The well has run dry

So I've been dating for about three years. Three long, sometimes fun, sometimes painful years. Although I met my share of boys and men when I was a younger gal, I never did much dating. I was in high school and college. You didn't date. No one had money and instead you just sent your friends on covert (or not so covert) missions to find out if the guy you liked might be interested. Then you meet up at a party or other gathering. Not much true dating involved. I did ask a few guys to dances my freshman year and one to a play (ah Cory Kloehne, my cute, fluent in German friend). And my college sweetheart did take me to dinner at Chi Chis for a first date, but those are about the only ones I remember that fit into the awkward getting-to-know-you-how-do-I-act dating category.

Then I got divorced at the age of 27. That high school and college way of meeting guys just does not work anymore.

I have a few options: 1) bar hop and pick up guys hoping that one of these drunken encounters will develop into more. I don?t have a lot of confidence in this as this is how I ended up with my ex-husband (that and rebounding from aforementioned college sweetheart-cum-fiance). 2) Beg or hope my friends and family will set me up. I'm actually open to this, but so many of my friends and family are so far removed from the singles scene, it doesn't seem to be working. The one blind date I went on that was set up in this manner had less than stellar results (but that's what happens when the person doing the setup tells one party the other is spiritually "lost" and indicates she needs to be saved). 3) Being out and about enjoying life: participating in events, getting involved in organizations, etc. I do my fair share of this, but it has resulted in ZERO so far. Or 4) online dating. So this is where the majority of the men in my life have come from in the last few years. I have my opinions on why this works or not (maybe I'll share those later). Anyway, now that I've jabbered on for a while, here's my point:

I seem to have cycled through all the single men in the metro area. I can think of 5 or 6 different sites I have used to meet people at some point in the past three years and now the same guys are popping up on new online dating sites. And they don?t seem to remember that they have chatted with me before. Maybe this is really my fault for having a good memory. Plus there's also the guys who are on the same site that are contacting me for the second or third time and don't act like they know they have contacted me before. That worries me. It makes me think maybe they just throw everything up on the wall until something sticks - that they message every female just to see who will respond. I'm a lot more selective about who I will message.

So I guess I hoping the latest man in my life will make all this obsolete. I really don't like the playing the field game. The guessing sucks the most. I don't like a lot of uncertainty in my life. I'd rather know what to expect.

Beauty is...having fun with friends...

So I'm a chicken. I am letting beautiful people intimidate me. Beautiful people who may or may not have any substance.

External beauty often does not translate into much more. And besides, what is it that makes that beauty? Perfection? Is that what is really beautiful? Fear of using your body at all because of what might mar it? Spending my days perfecting or trying to preserve my skin, body, plastic surgery, chemically treated hair, etc? Not able to get dirty? Wrapping up my existence in my looks, attracting the opposite sex (okay, I might think about this more than I should), fashion, collecting material things, drinking and possibly other recreational drugs?

Remind me all that I have said here when I am feeling so incredibly inferior while out at one of the hip, show off your latest Botox bars at the marina tonight. Remind me that I have nothing to be intimidated by because LO AND BEHOLD I actually like who I am and know what activities I enjoy. Oh and why, do you ask, am I going at all? Because one of those activities I enjoy is laughing and, yes gossiping, with my girlfriends and that is where the girls will be tonight. Maybe next time we can do it at The Rathskeller or Scotty's!

A ponderance

Why is it that the same thing on one person makes him less attractive, but on another, it makes him more attractive?

In deep smit

I might be crazy, a little delusional. Maybe I'm living on fantasies that may never come true...


BUT I'm happy. So do I really care if it might just be pretend? If its ridiculous to think that life really could work out the way I want it to? Can I still revel in the feeling of floating on air for a few days?


Don't crazy people deserve to be happy too? :D

Damn Girl

As I was running yesterday (well I call it running although technically according to research I’ve done, my speed doesn’t hit the minimum speed for running…evidently my fastest is still a slow jog!), I was thinking that maybe I need to start keeping track of the sounds and messages directed towards me while I’m out and about.

Maybe it could grow into its own blog….

Anyway, my thought was, maybe it would be a good self-esteem booster when I need it. You would think just being able to run more than a dozen miles and being the strong female I am, I wouldn’t need ego boosters often, but you’d be wrong. I have my self-conscious days. And on those days, maybe it would help to remember that when I was returning to my office after an outdoor lunch on Friday, July 24, a man in a truck wearing a football jersey wolf whistled at me. Or that last week when I was running one of my 3-mile loops through downtown neighborhoods that an older black man nearly wrecked his motorbike twisting his head around to watch me run (he looked pretty stupid, but still entertaining for me).

Of course, one friend’s favorite is when the young black man at the bus stop yelled “Run, White Bitch, Run!” in my direction (I was the only white “bitch” running or jogging in that area at the time). I choose to believe it was meant as encouragement and admiration rather than the alternative.

So yesterday I netted a “Damn Girl” complete with once over as I made my way by on the city street near the State Capitol building (“Damn Girl” tends to be a favorite). Not bad for a Monday.

Sometimes I run on trails and others on the city sidewalks and although the trails tend to be a little faster since I do not have to stop to cross traffic as often, they aren’t nearly as entertaining…there aren’t many spectators on the trails (but I do instead have to deal with idiots who have no concept of trail etiquette with the long dog leashes…but that’s another blog altogether).

I guess when you’re so slow that occasionally walkers pass you in races (yeah, I’m not joking) I need a little reminder on occasion of why I still bother lacing up my shoes and running, jogging whatever, my ass off (oh, yeah, that’s the other reason I do it—the ass thing, I do like to eat).

No Shots of Crown This Year

Dizzy and out of sorts. My head hurts but it doesn't feel like pain.
I want to cry, but don't know why.
I didn't actually mean to rhyme...too late now.
Feeling the weight of life pressing down and finding it hard to push back;
to emerge from the pressure renewed or even just all right.

A detox of sorts is in order.
A rearrangement of priorities.
Some laughter would do me good.
Some friends, some time without responsibility.

Sounds like a birthday plan should be forming...