2013 Year-End Review

How is it possible for a year to fly by and simultaneously drag on? Because that's what 2013 has been like. A weird trick on the mind. The last few months I feel like I just haven't had the time to blog like normal, nor keep up with reading everyone's blogs. No . . . wait. That actually happened. I strive to keep up in 2014. At least better than I have as of late.

Boyfriend is currently snoozing on the couch after a long day at work, while I'm sitting in my recliner after a long day at work. Our dinner was random leftovers, and I'm wanting cookies for dessert - but I already ate them all. Must mean I need to make more. That's what I'm going with.

So, here's my 2013 Year End schpeel. Let's see what happened:

The start of 2013 found me working for a veterinary office that turned out to be a horrible fit for me. I was so unhappy it actually physically affected me. I literally felt ill driving to work every day. I had also signed up for online dating again (at my mother's urging to "give it another whirl"). I met a guy named Dan and it turned out he had zero personality. I gave him 3 dates to make sure, but nothing improved and it just fizzled on it's own.

My birthday (I turned the big 33) started the Pam Tillis song All the Good Ones Are Gone playing over and over in my head. I emailed a guy from the dating site and we made it to the phone call stage and he neglected to call on his turn. After a week I emailed him to politely let him have it and of course, never heard from him again.

March brought on a whirlwind of changes. I "separated" from the vet's office that I was so miserable at. The Office Manager, or The World's Biggest Bitch as I like to call her, fired me, stating that she had "taken too many chances with me". No matter what I did, I could not please her because she thought I was something I wasn't. She thought I was a licensed tech, which I told her I wasn't before she hired me. I couldn't answer the phone correctly.  My personality was all wrong. Everything I said was inaccurate. Nothing was ever clean enough when I did it. No matter what it was, I did it wrong. I'm surprised she didn't tell me I did the whole breathing thing wrong. Right about the time I breathed a huge sigh of relief and left that hell hole, I "met" another guy online. We quickly began texting during all waking hours and even into the sleeping ones. We texted all. the. time. Mom started playing "Where's Waldo?" as he was truck driving and we never knew where I'd find him the next day. I also began the extremely fun step of getting unemployment and the incompetence of it all.

On April 1st, I met Boyfriend for the very first time. We met up for lunch and wound up spending the entire afternoon together (which I've never done with anyone I ever met from online dating). I finally had to break the day off as I had to cook dinner for Mom's birthday. That weekend he was back in town for what ended up being 9 days and we were totally inseparable. He went back on the road for a week and quit his job. He hasn't left my side since. (insert adorable "awwwww" here)  I also found part-time work thanks to a cousin who ran a wedding rental business. He also gave Boyfriend a job for the summer, too.

May brought about my parents 5 week road trip to baseball parks and national parks. I managed to not burn the house down and Boyfriend and I got a taste of actually living together. 

June brought my parents back home (finally!). I continued the job hunt for full or part-time work to no avail. Job interviews led to rejection letters. Boyfriend and I killed time and relaxed on the lake(s) on the boat, also escaping some of the horrid Redding heat. Oh and the douche-nozzle that neglected to call me when it was his turn? Guess who emailed me with this, "how's miss sexy j.day?" Are you effing kidding me? I emailed him back and told him I had met an awesome guy. Which was totally true.

In July, Boyfriend applied to the City of Redding and the City of Sacramento for water jobs. My hunt still continued. Breakdowns from the stress of it all were on a fairly regular basis. Regular lake visits were made. I took Boyfriend on a road-trip to Burney Falls and the Subway Caves, showing him where I grew up. I also took a trip to the Bay Area to see BFF and attend her county fair and a concert. Boyfriend and I also attended the wedding of the cousin who gave us part-time jobs.

In August, Boyfriend had three interviews and wound up getting rejected from all three. I started my weekend Pet Nutritional Consultant job and I had an interview at the end of the month which resulted in a full-time job - with benefits. Celebrating in the kitchen followed. We found out that Mom's dad, Papa D, was not expected to live much longer. The medicine that had helped to keep his heart pumping had done a number on his kidneys and there was nothing else the doctors could do for him. Mom and Dad went up to say good-bye. K told me that she didn't want my last memories of him to be like this.

On September 16th, I started my new job. On September 17th, Papa D passed away. Boyfriend started looking for places for us to move to. The Clover Fire decimated 8,000 acres; the evacuation line about a mile from my parents house. I met "Bubbles."

In October, we finally got to say good-bye to Papa D by spreading his ashes on his ranch. His beautiful, beloved ranch. We finally got to meet one of his sons from his first marriage and his family. I met cousins I didn't know I had. We had a lovely time sharing stories - surely making Papa D smile. I am now Facebook friends with my new cousins and aunt. Boyfriend found places for us to look at. One of my good friends was also married this month. The weather forecast for weeks leading up to it called for no rain whatsoever. Mother Nature decided to throw out a random and powerful downpour for about twenty minutes.

November 1st, Boyfriend and I moved into a 3 bedroom house on a few acres. He bought chickens on the first day. While putting  the water bill in his name, he was told of an open position for a water district west of Redding. He looked into it and is now their Operations Manager. We hosted Thanksgiving for both our families. We also discovered that our neighbor across the street is an asshat who rewards bad behavior in his dogs. And Mom and I bought new phones - spending three hours at the Verizon kiosk in the mall. Boyfriend and I went to see Catching Fire - awesomely done by the way.

December has brought some ups and downs - details will have to come later. But they include a restraining order, court, slashed work hours, increased work hours, learning how not to call in sick, having a moment of knowing how an extreme couponer feels at the register, Boyfriend hiring a guy at his job who happens to the husband of an ex-girlfriend and of course, the trials and tribulations of having Boyfriend's grandmother as a room-mate, and of course the holidays.

Wednesday Hodgepodge

1. It's National Bike Week...do you own a bicycle? When did you last ride a bike?

I don't own a bike anymore. I got rid of it by the time I graduated college. So, that would also be the last time I rode a bike, was in Chico. I stopped because even though Chico is a "bike friendly" town, due to the amount of college kids, because the "bike friendly" drivers don't pay any freaking attention to the bicyclists. A roommate of mine nearly got run over once.
 

2. What's something you learned in school that wasn't part of the curriculum?

How to french braid my own hair. In chemistry class, of all places.
 

3. What's a food you've never tried, but want to try? What's a food you've tried and will never try again?

I'm not sure about the first part of the question. But I tried sushi once and I will never do that shit again. OMG. Worst. Food. EVER. The rest of my Japanese meal wasn't very good either, but the sushi was the most memorable part of it.
 

4. Have you been more demanding on yourself lately or less? Why? Do you think that's a good trend?

Both . . . although I'm not sure that's possible. I'm trying to find full-time work, spending an inordinate amount of time with Boyfriend, and working part-time. I'm pressuring myself to find full-time work because I despise dealing with unemployment because, I'm sorry, they are a bunch of assholes. Rude ones.
 

5. Who is your favorite book, movie, or TV show villain?

Delores Umbridge. hehe.
 

6. How concerned are you about identity theft?

Pretty concerned. Especially since my bank account was hacked online a few years ago.
 

7. I saw this last question on Dawn's blog a couple of week's ago and asked if I could share. Everybody hop over and say hi, but first answer this...would you rather have an ordinary home in an extraordinary place or an extraordinary home in an ordinary place?

Hmmm. Well, I'd probably go with ordinary house in extraordinary place. Because an extraordinary home will probably require too much cleaning. And an extraordinary place is wherever you want it to be, whether it's on the beach, in the mountains, in the 'burbs, on acreage, etc. 

8.  Insert your own random thought here. 

The last two weeks have been a whole new experience for me. I'm house-sitting for my parents while they are on a 5 week vacation, and Boyfriend has been spending a lot of time at the house with me. He's taken up the all the mowing and seeing to Mom's garden. He even power-washed the garage floor. He spoils our hound dog, Charley, more than we do. He cooks dinner - never worry, I help by making awesome salads (his words), garlic bread, cleaning the corn, you know, simple things. Here's my "new" experience: I've never lived with someone, and the last two weeks have been about as close as I've been to that. We went grocery shopping together the other day; I've never grocery shopped with a boyfriend before. (Seriously.) And he and I even talked about this tonight (Tuesday) . . . he has just settled in with my family, he likes them and they like him, and loves my parents property . . . and he told me he's never "settled into a family" or relationship quite this way and or fast. I have never had any of that, so, it's all new to me. I'm liking it, but it does take some getting used to. lol 

Hodgepodge (and I met someone)

1. April showers bring May flowers...what have you been showered with this month?

I was showered with a beautiful bouquet of red roses and a steak dinner complete with baked potato, beans, salad, and garlic bread - by candlelight - on Monday night. I knew about the dinner, but I had no idea about the flowers. Let me just say, I have not had a guy buy me flowers (besides Dad) in close to 10 years. I think the guy thought I was over-reacting a little, but really, I wasn't. They were "just because" and that meant more to me than anything. I guess I could also say, I've been showered with affection by a really awesome person this month and I'm just so happy.
 

2. What is the nature of compassion?  Is it learned or innate?  Can compassion be learned?  If you're a parent is this something you've purposely sought to instill in your children, and if so how?

Whenever I become a parent, I will definitely instill compassion into my kids. I think it's very important. I think in some cases, it can be learned, but I think it's better if it's been instilled into you from an early age.
 

3. Do you prefer to watch romantic comedy or romantic drama...or are you rolling your eyes saying bring on the action flicks?

I love movies from every genre, as long as it's good anyway. I love a funny, witty romantic comedy, but I also enjoy a good romantic drama sometimes, too.
 

4.  It's April which means baseball season is officially upon us here in the US of A. Humphrey Bogart is quoted as saying "A hot dog at the ballgame beats roast beef at the Ritz." Agree or Disagree?

Baseball!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Can you tell I love me some baseball?? lol A Giant Dog is way better than anything at the Ritz because it's at the ball game. Seriously. Oh and AT&T Park makes a mean set of garlic fries. YUM!!
 

5. What's something in your community or city that needs fixing or improving?

Hmmm. Well our city hasn't been able to afford our Civic Center for awhile, so they allowed some big church in town to take it over. I recently found out the church totally sucked at managing it, so they got kicked out and now someone else is managing it. We're not a major city, but it's still a very important venue and if we could get more concerts and shows there, it would be helpful.
 

6. Share a song you enjoy that mentions flowers or a specific flower in its title.

Um. The only song that comes to mind is "Pickin' Wildflowers" . . . can't even remember who sings it, but it's a country song.

7. April 22nd is Earth Day...do you believe there's life on other planets?  That wasn't the question you were expecting was it?

Yep. I do. If the universe is truly as vast as we believe it is, there has to be other life out there. No offense, but that would be an awful amount of wasted space if there wasn't life on other planets.
 

8.  Insert your own random thought here.

Obviously you can tell by my answer to the first question that I've met someone. Some of my regular readers know that I've been searching for a long time, and some even had their own ideas of who I'd meet and how they'd sweep me off my feet - which made me love them even more! lol Anyway, I have met someone, and that's where a lot of my time has been going lately (that and job hunting!). I'll write more later, but I've been wanting to share it for awhile. :o)

April Blogging Challenge: K is for Kiss

In yesterday's post, I mentioned a bad kisser. I think I shall elaborate, as it is quite funny. It does, however, still make me shudder. However, to get to the kiss, I shall have to relate a bit more about the guy. It might help explain the bad kissing . . . at least, that's what I keep telling myself.

His name was Rob, and we went out on probably 4 or 5 dates tops. Including our first meeting. We met via an internet dating site. I got a few yellow flags from the minute I met him, but the last day we hung out, all I got were red flags.

The first flag was that he had lied about his height. Now, I don't mind if a guy is short, but to lie about your height says that you're embarrassed by it. Another day, I think it was our third meet-up, he started making plans for things for us to that summer - cave spelunking, romantic weekends at Tahoe. On our third date. I'd also like to point out that summer was technically still two months away. I'm not commitment phobic, but he made me feel that way.

The last weekend we hung out, I had pretty much decided we weren't a good match. Unfortunately, I have never actually broken up with someone, so he was to be the first. It was eating me up inside. We went to lunch and the zoo. During lunch he told me that he felt we were kindred spirits and that he felt that he could tell me his deepest darkest secret. My imagination thought the worst: a wife and 3 kids in LA; convicted felon. And then he continued with, "I don't like cheese." (insert crickets here)

Once done with lunch, I tried to beat him to the car, as I wanted to test something. He always opened doors for me. Now, normally I love when guys open doors for me. But if I get to it first, I don't mind opening it myself. This goes for car doors, too. I get to my door and open it and he literally rips the door out of my hand so that he can open the damn door for me. Broke a nail in the process. He then said, "I know you can do it yourself, but my mother taught me to always open a door for a pretty lady." (while I agree . . . there's no reason to rip it from my hands you idiot). At the zoo, he embarrassed me with his horrendous parallel parking abilities. I had to actually back him in with hand signals. I offered to do it myself, because I'm pretty sure I could have done it easily, and I despise parallel parking.

While inside the zoo, he held my hand - backwards. Now, I know what you're thinking - how do you hold hands backward?? Easy. Just think how you usually hold hands with a boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse. Whose hand is in front, and whose hand is in back? Typically it's the "protector's" hand that is in the front, which would typically be the man, or if with kids it's the parent. He took my hand and my hand was kept in front, telling me that I apparently wore the pants in that relationship. Aaaalllrriiiigghty then. He also never moved to get out of anyone's way, always seeming to make people walk around us. I couldn't shake the guy.

Heading back to the car, he started asking me about past relationships, like my longest (which was about 4.5 years), and then he tells me he never had a relationship over six months. (red flag!) He asked me if I'd met anyone else off this particular site, and I answered with yes. He actually asked me if I was still seeing that guy. (um, no, that ended a couple months prior). He then tells me about his previous girlfriend who hadn't treated him well, and all this stuff. I felt bad about it, but really uncomfortable as I was wanting to end it all right then.

Back at his place (which was where my car was), I had been trying to think of a way to get away from him without the pending kiss I had a gut feeling was coming. We'd had a few pecks, but no "real" kiss. I had a sinking feeling in my gut that it was going to happen and I wanted to avoid it because my gut told me it wouldn't be good. He pulled me in for a hug, and while I tried to move my face away, I apparently wasn't fast enough. And sure enough, he planted those lips on mine, and I was actually physically repulsed.

If any of you have ever seen the Sex and the City episode where Charlotte dates a bad kisser - that's the only thing I can think to equate it to. Although, he might have been better.

I felt as if the entire lower half of my face was gone. From nose to chin. Felt as if it had been sucked into a vortex. And this little tongue kept trying to meet my tonsils. He pulled away a moment later, and actually apologized if he was a bad kisser, that his previous girlfriend didn't let him practice much. (internal scream of terror) I couldn't bear to tell him that I was gagging on the inside, but said something akin to, "Oh no, it's okay . . . I really should get -" And he cut me off with another kiss. I had to endure it twice. I finally managed to pull away from him, and managed to leave the house. Ever the gentleman (and I do believe this was the only time I've ever hated a guy for being a gentleman) he walked me to my car.

Where he promptly assaulted my mouth for a third time. And no, it never got better. Evidently my avoidance skills were on vacation that day.

I drove around the block and parked to see if I could find something to wipe off my face. He'd slobbered all over it. I mean, I know that kissing can get a bet wet and sloppy, but that was freaking ridiculous. I actually pulled into a McDonald's to eat something that would get me to put something in my mouth that didn't make me gag; it was probably fries or a McFlurry or something.

I know everyone has different thoughts on when a first kiss should happen and whether or not tongue should be involved. It is my opinion that there really shouldn't be much if any on the first kiss. I was disgusted with this guy's blatant attempt at tonsil hockey - of which he was really bad at. I mean, it was like his lips didn't move, he just attempted to suck the air out of my lungs, and only his tongue moved.

(shudders uncontrollably)

Okay, now I need to go brush my teeth and watch a movie with Hugh Jackman or Gerard Butler . . .

Just in case you were wondering . . . when I typed in Google, "Bad Kisser Images" the first thing to pop up was a picture of Robert Pattinson.

Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!

April Blogging Challenge: J is for Jaded

This is how the world of dating can make you feel after awhile. Especially if you have a fun of odd luck dates. You don't even have to have dated a douche to feel jaded. Just having enough dates or guys in a row that seem to fit the same profile . . . none of it really suiting you at all.

During my time in Sacramento, I dabbled in the internet dating world. It totally freaked me out in the beginning, and by the time I left Sacramento, I felt kinda let down. I'm not saying those sites don't work, because they obviously do. For those that aren't me.

I met several nice guys via internet dating, but for one reason or another, they totally weren't my type. Well. One was, but for whatever reason, he wasn't into me. He's now with someone else and is happy, and I'm happy for him. No, really, I am.

I'm not sure what I said in my profile that would make these sites match me with certain people, but it did. But because I lived in a city, that's what it matched me up with. City folk. People who wanted to live in lofts or spendy condos, or just maybe the suburbs. Guys who had 9-5 jobs and either did nothing afterwards, or were into sky diving (I'm not sure you could pay me to do that shit) on weekends.

I gave most guys the benefit of the doubt. Figured the picture didn't really do them justice. Figured they wouldn't mind meeting a girl who worked graveyard. Figured I was destined to wind up with a computer nerd. Not that I'm dissing computer guys, but the ones I met weren't really all that special.

I met short guys who blatantly lied about their height - as if I wouldn't figure that shit out the second I met them. I met guys who mentioned they were currently living with their parents while they were looking to buy a house - only to find out that they'd been living with said parents and looking for said house to buy for over two years, and only to find out that they had never moved out and they were 30 years old. (Red flag, red flag!)  I met guys who parallel parked worse than me, and embarrassed me in public with their horrid parking abilities. I met guys who were actually kinda cool - only to find out that the literally could barely find 5 minutes for me and made me feel like I was begging (Not cool dude, not cool). I met guys who were the absolute worst kissers on the planet, and made me fearful of kissing ever again. I met guys who had never had a relationship over 6 months, and they were well into their 30s. (Perhaps it's the bad kissing?)

After all this and more (yes, I'm serious), dating is not exactly the fun Hollywood makes it out to be. They make it comical, sexy, and fun. Then you have the fairy tales, that make every young girl dream of her Prince Charming sweeping her off her feet. In reality it's probably some douche who is knocking you off your feet to steal your cab. It's awkwardness, being ignored out of existence after several dates, making you think you did something wrong. It makes you feel bad for actually having morals and expectations. It makes you feel bad for having standards.

There are past relationships that still haunt me. That make me question people when I probably don't need to. To not trust when it's really okay to do so. That prevent me from being as open as I could be with someone because I got laughed at by others for revealing myself. That make me fear I won't find someone who will have patience with me while I work out my own neurotic issues. That make me fear I won't find someone who won't hold me to a different standard than they hold themselves.

As sick as I am of trying to find my Mr. Right, I don't want to stop. I shall just find more Willoughby's before I find my Darcy.

Bulls and Dating

At dinner this evening, my grandfather mentioned to me that his wife's parents would like me and him to attend church with them. He saw the look I gave him, as we've previously discussed the option of attending church. "Well, there's a guy . . . "

All I could do was laugh.

Two nights previous, my grandparents had attempted to make a list of eligible bachelors that they would give their stamp of approval to. Long story short, it's a short list. I'm not even sure there are five names on it.

Now, I moved here knowing that Sticksville is not the hopping dating scene. It wasn't like I was having much better luck in a city of over 400,000 people. But then, I don't really care for bar scenes. Considering I'm not much of a drinker, bars just don't appeal to me. I'm not very forward when it comes to dating, either. I'm quite shy. Plus, if a guy comes up to me, I assume he's drunk. Here's why:

Only one guy that has ever asked for my number or hit on me was stone cold sober. That I know of. I have been known to be a wee bit dense sometimes and totally miss that some random guy is making eyes at me, or even attempting to flirt with me. While I don't consider myself a dog, I know I'm not gorgeous. I consider myself somewhere in the pretty category. I'm not including what I look like when I first wake up, because well . . . that would not help my cause at all.

Pretty much every guy who has come up to me on their own volition (minus Subway Guy), was drunk. Or some variation of drunk. The first time was in college, at the Brickworks. A couple guys asked me to dance, but I was loyal to my long distance boyfriend at the time, and didn't dance with any guys. One of these guys was quite drunk, and I finally had to send him on his way because he was starting to freak me the fuck out. More recently, I was hanging out with some friends in a bar in Cottonwood (I have a friend who is a bartender there), and one of my good friends basically threw my ass under the bus and I had no idea. Needless to say, two guys who had had several beers hit on me in a matter of minutes. I knew it was going to happen the second I walked in the door, by the way they looked at me. You know that sinking feeling in your gut? Yeah, I had that.

One guy used some lame ass line about his lonely dog. And was old enough to be my dad. I do have an age limit guys. The second guy kept telling my friend how beautiful I was . . . I was sitting right next to him. Then he finally turned to me and told me how was he was Army and I'm sure felt that I was supposed to be impressed. I thanked him for serving our country, but I had just gotten out of a relationship with a Marine, and I really didn't want to get into another relationship with a (drunk) military guy. I even put my giant ring on my left hand to maybe hint to him that I wasn't available. Nope. Didn't help. Plus my friend wasn't fully helping my cause either. In the end, it wasn't me that got rid of him, it was another gal we were hanging out with, who by chance is ex-Marine. Apparently all she had to do was call him a "ditch digger" and after exchanging a few words, he finally left. When he was leaving the bar, he "offered" me another chance . . . which I politely declined. And drowned myself in Diet Coke.

The sober guys that I dated were set-ups. Either blind dates or via my attempt at Internet dating. And in some cases, them being sober might be one of the few nice things I could say.

So, when I moved to Sticksville, I knew that my meeting someone would probably have to be through my grandparents and their connections. When I went on the paper delivery routes with my grandfather, he (a few times) would mention (not so slyly) that I was single and for whomever he was talking to to keep their eyes open for a nice eligible bachelor. Only slightly embarrassed was I. But I took it all in stride.

My grandparents have mentioned the church thing a couple times in my presence. Neither of them attend church, but they do know the pastor. They've told me that it's mostly an older congregation, but I could meet someone that knows someone who might be single and you know, set me up. I've been joking with them that they are now trying to pimp me out.

I'm not fully against attending church. I've actually never attended church. I really don't want to start a religion issue on my blog, but I am allowed to post my feelings. I'm not necessarily a religious person. I don't like the guilt that most religions put on their congregations. In my mind, you simply cannot live without sinning. And the fact that I have to confess my sins to a priest, or pray to God for forgiveness is slightly disturbing to me. I try to be a good person - I respect my elders and my peers; I give to charities however I can, when I can; I don't break laws (okay, I do go over the speed limit . . .); and I believe in the Golden Rule. I cuss, I occasionally take the Lord's name in vain, I do drink alcohol sometimes, and I have spoken ill of others.

I do not appreciate having religion sold or forced onto me, however. I don't believe I will go to Hell for not attending church. If there is a God, I cannot accept that He is that fucking picky.

So the idea of me attending church, even once or twice, actually scares me. I'm afraid of religion being pushed onto me, even when assured no one will do so. And it's slightly weird, knowing that you're invited partly to introduce you to folks who might be able to set you up with some guy they know.

And here's something else my grandfather said to me today, while I was in the round-feeder (which I gracefully fell into on my ass this morning because I lost my footing with muddy boots. Thank God there was hay to break my fall) cutting twine off bales of hay for the small herd of young bulls: "These bulls sure are fascinated by you! Have you ever received so much male attention?"

Sadly, my answer was to laugh and reply "No, I haven't!"

So, right now, the only males that I'm aware of that are, in fact, "fascinated" by me, are cows.

At least they're cute. Right?

Strange the impact a few words can have on you

A few hours after posting about how I was loving yesterday - the clouds, the rain, watching Psych and laughing for hours, and cuddling with my cat - it took a turn. An odd turn, to say the least. Slightly upsetting. I called my BFF and cried on the phone with her and felt better in the end making each other laugh. I also started chatting with my cousin, and she helped me feel better, too. All the while, I was getting play-by-play text messages from my mom regarding the Phillies/Giants game. BTW, the Giants better pick up their game and kick some Philly ass. (no offense to those Philly fans out there!)

In a previous post, from about a month ago, I spoke about WB. I had been trying not to chat with him much on Facebook recently, considering I realize how not into me he is. Except for last night, I was in a good mood, and felt like chatting with someone, so I started chatting with him. We talked about work, my internal struggle regarding possible opportunities, and whatnot. He tells me that he unfortunately broke a girl's heart recently, but she wasn't right for him and he didn't want it to drag on. I know for a fact he wasn't speaking about me to me, considering we've never had that discussion. Then he says he's thinking of doing something crazy: proposing. Talk about your 180.

Now, oddly enough, while this proposal idea isn't what bothered me, it did shock me. Rationally, I knew he wasn't talking about me. Turns out he wants to propose to a woman whom he's dated off and on for nearly 20 years. I told him to go for it; that if in his heart he felt it was right, that he should do it. He thanked me my good advice and answered my questions about how and where, and told me that he'd tell me the results. I remember him mentioning he was going to bring her roses, as apparently he's the only man to have ever bought her roses. I thought about that for a second, and had a very small epiphany and told him that only one boyfriend had ever bought me roses - my very first boyfriend, ages ago.

WB then pulls another 180 and says this to me:

"You are an attractive gal. I especially thought that the last time you stopped by when my friend and I were working on his truck."

Several things happened at once. I felt a chill, a shudder . . . and then I started bawling. I cannot tell you how long it's been since someone has said that to me. Someone not being a family member or best friend. It was a double-edged sword that ran me through. I know he meant it as a compliment, and that's how I took it and understood it. And in a sense, I guess it told me that, at least for that fleeting moment when we 'dated' this spring, he had been attracted to me. At least for a moment. Although, I'm still not sure how take him saying it to me . . . between the conversations I had with my cousin and BFF, and me not being able to wrap my mind around it, all the while crying over it. I have a feeling though, that he had no idea what kind of an impact that would have on me.

I wasn't lying when I told him I hope it all works out for him. I want him to be happy. But, it really sucks when the so-called "man of your dreams" tells you you're attractive whilst telling you he's planning on proposing to someone else.

(sigh) Boys. (shakes head)

Unrequited . . . feelings

Today I watched one of my all time favorite movies. On VHS. Yes, I still have a VCR. I know you're giggling . . . you can stop now. I do own a DVD player - two in fact. The regular one I've had for nearly 10 years and the Blu-Ray I got this year. But I still own my first VCR, because it still works, and I still have movies on VHS because I never went and bought them on DVD. It's a rare day that I watch one of those movies . . . I mean, I actually have to check to see if I rewound it the last time I watched it.

The movie is "While You Were Sleeping" with Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman. I hadn't seen it in a few years, but I found that I still know every single word of that movie by heart. But there is one part of that movie that resonates with me, because, well, the description fits me. Good, bad, or indifferent, it does. If you haven't seen the movie, here's the premise: Sandra Bullock plays Lucy, a girl who is all alone. She saves a guy's life at Christmas and the family believes she's their sons fiancee, even though she's never actually met him. I found a clip on YouTube, that has the scene to which I'm saying that fits me. Unfortunately it's like a 10 minute clip, but if you go to 7:00 it cues it up nicely - "Lucy" is visiting her "fiancee" in the hospital:

The part where she starts her little monologue about where she had "planned" to be versus where she is now. How she states "that I have a cat . . . I have an apartment . . . sole possession of the remote control . . ." That is me. I'm not where I thought I'd be. Growing up, girls like to plan things out - what a good age to get married might be, and if that happens, the age they'd like to start having kids. Owning their first home. I'm still not there. All the ages that I thought things would be perfect have come and gone. And I'm left with "I have a cat, an apartment, and sole possession of the remote control." Now, I'm not alone in the world; I have my friends and family, without whom I'm probably be completely lost.

I thought about this movie today on my way home from my volunteer gig at the horse place today, being that I made a pit stop before I got home. This pit stop made me think of this moment in this movie (minus the bit about someone being in a coma). I mentioned in an earlier blog about a guy that I went to dinner with a few months ago. From this point, he shall be called WB - only a total of four people in this world know what that those initials actually stand for, and it's not his name. I stopped by his house today to drop off some beer that I had originally purchased for him to have with dinner I made one night. He's never been back to my place (and no, it wasn't my food! lol), and I don't drink beer. I'm not much of a drinker to begin with, and I've never acquired the taste for beer. So, a few months after not seeing him anymore, I finally emailed him and asked him if I could stop by to drop it off for him. I felt a little silly (okay, a lot silly) for driving thirty minutes out of my way to drop off four bottles of beer. But he said I was welcome to stop by, so I decided to just do it. Now, he and I have still talked on Facebook once in awhile, but we don't chat/talk/text like we did this last spring - which seemed like tons. I got to his house and meets me outside with his dogs gives me a hug and asks how I've been. He puts the beer in his fridge and asks me to come see the work he's been doing on his and his friends trucks (apparently his friend was there to learn from WB). He's restoring a 1950 dump truck for himself, and he's helping a friend work on a 1950 flatbed truck. Both trucks looked awesome, by the way. I chatted with WB and his friend for a good twenty minutes or so, with the conversation going smoothly. I threw the ball for his dog a few times. Shared a few laughs. When the conversation started to lag, I finally said that I should let them get back to work on their toys. WB walked me out, and I teased him about the way his house looks (he has about a dozen projects going, so it looks like a construction zone), and we shared some more laughs out front. And we hugged goodbye.

The thing about WB is that, from what I've seen and heard, he is what I've been looking for in a man. The only fault I can find with him is his apparent lack of romantic interest in me. He prefers country life to city life, his family owns a ranch, he has a college degree, a good stable job that he enjoys, and he's a perfect gentleman. He offered to kick my ex's ass for breaking my heart, having never met me nor my ex (who was a marine and could probably kill anyone with his pinkie finger). He's restoring the dump truck alone - that takes a lot of talent in my book. He has a house, dogs, has a great sense of humor, has a laid-back personality, is just the right height, has blue eyes that I could dive into, and to round out the whole shebang, he's handsome. I rarely say a guy my age is handsome, but he is. He's cute, good looking, but there's something about him that makes him handsome. And in some ways, I guess is the guy that most resembles my dad, and my dad is one of two men I compare all boyfriends (or potentials) to. Because I want a man like my dad.

For what seems like an eternity in my mind, I've thought him perfect for me. But I realize I can't make him like me. I can't continue to beat my head against a wall to see what else I can do for him to realize "that if he only knew me, he would (of course, dump the perfect model they were with) and realize that you were the person that they wanted to just grow old with". But, though I know I can't make WB do anything (Read: fall in love with me), and I can't stop thinking about him. It's like he's gotten under my skin. Why am I drawn to a person who doesn't like me romantically for whatever his reason(s)? I drove all the way out to his house to deliver four bottles of beer that reminded me of him every time I opened the fridge. I wanted to see him again, as three months of not seeing him was aggravating. I left his house hating him for being so nice and wonderful and handsome and funny. But I felt welcome, even though I felt silly for being there. He never made me feel like he didn't want to see me or talk to me, or introduce me to his friend. He never forced me out of his house to get back to work on the truck.

I remember the day I realized just how "not interested" in me he was. I was visiting my parents for the weekend, and I came out of the computer room and sat with my mom on the couch in the back of the great room. I laid down and put my head her lap, and cried. We talked about it. Mostly her talking and me whimpering, because as we all very well know - mom's are psychic like that. It's scary. I felt silly - 30 years old and crying over a boy with my head in my mother's lap.

And this would just be another reason why I hate boys (yet not really) and dating. Oh the vicious cycle.

The things people say . . . to you.

Did you ever notice that people can have a very real effect on you? Good, bad, ugly - it doesn't really matter, they all get in your head. Most people I know (whether it's family, friends, etc.), tell me I'm a nice person, a good person. I have my moments like everyone else. I have moments that I'm selfish in my decision. There are things about me that others don't understand, and for the life of me I have the hardest time defending those things. I have opinions, some very strong, some are just an "in general" sort of thing. So, why is it, that when someone says something negative about you to you that your mind feasts on it? It kind of becomes the eternal "chewing the cud" that all ruminants do. Your mind won't stop feasting on it, it just keeps regurgitating it so it can chew on it some more until you don't even recognize it anymore.

For some reason, the negative seems easier to believe. I know, that in general, I am a good person. I would do anything for my family and friends. I volunteer. I work hard at my job. I also know, that in general, I'm human and I have many faults. Some more prominent than others. I live with my faults and I accept them. We all have them. Our families still love us, even though we're not perfect. Our best friends still choose to spend time with us - in public even. They choose to listen to our complaints, our worries, our fears, our everything. And we in turn listen to theirs. It's a game of give and take.

So, when someone who the definition of "jerk" says something or does something negative to you, why is it so easy to believe that it's true? That you really are as horrible as they make it seem? How can they possibly effect you so much that it can take years to get over? When in reality, you should say to yourself, "That person's an ass. They're wrong about me. I'm not as horrible as they make me seem." Should. Operative word. What does happen in reality is more like this, "Wow. I had no idea I was that wrong. I really am a bad person. I should just sit here in my wrongness and be wrong." And you keep repeating it until it's ingrained in your mind and it won't leave.

My best friend and I had similar experiences, with very different people. And it's taken years to figure things out. Lots of talking things over, trying to reason why someone would say such things to us. My experience was with the asshole of an ex-boyfriend I dated my last year of college. I remember things started out okay, he was a nice guy. And somehow things started to change. One day he'd come home in a bad mood because he had a lousy day. That's fine, it happens to us all. Over time, he'd treat me bad, and somehow it evolved into being my fault. It was my fault he couldn't sleep, because I didn't like sleeping with the TV on. It was my fault he couldn't fix the computer because I was watching him. It was my fault I found a job out of town even though he encouraged me and let me use his computer for job hunting. My favorite thing he ever said to me that stuck with me was this: "Why would I go to an amusement park with just you? You'd be boring there." This happened after I found out I got a job in Sacramento, and was moving in two weeks. I wanted us to spend some time, just us, before I moved. I had bought the tickets and everything. I wound up going with my mom, and we had a blast. And you know what? I still dated the guy another six months.

When the relationship ended, I cried. A lot. After awhile though, I realized I wasn't crying because I missed him. I was crying because I hated him. With every fiber of my being. I was so angry with him for treating me like he did. But I was angrier with myself. That I allowed him to treat me like that for so long. But the things he said to me, like "You'd be boring at an amusement park" stuck with me. They gnawed at me. Oddly enough, all this comes from me having a dream two weeks ago, and it dawned on me yesterday while putting on my make-up, what that dream was really about.

I was consciously aware that I was dreaming. I remember the feeling I had during the dream. I remember questioning everything in the dream while I was dreaming. None of it made any sense whatsoever. In my dream, I was out on date with a guy that I went out with on a few dates this spring. This person in reality is a very nice person, and in his presence I never once felt the way I did in this one dream. I always felt good and happy around him. In this dream I felt meek and wrong. He was constantly exasperated with me, being around me, and having to deal with me. In the dream we went to a total of three restaurants, each one had massive issues. One he just didn't want to eat at, another was about as loud as a circus, and the next one it took forever to get a table. But everywhere we went, I couldn't really speak up, I knew something was wrong and it was my fault. At the last restaurant, we finally get a table, but it's dirty - dishes with food still on them, glasses with drinks still in them litter the table. I finally catch up and start questioning why we have to sit at a dirty table when there are dozens of perfectly clean tables around us. This person, his wonderful face that, in reality, often times has a smile on it, began to lecture me in my dream about my desire to eat at a clean table. The alarm goes off.

Putting on my make-up is a mundane task every day. I barely think about it as I do it anymore. I had put the dream out of my mind for days, but it hit me while putting on my make-up. The guy that had been so horrible to me wasn't really the nice guy that took me to dinner a few times in the spring. It was Joe Schmoe wearing this guys face. Joe Schmoe had become the proverbial snake in the grass. I was . . . I am that afraid of even a wonderful person like Mr. Nice Guy would turn into Joe Schmoe. After all these years. People seek therapy for this shit.

I have dated a handful of guys since Joe Schmoe, and all of them have been very nice guys. The relationships didn't work out because they didn't. Not because the guy was an asshole, but because we really weren't that into each other. Or distance. Or whatever.

And whatever my faults, I am not boring at an amusement park dammit.

Um, awkward . . .

As I've mentioned before, I'm attempting the world of online dating. Yes, "peek-a-boo" still happens. Often. More often than I wish. There are so many times I want to write on my profile something akin to "Don't just view me, email me!" But I don't want to seem "pushy". Or any other choice words for that matter.

However, there is something far more awkward than someone playing "peek-a-boo" for a month before they decide to contact you or reply to you. I received an email today that said I had new matches. So I went to check them out. Several were too far away, but you have to view the profile in order to close the match, so if they're absolutely adorable or mouth-watering hot and they live 6 hours away from you . . . dude, it sucks. I was about half way through the set I received today, and clicked on a guy from Chico. His profile picture was, first off, a horrible decision. It wasn't a good picture as I had a hard time telling him from his dog. The second picture wasn't much better, although there wasn't a dog in the picture. Third picture literally made my jaw drop. I think I also stopped breathing for a full minute. So, here's where awkward comes in.

I know the guy. I used to work with him while I lived in Chico. He was a nice guy, never had issues with him. My last year there, I hung out with him a lot since he hung out with the guy I dated. At the time, he had a very nice girlfriend that he lived with. Obviously that didn't pan out.

How can this get more awkward?

My asshole of an ex-boyfriend is sitting right next to him in the picture. Not joking.

As soon as the picture came up, all I saw was the jerk. I stammered (once I could catch my breath), "He knows Joe Schmoe???" (totally fake name btw). I looked at the caption which read, "I'm on the left". I looked left. And I recognized the guy who belonged to the profile.

Needless to say, I closed the match.

Peek-a-boo, I see you!

Like so many others out there these days, I have been attempting the world of online dating. With my hours it's hard for me to meet just about anyone, except maybe the checkout person at a store. Or my co-workers. It's sad, really. Graveyard shift can really hamper one's ability to meet people. Shyness can also be a factor. A large one.

I've tried Match.com, Chemistry.com, and eHarmony, all with minimal results. Actually, the first two with no results whatsoever. I had nothing happen on Chemistry, and on Match I had a couple guys contact me - a text message in a e-mail. Seriously folks, if you want to try to impress anyone, don't send an "e-mail" with a message akin to "Hey, ur a qt". That will get you pretty much nowhere. I've met a few people from the last option, eHarmony. They've all been very nice guys, just didn't work out for whatever reasons. Most were amicable, neither really that upset with the other. Only one of those guys did I actually shed tears over.

I'm currently trying again for a few months, after a few months hiatus. And I have one major beef with those guys who try the online dating scene. Pretty much every single online dating service has an option that allows you to see who has viewed your profile. This is pretty handy for the new game of "peek-a-boo" people seem to want to play. I send a "communication" to someone, and then for several days or even weeks, I get to play "peek-a-boo" with them. Sometimes they respond to the "communication", sometimes they don't. But I can tell that every few days they're viewing my profile, but I don't hear from them. This round of online dating I've noticed this trend has become common practice.

Seriously guys, grow a pair and either close the match or respond. You're not winning any brownie points by viewing me several times a week. You could, however, earn brownie points for actually communicating with me. If we meet and it doesn't work out, bummer, but that's okay. It's not as big of a deal as one might think. And please, don't think I don't know what the other option is: I'm a back-up if the dozen women you are communicating with don't work out. Just remember one thing, if you can see me then that means . . .

Dude, I can see you, too.

So quit acting like a toddler and quit playing "peek-a-boo".

So there are still some honest guys out there? Yay!

I wasn't going to write about this . . . thus my earlier rant on bad drivers in round-a-bouts, however, it was on my mind while I was trying to nap and thought "why not?" BTW, for those who might be reading this and don't know, I work graveyard, thus my line about napping.

I went on a lunch date today, with a guy named Steve. I could have listened to Steve all day. He's Australian, apparently, and of course, has the wonderful Australian accent to go with it. Now, no sparks flew (sucky), but he was, at least, a nice guy. Honest, actually. It was refreshing. After an hour at lunch, and semi-decent conversation (I did find out this important fact: America is known for cheap jeans. All over the world. Oh and Wal-Mart. Shocker, right?), we leave the restaurant. We get to my car, we each say how nice it was to meet the other, and then he kind of laughs a nervous laugh. Then proceeds to say, "Well, I guess maybe we could be friends?" I kind of laughed myself, and said, "Sure. That's fine." I got in my car, pretty sure I will never see or speak the nice guy again in my life, but I was relieved that he didn't say "I'll call you" (which most women see as the "kiss of death"), and then doesn't and winds up ignoring me out of existance.

So, thanks Steve, for being the first honest and completely upfront guy I've been out with in awhile. You earn a gold star.

And a cookie.