Monday, January 21, 2008

Oy. Can Episcopalians Say That?

Okay. You know how they say when one door closes, a window opens? Well, what if you aren't sure you want it to open? I decided to take a little break from Bachelor #2. So, I hear from someone today, an ex. And I guess, I'm going to have to give him the name of Bachelor #3, even though he was before Bachelor #1. Way too confusing. Anyway, I have dated lots and lots of guys my last few years of being single, and cared about 3. And they are all still in my life, in one way or another. Bachelor #3 broke. my. heart. I have to write it like that, because that's the way it felt. He was the first 'boyfriend' after my divorce. Why couldn't this have happened 4 years ago? But, somehow, somewa-ay, we have managed to stay friends, and he is my biggest fan. Hands down. He has now finally said, not beating around the bush, that he made a huge mistake letting me go, and would not do it again. I am floored. Now could be the perfect time to try again, but it took me so long to get over him. And, now, I'm actually afraid I would break HIS heart, because I really do want to be with Bachelor #2. Damn. So, what am I doing? Figuratively, barricading the open window. Literally, high-tailing my happy ass to Las Vegas and running away. 3 or 4 days of debauchery ought to clear my head.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

I Hate to Toot My Own Horn, But 'Toot, Toot'

I hate to brag, but I'm having a really good hair day. That's 2 in a row...and for what? I refuse to kill my hair high with the cold, hard facts that I'm still alone, great hair or not.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

The Butcher's Ball Will Never Be the Same

Sam the Butcher from 'The Brady Bunch' died. Sadness. But maybe Alice will finally find someone who will commit. Sam can now join Mike, Tiger, and Peter's dignity. RIP.

Can You Dig(ger) It?

Did you see Digger Phelps' getup on ESPN College Gameday today? Holy crap, who's his stylist? Michael Irvin? Figures the playmaker would find a way to stay relevant at the Worldwide Leader. I think Digger thinks he's way cooler than he really is since he starred in 'Love Letters' somewhere way Off Broadway. Like Queeens.

I Tawt I Taw...

Is it just me, or when you see John Clayton on the screen do you expect to see Sylvester lurking in the background?

Friday, January 18, 2008

Not Feeling So Foxy

I'm usually pretty philosophical about this being single (probably forever) thing, but lately the universe has been giving me some pretty dire signs.

1. The only situation semi-close to a relationship I'm in right now is, evidently, on indefinite hold while Bachelor #2 (more on the moniker later) decides where his life needs to head right now. A very valid reason, most definitely, but I can't help feeling that if I were to be included in his life when it is figured out, I'd be included now.

2. I am not a cat person. I have a dog. I don't have rodents. Yet lately, I have had cats hanging out at my house every day. We are up to 3 different cats making themselves at home. We don't talk to them, feed them, or in any way make them feel welcome. Yet, they are there. EVERY DAY. Do they smell over 40 and single? Terrifying.

3. At the barber shop yesterday (no, I wasn't getting my hair done 'high and tight'- I took my boys), I was chatting with a gal I graduated high school with. Long, long ago. She is in the Junior Auxillary (you have to say that with your teeth clenched, by the way) and selling tickets to the annual Charity Ball which is coming up soon. We talked kids, working out, recipes, you name it. She kept telling me how great I looked, like a model. Nice gal, good conversation. She tried to sell everyone in the place tickets...but me. I'm sure she didn't want to hurt my feelings about being single. And, obviously, assumed there is no one in sight. Depressing.

4. No one asks 'Are you dating anyone?' anymore. Or even, 'You're not dating anyone, are you?' It's more of a statement-' You're not dating anyone, are you.'

5. The last optimistic thing I was told was, after the announcement of a major automobile manufacturer planning a facility in the area, 'Maybe someone will move here you can date!'. Great. So, I'll have a date in 2011. No rush to shave my legs, I guess.

Oh, well. I guess, barring the 'settling' thing, this is the way it is right now. Maybe I'll feel a little better after hitting Vegas next least I'm not on the pole.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Don't Go Into the Light, Jerry!

I'm totally fascinated with the latest celebrity couple dining companions...Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes (or Tom and Kate Cruise, as he would prefer) and Jerry and Jessica Seinfeld. That Tom is totally out for world Scientology domination. Can you imagine the conversation over dinner?

Jerry: So, what's up with this evil warlord Xenu? He didn't want those people on his planet, so he drops them off here? What did he tell them...hey, everybody, get in the spaceship! We're going on a spa weekend! No, no. That's not a volcano. Don't worry. Seriously, it's a sauna...

Tom: Don't be glib, Jerry.

Jerry: Glib. Now there's a great word. You don't hear many people use it, unless they are totally self-important and/or think they are British. I can hear Madonna and Gwyneth Paltrow telling the servants, 'Don't be glib, old chap.'

Tom: (Silently tries using his OT IV powers to launch an ashtray upside Jerry's head)

Jessica: How's your dinner, Katie?

Katie (coming out of her stupor): This steak is amazing! (slips back into aforementioned stupor, daydreaming of one day once again being allowed to go to the bathroom alone. She will soooo be out of the window.)

Jerry: Thetans. What a great concept. You do something wrong, you blame it on them. Sorry, judge, I didn't really steal that car. My thetan made me do it. Can Jewish people have one?

Tom: (Silently texting the Scientology headquarters. 'Mission Impossible')

And, the next day, Jessica takes credit for Jerry's jokes.

Speaking of Katie Holmes, she is looking (using her favorite word) amazingly chic these days. She looks great, for a 45 year old. Too bad she's only 29. She's totally channeling Gloria Vanderbilt, with the hair and big sunglasses. Wait, now I get it. Someone is trying to get Anderson Coopers attention...

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Where's Spellcheck When You Need It?

I see the University of Tennessee hired an offensive coordinator named Clawson. Head Coach Phil Fulmer does realize it isn’t ‘Clausen’, doesn’t he? Someone might need to give him the 411.

What Gives?

From time to time, I will be publishing thoughts on my life. As a single mom trying to figure out what is in store for me relationship-wise, I've found putting my experiences on paper helps me work through them. So, go ahead, enjoy, judge, whatever makes you happy.

I try not to get discouraged over my life, especially when I have so much more than so many people. I am healthy, I have two absolutely beautiful children who are happy, healthy, well-adjusted and love me very much. I have a job I like, which pays pretty well and affords me so much flexibility and enables me to travel. I have very little debt. I have a few very good friends who I know love me for who I am, not what I can do for them. Which isn’t much, except be a friend the best way I know how- listen a lot, help when I can, and make them laugh as often as possible.

I can’t regret the choices I’ve made; some have been good, some have been not so good. (Yes, a major understatement.) But, overall, I think I have made the right choices for my children. And myself, to a point. I feel good, and I think I look pretty good for my advancing age. I can take care of myself and my kids, I own my own home, I get along with my ex-husband, and, most of all, my kids are well-behaved, secure, independent, and know they are loved. My family relationships aren’t perfect, but there is a peace in knowing you can only control so much, and I feel that peace.

But, especially as my kids get older, I have to wonder if I am purposely making choices that preclude a relationship. I know I have additional complications; my oldest son is a full-on teenager, and my youngest son has Down Syndrome. I know that isn’t an easy thing for anyone to digest. And, I live in a very small town. But, I also know that, because of my complications, I work twice as hard as most people on my relationships. Dealing with another person’s kids, disability or not, is never an easy task. Quite honestly, not one I’ve ever relished taking on for myself. What a hypocrite, huh?

I can be annoyingly independent at times, I know that. (I would say ‘fiercely independent’, but Tyra(nt) Banks has completely ruined the word ‘fierce’ for me. Now, it just means average-looking girls trying to out-Zoolander each other.) In turn, I think it makes me attracted to the confirmed-but-don’t-know-it-yet bachelor type. You know that guy- they say they want to be married, but they really like being single. And I, of course, seem to get along with them like a house on fire. So, what gives? Even though I'm not afraid of commitment, I know I’m a little (okay, a lot) afraid of marriage. I have one failed marriage under my belt, and don’t savor the thought of another one. But, on the other hand, you won’t find a more faithful, loving, generous girlfriend than me. I have references, trust. I just don’t necessarily want someone up in my kool-aid 24/7. So while I think I’m just looking for a kindred spririt, is it really self-sabatoge? Am I subconciously trying to stay single? Will I ever meet that kindred spirit that I’m looking for that does want a commitment?

I tend to look at the outward things in my life as reasons why I’m still single. Is it where I live? Definitely most of the problem. The dating pool is a desert. Is it what I do for a living? Probably part of the problem. I work around men all the time, but refuse to date in the industry for fear of looking like a slut. Is it my children? Maybe. Is it fair that, even though I have a lot going for me, through no fault of my own my number came up in the DNA lottery? No. Would I change my son at all? Absolutely not. He is my angel- he keeps us going.

So, again, the answer is…it must be me. Something inside, outside, I don’t know. But I guess if I really want things to change, I better find out. Why do I continue making these choices? They aren’t bad guys, just guys completely unable to commit. So, why am I attracted to them? Why are they attracted to me? I guess that’s the million dollar question. And, I might just give that amount to find the answer.

New Year, New Crowds at the Gym

New Year’s Resolutions continue at the gym. I applaud the effort, really. I'm all about health and fitness, I'm the one at the gym 5 days a week. I would just like to mention a couple of suggestions for attire to the newly inspired: Men, easy with the knit shorts. And if you must wear them, please wear the proper underpinnings or you will create a deeply unfortunate situation for the other gym-goers. And if you tuck your shirt in? Really, really unfortunate. Just stop, please. Synthetic fabrics are your friend. Ladies, congrats on your renewed dedication. But, first, get thee to a mall and buy yourself a jog bra. Stat. Not only will your girls thank you, but so will your significant other down the line. I may not be boobalicious, but thanks to Hanes, Jockey, Champion, et al, I do at least still pass the pencil test.

And, really, if you are seriously trying to lose weight, why are you driving around the gym parking lot looking for the CLOSEST SPACE TO THE FRONT DOOR? Is this the gym, or Wal-Mart? Wouldn't a couple of hundred extra feet actually help the cause? I'm just tring to help. Really.

Wherefore Art Thou, Tony Romo?

I have to chime in on this Tony Romo/Jessica Simpson thing. I’m not saying that Jessica Simpson is the cause of Tony Romo’s problems, but while Tony was enjoying Cabo with Jess, I keep picturing Eli getting shot down by Jersey girls in some mall in Paramus, then heading home to watch game film. Alone. I’m just saying. But, actually, I really don’t totally blame Jessica. I remember during the playoffs last year, the guy I was going out with was on business in Europe and asked me to email him with playoff updates. After the fumbled snap by Romo, I simply emailed, ‘I’m not sure a choke of this magnitude will translate’.

I'm Baaack. Of Course No One Knew I Was Gone

To encapsulate: Got deathly ill, recovered. Got heart mildly broken, recovered, started seeing person again. Went to Vegas, had a great Christmas, another great weekend at the Liberty Bowl with aforementioned person, went skiing, now home and in no-man's land with said person. But, I'm back. And it's sleeting outside. Gross.