To Think I Held You Yesterday...

Yes, it's been a long time. Life has just been happening and I've had some projects I've been busy completing so writing just wasn't in the cards for me. Anyway, life is just so strange sometimes.

I actually went out on a date -- if you can call it that. I met a man for coffee out at a Starbuck's after he gave me his number. It was a disaster from the get-go. I barely knew his last name (and that only from his voicemail) and the man comes up to me and swoops in with the hands and the kiss? Of course I back off and hope he gets the message. You think he did? Oh no. Did he ask my my last name? No to that as well. Mr. Handsy was rubbing my shoulders, telling me he wanted to "feel my hair" and other creepy shit. He didn't care who I was. I could have had a bag over my head and been as dumb as a stump and he still would have wanted to feel my tits.

I told him a few times to stop and he would for a while and then try to move in again. I was thisclose to done by that time anyway and was looking for a graceful exit but then he uttered the line that helped me get there faster. It was the line that I hate most to hear from men, which is, "You just haven't met the right man yet."

Ah, let me count the ways why I hate this line so much. I'm a mature woman. Don't treat me like I'm an inexperienced idiot. Don't condescend or patronize me. Don't imply that I'm not capable of the critical thinking required to extract exactly how I feel and why from the totality of my experiences and my reactions to them. Don't dare insinuate that I don't know my own effing mind. That turns me off like a light switch.

Jesus! You can guess it didn't take me long to exit. See ya 'round. Next!

Later on the same week I took a fellow co-worker (not in my department but on the same floor I work) out for dinner to pay him back for the mechanic work he'd volunteered to do on my car. Now this guy -- this guy is just plain hot. He's got a cyclist's body and a gentle manner. He's all man, don't get me wrong, but he's got layers and he's got a genuine respect for women. He works two jobs and he's a single dad and he's got it going on. I've thought he was attractive for over a year now. Anyway, the problem with this was always my intent not to shit where I eat, ya know?

So yeah, about that....

He stopped by my place, we sat down for a drink or two to unwind before dinner. We got back after a great meal and had another nightcap. Well, I had a nightcap. I wasn't ever even drunk at all. He had four or five straight shots. I didn't mind because I knew that he wanted to unwind a bit and that was his only real night off away from being a full time parent and an employee. I figured he was a big boy and knew how to handle his liquor. In retrospect, he was nervous. He was drunk and sweet and definitely moving into my personal space zone, not that I minded in the least. After it got late I told him he wasn't driving home and rolled out the sleepaway bed....not that we used it.

Wait, though. That sounds a lot worse than it actually was. I mean I knew that I wanted him but I also knew that -- if he knew about what I wasn't capable of -- he'd choose to turn and run. I didn't want him to but I didn't want to start implying promises that I couldn't keep. I was nervous and antsy, not sure when I needed to 'come clean' about that. I felt like I was walking an uncomfortable line. Honestly? I wanted him to know before anything began but I realized he was so drunk -- sick drunk, it ended up -- that it wasn't the right time to talk about it. I thought maybe he wouldn't remember the talk even if we had it, besides being so drunk I figured he probably couldn't make any serious inroads anyway! I'm not so sure about that now, but I was then.

So we ended up sleeping together, but (for the most part, with just a few overtures here and there) we did just that.....sleep. He felt nice curled beside me, I admit, but he felt so miserable that we couldn't really enjoy that, even. Ah well.

So fast forward to the next morning. We woke up, we started talking, I told him all about it and tried to be as matter of fact as I could. I figured that was the end of that so I got up to go to work. He was still a little drunk -- that horrid morning-after sorta sworl -- and he kept telling me over and over to come back to bed. I could tell he wanted me to and as for me? I wanted to but I didn't want to, if that makes sense. He did finally convince me of one thing, though. I was getting changed and he said, "You come up to my desk, lean over, and I'm getting an eyeful. I know you do it on purpose, so come on, show me?" with that twinkle in his voice that just made me smile and want to indulge him. Needless to say, he was impressed. He'd better be. 34FF, baby!

Long story short, I told him to sleep it off in my apartment, lock up, and give me the key later. He chose not to and got up. I truly enjoyed watching him dress. We went to work but he ended up going home within 30 minutes.

So.....I've had a few days to be all retrospect-y. I go back and forth between regretting the chance I didn't take, to being happy I didn't take it and waste it on a drunken muddle, to being all angsty that I won't get another chance, to not wanting that other chance for fear I'll be a disappointment.

I found myself today at work looking over at him and wondering what he was thinking. Is he chagrined that he got that drunk? Embarrassed about it enough to avoid me in the future? I chose to give him some space today but was he thankful, or worried that I was regretting the time we'd spent together? Was HE regretting it?

I have all these questions but no answers yet. I'm adult enough to ask the questions eventually, if they don't get answered on their own.

Maybe next time I need to be a bit more aggressive (even drunk he was rather shy and certainly not pushy, something I liked) and make it so impressive that he wont miss the other part. Then again, after a few months and the newness wears off and it's just sex and obligation and blah blah blah, am I really ready to act a part again like I did with the Ex?

I'm getting ahead of myself. Will there even be a next time?

Jesus, I hate these sorts of thoughts. I wouldn't even give a rat's royal ass if I didn't actually LIKE the guy.

GAH.

((Song: "Never There" by Cake. Lyrics here:
http://www.songmeanings.net/songs/view/64/ ))

Act Your Age, Mama, Not Your Shoe Size

This'll be a short little post this time around. It's late and I should be in bed. Instead I've been surfing the net looking at pictures of that gorgeous man, Ian Somerhalder. He plays Damon Salvatore on "The Vampire Diaries." Now if HE was a vampire in real life he could bite me anytime he liked.....

Er, as long as he gave me some notice. Maybe a few weeks or so. Why? So I could go get lipo and a tummy tuck. After all, I need to look GOOD if I'm going to be immortal!

Kiddo told me something amusing last weekend that I'm just now getting around to posting. She and her dad had been planning a pool get-together with their cousin for weeks. A few days before the scheduled get together, Yo finds out her sister is going to meet some guy that Yo's been wanting her to get together with. Yo decides she wants to be there with her sister and wants to stay home instead of go to the pool party thing.

Now if it'd been me I would have scooted the ex and the kiddo off to the pool party and stayed behind to make sure my sis hooked up with some guy if it had been that important to me. But not Yo! She wanted the ex and the kiddo to cancel their plans and stay home with her! Hah! The ex apparently tried to explain to her that this had all been planned for weeks and that it was rude to cancel at the last minute but Yo would hear none of it and -- according to the kiddo -- she stomped out of the house in a fit of temper and went to the park. Sheeeeeesh. I almost feel for the guy.

Almost.

Kiddo said the ex told her that she could go on by herself if she liked but she didn't. I think she really wanted to spend the time with her dad. So he caved. Dumbass. All that does is train her to act like a child if she wants to get her way. Ah well. We all make our beds, don't we?

((Song: "Kiss" by Prince. Lyrics here:
http://www.project80s.com/lyrics/song-lyrics.php?song=kiss-prince-revolution))

Put Me In, Coach, I'm Ready to Play

What a difference a week makes. The ball has definitely been in my court and I've made some choice plays. The one I made the night before last was the most telling.

For background, he and I chatted on Skype a bit last weekend and as a result he's apparently assumed he's got some leeway with me permanently because I decided to allow a bit of it temporarily. Initially I thought that might've been a mistake but you know, the more I think about it, the more I think it was a smart move. It's brought out some behaviors that have been deducting points from his initial score.

So he's popped in game a couple of times over the last week while I've been busy interacting with another player. The first time he did he was chatty for a bit before becoming a little frisky. Okay, so though I took note of it and my reaction to it, I let that one slide. The second time he popped in he said hello, so did I, and then we began to interact in-game. Things were fine at the outset but by the end of the evening things got a little more intense but not beyond reason. Before he logged out he made an out of character comment about being slightly drunk. Ah well. He logged and that was that.

But this third time, night before last? He definitely overplayed his hand. He popped in and didn't say anything but hello before segueing into how I could help him out of what he called his unstimulated state. Wow, I thought, what the fuck, dude? Really? I moved to stage one of my kiss-off maneuvers and told him I was busy and that he'd have to find another avenue to pursue. Think he got the hint with that? Nope. Okaaaay. On to stage two, the 'let's see if there's a reasonable excuse for his poor judgment' stage. I asked him if he'd been drinking. This should have not only clued him into the fact that I hadn't responded favorably but also that he was exhibiting behavior I thought bad enough to originate from alcoholic lack of inhibition. Nope, he didn't catch this hint either! He said he'd only had one. Okay, not enough for that excuse to fly.

Another comment and that was that. I'd had enough. I told him he might want to back off; objectifying me wasn't a turn on and if he wanted to continue to speak to me he'd speak to my brain and not my body parts.

He backpedaled fast. Apologized, three times, profusely, and then left. I haven't seen him since.

A side comment: his disappearing act is fascinating. It means he knows he overplayed his hand. One strong word from a woman and all his macho bravado aside, he scurries off to hide when confronted. He's way softer and more dependent on women than he lets on. Some of his background story makes more sense in light of his actions here. Hmm....

Anyway, the moral to this story is an interesting one. There are times and places for this kind of stuff. It's not that I'm a prude, far from it, especially in this aspect of the seduction game! The mental backing and forthing is fantastic for me. I thoroughly enjoy bantering in this manner and I generally take it as the compliment it is when it's the right time and place. What I mean by that is, generally there's this wavelength you're looking for and you need to be able to read the receptiveness of your partner before you forge ahead. If you don't, you just end up crossing the border between sexy and crude. Major fail.

I'm sure he's licking his wounds and figuring out how to fix it. It'll be interesting to see his approach. Contrite, is my guess. We'll wait for him to take his turn.

((Song: "Centerfield" by John Fogerty. Lyrics here:
http://www.baseball-almanac.com/poetry/po_scf.shtml ))

Our House It Has A Crowd

During the time the ex and I were married he worked at a number of manufacturing plants in their accounting departments. He made friends over the years with a few of the other accountants and line managers and kept in touch with them for some years after leaving the jobs where he'd met them.

One of these friends of his popped into my mind today. I don't even know if the two of them stay in touch any longer and it really doesn't matter anyway since it doesn't pertain to this story. What does pertain is that this friend, who is Mexican-American, was the patriarch of a rather large, extended family. His siblings were always falling on hard times and since he was working and making a decent salary he ended up supporting them financially or allowing them to stay in his home for one reason or another. He even ended up raising a few of their children when those hard times became habitual or routine.

Personally, my open-door policy wouldn't have been so open-ended. I'd have allowed for one such trip through, possibly two if in need. Any more than that and it isn't need so much as indicative of a habi. Those sorts of habits usually end up with one or the other of us holding hard feelings. No thanks.

So far in the year that the ex and Yo (who is also half Mexican-American) have been married, her mother and her mother's boyfriend -- and their small dog -- have lived with them three times. Ex is pretty much supporting them, but to be fair, Yo's mom has been doing all the cooking and cleaning and housework for the family. Her boyfriend works, I believe, but only part-time. He does a lot of odd jobs around the house.

Kiddo seems to have adjusted well to having the two of them in the house and, if truth be told, I know she enjoys not having to do much housework or cooking. But when I spoke to her today I heard a puppy yapping in the background and casually mentioned it. Her response was an aggravated one. "We have more people living here now and they have a puppy."

I didn't ask how many or how they belonged to Yo. I didn't have to; I knew they did and that there were at least two of them. That house has three bedrooms (Ex and Yo's, kiddo's, and Yo's son's) and had six people and three dogs living in it BEFORE the however-many-others and their puppy have come to camp out. What is it with packing people in like fleas? Isn't the ex sick of living on top of other people? Is he planning to end up like his friend?

All I can say is I thank all that's holy that I'm not living there now.

Hm. I wonder if kiddo will want to come live with me?

((Song: "Our House" by Madness. Lyrics here:
http://www.lyricsplanet.com/index.php3?style=lyrics&id=52762 ))

Must Have Used The Wrong Line

Filed in the "just when you think you've seen everything" file....

I have an imaginary point system when it comes to men and I'd wager most women (and men!) do too. Like most people, I have automatic deductions and additions that I apply. Do you smoke? Sorry, no. Are you really listening to me? Score! Look like you haven't bathed in a while? Bzzzzzz, move along. Are you into me without being disrespectful or lewd? Dingdingding! Wear your jeans too tight and under your gut and your hair too 'business in the front and party in the back'? See ya!

Some of my rules are obvious ones and others deeply personal. I don't have a lot of rules, but the ones that I do have are hard and fast. Otherwise, I think I'm pretty fair. I start a man out at the base point of zero, and then I let the chips fall where they may. It usually doesn't take long for the guy to provide me with reasons to add or subtract. Experience has taught me that it's generally a pretty good system.

My good friend Harl's mother passed away this past weekend. I took off work for a few hours this afternoon to attend her memorial service. After the service we all went to the church's dining room to eat lunch and I was seated across from Harl and her husband.

Soon a man with curly, probably dyed surfer-blond hair and who looked to be in his mid-50's sat down in the chair to my left. He took one obvious and appraising look at me and said, "Who are you?"

Before I had the chance to respond to what I hadn't decided was either a direct or a downright rude inquiry, Harl's husband told him that I was Harl's friend from high school. He then introduced the man to me as Harl's uncle, her mother's brother. Ahhhh. I dismissed the rudeness/directness issue immediately, taking into account that the service had been rough on all Harl's family members. I introduced myself by name and he responded in kind. I gave my condolences and we made small talk while we settled down to eat.

Imagine my surprise when not even a minute had passed before I had to whip out my internal slide rule.

Let's see......he tried to impress me with his Harley (-5), he placed his phone down on the table between us and let me know I needed to call my number on it (-5), and he told me to walk slower the next time I went back to the buffet so he could enjoy the view (-10). All those, while horrible attempts at pickup lines, were at least amusing so I comped him (+5). But oh, he wasn't done. Ten minutes into his sell he asked my name again (-5.) And finally, he capped it off by telling me he wasn't into relationships (which actually upped him +5!) but he lost those points in nothing flat by saying it was because he preferred to love 'em and leave 'em.

I had to respond to that last comment. "Not really selling yourself here," I told him dryly. That made Harl laugh out loud. He tried to explain it away by saying he'd given me a bonus because instead of finding out he was an ass after he kissed up to me for months, he was being honest and making me aware that he was an ass upfront. I had to score him a few points for a quick recovery (+5) but it still didn't make up for the whole impending ass-ness possibility (-20.)

All in all, he didn't do well at all, checking in at -35. Even at that score he was in my Oh-Hell-No category. But trying to pick up a chick at his sister's memorial service?

Insta-FAIL!

((Song: "Right Place Wrong Time" by Dr. John. Lyrics here:
http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/sahara/rightplacewrongtime.htm))

The Gap Between Crack and Thunder Is Closing In

I had an interesting weekend.

I went to visit a man I've known for about fifteen years now, off and on. Through the years we'd get in touch periodically but the last time we actually saw each other was about ten years ago. He and I have been back in touch for a couple of months and have been speaking on the phone every once in a while, catching up with our lives in the interim. We kept talking about getting together for lunch but our schedules never seemed to sync.

He left me a message on Friday and I called him back later that evening. Finally he asked me what I was doing on Saturday, saying that his next three or four weekends were booked. I told him I was free so we agreed to get together.

As I hung up I knew he had more than lunch on his mind.

Long story short, I was right.

The interesting part is that I'm in uncharted waters. I've always had this separation in my mind -- being friends was casual and relaxing and they were people you could be close to and hung out with. Dating, however.....now that was serious. I've always been the type that never wasted my time unless it was going to "go somewhere."

This won't, though. I don't want it to. He doesn't want it to. There are a hundred reasons why that's so and there's no need for me to explain further. The proof will ultimately be in the pudding. That being said, it's more than a little offputting to know that going in. I feel like I'm suddenly at odds with my fundamental self. There's a heavy whiff of that "so then why even bother?' feeling skating through me.

I know, I know. So okay, here's the thing. I'm trying to color outside the lines for once.

((Song: "Sometimes" by James. Lyrics here:
http://www.asklyrics.com/display/James/Sometimes_Lyrics/152106.htm ))

Faking-tine's Day

So today is Valentine's Day, which incidentally, might have been part of the reason why Yo didn't want me to show up today. That hadn't occurred to me until yesterday or the day before, hah! Shows how much this holiday really means to me. Hell, even when exh and I were still together we didn't celebrate it except for perfunctory card-giving because I hated (and hate) all the pomp and obligatory kiss-kissing.

Come to think of it, there's not really a holiday I DO like.....except Halloween. That one I like.

Anyway, roommate just left the house to head over to Queen's for the weekend. I know -- though he doesn't -- that she's got plans to do the candlelight wining and dining thing, no doubt climaxing (pun definitely intended) with gift exchanging and sweet nothings.

All of which he dreads. As he walked out the door a few minutes ago he said in a resigned tone, "I really don't like Valentine's Day. I'll just play the game."

Her efforts -- which are meaningful to her and are meant to help build a relationship that she values -- are obviously unappreciated. What means so much to her is only partially shared by her significant other. He plans to fake it.

I find it so very sad that she left a marriage that was filled with this sort of fakery, only to enter into another one with the same constraints. Although she might thinks she does, she doesn't really know the man she's dating. Or knows but doesn't want to know. If you catch my drift.

I Am In A Conventional Dither

Happy New Year everyone!

Let's see......where to start?

The holidays were fine. Rather enjoyable, as a matter of fact. I didn't feel the heavy obligations that I always felt when I was married so -- because I didn't HAVE to go to all these places -- I enjoyed going to the few I did go to. (My parents with the kiddo, in other words.)

The roommate and my friend Queen are dating...well, whatever passes for dating nowadays I suppose. I'm admittedly a little blurry on the definition. The roommate is in many ways like her ex. During my talk with her I told her she tended to gravitate toward emotionally challenged, unavailable men that make her work for the scraps of affection they throw her way. I mentioned her romantic entanglements resemble her relationship with her mother -- working for approval and praise and feeling that if either are given to her without her effort or her sacrifice it's worthless. I said, rather bluntly, that her relationship with roomate is like updating her software - Ex version 2, or "EX.2" Hee! I'm still concerned on many levels because I don't see anything but an oncoming train at the end of this particular tunnel, but I've said my peace to Queen and don't care to lose a friendship over it. She's a big girl. But I'll be there when he runs her over.

I'm going after work to join a gym. There's a first time for everything, hm? I've went a few times with a girl I work with and so far so good. I had troubles the last time I worked out -- 3 months, 4-5 times a week, 30-45 min each session, eating less than 1200 calories a day...and the only thing I got for it? Toned arms. Didn't lose a pound, didn't lose an inch. Thyroid, anyone????....but that's a subject for another rant. Anyway, I've got to think of it as a health and maintenance issue to keep me feeling strong and fit as opposed to a vanity issue. I do recall feeling better doing it. So I'm putting money where my mouth is.

Hm.....oh yes. I've got a few more additions to the "Oh My God She's Young" files: when I walked into the house a few days ago to pick up the kiddo Yo was there sitting on the couch with her laptop sending messages on MySpace. I briefly wondered why she was there since most of the time kiddo is home alone that soon after school is out. I found out why quickly. Seems Yo got fired from her job for, and I quote, "opening my mouth one too many times." This is the second job she's been fired from in as many years. But no worries, because she's apparently contemplating going back to school but "I don't know what I want to do." This is of course all on the Exh's dime. This oughta be fun; I remember well how tight it was for he and I and the kiddo to live on his salary and mine, much less his on its own. Then there's the fact that she likes to spend money a lot more than I do and that there's four of them. Wait, maybe five! As she was telling me about the job she said, "It'd be just my luck to get pregnant right now too." I thought to myself well that's easy to prevent you silly goose, but that works only if she really wants to prevent it in the first place. It's obvious she doesn't.

So I ended up standing outside talking to the exh while she was rolling around in the grass and chasing my kiddo, laughing and giggling. I watched her out of the corner of my eye and her youth was so painfully apparent that as I went on talking to exh I actually felt embarrassed for him.

Which also reminds me -- she's got over $800 worth of unpaid tickets to her home state and if she doesn't pay them, she could do jail time.

Oh my dear exh, whatever were you thinking when you hitched your cart to this wagon? Er, or it might be more accurate to ask, whatever were you thinking WITH?


((Song: "A Wonderful Guy" by Tex Beneke and Margaret Whiting. Lyrics here:
http://legalgeekery.com/2008/11/08/fallout-3-song-list/comment-page-3/))

WTF?

I'm seriously grossed out.

There are a lot of good things about my roommate. So far it's been pretty easy living with him, all things considered. He gives me plenty of space and is generally pretty laid back. But sometimes -- like now -- I have to question his sanity. Here's why.

The other night after dinner I was relaxing with a glass of wine and happened to notice he was doing the dishes. He's done them, for the most part, the entire time we've been roommates because he was unemployed until the last month or so. It's been great. Anyway, I looked over and watched him a moment and one of those observations you sometimes have come out of nowhere suddenly struck me: I hadn't heard the water running to fill the sink. So I get up, curious, and go into the kitchen.

I was right, there was no sink full of water. But no. He's standing there, running tepid water, and RINSING the dishes we'd just used! And putting them in the dishwasher to air dry (we don't use it as anything but a drying rack.) I asked him what he was doing, hoping he couldn't possibly be doing what it looked like he was doing. He told me that his ex-girlfriend had told him that if you got to them fast enough you didn't have to wash them. And that I needn't complain about it now because he'd been doing that for a year.

I was stunned. I just stood there speechless.

So sure, I've been under a lot of stress and I'm sure my immune system is a little shaky because of it. I've been figuring that susceptibility was why I've been getting sick more often in the last year. But you know, maybe that's only part of it. Maybe....just maybe....I've been exposed to more as well. Maybe THIS is why I've been sick more this last year than any years previously.

Is he seriously that much of an idiot?