I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Saturday night. I need to make this quick because TCB will be here soon to take me to the movies. (Woohoo!) I just wanted to share with all of you the sweetest thing ever: Alcott's 11-year-old brother today told me that he didn't have any buddies because all of the kids in his cottage hated him and were always taking his stuff, so he said I could be his buddy! Oh my gosh, if I'd been PMSing, I so would have been a blubbering mess of girly girl. It was all that I could do to say something about how having buddies was a very good thing and that I'd be very happy to be his. Yeah, he could have been playing on my emotions, but it was right at the end of our visit, so he knew I wasn't going to buy anything else for him, and I think it might have been genuine. Poor baby, he's such a good, sweet boy inside and everyone just sees Mr. Tough Guy with anger issues. To me, he's my cuddly wuddly guy and I have to agree with Alcott: he's my favorite, too.
In which our heroine drinks some wine and becomes maudlin
Friday night. No call. Not that I should have expected one. I know he had a really long week at work and was all in, but part of me wonders how "into" me he can be if he didn't call. I know he's a man of few words, but wouldn't he still be rushing off to the phone if he really liked me? [UPDATE next morning: I had an email waiting for me this morning from 9:42pm last night - he hadn't saved my numbers to his sim chip in his phone and he's been using a different phone, so no numbers for me. He's a really straightforward kind of guy, so I'm pretty sure it's true because it would be too much work to come up with a lie. Besides, it wasn't even 10pm yet and he was home for the night on a Friday. I really, seriously need to stop worrying about this guy!]
The hairstylist didn't come right out and ask me out, but he remarked upon my "sexy dress", my "hot looking" shoes, and just generally was suggestive the entire time he was cutting my hair. To be honest, it really got to be a bit much and I think he's just putting it on, so I had half a mind not to leave a tip at all, just to show him what I thought of it. I mean, there's no way that he's actually interested, and, while a little flirting never hurt, it just seemed a bit too over the top. I've half a mind to call and cancel my next appointment and go back to my former stylist. The only reason that I switched, some of my intrepid readers might remember, was to save money. I think I might just need to suck it up and pay the extra!
After a well-meaning reader pointed out that it was getting late and I still hadn't heard from TCB, I pulled out a bottle of late harvest zinfandel from Castoro Cellars and began to drink. I've finished about half of the bottle and it's 18.5% alcohol, so I'm definitely feeling no pain. I'm a bit sweaty and questioning the wisdom of having any more, but it's really tasty and it's making things all blurry and happy, which is a good thing. I'm afraid that, absent the wine, I'd just be sitting here thinking about how I've got a perverted hairdresser and one cute but not calling boy interested in me and what that says, exactly, about me. For goodness' sakes, can't I just find someone that likes me and that I like who is crazy about me without being filthy about it? I just want something nice and normal - is that too much to ask?
Friday afternoon. I do not wish to be here, at my desk, any longer. I'm tired, I'm fidgety, and I've finished reading my entire Blogroll. (I was going to rant about how everyone needs to post more often until I remembered that I've not been good about that, either.)
OK, I know that I said I wasn't going to jinx things with He Who Does Not Have a Cute Blog Name (HWDNHaCBN) by writing excessively about him, but he's on my mind this afternoon and I wish he'd call. He set perfectly reasonable expectations with me this week by telling me back on Monday that he'd be tied up with work until Friday and that I wouldn't hear from him until then (refreshingly little ambiguity, eh? LOL) and I've been fine with that up until this afternoon. Right now, I just want to hop in Esme the Escape, point her nose north up I-5, and sit on his doorstep until he gets home so that I can curl up on his couch in his messy apartment and just be there. No, he probably wouldn't cuddle or be demonstrative - I don't think that's his style - but we'd be together and that just sounds heavenly right now. I hope he calls tonight. Actually, I wish he'd call right now. Or now.
I'm getting my hair cut tonight and am mildly anxious, as my Overly Pretty Hairstylist Guy (OPHG) might have tried to ask me out last time - I think he did but I'm not sure if he was kidding or just flirting. Now I'm thinking about what will happen if he really did ask last time and does the same this time. I mean, I'm dating someone, although I'm not sure if it's exclusive or not but it had better be because, um, well, you know...we're physically involved, and I'm not the type of girl that dates more than one guy. Especially not when I'm, um, you know, with one of them. But what if we're not exclusive? What if we're just on date number two (which we are) and are casually dating...what are the rules then? But how can it be casual and, um, physical simultaneously??? See, this is why being physical too quickly is such a bad, bad, no-good-at-all idea!
Must stop freaking out. Stop! Now! Or now.
Oh, and I've definitely decided on a blog name for the person I'm dating (or not). From here on out, he shall be known as TCB - the cute boy. I reserve the right, of course, to change that on a whim as I figure things out. (Gosh, I really hope I figure things out!)
Dating shouldn't give you a headache, should it? Call, darnit, call!
Thursday night. Isn't the title of this post appropriate? I'm so completely self absorbed sometimes that it takes my breath away, but this time it's referring to the fact that the awkwardness I feel about my life and about being physical with someone (no, I'm not giving him a pseudonym yet...I'm very superstitious) is about me and what's in my head, not because of anything anyone else is giving off. When I feel badly about myself, I project that onto others and the reverse is true, too. Since that's so, I ought to be able to turn this ugly thing around and start thinking about myself in a more positive way, right? Honestly, I believe that just getting back into an exercise routine would go a long way to putting my head into a positive, nurturing frame of mind. Now to get that routine started. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, right? One step doesn't sound so scary.
Wednesday evening. Today is my second day home from work with a cold. I'm starting to feel better - finally - and am a little terrified of what I will find when I go back to work. This time of year is grueling for the managers and, although I've been keeping up with email, I'm still worried about what I'm not "up" on.
I talked with Alcott's case manager today in preparation for a difficult conversation we're going to be having with the kid tomorrow. I might not be Alcott's bestest friend ever afterwards for a bit, which saddens me, but that's part of what I signed on for when I agreed to do this job. The case manager was reassuring about Alcott's ability to process and work through what we're going to talk about and I'm sure that he will, too, but this is the first time I've had to be part of the tough decisions on his case and it's a tough milestone.
The cute boy, whose name I will not use until we're officially "dating", is putting on a symposium this week at work, so I've not spoken with him since leaving his house Sunday night. He warned me that it would be Friday before I'd hear from him, which I really do think is considerate. If I have appropriate expectations, I tend not to freak out nearly as much. I'm also realizing that he has a very different communication style than I'm used to and that I need not to read anything into what he writes or says other than exactly what's been said. If he only writes a one line email, it's not that he's mad or disinterested, it's that what he has to say only takes a line to say. In some ways, it's really refreshing and the realization made me smile. If I don't have to read anything else in, it's just a lot less work to be in a relationship, you know?
Oh, and, by the way, the whole "putting a hold on your check" thing at the banks really stinks. Hello, it's written on a major bank and it's obviously official because it's laser printed and everything, but they're going to deny me the right to use the full amount of the check for two weeks. I really need that money now but I'll just find ways to not spend any money without having food in the house. Seriously, money can be a real downer.
Monday morning. Wow, I haven't been here in a while, have I? No great revelations have been had, no overhauling of eating or exercise has been done, but I'm loving my life. Yes, I'm 80-ish pounds overweight and not heading in the right direction on the scale, but that's just one part of me. (I know it's the part that is the foundation of this site, but bear with me here.)
This weekend I (in chronological order): * Took Alcott and his older brother to their sister's birthday party. Twenty kids, a dog, a baby, Dance Dance Revolution, "my" kid, and me. Fun even with the start of a cold and even though I really wanted to fall asleep on the couch. Highlight of the day was when the oldest kid pushed the birthday girl's face into her cake.
* Got all of my ironing done. Is there a more satisfying feeling than pressing the ugly wrinkles out of a favorite piece of clothing? Never mind that I can no longer fit into about 1/3 of what I carefully pressed and hung in the closet - I'll deal with that later.
* Talked to Mom. Daddy's appointment with his cardiologist went well and he'll be starting the official cardiac rehab program at the hospital this week. (Not sure how the whole "working out in front of people" thing will work as my dad just does not do sweat pants or tshirts. Not.)
* Took Alcott and his older brother to their sister's ice skating party. We had a little hair gel emergency (he ran out - horror!) and several of the other kids (not Alcott's siblings) seemed bound and determined to push each of my buttons, but that just made me appreciate "our" kids even more. Holding a wriggling (newly minted) eleven year old on your lap and cuddling him against his will is just the best thing! The many Hello Kitty gifts were a great hit, no one sustained severe injuries, and I managed not to skate without catching too much grief from anyone. Did I mention how cute Alcott's older brother looked in my "Denver, Colorado" sweatshirt over his hip and cool warm-ups? He's such the stylin' dude and he was wearing my little, old grandma sweatshirt - only for his sister would he do such a thing.
* Went on a date. Saw Star Wars. Laughed and flirted and joked with the sweet boy. Talked about his upcoming formal dinner for work. Yes, it's the same guy. Yes, he did call me after what we will refer to from here on out as The First Date that Went Awry (FDtWA). No, it doesn't seem to have hurt our relationship (if you can call it that after two dates). Yes, I overreacted, but hear me now and hear me clearly, if anyone even thinks the words DRAMA QUEEN in relation to this website ever again, I will turn off comments and keep them off permanently. Guess what? It's my site and this is where I come to be as overwrought as I want. I don't do it anywhere else in my life and I want to retain my sanity, so either deal with it or don't - not my problem.
Let's end with something happy, shall we? Sometimes, even when your clothes don't fit and you can't seem to get your eating or exercise under control and you have to put off starting another class again because of scheduling problems...even then, life can be really beautiful. I'm going home now to my snug little abode with my baby kitties and the fish and the insanity that is my life. I'm so lucky!
