Wednesday, March 31, 2010

More or Less

About eight years ago I met the first man I fell in love with. (I was 32)
I had had so many years of dissappointment, of Mr. Maybes, of 'I-like-him-but-I'm-not-excited-about-him' experiences that I had no idea what love might really feel like. So when I met Joki and we shared the excitement of wanting to see each other All. the. Time, not worrying about who called last, or if calling again might seem desperate... and just basking in one another's company, well it was completely new to me.

We were in the same career field (read: neither of us makes much money) which accounted for our similar personality traits and spot on senses of humor.

It didn't last. Due to our religious differences, (he's Jewish, I'm Catholic - and while I knew we could make it work if we decided to - he was set on marrying a Jewish woman. He's engaged now, BTW and she's lovely, Hubble.) we decided not to start something we couldn't finish.

It was the first hardest decision I ever made.
But I took it as a message from God that if He had made one man like Joki - there had to be more!

Soon after, one of my girlfriends came to me trying to justify breaking up with a guy who was 'great' but didn't own his own home, or have a high paying job. These were her chief complaints about the relationship.
To be honest, I thought she was being materialistic... and I told her that if I could have made it work with Joki, I was fully prepared to live with him in my little one-bedroom, 740 square foot condo for the next 40 years if that's all we could ever afford.

She told me that my passionate dissertation on Mr. Right gave her goosebumps, and also made her realize that she wasn't in love with Mr. Not-Rich-Enough.

Then I met Mr. Burns
I thought right away... in the first week that this was the guy I would marry. It was destined.

We talked about how we would live if we ended up together.
I told him once that if I could spend on deep tissue massage, what he spends on golf-- I'd be the happiest, most relaxed woman alive. He said that was definitely do-able.

When I put food away in his french door, stainless-steel fridge - the puny, poor layout of my own fridge seemed woefully inadequate. When we have a house, we must take that fridge with us.
When he brought flowers home to brighten his own condo (never for mine, btw) I dreamed of having a house with a garden so that I could grow my own flowers to decorate our home.

And a job for me? No. I would dabble in photography and try to make babies.

The life I imagined with him had to have more MORE M O R E.

I started to think that maybe I was wrong about Joki. That I must have been caught up in the giddiness of love - and it made me believe I could do without.

Now in the short time I've spent getting to know Jerry/Hugh, I've learned that together, we would have a modest life. And I love the idea.

Yes, I know I'm getting carried away thinking about an uncertain future... I daydream, I'm a girl... so sue me!

He runs his own business, which is a daily struggle to break even. He's told me that he already sees and appreciates that I'm not a materialistic girl, that I don't judge him for not owning a home or condo yet, even though I do own my own.

When I imagine a future with Jerry/Hugh, I imagine renting an apartment with a couple bedrooms and an office in mid-town. No backyard, but a park nearby - no garden but oh well. Monthly massages... I can probably forget about that. I would have to work if I could keep a job (perpetual unemployed girl here...) and maybe work my way into running a portrait business - to which he could contribute his skill-set on the business side of things.

So here I am again
Thinking that I could live on little but love.
Like the life I imagined with Joki.
But not with Mr. Burns. With Mr. Burns, I needed so much filler in my imaginary life.

I could only picture a life with him if I was getting more stuff from him. Probably because I knew I would never experience the love I needed.

Yes, I'm getting carried away thinking about possibilities ~ but the lesson from my day-dreaming is this... I really think I'd rather be poor and happy than rich and miserable. I think if you can see being happy with someone with little, you're probably on the right track.
If you think you can only be happy with someone if you have plenty - there's a message there.

Thursday, March 25, 2010


Recently, I've a discovered a sparkly, clever blogger named T!nk. You may have noticed some of his thoughts in the comments of my posts.
I, of course was intrigued and went to check out his blog where he reminded me of some words of wisdom. Wisdom that I had forgotten.
"Always listen to your gay."

It's a variation on my own form of wisdom which is... "Every woman needs a good gay man in her life."

It's so true. Recently a friend of mine moved into a new apartment building and made friends with an outrageously funny gay man. He joined us for a party and I found myself all jealous that she had a gay guy and I didn't. Wah.


T!nk's words reminded me that I had fallen out of touch with my dearest gay friend. I called him immediately and left a message citing T!nk's advice and telling him how much I missed him.

Now we're talking each week again - and today I got to tell him about Jerry/Hugh. I forgot how great it is to talk about guys with a gay man.

Me: "He has black sort of curly hair... and he wears it a little long."
GGF (Gay Guy Friend) : "Long curly hair? Ooh... does it look good?"
Me: "It's not really long. Just a couple inches long rather than cropped close to the head. It looks good on him - and nice to run my fingers through."
GGF: "Oh yeah, that's nice."
Me: "He's really tall, and really thin... with that black hair and blue eyes."
GGF: "OMG! How cute!"

I had to laugh... because I wouldn't even go into that much detail with my girlfriends.
I knew I truly missed my gay friend when he was talking about a client that bugs him, because the client doesn't like it when GGF uses exclamation points in his email correspondence.

GGF: "Are you kidding? For me it's not a question of whether to use an exclamation point, but how many!!!"

So true. Obviously I suffer from the same affliction.
We also discussed my coming to visit, because GGF and his partner always let me stay at their house and they are the world's best hosts.

GGF: "That's GGFP's area. He loves to play host."
Me: "That's right. He's like the Host with the Most on Steroids. 'Do you need another pillow? Can I cut you some cantaloupe in the shape of stars? Do you need a towel?"
GGF: "Do you need a towel to stand on?"

Oh my. How have I gotten along without him?

If any of my regular bloggy friends wonder how I align my faith beliefs with accepting my gay friends -- it's like this; I believe very strongly that God did not put me here to judge others. If what they are doing is wrong - God will handle that. The Lord put me here to love my neighbor - and to show love to my friends. So that is what I do. Post edit - I find it much easier to love my gay friends... than to love people who are mean to me. I need to work on that - the call to love everyone is truly a challenge!

Oh and T!nk... My GGF was also in the military, prior to DADT. Thought you'd like to know that!

I Just Need You Now

Caught between a catchy tune and something to sing along with... I'm enjoying Lady Antebellum's song 'Need You Now'.

The vocals in this song are lovely... but something about the refrain doesn't sit right with me:

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now.
Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now.
And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now.

Is this a song about a booty call?
It reminds me of an ex-boyfriend of mine - who years later would occasionally call me in the early morning, weekend hours when the bars shut down.
Text book booty call right?
Except, he was in Tennessee while I was in Colorado.
Not much of anything is going to happen with that sort of distance.

I could never figure out why he was calling me except for his explanation that he's still buzzed and wants to talk to someone and it was too late to call anyone in his time zone!

Since it was two hours earlier where I lived - he was calling me at about 1:00am and we would talk about what was happening in our lives, and also talk about the past... about people we both knew and we would reminisce about the time we spent together.

I always thought it was odd for an ex-boyfriend to call for that sort of conversation. It didn't happen a lot, but enough that I wasn't too alarmed when it did happen. Not surprisingly, he stopped when the last call was to announce that he got engaged the night before. (That was shocking as my response was. "To whom?!" He had never mentioned he was dating anyone. Just calling for his platonic booty call every few months.) By the way, how strange is it to call an ex-girlfriend the very morning after you propose to someone else?!! Just say'n!

So you can see how I never made sense of that.

Last weekend, I think I figured out the answer.
On Sunday I heard an interview with Lady Antebellum. They were asked how they accounted for the popularity of the song.
The answer was that they thought it was something everyone could relate to. The male singer (I don't really know the group) said, "Sometimes when a guy is up late and has had too much to drink, he just needs someone who is really important to him to be there."

Hmm. Maybe I was more important to this guy than I thought.

Jerry/Hugh update: He came over after work (9:00pm)last night with a bottle of wine to spend some time together, (rather than on the phone since we only live about 12 blocks apart). We talked until 2:00am. He's so easy to relate to, we have tons in common. I'm learning that he is truly, a good man. I really like him.

Here's a funny. As he made arrangements to meet up - we were trying to determine if we had each had dinner. (I had just made myself something, he hadn't) So he said "It's okay... I'll just eat a little something before we go to bed."
"We?" I asked.
"Did I say 'We'?" He was suddenly mortified! Explaining that he had absolutely no ulterior motives!!
I'm happy to report, we only engaged in a tiny amount of smooching... all above board. He's a good guy!

Arggg. It's actually frustrating because even though I enjoy getting to know him and taking it slow - there's part of me that just wants to jump ahead and see how it all turns out!!

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Slippery Slope

When Jerry/Hugh and I had dinner the other night, we sat across from each other in a booth. By the time we had been talking for an hour after our meal our was finished, he started to hold my hand across the table.

It's so strange to be dating again, that I actually had to consider whether it was weird or sweet to be holding hands. I mean - I'm almost 40 for crying out loud! It seems so silly, so backwards.
I decided on sweet. Hey, that's the way it's supposed to go.

After we had been talking for FOUR hours on our date, he invited me to sit on his side of the booth when I returned from the ladies room. It wasn't long after that, he kissed me. (yes, it was lovely - despite being in a public place!)

See, I'm a girl who waits to kiss until the third date.

You know why? Because in our society - things have become so distorted that many men expect sex on the third date! I reserve kissing for the third date to let a man know that I'm not that kind of girl!

This morning, on the AM Radio Show the hosts were talking about a survey. It had asked either 1500 or 15,000 women (I'm bad with numbers so I can't remember - and I can't find the source right now) on which date in a new relationship is it okay to have sex with your date.
The majority answer was the THIRD DATE! 10% responded that it was okay on the first date if you really connected!

This is ridiculous to me! What on earth does a couple know about one another by the third date to risk having a child together?!!! Yuck. That's part of the problem that our society's contraception mentality has created. (Conversion Diary has a great explanation of the Contraceptive Mentality - scroll down to that section or read this whole post... it's amazing.)

Back to my date.
He walked me not only to the door of my building, but to my own personal door on the third floor. (it was already 2:30am! ) We talked on my sofa for a bit, and kissed a bit more. This wasn't exactly the third date so I started wonder if this was all too soon.

But we had just talked for six hours! It's not as if we hadn't gotten to know one another.
So I looked up at him and said, "Wait. Maybe we should talk some more!"
As expected, he burst out laughing.
I took the opportunity to ask, "Is this our second date? Or our first? Was our breakfast meeting a date?"
"Of course it was a date. Plus, we've spent more than 15 hours on the phone together - this is like our 4th or 5th date."

"Well then, I guess it's okay to kiss."

But I am regretting it a little bit. I think I really like him, and now that we've kissed we've raised the bar a bit. If I'm trying to save sex for marriage - (whether with Jerry/Hugh or someone else) there's not a whole lot left between kissing and sex to reserve for the slow reveal.
Plus, it doesn't take much kissing before the desire to tear off clothing kicks in.
Sigh. Been there before!
Such a slippery slope.

For the record, Italian Guy asked me if I kiss on the second date. I said no. A) because I'm a third date girl - B) I'm already kissing Jerry/Hugh and C) Italian Guy is very recently divorced with three small children and no annulment yet. Oh... and D) as a by-product of being divorced, he hasn't really dated in 19 years so I figure I should help him set reasonable expectations.

Sunday, March 21, 2010


I went out with Jerry/Hugh Friday night and we closed the place down!

We went out to a pub/bar for dinner at about 9:00 and when the place closed at 2:00am they kicked us out with the rest of the stragglers. 2. AM. Seriously.

We talked the entire time. My voice was raw from talking over the music blasting from the speaker directly above our booth.
Obviously we have tons to talk about - we even delved into some heavy stuff like his dad's death, and my sister's death - family - faith and lots of other stuff.

I like him.

Sunday night I had a date with the Italian Guy who I met online. This was our second date - and I wasn't very excited about it - because I already like Jerry/Hugh.
But the date was better than expected, and I like him more than I did after my first impression on our first meeting.

We went for coffee after dinner - a little independently owned shop buzzing with students on their laptops, working on homework.

As he drove me home, he initiated a conversation about whether men and women can declare someone of the same gender attractive. The general rule is that women will acknowledge another beautiful women... but that most men aren't comfortable doing so in regard to their own gender.
Italian Guy said, that yes he could say another guy is attractive - for example the guy sitting diagonal to us in the coffee shop was a good looking guy.

Yes, I agreed he was.

"I know." IG said, "I saw you checking him out."
Thank the Lord the inside of the car was dark, because I'm sure I turned five shades of red.
"I didn't check. him. out."
"Yes you did. You were even obvious about it. You up-and-downed him."
"No! I noticed that he was there. And that he was nice looking. And that he was wearing cargo shorts, which I thought was strange, considering the weather - but I wasn't giving him the up-and-down!"

He playfully argued with me... but I was squirming. I swear, I wasn't ogling. I just noticed the kid. But I'm so embarrassed - because I would be livid if I caught my date checking out a woman.

Totally. Busted.
Even though I swear I wasn't checking him out. I simply saw the young good looking guy - who happened to be sitting under a very interesting piece of art.

My face is still red.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Now What?

Oh the wondering.

When you meet someone new and even if you're fairly certain they are interested in you - there is still that bit of insecurity that he may not call.
I'm not the type to wait by the phone and wail, but hey - I'm ready to get on with things.

So last night I was talking with a friend, Mibr, telling her that Jerry/Hugh hadn't called yet, and it was already Thursday. I made plans with an online guy for Sunday. Mibr and I are thinking of seeing a movie either Friday or Saturday.

A minute after I ended the call with Mibr, Jerry/Hugh called.
We talked for four hours again!
It's ridiculous! He even said, if he'd known we would talk for that long, we should have just met up and seen each other in person!
I agreed by pointing out that my hair looked really cute last night and it was a shame to waste it!!

I do enjoy talking with him - but he keeps me up too late!
Granted, I have been in the habit of staying up that late anyway -1:00am - but I'm trying to break the habit. And when I am up that late by myself - I'm just groggy. When I'm on the phone, talking, I start to get punchy. Giggling fits. Laughing at nothing.

Then I'm embarrassed because it's uncontrollable giggling.
He said it was kind of cute - because it showed a girly side of me. I guess that's sort of sweet.

But at this point we've spent more time on the phone together than in person.
I think we should make it a goal to have our face-time outrank our phone-time.
I'll tell him tonight. We're going to try to get together if the weather cooperates.

(spring snow here... thick heavy, wet snow that makes half the drivers here panic... making it dangerous for everyone. Grr. I wish the people who moved to Colorado from snowless states could be ordered to either stay home - or learn to drive in snow. Seriously, it's no reason to panic!!)

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Get Noticed

It's a strange transition from being devoted to one guy for almost three years - to being totally single and looking again.

When we broke up in the interim, in the winter of 2008 - I forced myself to move on, but I didn't feel pretty. I didn't feel good enough. But darn if I wasn't putting myself out there.

Fact is, throughout my single life I have been utterly clueless about men finding me attractive or flirting with me.

I recall, when I was a reporter I was sent out to some bar to cover the debut of the XFL (Extreme Football League) The game started at 8:00pm, the location was a 40 minute drive from the TV station - and we had to have the story written and edited for the 10:00 news.
Short turnaround.

So the photographer and I had a plan: He'd shoot cover video, we'd get some random soundbites and haul our butts back downtown to the TV station.
So when some guy with a couple cans of courage in him, came up to tell me that if I interviewed him, I'd have great material to get a job with CNN - and continue to insist upon it - I was just annoyed. What a pain-in-the-arse! Can't he see I'm working?!

On our way back downtown, I vented to my photographer.
"TRS, he was flirting with you."

HE WAS?!!!

Then my photographer friend pointed out that he noticed men were flirting with me all the time - and he was amused that I never saw it!

Never did.
I guess I just never feel that desirable.
I always felt that I'm constantly putting myself out there - and never get any feedback. Always picking out guys that I'm attracted to - but sensing that they don't know that I'm there. At all.

So it's interesting that these days, I'm noticing men noticing me.

Yesterday, I ran a quick errand at the mall. Despite my better judgment I decided that I deserved a Chai Latte from TakeURBucks.
I ordered and paid, then went to stand at the end of the counter to wait for my finished drink.

There was a guy my age waiting there too, talking on his cell phone. I assessed, he was kind of cute but not fantastic. Nice eyes. The kind of guy who looks like an unmistakeably nice guy.
His drink came up and I overheard him end his phone call. "Listen, I gotta go. Call you back in a few."

He rummaged around looking for a straw for his drink... it was a yellow-green, frothy concoction. He turned to me and said, "It looks like something I would have refused to try when I was a kid."

True. We talked about it's mango, banana goodness... the finicky nature of children... and I realized - he ended his phone call just to strike up a conversation with me!

It didn't go anywhere - but gee - it's nice to be noticed.

I'm definitely noticing that men are looking at me differently these days.
Could it be that they can see that I know now that I deserve love, that I'm ready to find love and I'm open to meeting someone special.

Or is it just that my hair is passed my shoulders?!

Saturday, March 13, 2010

In Which I Learn, He IS Cute and also In Which I Eat a Small Amount of Crow

Okay friends. He is cute!
Remember the guy my friend wanted me to meet? We met for a late breakfast today.

I arrived at the restaurant first and asked the hostess if (His Name) was already there. She didn't think so, but offered to seat me. I told her I would wait, and then confidentially told her that I was meeting him for the first time. She got all giddy, and smiled and shared that she would live vicariously through me. She was so charming!

Soon after, he arrived - and I knew who he was right away. He was cute. I felt like we looked like Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks at the end of Sleepless in Seattle when they finally meet and keep looking at each other - making the reality add up with the imagery.

So yeah, he's cute. Not in a... "Oooh he's so cute." sort of way... but he's attractive, nice looking in a ... "Yeah, I could sit across the dinner table from that face for the next 40 years." sort of way.

I spent some time mentally trying to figure what celebrity I might say he resembles ... and finally settled on a cross between Jerry Seinfeld and Hugh Grant.

I know. Odd combination, right?

For the sake of discussion, I am told that I resemble either: Annette Benning, Lauren Graham or Martina McBride.

Anyway, we met for breakfast at 10:00 and stayed at the table until 12:30!!
He's nice and funny and smart. I would definitely like to see him again.

Now for the part where I eat crow.

Remember my last post where I said the guys my age in online dating look awful - 10 years older?

So I'm working at the portrait studio yesterday, and this guy comes in for a passport photo.
He is a very good looking guy. A little bald - but I dig bald. He was really handsome. I'm guessing my age within about 3-5 years.

I checked for a bare ring finger and started to put my flirt on.

I took the passport photo which is done with a Polaroid type camera. Then the photo developed and I saw him as this one dimensional figure ... his bald head looked bigger, his face looked wider ... all in all he looked... meh.

So ladies - keep in mind, not everyone photographs well. Sometimes a picture just doesn't do justice. And let's face it, with the sorts of pictures men tend to post - there's a very good chance it's not doing anybody any justice!!

Here I stand, corrected!

Photos: all found via Google Image Search

Thursday, March 11, 2010

It's Ugly Out There

EDIT UPDATE - Scroll down!!

It's time for me to actually get out there and meet people.

After a break up, it's natural to hibernate a bit. I'm dipping my toe in the online dating pool, but it's pretty depressing.

I'm turning 40 this year and when I look at the available 40 year old men - I really regret having saved myself for some crusty old fart!
(I know, I'm sorry!)

When I was a kid, it seemed 40 was the kiss of death for women - but nowadays - let's face it, 40+ women look fantastic. (Sandra Bullock, Kelly Ripa, Sarah Jessica Parker, Madonna, Halle Berry)

My girlfriends all look fantastic too! And it's not all about genetics, about being blessed with good looks - they work to look this good. It's called being fit.
(actually, I am lucky. I don't work out much anymore, but I'm still thin - though I'm not in the shape I'd like to be. And I've always looked at least 4 years younger than my actual age.)

But men my age... yeesh - they look awful!
(not all of them of course - but enough for it to be disturbing)

Never mind looks. Charm can easily outweigh looks, but these guys are clueless about pursuing a woman. There is a reason they're single.

I just gotta share this exchange with this guy.

First of all, he posts a picture that doesn't even identify his face (a no-no on dating sites). An obscured face tells me he's cheating on his wife, or otherwise on a dating site in some undercover capacity.

And the fact that the only picture he does post, is all about his physique - which is nice, don't get me wrong - but it suggests that he is only interested in the physical.
To be clear, this guy isn't 40 either. They really seem to go downhill the moment they turn 40!

Proceed with caution.

Here's our exchange. It took an entire week to get this far:
Him: just want to say hi
Me: (okay, that's not much to work with but I'll bite.)

Him: youre a doll

Me: (Hmm, no punctuation. Sloppy.) Yes, well... You're a man of few words it seems.

Him: ah, as are you i see

Me: No. I'm a woman. And I am a talker... writer... very wordy. But you haven't asked me anything.

Him: so you only talk if asked questions? what do you write about?
I guess I've had enough of this... or maybe I'm premenstrual...

Me: Not so much that I only talk if asked questions... but I do expect a man do something that resembles PURSUIT. You know, show some interest. Want to know something about me. Have a desire for me to know something about you.

When a guy says nothing more than "Hi." and only shares one picture that shows more of his muscles than of his face... a woman tends to think he's not so interested in building a relationship. So I sort of need to see some effort on your part. Right now, I get the impression that I'm supposed to be impressed with your body and just get on my back.



I'll admit that I didn't put much hope in the exchange to begin with because he identifies himself as 'non-religious'. That's not a deal-breaker though, because I figure he might still be worth getting to know. That identifier doesn't tell me anything about what he does believe.

Mostly, I'm bothered that he's hiding his face and flaunting his body. Yes, I want to meet a guy in good shape - so now you may accuse me of talking out of both sides of my mouth.

But the site allows you load as many photos as you want - which allows you to show many aspects of your life.

If you choose to only post one - and it's this one - I just can't believe you have intentions toward a real relationship. I'm guessing you only want a physical relationship. And if you back it up with meager communication - I think my suspicions are confirmed.

So, it's time to start getting dressed up and going out. March Madness begins soon. I only need to round up a girlfriend and sit in a sports bar filled with real live, breathing men!

So - Mr Non-Religious Fireman responded back. I quote... verbatim: "ok. no thanks"

ha ha ha ha bwwwwwhaaa ha hah!!!

Wednesday, March 10, 2010


I just shed tears for a Hollywood star. Someone I didn't know. Someone who hadn't crossed my mind since some silly 80s movie.

ABC News' Nightline just aired a story about former child actor Corey Haim.

He died from an apparent drug overdose - probably in the early morning hours of March 10th.

Sadly these days, we're not terribly surprised when stars fizzle out - or even snuff out their own lives. Even sadder, it's often fodder for entertainment programs and news programs to speculate on what happened, what could have happened, how it happens.

Two things impacted me in this story - which focused on what exactly is it about child stars that seems to end so tragically. One was an interjection from actor Kirk Cameron, of TV's Growing Pains. Cameron avoided the child actor curse he says, because when he was 17 years old he searched for what his life was ultimately about and then dedicated it to Christ. Now he acts in and produces movies and series that promote his faith in Christ.

As much as I admire his life's dedication, I always worry a little when he's interviewed for something like this... because I know that some viewers will dismiss him as some silly bible-thumper. But I am always proud of him for standing strong and proud.

What he said tonight (and I can't find a direct quote) made me realize that he found what many famous people just can't find because the trappings of this earthly world are far too intriguing when one has the money to obtain them.

The second thing that struck me... came at the end of the report when they noted that Haim had recently taken out an ad in Variety (the showbiz - insider rag that all directors, producers and other moguls subscribe to ) proclaiming that he was ready to work, ready to make amends.

That is what stemmed the tears. Here he was - working to clean up his life and ready to embark on whatever it takes to be productive. To do what he loves. To make up for what he had done poorly in the past. And he didn't get the chance.

It made me think... is this a life wasted? Or a life protected?

Maybe that's all the Lord needed to see. Corey Haim was ready to do it right.
Maybe that's all it takes to be released from the trappings of this earthly world.
Quite likely, the Lord relieved him of all those temptations.
"My child, you are ready. Come home. Let me show you what it really is all about. Let me relieve you of this pain."

So... to some child star I didn't know or care about (Although I did LOVE The Lost Boys!) congratulations on your homecoming. Lord knows this next life will be so much better.

photo from:

Thursday, March 04, 2010

Loss of Sanity

Sometimes I think that when women get married... even if they were single well into their 30s, they lose all sense of reality!

I told you about a friend who wants to introduce me to a guy. She's busy working, painting and renovating a house with her husband and doesn't have time to plan an evening any time soon to introduce us.

When I saw her at a baby shower, she asked me if the guy had called me.
No, he had not.
"I talked to him three times, and told him to call you." she assured me.

Before I could respond, we were distracted by party activities but I wanted to say, "Have you lost your good sense woman?! He's not going to call me out of the blue just because you gave him my number. Nobody does that! I certainly don't blame him. You're going to have to bring him to a church fish fry or something, to introduce us."

You get married and suddenly this seems like how single people behave?
I'm seriously concerned about her sanity.

Guess what?
He called me last night.

Out of the blue - just because she gave him my number and told him to call.
He even apologized for not calling sooner. When I told him that I didn't have an expectation for him to call - based on the situation - he was stunned. Impressed. Shocked that I wasn't a woman with strange expectations.
"That's so cool." he said.

And we talked. for. four. hours.

When my friend told me that she known him for 12 years, and the only person she could ever think of to introduce him to was me... and she's been waiting three years to do so - I had to think that there's a good chance it's a good match.

Talking to him - even after one hour - it was clear that we not only have a lot in common but really click.

I just hope he's cute.

Wednesday, March 03, 2010


My friends that are closest to me... actually live the furthest away.
I miss out on a lot.

I dream about being my friend's next door neighbor. Or at least being in the same city so that we could meet for coffee (ahem... Chai Latte) and catch up. Instead, we have one hour or three hour phone conversations.

Long distance friendships work differently. But the same in their own sweet way.

I call Kaha when I'm doing dishes and cleaning the house. We talk while I make my bed and put away laundry. When Kikr calls, I can't do anything but sit and talk. I've never figured out why.

When Kaha was shopping for her wedding gown, she called me as she emailed photos of herself in the top two contenders. The first one wasn't quite right, and I wondered how to tell her. Then I opened the second jpg and smiled... "Oh my! That's the one... you're a bride!! It's perfect!"

Kaha then Kikr
A year later, Kikr did the same thing... she was settled on one dress and sent me a photo. I'll never forget opening the jpg and being overwhelmed with tears and emotion. "You're beautiful! That's the dress you're getting married in!!"

Sometimes I feel that my friendships suffer because of the distance.
Then there are days that I know we are just as close - states away - as we would be if we were on the same block.

Kikr and I wear the same size - and when either of us need to update our closets, the other gets a box of clothes in the mail! Recently we realized that we're even gaining weight and changing sizes at the same rate. Now that's a true friend!

Last night, Kikr called to chat. I told her about meeting one of my online dating prospects.
She told me about the meatloaf she was making. Her hubby was at bible study, so she had all evening to talk. We discussed again, my fear of never finding the right guy and my approaching 40th birthday, the impending end of my reproductive cycle.

She understands, because she's the same age and even though she and her hubby have been married for two years, regular practice is proving futile.

Apparently she was waiting for an opening... "Okay. I'm going to do this now. I have to go pee on a stick. I'll be right back."
She was back and our conversation resumed, as if there were no interruption. "Don't you love how I have a supply of these sticks under the sink? Every month, pee on a stick."

I felt her frustration. Understood completely.

We were dissecting the intrinsic value of the guy I met for lunch when she said, her voice belying her disbelief... "The stick says, 'pregnant'."

Suddenly I was bouncing around my living room, squealing! As I crossed before the mirror on the dining room wall, I was surprised by my bright red face.

"Oh honey, you finally found a stick that works!"

Every week we share the mundane, day-to-day stuff in our conversations.
This time, I was honored to be the person she leaned on for support - and to learn with her that her life is about to change!
I'm usually not the first to know anything, so to be right there with her was amazing for me.

Totally made up for my other friend, who when we actually lived in the same city went shopping for her wedding dress without me - I didn't even see it until her wedding day. As the Supreme Shopping Goddess in all my relationships, that one really hurt!

I'm convinced, the closeness that maintains friendships has nothing to do with proximity!

Monday, March 01, 2010

Sucker Punch from an Angel

I guess you could say my weekend was rather exciting. Not in a good way.

Do you have one of those friends that won't let you say no to an invitation? Even being unemployed and claiming lack of funds as a legitimate excuse doesn't get you out of her "Oh, come oonnnnn! It'll be fun!" tirade. Actually, she drops the pressure on most invitations these days, but there is always one she has to get spun up over.

This time it was the annual Dim Sum lunch with which we celebrate a fringe friends' birthday. I went last year and it was pretty affordable so I figured this could be the invitation to acquiesce on. However, there are a lot of seafood dishes in Dim Sum so I would have to be high alert. (I am severely allergic to all fish and seafood).

If you've never been to Dim Sum - it's at an Asian restaurant, and when they serve Dim Sum they just bring out little dishes of all sorts and you share everything with your table. There are no menus. (sometimes there is a visual guide - but not the sort of menu where you would be able to determine what is actually IN the food item.)

The waitresses hold up a dish and say, "Yoo wan dumpling?" Yoo wan eggroll?"
They must hate me there, because I have to quiz them. "What is in it?"
and the answer is, "Bee", "Poor" beef, pork or "Shii" which I guess is shrimp.

You can imagine, when you're trying to determine if the food they're putting in front of you might kill you... it's really frustrating to hear broken English!!

So I determine a fairly innocuous dumpling. When I inquired of the waitress, she said it was Bee. It was tasty. So tasty that my radar went up - that was more than beef.

Three minutes later my throat felt tight. Then I heard someone else at the table point to the plate of dumplings and describe it as beef and shrimp.
My throat got tighter.
Ladies and gentlemen... I have to go.

I planned to drive to the closest drug store, but I was in an unfamiliar part of town and didn't see one. I figured it would be just as quick to go straight home where I had plenty of Benadryl. I changed lanes to head home... and at that moment spotted a W@lgreens - so the spirit moved my car back over three lanes to get into their parking lot.

I made a beeline to the pharmacy where I found a package of sweet pink relief (benadryl) and went to the counter to open the box and peel back the safety lining.

My throat was tighter now than in any of my prior worst reactions.
I quickly informed the pharmacy tech that I accidentally ate shrimp.
The pharmacist overheard and commanded, "Take two of those right now. You'll ring it up later."
A glass of water appeared.
The pharmacist asked if I had an Epi-pen or a prescription.
Not on me, and the prescription is with another pharmacy.

I got out my cell phone and found my allergy doctor's number, hoping they had Saturday hours.
The answering machine gave an emergency number which I relayed, through tears and gasping to the pharmacist who was writing everything on a pad.

I don't even know when I started crying. I think your body just takes over when it is in danger. I wouldn't have been able to control it if I wanted to.

So here's the beautiful thing. This pharmacist seemed to understand that. He didn't try to tell me to calm down. Even when the phone number I relayed to him came up a digit short, he seemed to understand that I couldn't think clearly under this physical stress.
I redialed the doc's office and handed him my cell phone to hear the number for himself.

He handed me a box of Kleenex and a small waste can (to spit in - when the benadryl starts to work - one of the results is a lot of saliva - I think it's one more way for the body to get the bad stuff out.) and told me to sit down.

I was sobbing by now, because my breathing was restricted. It took me a few minutes to realize that he was talking to my doctor and arranging for the prescription himself.

I started to develop a Hero Crush!

It seemed like forever, but he finally came out to the chairs and asked if I wanted to shoot myself or if I wanted him to do it.

"You're going to have to do it. I know I can't."

He knelt down in front of me and told me that he needed me to close my eyes and count to ten.
I turned my head, closed my eyes and before I even got to one... "Aaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh! agh.. agh!" I heard my own scream and it was awful! I heard the sound travel to the walls at the front of the store. I imagined people's heads turning in shock and fear.

I opened my eyes and the pharmacist was holding the epi-pen into my thigh. It hurt so bad I wanted him to take the needle away, but I saw the look of determination on his face - and he must have seen the agony in mine so he explained that he had to hold it for ten seconds.

The epinephrine (adrenaline) coursed through my body. In a matter of minutes maybe seconds, I could breathe. My body shook.

I called a friend to come get me. The doctor had ordered me to go to the closest emergency room - but I told him that I was unemployed, and couldn't afford an ER bill. Would an urgent care be sufficient? Dr reluctantly agreed. (He had to advise me to the ER for liability reasons. But I knew I couldn't afford the $1500 bill just to sit in a bed and have a nurse check on me every 90 minutes.)

By the time my friend Mime and her boyfriend arrived - I was back to normal. Accept for my leg. Mr. Pharmacist had slammed that pen into my leg so hard, my muscle was bruised. I couldn't bend my leg - so my friend's boyfriend would have to drive my car.

Mr. Pharmacist sat next to me and gave my friends the lowdown, while patting my other leg and saying he was sorry he hurt me.
Hero Crush continued!
He took great pleasure in telling my friends about my "blood-curdling scream" and describing that once I finished screaming, a smile spread across my face and I said, "I'm okay. I'm just a screamer."

(I vaguely remember that... I think I smiled because I was embarrassed by my scream - and it's true, I am much louder than I need to be.)

So my friends took me home. A piggyback ride up three flights of stairs because I couldn't bend my knee. Then Mime's boyfriend went to pick up Thai food for me. I took a course of two benadryl every four hours for the rest of the day and obviously missed work because I passed out every 40 minutes from the benadryl.

I am very grateful for my friends - and for this pharmacist who treated me like a real live person with feelings. I'm writing the company to tell them just how great this pharmacist is, and that he treated me with genuine care and concern - even as he was getting a little behind in filling other prescriptions.

An angel in a white coat - and some really ugly tennis shoes.