Somewhere Between "New Year, New Me', and "Same Shit Different Day"

It's the end of what has felt like the longest year in living history,

Literally.

People, how long has this year been??

It actually feels like 2018 has been 365 YEARS long.

A whole shit ton of stuff happened this year, and it felt like it took forever to happen.

I had friends get married, have babies, have affairs, get divorced, separate, get back together, inherit money, lose their job, and basically every major life event that you could possibly imagine.

All of that happened to a variety of people in my life.

None of that happened to me though, because I was too busy in 2018 to have a life.

TOO BUSY.  TO HAVE A LIFE.

When people tell me I should get more sleep, it makes me very stabby!!

How is that even a thing?

I barely noticed as the days and weeks and months slipped by, that I wasn't doing very many of the things I normally do at certain times of the year.  I wasn't doing very much of ANYTHING that I normally do.  I was running all over the place, doing tons and tons of STUFF, but not getting any of my stuff done.

I don't exactly understand why I never say no to people, or why I feel the need to be the first person to bat if I see life throw a fastball at a friend.  I have had multiple friends and family members tell me why THEY think I do this, and their answers are always plausible, but they don't exactly ring true with me enough where I can say, "A-HA! You nailed it.  Soooo, if I simply do X instead of Y, I will be able to completely change a lifetime habit??  Thanks, bro".

All I know is, that in spite of posting on 12/30/17, that 2018 was going to be the year I focused on myself and my girls, it actually wasn't at all.

This is getting a little old!

I think I saw Erica, like, 5 times.  (Not minimizing the epic awesomeness of our brunch at Salty's, kiddo, it was the greatest)  I know I palmed Lexi off on friends and family too many times to count, just so I could do stuff that was not MY stuff. 

Not that I have any regrets - besides getting fat(ter).  I kind of did that on purpose (more on that later).

I had sooooo much fun with my friends this year, and I really don't regret any of the times I dropped everything and stepped in to help somewhere.  I love my friends, I am soooo lucky for all of the amazing people in my life, and I love that I was able to spend so much time with everyone I spent time with.  I even think I made "Taco Tuesday" once or twice, which is a major win for me.


However, it has become abundantly clear to me that, unless I calm the fuck down and just insist on creating a life and a schedule that works for me, my quality of life is going to continue to leave me frazzled, overwrought, and slightly cranky.  Actually, there is nothing slight about my crankiness at this point.  I have lately come to notice that my usual happy, freewheeling-within-boundaries, chill personality has been taken over by this guy:

Sooooo, am I going to become a new person just because of some dates on a calendar?  Probably not.  However, I see no reason not to dive into the tide of optimism, hope, and energy that accompanies this particular time of the year.  There are some things I really want to change, and it seems the most advantageous to embark on those changes at a time when the zeitgeist of this time of year is at its peak.  I have discussed the things I want to do with people I know will (lovingly) hold me accountable, and I am going to jump in with both feet and see if I can address some things that need addressing.

Onto the elephant in the room.  

I am still single.

I am pretty sure I mentioned a few times over the course of this year that it was time for me to saddle up and find a cowboy to ride...with!  I meant with!

Didn't happen.

I kind of thought it was going to for about 5 minutes, but that was a naw.
THEN, something very...strange happened in the spring (not telling)-- I say 'happened', as if I was not a very active orchestrator, chuh! --  that made me realize there was no real reason for me to get involved with anyone, and one very big reason why I shouldn't.

Having decided that, without actually declaring it to the many interested parties (seriously, I get nagged at least once a week for still being single.  Just the other night, my little sister raised her eyebrows at me and said, "You really need to settle down."  I just was, like, "Nah, I'm good."  Didn't go over well), I must have figured the best way to deal with what happened in the spring, and the surest way to make sure I absolutely will not submit myself to the agony of a billion first dates, I got fat.

I wasn't aware of the psychology of why I stopped preparing meals at home and started eating at restaurants and turning Door Dash into my daily meal service (seriously, the amount of money I gave to them this year is obscene -- it literally disgusts me.), but in hindsight, I can see where I literally put a barrier (of fat, yes, but a barrier all the same) between me and the opposite sex, which gives me a perfect excuse to stay single for, like, ever.

Anyway, I am fine with being single; seriously.  I am not so fine with being fat, though, so sorting that out is priority at this point.

As far as the poor, unwitting schmuck I trick into kickin' it with me until 2059...I am sure he is out there somewhere, probably drunk, or maybe just spending New Year's Eve feeding his goats and chickens out in Amboy, waiting for me to show up in his yard. (inside joke)  Do I think 2019 is the year I will finally get my sister off my case about my spinsterhood?  I don't really know, and it's not really that important to me...at this point, I just want to acually enjoy my life.

Right now, that is good enough for me.

Don't worry Neo, your real mom is coming soon!!

I hope all of you have a very wonderful evening celebrating the close of the year, just do it safely, please, so you are all still here when the sun rises on a new, hopefully better, year.

At midnight, when all of my friends are wrapped in each other's arms, locking lips, I will be wrapping my lips around a bottle of Jameson, so I have that going for me....

xoxoxox



PS - Go watch Aquaman, please, so that Hollywood will sign JM in allllllll the shirtless movies in 2019!

Slacking Off, Catching Up, and Trying Not to Grow Up or Grow Old!

I totally suck at this 500 words a day (WAD) thing.

I LOOOOVE our group, and I am constantly inspired and impressed by all of the amazing soulful writing these totally rad humans produce.





Then I get on and start blathering about dildos and Jason Momoa and I feel like a vapid moron, so I cast about for something to write on the next post -- something deep and profound -- but, as it turns out, I am neither deep nor profound (also don't think I am a vapid moron, but that could just be wishful thinking).





So I find other things to do that make it so I am too 'busy' to post, and I, cringingly, jump on our group's page and read all the awesome things that make me want to write, all the while waiting for our brave and fearless leader (KH) to catch me commenting and being, like, "MARY, YOU CAN'T PLAY WITH US, YOU AREN'T DOING THE WORK).









Anyway, I have decided I am going to jump back into WAD with, like, 1000 words today and 1000 words tomorrow and then stay caught up at my day-behind status.  And that isn't an oxymoron or even fake news, there -- being a day behind (instead of 3) will make me caught up...to myself. Because neuroses, guys!!





Lately, I have been obsessively thinking about personalities.  My friends all have super diverse personalities, and lately I have been gravitating away from certain personality types and toward others.  Like, certain traits that I found amusing or stimulating or hilarious are now annoying and embarrassing, and vulgar.  And traits that I thought were dull or maybe a little intimidating are now intriguing and fun.





I wonder if it's a sign that I am finally mature?  Like, at 42.5 years, did I suddenly grow up? 

If so, well, it's about fucking time!





Honestly, I don't think I have ever felt like an adult in my life outside of work.  Which is very bizarre, because 8-10 hours of the day I am calm, competent, organized, efficient, and commanding.  As soon as I shrug off my (heinous) uniform, I immediately feel like the awkward teenager that annoys everyone at the family Christmas Dinner.  I get home and am, like, WHHYYYYY do I have to cook?  I'm tired, my feet hurt (probs shouldn't be wearing heels over 3 inches to work, but whatever), and my daughter is the pickiest eater alive, and there are 3 different sushi places, one ramen grill, and a Round Table Pizza within 5 minutes of here, sooooooo. 

Also, laundry.  I don't want to do my laundry....like ever.  Actually, scratch that.  Have no prob doing the laundry, but can someone please come over and fold it and put it away for me???  (Ask your moms, please, I will even pay!) Pleeeaaaassseee???  (also, if you could unload my dishwasher that would be great as well.  Very much enjoy scrubbing dishes clean and loading them up and pushing buttons to make the washer go, but have some kind of mental block about unloading them, so your assistance would be appreciated!)

Also, any time I type a word that has "ass" in it (see above sentence), I always snigger to myself 'har, har, just wrote ass!'

........just realized that it should come as no surprise to me, anyone that knows me, or anyone that reads this just WHY I am a total spinster!..... *sigh*





So.....yeah....guessing maturity is not the culprit for my persnickety ways, and maybe - just possibly - it could be something else....like MENOPAUSE (mental-pause!)?? 

Haha, I feel like I should apologize for this....vaginal dryness.  Kill me now!  :-D

FML





That honestly is not one of the life passages I am looking forward to. 





Retirement?  Sign me UP! 

Completely grey (well, silver actually!) hair?  Yessssss!!  No more dyeing, and I can put fun colors in it without bleaching it to the consistency of sagebrush!

Flowy pants with elastic waistbands and shoes that have 'comfort soles' in the description?  HOORAY!!





Hot flashes, irritability, memory loss, fatigue and diminished sex drive???? Step the fuck off, pal, cos I am NOT EVEN INTERESTED!!









Hopefully it is neither maturity nor menopause and maybe just a sign that I am looking for more out of my relationships than superficial fun.  Maybe I am at the point where I am starting to value substance over style, and I will end up with richer, deeper, more meaningful friendships.





ORRRRRRR, perhaps my reclusive ways have caused me to become boring so I am drawn to boring people.

I'm actually okay with that too, surprisingly.  Or not surprisingly to those of you that find me incredibly dull. There is something to be said for not always being loud and out there and switched on.

Except that I kind of want a boyfriend(more on that tomorrow).....and I am not attractive enough to be boring. My personality is usually what tricks people into thinking I am a 7 and not the 4 I actually am, so if I decided to become as boring as I often feel like being, I am pretty sure I will be single forever, which I am totally ok with.....except when I am not. Like today. And last week, last month, and pretty much all of this year. Since I don't actually know anyone that is compatible BF material, and I definitely would like to be coupled up by the summer (more on that tomorrow), I have to meet some unsuspecting dude and do my Jedi Mind Tricks on him so he overlooks the myriad flaws in my face, body, and personality, and get him to decide I am, like, The One or some shit like that.

All of that probably sounds incredibly needy and probably a touch mercenary, but I swear it's not like that. Seriously. DUDE.





I mean, I guess it could be. I could be in a massive state – like Texas-sized – of denial, how would I even know that if I was? Does anyone in denial ever really know?

But I don't think I am.





Tell you tomorrow.

Here's your apology.  You're welcome.

 

The Struggle Is Real

I am supposed to talk about something I struggle with.


Hmmmmm.......where to start?


I fucking struggle with everything every single day of my life.


I struggle with my weight -- I am too short to be this fat.


I struggle with my hair -- I REALLY want to buy 2 $500 wigs and shave my head and rotate these fabulous wigs so I don't have to deal with the barbed-wire-silky-soft-curly-frizzy-wiry-greying-I-do-what-I-want pile of protein filaments jutting from my scalp that bring me grief on a daily basis.


I struggle with my parenting style.  Am I really creating a human that can go function in the world?  Or am I fostering the next megalomaniac being that brings humanity to its knees?  (With Roo, one can never be sure).




My biggest struggle though, is intimacy.


I know how to have sex, trust me, if I was on Yelp, I would have 5 stars..HAHA!!


I don't know how to let my guard down.


I DO, and I HAVE, but it doesn't come easy.


It is a STRUGGLE.


I had to put a layer of shellac around my heart and my feelings at a very young age.


I had to learn that sex was a thing entirely separate from love at a very young age.


I had to put on a cloak of self-preservation so I could protect the children I loved at a very young age.


As I grew older and (hopefully) wiser, I met a few memorable people that enabled me to put all of that aside and bare my heart and offer it up to share with someone else.


Those instances were always successful (except with TC  :(  ) .


I have had some AMAZING relationships with some FABULOUS dudes.  They were nourishing and safe and loving and fun. 


However, times changed, the world moved on, and those relationships came to very loving, caring ends (except for TW -- the last 'boyfriend' - I am soooo embarrassed to type that, guys, I am 42 fucking years old!!  -I had, which has caused me to be single for, like, EVER!), and I continued on my path.


I have blogged MULTIPLE TIMES in the last couple of years about how/why/when I would get a new partner, but LITERALLY have not done one single thing to snare one.


Because I am afraid.


I am afraid I will meet some dude that will mess with my Roo and I will have to kill them, thus landing me in prison for the rest of my life  (Legit fear, I will FUCKING MUTILATE any person that wrecks my baby's innocence).


I am afraid I will hook up with some guy that ignores me or belittles me or tries to control me, and I will put up with it because I HATE failure.


I am afraid I will meet someone that rocks my world and changes my thinking and then falls in love with someone younger (obvs), smarter (HAH!! As IF!), or more interesting (possible, but I doubt it) than I, and I end up an old, fat, wrinkly mess that taught my daughter that being useful to men is more important than being a free, powerful female.

I am afraid to be soft.


Life has made me hard.  I mean that in the most literal sense.  I have to be hard, because I have raised females and the world treats girls like shit (Harvey Weinstein, Louis CK, Charlie Sheen, Christian Longo, Scott Peterson, Ted Bundy, etc., etc.), just turn on the news.


Do you know how many times someone has grabbed, squeezed, patted or fondled my enormous ass without first asking permission?


Do you know how many times my boobs have been brushed, bumped, pinched, or patted without the person even knowing me?


Do you know how many times I have been slinging bottles behind a three-deep-packed bar with a line of cocktail waitresses lined up waiting for HUGE drink orders and some fuck says, "Why don't you smile?" while my fellow drink-slinger (a surly bald dude) NEVER got asked that same question??


Do you know how many times I have walked down the street next to or behind a teen aged girl and watched men of all ages (some of you fuckers WAY too old enough to know better) catcall, eye-fuck, or otherwise salivate over said juvvies??


I don't trust you guys.


I really don't.


The last time I did trust someone enough to bring him around my girls and introduce him into my life, and TRY to let those walls down....well I couldn't.


Because the old 'you-aren't-good-enoughs' kicked in, and I blew the best thing that every happened to me...and NO, I am not talking about 'blew' as in shark week, you pervs.


I mean I hesitated.


I held back.


I prevaricated.


I held up that wall, and I lost.


The one relationship after that was a joke.  It was a 'this-is-all-you-are-worth-so-why-don't-you-just-settle?' kind of a thing. 


Which I did.


Until I realized Roo might settle for something similar, which filled me with so much horror, I bounced.


I sincerely hope I can stop struggling with intimacy so my daughter doesn't grow up thinking men are shit and being a spinster is the way to go (cause it's not...sometimes it's not fun at all).


It would help. though, if you fuckers would quit groping and jacking off in front of us because you can...


Just saying.

The Trouble With Love, What's Love Got To Do With It, Love Bites...Songs About Why 'Love' Is A Colossal Trick

Day 3.




I WAS going to blog about "A Place You Want To Live".




I already had most of it mapped out in my head, complete with quaint pics of New England in the Fall and Ryan Gosling without a shirt.






However.....




The last couple of days, some women I love very much have been struggling with the men they love.






Today (tonight, whatevs, I had a LOOONG day) I am going to use the prompt "Your Current Relationship Status And How You Feel About It".






I am single AF.


The quintessential spinster.






I have written MANY times about how I need a boyfriend, how I am ready (after a 5 year hiatus) to get back in the dating game, and about various dudes I have identified as a target.






However...






After this week, I am actually pretty stoked about being single, because I literally cannot process how awful people in relationshits can be. 


PS - not a typo ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^






I always (with one glaring exception) have had pretty decent relationships.  I am pretty chill, I don't get mad when you go to a strip club with the guys, I totally respect 'boys night out', I will wake up 30 minutes before you do to pack you a nutritious lunch, I never say no to sex (except during Shark Week...cuz EW! [side note - Shark Week at Mary's is BJ Week (EW! Sorry, TMI), because I don't feel you should suffer because of my idiosyncrasies]), I am a bad-ass cook, and can discuss a variety of topics in an (extremely) intelligent fashion.  I clean up okay, I am a solid 5.5 out of 10 (although my charm and wit will trick you into thinking I am a 7), and I have terrific manners.


I say all of this, not to convince some random sex-god with an Amex Black that a short, stubby chick with a face like the ass-end of a Chevy is a good match (but if it is, holla at your girl!!), but to explain that I honestly feel I am okay enough for someone to want to date.






However....




Tonight I decided I am extremely unqualified to be in a relationship, and I should just accept that I will be living at 101 Spinster Street for the rest of my life.


I literally cannot comprehend how awful people who claim to be 'in love' with someone can be to that person.






Vile name calling.
Abuse.
Indifference.






If that's what it means to be coupled up in this Brave New World, I will take a pass.

I'll take it!!

My last relationshit ended 5 years (give or take a week) ago.  It was not a good relationship, and I left questioning my judgment in putting up with it as long as I did.  The last couple of years, everyone has been ragging on me to bag a dude and couple up.  I have to admit, I drank the Kool Aid. 






I have been thinking about it myself.  How it would be nice to have someone to go to the movies with and make out here and there.  How it would be nice to have sex once (or twice-not picky!) a night.  How nice it would be to have someone to snuggle with on the couch on rainy Sundays, watching movies and griping about the work week ahead.  How nice it would be to be woken up by the Alarm Cock.  How nice it would be not to be the 3rd, 5th, or 7th wheel at family gatherings, parties, and events.






However....




I literally cannot fathom putting up with being ignored, disregarded, disrespected, or flat-out insulted (also, MEN, why do you always revert to calling women 'sluts'??  I am kinda slutty myself and it's brought me nothing but fun, so go fuck yourselves), I wouldn't do it for a second...mortgage, kids, or lifestyle be damned.






Basically, what I am saying, in response to today's (unexpected) blog choice is this:






I don't really know if "ROMANTIC LOVE" is biology (perpetuation of the species), a trick brought on by the media (sells tickets to movies, cards and flowers and jewelry - to say nothing of Viagra and booze), or a real thing that changes who you are and elevates you to your highest self (more often than not, I have seen the opposite just lately), I just know that, right now, I am glad I don't have to deal with it.




And that's all I have to say about that.

In Which I Identify a Victim...Er....Prospective BF

Recently, Lexi asked me to get a boyfriend, so I decided to comply.

Simple as that, right?




I mean, surely it's not difficult to identify someone I actually feel is good enough to introduce to Lexi, and then trick him into liking me, right?

Except.


I have been out of the dating pool so long, I think I forgot how to swim.


Those of you that come here regularly to laugh at my pathetic attempts to handle my life, may remember when I decided to try Internet dating. 


I have heard dozens of stories of successful internet dating, went to the wedding of some very dear friends that initially met online, and have watched one woman ride off into the sunset (Literally.  Or maybe figuratively.  They were technically boating off into the sunset, but it can be referred to riding.  Because they were.  Riding, that is.  Riding a boat.  I don't know if riding off into the sunset requires horses, and 'boating off into the sunset' doesn't have the romantic happy-ever-after vibe I was shooting for.  Although, neither does this little side tangent...so there's that) with her Match.com success story.








I just don't think I can do internet dating, though.  The screen names.  UGH!  I MEAN!  So, that's a nope.  I have one friend that very recently was soooooooper successful at internet dating, probably because she had the chutzpah to put 'well-endowed' as a pre-req......god, I love that woman!  But, one of my other favorite humans went on a date for lunch with a dude off the internet and he wouldn't take his heavy coat off because he showed up to the date butt-nekkid underneath.....for real.


Also, I know 'buck naked' is the proper term, and that 'butt naked' is the mispronunciation, but I prefer my way, in which you pronounce 'naked' as 'nekkid'.  Because that is the only way to describe someone who showed up to a FIRST DATE WITH NOTHING ON UNDER A TRENCH COAT!!!


And, the last 2 people I know that signed up for online dating got nothing but perverts and weirdos.....Like nothing but d!ck pics and introductory lines that refer to making the bed bang.  There's a time and place for that kind of stuff, and it's about 15 years and 2 states behind me.

Which means, of course, I am going to have to date in real life.  Since there is literally LITERALLY, not one friend/relative I trust to set me up on a blind date (seriously, most of you are depraved af and would probably gleefully set me up with a freak from Craigslist....part of why I love you guys so much! xoxo), and I don't date friends of friends (for obvious post-breakup 'who gets custody of our friends' reasons), I am going to have to go hunting for myself. 




Yay, me.




Ugh!!  Dating, tho?  For reals? 
First dates are so awkward....Who are you, How did you, Why did you, blah, blah. 


When I was in my 20s, I solved the 1st date awkwardness by drinking too much, sleeping with him, and then either making him my boyfriend or telling him no way, depending on his.....erm, prowess.

I am neither hot enough, nor slutty enough to do that kind of stuff anymore, which means I am probably going to be going on a lot of first dates.....maybe. 

Where do people even meet anymore?  I'm too old to meet dudes in bars (probably too old to say 'dudes', but oh well!), I don't have hobbies or habits that put me in proximity to single men (do any of you??), and I am either an introverted extrovert, or an extroverted introvert --whichever one means that I am a painfully shy, socially awkward mumbler, until I get to know you, and then I will dance on the tables (fall off as well, I am a klutz), keep you out past your curfew so many times your husband won't let you hang out with me unsupervised, and start a conga-line, a bar-fight, or a fire next time we go out....


UGH!!!!!


Okay, something just occurred to me.  I just realized I have a target.  That sounds awful, doesn't it??


Without revealing too much, because I am now operating under the assumption that we will end up dating, in which case he may decide to read these and it might freak him out, I met someone about 18 months ago- very briefly - that made me kind of sit up and take notice.  He is very, very loosely affiliated with my job so I tabled the idea of flirting (I'm not good at it anyway) with him.  I was also in super duper anti-dating mode, so that contributed as well.


However.  I gotta be honest, I see him anywhere from 1-3 times a month, and am constantly acting like a moron whenever he comes into our building.  My boss was, like, 'Seriouly? Are you 12?' after the second time he came in because I rambled on and on about nothing for way too long, stuttered, turned red, and smashed my knee into the corner of my desk, all while discussing I-don't-know-what, because my inner voice was shrieking in my brain to shut up...."stop talking....stop TALKING, oh-my-God-your-face-is-beet-red-and-you-are-stammering-get-a-fucking-grip-you-are-40-not 14"  So, yes, I may have lost track of myself, shattered my knee-cap, greyed out, and hobbled gracelessly around the corner to hide, but maybe it wasn't that bad....I only have my scornful supervisor's words to go by, and she could have just been jealous of the sparkling repartee we were conducting (probably not the case, to be honest), because she did say that, if she was 25 years younger, that man would be hers. 


Anyway, since I am on a mission, I guess I better have an objective, right?  I'm not going to refer to him by name, again because I don't want to give off creepy stalker vibe (although I fear I might be too late!), so we have to give this guy a nickname.  I prefer initials (trust me, you will want to hear about WP, TW, and TP one day!),  but I think I am calling this one "Rufus" since he is a Ginger (if you don't get it, Google 'rufous'), and plus, I really like saying that word. Rufus. Rufous. Rufus.


That sounds like 'Roofies'.  Hmmmmm.....

Operation Rufus is in effect, yo, stick with me while I try to bag this Ginger!!  ;)

Sayonara Spinster??

Haha, I could EASILY send this pic to 10 people right now!!

Everyone seems to agree that I need a boyfriend.




Except me. 




My sister has been nagging me for a year or two, since I am always the 3rd, 5th, or 7th wheel at family events, barbecues, etc.  I am a bad-ass cook and a super cleaner, though, so I always get invited, spinster or not.




My oldest daughter seemed a little impatient at my sister's gender reveal party last week, when I told her I had failed to secure a man since she last asked me about it in November. 


"You've been single for a long time, haven't you?"  she said, nose wrinkling slightly....as if my solo status was mildly repugnant.




I have been single for a long time.  FOUR AND A HALF YEARS, to be exact.  If I am still un-partnered by September 29 this year, I will have been single for FIVE ENTIRE YEARS.




That is a long time, especially for me.  I have always been a serial dater.  I would date someone for a couple of years, lose interest, say goodbye, and then start dating someone else for a couple of years, until it got boring, etc., etc.

See her smiling?  That's me!!

However, my last "relationship" -- and by relationship, I mean 'trainwreck', was a doozy.  All of my friends and family could not believe I was dating this person, many of them were furious with me, and a few of them expressed some real concern.  He was definitely not the kind of person I would normally date, and I have no explanation or justification for spending 2 years with him, or for exposing my daughter to him for that long. 




When I got out --  and that is exactly what it sounds like; I 'got out' of the relationship the same way one would 'get out' of a burning building or a mangled vehicle, swiftly, fearfully, slightly panicked, with much post-escape checking to make sure I didn't actually sustain any damage as a result -- I convinced him to move to Alaska (he was from there), and I ended up moving back to my hometown for a while. 


And, yes, I wrote correctly. 


 I talked him into moving to Alaska.  I am that gifted, and if you don't believe me, give me a call and I will talk you into believing it. 






Skillz, people, MAD SKU-HILLZ.






Anyway, I now have no confidence in my ability to judge men.  I literally cannot believe I didn't see what everyone else did in You Know Who -- that's what Lexi started calling him because she didn't want to say his name, and he has been relegated to Voldemort status since then -- and I cannot believe it took me throwing my phone into a storm drain and getting a new # to not have to hear from him, because he would not leave me alone.






So, I have settled for Singleton status, rather than step back in the dating fray and risk another monumental error in judgment.

#Truth

Also, since I am being truthful here, there are a couple of people I reeeaaaaallllllllllyyyyy want to have sex with, and if I am in a relationship and then the opportunity to sleep with any of them comes up, I will have to pass, and that makes me feel kinda mad. 
 Does that make me a bad person? 
No? 
Just slutty, tho, right?  *sigh* 
 Used to it.....










ANYway, everyone around me seems to insist that I get coupled up, and I am not sure why basically everyone has an opinion on my old maid lifestyle this year...it's weird because, rather than one or 2 people making casual remarks here and there, 100% of the people I consider myself closest to, and even a couple that I am hardly close to anymore but still know me very well have randomly inserted a question about why I am not dating into otherwise normal conversations. 


I usually refer to YKW, but realize that that excuse is wearing a bit thin after FIVE YEARS (4.5 but who's counting?  Oh, wait. EVERYONE IS COUNTING!!!)




I figured I could get away with another 6 months of demurring, dissembling, and denial, until....




Lexi asked me to get a boyfriend.  And she meant it.




For reals.




Shit just got real.  Like, really, REAL.


My daughter is one of the most interesting people I have ever met, and aside from some VERY publicly humiliating instances when she was in Kindergarten, she has maintained minimal interest in my love life (except that one time she told a co-worker of mine that she had JUST MET, that I had a crush on one of our fellow coworkers; completely un-prompted-- just blurted it out....little shit!).






She always took a great deal of pleasure in speculating on her dad's love life (he went through women like Kleenex the last couple years of his life), and singing the "Daddy - and - (insert name here) - sitting - in - a - tree" song, gleefully, when she got the chance.




But, Mommy?  Not so much. 


Until now.


Which basically means I am doomed --DOOMED, I TELL YOU -- to dip my toe back in the dating pool and hope there aren't any piranhas or sharks up in this bitch.






  Stay tuned........

Keeping Score

So, yeeeaaahhhhhhh...

Last night I blogged about not having a boyfriend, and about how I may be seeking one in the near future.

Except I won't. 
Really, I won't try to get one.
Why?

I changed my mind!!  Every woman's prerogative, yanno!

Mostly, because I have been educated, simply by being a witness, but also by being a victim, of how "relationships" are about keeping score.

I grant you the magical love matches that MANY of my friends (KFM, TKS, NPJ) seem to pull off with no visible bloody skirmishes don't represent the drama I am referring to.  Those happen, but it is always within marriages that are lovely, magical, fairy-lands, where problems are opportunities for growth and deeper understanding.  Not signs of basic incompatibility.

"Relationships", in your 30s and 40s, outside of matrimonial bonds/chokeholds(joke!), seem to be about keeping score.  What did I do?  What did you do?  Did you show me you love me as much as I show you I love you?  Have you proved your love?

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE FOR ME, LATELY, EDDIE??



I am a rabid football fan--NFL, not HS, or college--so I get the beauty of comparison, contrast, and points...

Every Sunday, from August through January, I am the biggest score keeper EVER.

However, that doesn't seem applicable in the 'game' of 'love'.

Or, maybe it just doesn't seem right.

Should we be keeping score?

Or should we be grateful for what is given to us by partners as flawed as we are?


If you love someone, shouldn't you appreciate the times they step WAY outside their comfort zone to accommodate you?

If you love someone, shouldn't you see the progress and not ask for perfection?

If you love someone, shouldn't you be glad they are working on it and not expect them to do a complete 180 in 0-60??


I am, obviously asking these questions rhetorically, as I have only ever loved 2.5 people, and been completely unable to sustain any long-term relationships....

Maybe I am an idiot-victim of-Cosmo-Carrie-Bradshaw-sappy-chick-thought, but I really don't understand the whole "You-do-what-I-want-then-I-will-love-you" school of thought---shouldn't we want more than tit-for-tat in relationships??


Shouldn't we be kinda tit-for-that-awesome-back-massage?

Shouldn't we want the Golden Ticket, the Brass Ring, The Mother Effing Golden Snitch all rolled into one??

And, when we are lucky enough to get it, shouldn't we be just a tiny bit grateful??

Instead of asking someone to be our everything, shouldn't we ask them to be our something special and be glad when they do that??

Again, what the fuck do I know??  I am a tragic fucking spinster, pining over someone who probably doesn't know I still exist.

I will tell you this, though, I still think of him as the ultimate score, and I never once paid attention to who did what better in our relationship.

I never kept score.

I never will keep score.

Because if you are constantly keeping tabs on who is doing "love" better, you have already lost...


Score 0-0.....and that only place that 0-0  means love is on a tennis court...never anywhere else.

Never.



PS -

Couldn't resist!

Kidding!!

So, one of my super favorite humans on this planet is my friend, S, who I have known for 19 years.

Last night, we had a 90 minute catch-up-on-everything conversation.  I don't normally do phone conversations, but this one was a doozy.


I think some of you remember when I decided to try online dating.....


I didn't get past the 'decide', due to being freaked out by all the random and crazy screen names, and the plethora of names that involved '69', 'lil', 'baby', and 'shy'....

S, however, decided to do online dating (see the difference?  Yoda certainly does.....).

She posted some recent, truthful pictures, wrote a hilarious, painfully honest list of musts and must-nots, and let rip.  *Note; 'well-endowed' was one of her prereqs, and she said it worked out pretty nicely for her!*   She got about 400 responses the first weekend.

She went on dozens of dates, hooked up a few (hundred) times, and ended up in a relationship, which is one of the things she said she wasn't all that interested in. 

(Kidding about the number of hookups.  Barely. That was a joke as well.....but she did get some action, lucky bitch!)

This made me think a bit......I am constantly trying to evaluate whether I should have a boyfriend or not....

Pros:  

• Not the only person over 18 that is single when we do family things.
• Regular sex.
• Ummmm...........................

Cons:  

• Have to wax/thread/pluck/shave more often.
• Have to talk on the phone or answer texts, even if I don't want to.
• Have to compromise.  (I seem to remember that being an issue in my last relationship(s) going back forever)
•  Have to leave the house to do things in public more often than I would like.
•  Probably have to meet his friends and family, even if I just want to stay home and watch Alan Rickman movies.
• Regular sex. (kidding!)

I guess I would have to get in shape, too.  I mean, sure my FWB doesn't mind that I am a chunky monkey, but don't boyfriend's prefer flat abs?  I don't remember....

All I remember of my last relationship is how I literally, literally, could not stand one thing about him.  His face, his walk, his voice, his everything.....And every time I looked at him, wishing he would hit his head and get amnesia and never call/text/talk/visit/sleep with me again, I also had to look at myself and ask how I could be so stupid as to get into a relationship with such a moron---what did that make me?

Anyway, S and I decided that, in early May, she is going to choose a screen name for me, write me a stellar dating profile, upload some artfully airbrushed photos (kidding!), and find me a boyfriend.

Will it work?  Not sure?

Do I care if it doesn't?  Not sure.

I will probably get some amazing blog material, maybe get some amazing first dates (ha! as if!), and possibly some amazing..........never mind.

All I care about is that it's not 'LilShyGuyPDX69' barkin' up my tree; I'll be ok with whatever happens.

As long as he is well endowed.

Kidding!!