Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Hot Doctors make it all worthwhile. Note my phone. the texting and twittering never stopped.
Neither did the laughter and the fun. Or the making fun which is why we are indeed going to hell. But we will be in good company. And I will consider myself blessed, even in hellto have her company.
I'm sprained again. With a vicodin prescription that I haven't filled yet although people keep asking me for one. (NO) (BTW, not impressed with the vicodin. it wired me up and then I couldn't sleep. And while my knee wasn't hurting, the ankle still was. What kind of pain pill only cuts one pain-spot?) I don't know if I will be able to bout; I don't want to injure myself further. And it's gonna suck to watch my team skate without me. i suppose it doesn't hurt to pray for fast healing. But I am already blessed in so many ways...
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
It's a good thing, this. I am interested too. Torn between old habits and new possibilities, but interested. He's attractive, but not SO attractive that I am afraid to talk to him. THAT is also a good thing. Divorced, of course, as most men around here are, with 4 kids that live in another state. (it's possible that I misheard the other state thing. 4 kids came through loud and clear) He was introduced to me by a mutual friend who spent the whole evening going back and forth between the two of us getting the scoop on what we think of each other and passing along whatever information she thought important. I thought it was funny and plan to get to know him on my own and make my own opinions. I think she was enjoying the job of matchmaker.
Old habits, unfortunately, keep whispering CNR in my ear. But the truth of that matter is that we are friends and he's either not really interested in me that way or he just has too many other things going on to take on a woman too. I respect either situation. I have a tendancy to wait, when I think there is some sliver of a chance at a future, and I don't want to do that again. I've spent too many years waiting. I also tend to get hurt when whatever man I have been waiting for walks through the proverbial door with a woman on his arm and it isn't me. I don't know what the future has in store.
Which means I have to do what is right for me right now. Because there's a surprise around every corner and I am looking forward to getting together Friday after next with BBQ Man (who needs a different name, but that in time MAYBE). You just never know.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Fall for the crisp air and abundance of pumpkin and spice. Halloween and leaves.
Winter for the weather. in SD it would get chilly and rain. In Reno I have snow. not a lot of snow, but I have learned to love watching it swirl like little ghosties across the road. Impromptu snowball fights, anow angels, hot chocolate.
In the Spring, the flowers bloom. Things seem to come to life. I get to daydream about planting a garden and watch my daffodiles come up. Suddenly, a sweatshirt is warm enough and I can feel the sunshine on my skin.
This morning, though, I realized that Summer is when I come to life. Each day I can look forward to hours by the pool. tubing down the river. sitting out drinking lemonade and talking shit with my friends. The puppybutt and I can be at the park until 7 or 8 and still have light. I wake up each morning to the sunlight on my face, gaze at the tree outside my bedroom window and pretend just for a moment that I live in a treehouse. Each day feels full of the promise of fun. There is plenty of time to work and play. The garden I planted in the spring is starting to bloom and I know that I will soon have peas to shell on the porch. Then squash to grill and finally pumpkins to carve as we head back into fall. I feel energetic and excited to meet the world. I can't wait to sit minipool-side and eat popsicles. To curl up and nap on the concrete with my dog. Or on the couch with wifey's dog; which is how the three of us spent many a summer afternoon last summer. There's talk of camping at the lake. Strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, cherries. Homemade ice cream and BBQ'd ribs.
Today, I think Summer is my favorite. I may change my mind when Autumn comes.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Friday, May 01, 2009
I hail from the philosophy of, if I'm hanging out with you, I like you. (Also if I bake you cookies and such. see below) But actually SAYING anything about it? that borders on terror.
I'm pretty sure that the fear of coming out of the "I like you" closet stems from 7th or 8th grade when I dropped the note on Evan's desk. Let's hop into the way back machine for a bit, shall we?
It must have been 8th grade because I was just starting to become aware of how other people percieved me. I started reading YM magazine (my sister subscribed). I made a new friend. Then three. Taking my total up to 4. (one fell off when she found a new clique) I read that boys liked long nails, so I stopped chewing mine into ragged stumps. I read that if you liked a boy, you should tell him.
I saw Evan for the first time in 7th grade. We had PE together. He was cute. Big blue eyes and a nice smile. I was not a blip on his radar. I always did get along better with the boys so in PE, they were the ones I hung with. Evan and I had a mutual friend, Eric (Eric is now a commercial Airline pilot with kids of his own!) I got to know Eric because I kept up with the boys when we ran the mile. I think I had an 8 minute mile back then. You know, before my boobs grew.
By eighth grade, I still had my crush. And on the advice of YM Magazine, I wrote Evan a note. I wish I had a copy of it. It would be a facinating read almost 20 years later.
It could have been worse. The note could have made its way across the school. I could have been made fun of, he could have been mean. Instead, he ignored it. But I'm pretty sure Eric told me he didn't like me back. At the very least I never heard whether anyone was making fun of me, if I did, I have forgotten.
It doesn't take a whole lot to send me back into hiding. It was years before I approached another boy, preferring to sit back and hope they noticed me instead. Sometimes, I would reach out only to get slapped down.
Even now, I fear that rejection. When it comes to men, I'm still a wallflower in many ways. I tend to try and be a friend first and interested second so that if the man in question isn't interested, then I haven't made a complete fool of myself.
What is the point of all this? I'm at that crossroads again. Of needing to know what is going on and trying so hard to build up the courage to ask, regardless of the consequences. I'm at a point where I'm getting mixed signals and very likely giving them too. Because I'm hiding behind a mask of indifference and I don't know how to stop.