.  Yes, two years this official love affair began, it was three years ago I started answering the questions to get on this site. If anyone ever asks, Yes, I am a procrastinator and I am proud of that fact.  

Now back to two years ago.  I was single, SHOCKING, and instead of spending this party, alcohol filled, random hook-up induced weekend at some crazy beach town, I spent it with my parents and their dogs and mine at their home.  Minus the random hook-ups, this weekend did not disappoint, it was a party and it was most certainly alcohol filled!  I spent the majority of that weekend checking my tMobile Dash so I could eharm-email with this fellow I was interested in.  His name was John.  I remember telling my mother, "Mom, there is something different about this guy. I just have a feeling about him." Eh-hem.  There was something different about him. First and foremost we ended up haveing the most serious relationship I had been in since the days text messages were obsolete.  We had a good run.  Three months later I remember saying, again to my mother, "Mom, I just have a feeling about this." "This" I was referencing was the impending doom of our relationship.  The lesson I learned from this breakup was to always trust my gut.  The lesson I learned from this relationship, is to refrain from emailing someone over a holiday weekend while at home with your parents on the side of their pool with a bourbon in hand at 3 in the afternoon while the guy is in his house not doing anything talking to no one sitting on his couch and drinking a beer at 3 in the afternoon....alone.

Here I am 2 years later and this time the folks are coming to me.  I own my house and they are going to stay with me. I am still on eharmony and I'm sure I will send an email or two.  I do not regret the things I have done nor the things I intend to do. I do however, take heart that this MemorYal weekend will still be filled with my loving family, good laughter and of course...bourbon!

I intend to no longer be on eharmony.com in 2012. Am I saying I will have found my match by then? Not necessarily, but I am saying, sometimes you just have to cut your losses and since that will be 5 years in the making - I just can't see myself in love with this relationship anymore.  I'm sure there will be some sort of dating app for the ipad and I will probably have my sister's hand-me-down by that point, so I will have graduated from the likes of eharmony and move onto whatever next generation of only the lonely.com there will be for me!

Have a wonderful MemorYal Weekend, filled with memories, laughter, some appreciation for our troops, a little bourbon along with a good toast and perhaps some non-essential text messages and emails with someone who makes you smile!

Short, but informative

If you are looking for some answers on what you should know about dating, here's a very interesting and humorous take by a fellow thirty-something singleton: http://lifestyle.msn.com/relationships/article.aspx?cp-documentid=23779082&GT1=32023

And, I just have to pay homage to a dear friend from my high school days who announced his recent wedding and marriage on Facebook.com this week with the following appropriate status update:

"Death of a playa. Birth of a husband."

That is exactly how I found out he had a girlfriend, got engaged and married all in one after thought status update and I found it to be both poetic and hilarious at the same time!

Not writing my eulogy anytime soon, this female playa continues on...

Playon Playas...

Enter Frank

So I got a little discombobulated with eHarmony.com and my last dating experience.  I admit, I felt a little, I don't think jilted is the word, but maybe stung just a bit.  The guy from Georgia and I did not make it and my friends said "that's okay, on to the next one".  Well when you have gone on 150 first dates, 5 second dates and 2 third dates in the last 3 years "on to the next one" seems like throwing a Frisbee thinking it is a boomerang.  It just doesn't work that way.

I admit, I love my life, I love that I can go on so many bad dates and share them all with you.  I was with a friend earlier today who said he wanted to set me up with someone and how he appealed him to me was with, and I quote, "don't worry, he's drinks A LOT".  REALLY?  That's his best quality for me?  Well, I'm not going to lie, it is necessary I'm sure. :)

The "matches" on eharmony as of late have been what I consider slim pickin's of the nearly 75 from the past 2 weeks.  And the few I have been intrigued by, well they closed me before I got a chance to prove I'm more fun in person.  Whatever. But the site has removed the chance to choose a reason why you are closing someone now...I didn't realize how much I depended on that little extra step.  I'd rather see "Other" checked than just nothing. I'm left without closure now with so, so many.  Plus to the "love doctors of eHarmony.com" I live in Houston, Houston proper that is, that is not Sugar Land, Richardson, The Woodlands, Spring, Conroe, Pearland or League City.  I won't make that kind of effort to meet someone who lives 30 minutes to an hour away, I am trying to reduce my carbon footprint!  So stop sending my way. Thank you, avid supporter since 2008.

So to leave you with my latest match.  To Frank, thank you for the laugh.  I don't actually think you meant to make me laugh, but you brought me back to the reality that this is actually my life now, finding this information out before actually meeting!

Meet Frank. 

frank typically spends his leisure time:

playing the baritone/euphonium, spending time with family, reading, watching tv, watching movies, birding, sight seeing, watching Indycar racing or A&M play, fine arts, gardening, walking, a little bit of writing, metal detecting, cruises, nature, SciFi/Fantasy

Happy Friday!  

PS:  If you are in the mood for some birding this weekend, I could know a guy.