The Dog Days Are Over

And I never wanted anything from you
Except everything you had and what was left after that too, oh
Happiness hit her like a bullet in the back
Struck from a great height by someone who should know better than that

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come

I have no specific theme or purpose for this blog.  I'm in a good mood and wanted to write something while I was in a good mood.  I have three random things to share.

1. I feel energized and happy today.  I went shopping for some new clothing because I had a dream last night that someone at work (a female someone) mocked me and the comfortable, semi-casual way I dress and tossed down a gauntlet that she was going to take away all of "my men" (the safe and the not-so safe).  I woke up feeling frumpy and determined that no woman, especially one who seems fake and superficial and out to use her good looks to get men to be at her beck and call, was going to cast a scornful eye on me.

I've been wearing baggy clothing for years.  I always wear a size bigger than I am.  I guess part of me thinks it makes me blend into the woodwork and not be noticed.  However, now that I've lost some weight, the baggy clothing is baggier than ever.  I'm constantly hoisting my pants up.  A couple of my low-cut tops are practically peekaboo now. 

So, I grabbed a woman's clothing store credit card I have, some coupons for the store and headed there after lunch.  I was delighted to see signs everywhere that proclaimed "take an additional 30-50% off".  I bought several pieces for my wardrobe and now that it's getting warmer and sunnier out, I'm hoping to banish the baggy pants for skirts and dresses.   I also treated myself to some new underwear and a necklace.  I'll have shopper's remorse tomorrow.  However, today, I'm feeling giddy from the purchase.  I can't wait to wear the new things to work.  Hopefully, the pollen count will cooperate and I'll be able to resume wearing make up too.

2.  I've become obsessed with the word "junk".  It all started about a month or two ago when someone mentioned to me that she had gotten a text from someone with a photo of some dude's junk.   I already wrote a blog about that and what I'd do if someone texted me his junk.  

However, I've been thinking about the word "junk".  Why do we use it for the penis?  Why "junk"?  I remember when we called it a "package".  That sounds delightful and positive.  I like receiving packages.  It hints of something special beneath the wrapping.  But, junk?  It sounds negative.  Odd.  However, I've become more aware of junk words.  So, I pondered....  If "junk" is the new term for penis, does that mean that "junk in the trunk" now means "anal sex"?  (If you're putting your junk in someone's trunk (butt), well, you do the math.)  Then, I was watching New Girl and Schmidt texted a photo of his junk to CeCe and called her and said, "Did you get my junk mail?"  That kind of cracked me up.  I've been sharing my junk obsession with a male friend (whom I shall refer to as Junk God) whose mind and sense of humor run pretty parallel to mine.  I asked him, "What would be the female equivalent of junk?"  He just shook his head.  Later, I came up with "junk drawer".  Where do you put your junk?  In a junk drawer.  Since then, I have been on a mission to translate as many junk terms as possible into other things.  My friend has jumped on board and is helping my madness.  I love it. I love him for encouraging my silliness.  Some of the below are his.  Some are mine.

Junk - penis

Junk drawer - vagina

Junk in the trunk - anal sex

Junk mail - texted photo of junk 
Junk dealer - pimp or gigolo

Junk yard - male pubic area (it's what you "groom" like a yard)

Junk yard dog - critter that lives in the junk yard
Junk yard war - um, a ... cock... fight

Junk food - viagra (it "feeds" the junk)

Junked up - aroused, stiff or hard

Junkie - a sex addict or someone who is obsessed with junk

Junk bond - to be attached to someone's junk

Junk removal - sex change or a Lorena Bobbitt moment

I'm also obsessed with junk websites.  Junk-o-rama.  All the junk you ever wanted, all in one place. 

Junkin' 4 Jewels - it's what happens when the junk yard meets up with a bedazzled junk drawer.  Blingety bling bling.

I even found a someecard today about junk:

I'm weird.  But it's fun.  I shared with my co-worker who went out for drinks with me on Friday my little hobby and she said, "You need to get laid!"   That cracked me up.  I said, "No.  I just like thinking up things that relate to junk." I'm glad my male friend gets it.  The little things make the day go so much faster. It's fun to talk about junk and people have no clue we're talking about dirty things.

3.  New recipe for those of you who like to dump things into a bowl and microwave them and be pleasantly surprised by the outcome.  I was craving Mexican a couple of weeks ago and went through my pantry and freezer and came up with the following, which I made again today.  This would be a great Pampered Chef recipe to use one of their microwaveable casserole dishes for.

In a 2 quart microwaveable bowl, mix:

1 pouch of microwaveable pre-cooked brown rice

1 can of drained white beans

1 pouch of low sodium taco seasoning

1 can of white meat chicken

1 jar of queso salsa dip

1 cup of frozen corn

1/4 cup shredded cheese

Mix thoroughly and microwave for approximately 6-8 minutes, until bubbling hot.

I didn't count the # of servings but there's easily enough for 4-6 servings.  Tastes great as a leftover or burrito filling.  I just eat it as is, on a plate or in a bowl, with some baked corn chips crumbled on top.

You can also substitute fat free cream cheese or fat free sour cream for the queso salsa and add some diced tomatoes.

Well, the weekend is almost over.  (sigh)  Guess I'd better get my butt in gear.  I hope this perky feeling continues tomorrow.

Think Good Thoughts

I'm just gonna say it,
There's no using in delaying,
I'm tired of the angry hanging out inside me,

So I'll quiet down the devil,
I'm gonna knock him with a shovel,
And I'll burry all my troubles underneath the rubble

When I'm alone in my dark dark room,
I have to tell myself to,

Think good thoughts,
Think good thoughts,
Imagine what the world would be if we would just,
Think good thoughts,
Stop the bad from feeding,

I won't let the negativity turn me into my enemy,
Promise to myself that I won't let it get the best of me,
That's how I want to be
Na, na, na, na

I'm not saying that it's easy,
Especially when I'm moody,
I might be cursing like a sailor till I remind myself I'm better,

Cause words can be like weapons,
Oh and you use them, you regret them,
Oh but I'm not gonna let them take away my heaven

And when I start feeling blue,
I remember to tell myself to,

Think good thoughts,
Think good thoughts,
Imagine what the world would be if we would just,
Think good thoughts,
Stop the bad from feeding,

I won't let the negativity turn me into my enemy,
Promise to myself that I won't let it get the best of me,
That's how I want to be

I just think rain on a summer night,
Stars filling up the sky,
Sunshining on my face,
Making a secret wish,
Finding my happiness,
That always makes me hold my head up high,
I wanna hold my head up high,

I wanna think good thoughts (Imagine what the world would be if we would just think good thoughts)
I wanna think good thoughts (wouldn't that be something?)
I won't let the negativity turn me into my enemy,
Promise to myself that I won't let it get the best of me,
That's how I want to be
Na, na, na, na

At the beginning of every flight I've ever taken, a flight attendant always reminds everyone of their emergency options in the event of a crash or other emergency.  I'm usually fidgeting in my seat, adjusting the seat belt, getting comfortable, sending a mental wish that the person next to me will not be some freak who will annoy me for the duration of the flight, etc.  Sometimes, I check out the Sky Mall catalog and think of how once I win the lottery, I'm going  to buy one of everything in the catalog just so I can tell people I have everything from the Sky Mall catalog. 

I've flown so many times that I could probably do the demonstration right along with the flight attendant.  In fact, when I do new hire training, I sometimes do a joke about "emergency exits" and things like that just to be funny.  I even have the hand gestures down pat for referring to the fore cabin and aft cabin.  Ahhh, maybe I missed my calling.

Part of the demonstration always states: "In the event of loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will drop from the panel above your head.  If you are traveling with someone who may need assistance, please secure your own oxygen mask before securing that of your companion..."

Makes sense, right?  You can't take care of others unless you take care of yourself first. How often do we, as women, actually do that in our lives though?

Last night, I went out for drinks after work with a lady I work with.  She's someone I know casually.  We see each other every day in the hallway and always say hello to each other.  She tells me she thinks I'm funny and positive and enjoys being around me.  So, she's trying to get out more and invited me to drinks because she thought I'd be fun to hang out with.  It was a nice compliment.  I'm trying to make new friends and get out more as well so it seemed like a win-win for me.  The only hindrance is my current financial status.  She said she'd buy the first round.  I shook my piggy bank and was able to come up with $30 in quarters that I deposited into my checking account to cover the rest, in the event I needed it.  Yeah, my money state has come to that.  But, this blog is not about money.  It's about positive thinking and trying to make positive change happen.

My friend was late.  I had some time to sit in my pollen covered truck in the parking lot of the bar while I waited for her.  I was listening to Colbie Caillat's latest CD and usually, I only listen to the first three tracks (Brighter Than The Sun, I Do and Before I Let You Go) and then get a little depressed and turn off the CD and look for something else.  Brighter Than The Sun is a great great song about meeting that one person who fills your life with light.  I think of a friend of mine who recently met someone like that when I hear the song.  I'm waiting for my light in shining armor. I Do is about giving up emotional baggage about commitment and allowing yourself to fall head over heels in love, to the point where you want to say "I Do" forever. FOREVER.  Before I Let You Go is about a woman who is love with a man who is stuck with someone he doesn't love, yet keeps seeking out the woman who is in love with him for peace, happiness and comfort.  The song is about the first woman's ultimatum to the man that she's giving up on him for being stuck in his old life and refusing to see what he has right in front of his eyes.  I'm sort of in that situation.  Sort of.  So, after this song plays, I usually feel kind of shitty about my life and how I let myself get sucked into situations where I do everything for someone out of "love" only to have him move on to someone who doesn't or won't ever treat him as well as I do.

Yesterday, however, I did not eject the CD and wallow in self pity.  I listened to the rest of the CD and came across a ditty called Think Good Thoughts. I listened to the lyrics and it felt like she was talking about me.  I've quoted the entire song above.  I've been in such a bad mood lately.  Frustrated with everything and everyone.  Frustrated with the guy who doesn't give me the same amount of attention that I give him.  Frustrated with platitudes from people who don't quite understand how absolutely petrified I am about my money situation.  Frustrated with the weight loss and exercise plan I don't feel like doing anymore.  Depressed about how bored I am with my job but too scared to take a leap and look for something else because I know how few and far between good paying jobs are in this area.

So, back to last night...  I listened to the song a couple of times and then my co-worker showed up.  We went inside and got a table by the door.  I figured it was my best chance of avoiding the thick cloud of cigarette smoke in the place.  She had never been to a karaoke bar before.  We ordered some happy hour drinks.  I tried Bud Lite Platinum, which cost more than regular bud lite but didn't really taste any different.  I thought the cobalt blue bottle was pretty and was trying to think of ways to smuggle one home to use for a flower vase. Yeah, my mind works like that. 

We made some small talk, mostly about work, and I told her I did not want to talk about work, co-workers or anything like that.  I said it depressed me and that I wanted to have a fun time.

One of the things we discussed is how neither one of us is the "typical girl".  She shared that she grew up military and then joined the military.  She said she's been surrounded by men her whole life and has a masculine approach to things.  She commented that she got that vibe from me.  I told her that I did have a no bullshit mentality most of the time, but the truth is, I'd love to be more girly girl.  In my heart, I'm girly girl. I get envious of how guys eye the girly girls at work.  She said she didn't really have that desire.  Then, she asked me if I was sleeping with someone at work.  I quickly changed that subject.

We also discovered that we're both nurturers and care-givers.  She said she noticed that I seem to be the kind of person who wants to take care of people, make them happy, and do things for them.  ALL THE TIME.  She asked me, "Do you ever just do things for yourself?"  I laughed and said, "Without feeling guilty about it? Not really."  That made me think of the flight attendant thing. 

I really do put other people's needs first.  I hardly ever ask for anyone to put my needs first.  Part of it stems from being let down a lot and just finally reaching that point where I don't trust anyone to be there for me.  I've tried.  I've told people I need help.  I've shared personal issues.  An example:  I recently mentioned to a friend that I was struggling with a plateau.  I've been eating right.  I've been getting regular exercise.  I've been drinking my water.  However, I keep gaining and losing the same 2 lbs.  He made a couple of references to "I need to bring in my book for you" but it never materialized.  Then, a few days later, a mutual friend mentioned to me in front of him that she was on a plateau too and he immediately rattled off tips to her and gave her website information.  What I heard was that my plateau wasn't as important as her plateau. Now, it could be that my friend trusts me to figure out my own way and knows me well enough to know that what works for him might not work for me and that I'll get frustrated trying his way.  However, had it been reversed -- had he been the one needing help, I would have had photocopies, a book and all sorts of information ready for him the next day.  I know it seems minor, but little things like that make me realize how inequitable some of the relationships in my life are.  In the grand scheme of things, does that one thing end a friendship? No.  But if there's a bunch of little things, over time, it feels like a mountain of disappointment.  Right now, I have small hills forming with a few people in my life.  It's not good.

Back to the bar -- my co-worker and I bounced around ideas about how to be less nurturing and less care-givey.  But, in the end, I realized I probably won't change much.  I'm a people pleaser.  However, I think I might have to be more vocal with my needs.  Or find people who will be able to give me as much as I give them.  Normally, I don't keep score and don't care.  Lately, however, I've had needs... and have felt shut down and alone in my needs.  I'm running on emotional empty.  I can't help others until I help myself.

So, I'm trying to re-frame things.  I'm trying to get back on track so that I feel better about things.

After that, our serious stuff ended and we drank, drank, drank.  I had a bit too much to drink.  I woke up with doodles on my arm from where I told my co-worker that I was thinking of getting a tattoo so she wrote all over my arm with an ink pen to give me an idea of what a tattoo might be like.  Uh... yeah... I don't know that I want one now.  I spent a good 20 minutes trying to scrub it off.  I still have some remnants of it.  Of course, it could just be that I don't want "I LOVE _________ (insert the name of someone she thinks I'm in love with)" written in black ink on my right forearm.  We did jello shots. I drank beer. She had rum and coke.  We played this game of "Fast or Slow" whenever anyone would come up to sing.  We'd try to guess if the song they were going to sing was Fast or Slow.  Then, we'd try to guess if it was going to be pop, country or rap.  There was a lot of odd songs last night.  I had more fun in December with the music selections.  There were a lot of slow songs last night.  Slow songs I'd never heard of.  I kept trying to get her to do a song with me.  No luck.  Maybe we didn't drink enough.  

Around 11, this very large woman came in.  A big blonde woman.  Bigger than me.  I've been feeling very self conscious about my size.  I normally don't pay much attention to it and think that I'm decent enough looking as I am. But, I am human and prone to bouts of "not good enough."

After my eHarmony rejection weekend and watching how three of my co-workers were fawning over a size 2 new hire this past week (a size 2 who spent 15 minutes debating hot coffee versus cold coffee with someone in front of me and made my brain hurt), I've been a little more aware that I'm not what most guys want.  So aware that I'm considering having weight loss surgery.  But, that's another subject for another day.

I digress.  This woman came in and was just exuding confidence.  I could tell she had no problem with her size.  She was wearing tight capri jeans and a low-cut, form fitting purple top.  She was wearing all sorts of shiny glittery jewelry.  I looked around to see if anyone was looking at her or judging her.  No one seemed to look at her.  I always feel like people are looking at me and judging me when I walk into a room.  Then, this very attractive Hispanic guy came in and walked right up to the large woman and hugged her.  I thought, "OK, probably just friends."  Then, they scooted close together at the table, held hands and got a little cozy with each other.  Yeah, not just friends.  I noticed an engagement ring on her left hand.  The man was totally smitten.  She was, too.  He was tall and thin and they fit just fine.  I always worry about the "10" factor when I see myself with men.  I took a picture with a tall, thin guy once and when I looked at the picture, I saw the number "10".  In shape, he was the "1" and I was the "0".  Tall and thin beside short and round.  The picture made me uncomfortable and in my mind, I've always been hesitant to try to find someone tall and thin (even though that's what I'm attracted to) because I just don't know that we'd "fit".  But, it worked for the woman and her man.  I guess love makes it fit?

I want that confidence.  I also want to be healthy.  However, I want to walk into a room, no matter what size I am, and feel confident, not apologetic. I want someone to walk in with me and be proud that he's with me.  Not ashamed to be seen with me.

I hope that if I think good thoughts, I can make this happen.  I also think that if I take care of myself first, too, this could definitely happen.

Then, maybe I can move on to feeling brighter than the sun, with the man who didn't want me to let him go, and who will eventually make me want to say I do. He will take care of me the way I take care of him.  With or without the oxygen mask to support us in the event of an emergency.

My Chemical Romance

And they were two souls
searching for each other
One spirit looking for the other
caught between a hard
hard place and a rock

Two souls searching for heaven
rolling the dice looking for a seven
to the tick, tick, ticking of time
gotta beat the clock

Too many nights on the ledge
he acquired a knife-edge
Still the city didn't
acquiesce to his demands
Some nights she cried for pity
in the heart of the city
the city smacked her hands

I messaged a friend about a weird dream I had the other night about my online dating experience and she asked me to post it here because she said she liked how concise and clear my interpretation of romantic chemistry was in my dream.  She said it may help others with determining what is real and what isn't when it comes to finding Mr. Right.

So, Mandy, this one's for you.

I had a dream that I got a message on Zoosk from someone named "VBeachDad74". I logged into Zoosk and checked out the profile. There was no picture on the profile and the "title" of his profile was NOM NOM NOM. The profile was awesome. It had the right amount of humor and sincerity. I "felt" like I knew the person in some way. I had a feeling it might be someone I knew but without a photo and name, couldn't be certain.

So, I decided to read the message and it said:
"What is your take on chemistry? Do two people have to have instant, lab-melting, explosive chemistry the minute they meet in order to be a successful partnership?"

In order to respond, I had to buy a 3 month membership. I was a little nervous about responding because I wasn't sure if he had written me "seriously" or if he was messing with me, if it was who I thought it was.

I wrote back: "My take on chemistry is that a relationship needs it to last. There has to be some sort of connection, some symbiotic need to be together and work well together. Humor, intelligence, spiritually, emotionally and physically. I think that instant chemistry is flashy like fireworks and burns out quick, like lab-chemistry. You pour the vinegar into baking soda and it bubbles and foams immediately. You ooh and aah. Then, it fizzles out and you are left with a soggy mess to clean up. I prefer kitchen chemistry. You combine the right ingredients, set the right conditions and wait for the magic to happen. Let's say, the ingredients are for soup. You put all of them into the pot but if you don't turn on the heat, it'll never be soup. I think some couples are like that. They each bring the right ingredients to the stove-top but until heat is applied, nothing will happen. I think what happens is that they each wait on the other to turn on the heat and opportunities for chemistry are missed. SOMEONE has to take the chance and turn on the heat."

I liked my answer and hit send.

Almost immediately, I got another message from him that said, "Who should be the one to turn on the heat?"

I wrote back, "If I'm part of this recipe, then it would have to be you. I've been the one to try to turn on the heat in the past and it didn't ignite. So, now I'm waiting patiently."

He responded, "What if the soup turns out bad after the heat is applied?"

I responded, "Not if you do it right. You can't just turn the flame on full blast. You have to start small. Give a little, adjust. Give a little more, adjust. Mix things up."

He responded, "What kind of things would start your chemical reaction?"

I responded, "Obvious things that show you are interested in me more than as a friend. Don't do something that you'd do for a friend. Do something that you'd do to let me know you saw me as woman. Do something that would show me that you have opened your heart to me and only me. A private joke, a private song, a single flower that has meaning, a card... something that will remove all doubt in my head that you WANT to start a fire."

I didn't get a response. So, I wrote back, "Scare you off?"

I still didn't get a response. I waited for awhile and didn't hear anything more so I logged off and went to bed.

The next day, I received a box of matches and a note that said, "If this means anything to you, come find me."

I woke up.

I believe what "dream" me came up with.

I'd like to think it's true.

However, the person in my dream -- or who I think the person in my dream is -- does not approach chemistry the same as I do.  I get the feeling he's a flash in the pan kind of chemist.

Too bad.  I make some darn good soup.

Fantasy

It's always been about me, myself, and I
I thought relationships were nothing but a waste of time
I never wanted to be anybody's other half
I was happy saying I had a love that wouldn't last
That was the only way I knew 'til I met you

I Do by Colbie Caillat.

I posted last weekend about trying to put myself out there in the realm of relationships and dating so that I don't spend the rest of my life surrounded by safe relationships that go nowhere.

I'm currently registered with three online dating services.  Mate1, Zoosk and eHarmony.  The guys on Mate1 all want a hookup.  If I just wanted to get laid, that would be my best bet.  However, I do not want to get "laid" (and only "laid").  If I just wanted only sex, I could probably shake my tail at this one guy at work and be done with it.  

Zoosk has an immature "Facebook Hookup" vibe. Someone told me it used to be called WooMe which emphasized video hookups. The guys are using IDs that are boastful and overconfident. Whatever happened to sweet innocent user IDs that were humble and told of true personalities?  Mine is "booksnbeach4me", reincarnating the screen name I used on my LOST message boards and previous blog sites.  I used to use "SimplyMe" or something like that but that one was taken multiple versions over. The photos are cocky and arrogant.  I can look at profiles and they can look at my profiles, but if anyone is interested, I have to pay to communicate.  There is no "one month" option and I'm just not interested in any of the profiles enough to pay for it.  A few nights ago, one of the men sent me a message stating that God told him to click on my profile. He's from Nevada.  I'm not sure how God lead him to me in Virginia Beach. I *think* (from my previous experience with dating sites) that he may have just clicked on a bunch of profiles that met some basic qualifications.  He included his email address in his message so I emailed him and asked him, "What else did God tell you to do?"  Then, realizing it sounded snarky, I wrote him back a few days later and attempted a more genuine communication.  I haven't heard back from him.  Maybe God told him "My bad.  Try someone else."

This brings us to eHarmony.  I took their profile questions seriously.  I answered over 400 of their "personality questions".  I selected my "preferred match" settings (age, race, location, etc.)  I tried to not purposely limit anything.  10 years younger, 10 years older.  No racial preferences.  No atheists. (Not because I'm super religious but I'd like to think that my soul mate believes in "something", whether it be aliens or God.) Within 30 miles of my zip code.  No smoking.  With my allergies, I just can't have someone who smokes in my house.  Nothing outrageous.  I uploaded some photos from various outings and events in the past 6 months.  Wanted to show my fun side.  I don't really consider myself unattractive so I had no qualms putting my photos out there.  I considered no photo at first, but then decided that might make people think I'm hiding something.

eHarmony gave me 19 matches initially.  19 men who fit the basics and had some degree of compatibility based on my answers to all of their other questions.  This was last Thursday night.  I decided to let Fate do its thing and sat back and waited on someone to contact me.

By Saturday morning, I had no responses.  I decided that I needed to probably do something to make myself stand out.  So, I went through all 19 profiles and weeded out those who live on the peninsula because I just don't want to deal with bridge and tunnel when if comes to dating.  (For those of you from out of the area, Virginia Beach and Norfolk are separated from a portion of the area by a bridge/tunnel combination that has a habit of getting jammed.  I have a friend who lives 20 miles away according to my Garmin but it can take up to 45-60 minutes to get to her house depending on traffic.)  

So, I don't want to date someone where, if we get serious, we are going to have to spend time coordinating the whole bridge/tunnel thing.  I want someone relatively close.  I don't want someone whom if I need them at 3:00 a.m., I'm going to have wait 45 minutes.  I also, being forward thinking, don't want to have to get up an obscene hour of the morning to drive back home to get ready for work if I spend the night there because I have to worry about bridge/tunnel traffic.  I don't think my boss and co-workers would appreciate a text at 8:00 in the morning asking them to cover my classes because my late night booty call resulted in me being stuck in traffic.

That removed a few profiles.  Then, of those that remained, I read each profile carefully looking for hidden messages, poor grammar, deal breakers, etc.  I don't mean little typos.  I mean blatant repeated mistakes and errors.  I also looked for sense of humor and genuine-ness.  Kindness is also important.  I consider myself a nice person and I want someone who is nice, too.  No assholes.  I can't deal with "all about me" types.  I did not eliminate any specific "look".  Although my preference is usually the "boy next door" type, I didn't limit myself.

By the time I was all done, I had 8 profiles left.  8.  So, I took a deep breath and sent each of them a brief, friendly note.  Trying to establish a connection.  Not too funny, not too boring.  Basically, "Hey, we have things in common.  I like your profile.  Give mine a look and I hope to hear from you..." stuff. 

Waited.  Waited.  Waited.   Absolutely no responses.  None.  I went back in this Tuesday night and looked at my profile and my number of matches is now down to 11.  All 8 of the men I reached out to are no longer showing up as matches.  Rejected.  8 times over.  eHarmony has this option where you can "close" a match if you don't think you'll be interested in that person.  

Apparently, all 8 closed their match to me.  I want to think they did it because they aren't available any more.  That's the optimist in me.

I tried not to take it personally.  I re-read my profile and my settings.  I sound decent.  If I were a man, I'd date me if all I had to go on was the profile.  So, of course, that leaves ME.  My physical ME.  I don't want to think the men are that shallow, but the reality is, I think they are.  Eventhough I put in my profile that I am a work in progress and was proud of recent efforts to get healthier, I think my girth frightens men.  Inside, I think many of them are stuck in high school where they want to be seen with the hot chicks with the tight bodies.  The chubby girls may have made them laugh, feel good about themselves, and feel comfortable about being themselves... but they didn't give them woodies and weren't the girls the other guys would huzza huzza about.  I was so mad when Glee wrote off the token fat chick who was being chased by the token bad boy. 

I'm told all the time I have a pretty face and nice personality.  That's the kiss of death for big girls.  No guy ever doodles on his love wish list that he wants a pretty face and a nice personality. They want the perky breasts, a some-what flat stomach and perfectly rounded ass on a size 8 (or below) body.  I met a guy once who was a total loser who told me after seeing my photo that if he had the choice between me and someone who was anorexic, he'd take the anorexic.

I try to have confidence.  I try not to care what other people think.  I am a good person.  A good catch.  But, I'm not thin.  I don't think I ever will be. I did the math in my head and realized that at the healthy rate of 2 lbs per week, it will take me about 100 weeks to be in my "normal" range for someone of my height and age. That's two years!  What man is going to wait two years for me?

So, I haven't exactly been in the best of moods this week. My confidence is shaken a little.

I'd reach out to the remaining 11 but I don't think my heart can deal with 11 more closed matches.  I thought about taking down my photo before reaching out to the remaining 11 but then, what do I do when it comes time to meet me?  I went through this in the mid 90s.  I remember what it was like to meet a guy face to face and he'd get that "OH MY GOD!" look on his face as he realized my comments about being overweight weren't a joke.  One guy told me that "overweight" meant 10-15 lbs past normal weight.  He told me I should have told him I was obese.  I told him my photo was on my ad.  He said he thought maybe it was an old photo. He wasn't attractive and I thought it was funny that even troll-like men want supermodels.  I'm at least realistic. But, I also go for personality.  I'll overlook less than average looks if the guy can make me laugh. Sarcasm is sexier than a six pack abs.  But, that's just me.

Old wounds heal slowly, it appears.  I don't want to get hurt and I don't want to feel like I need to apologize for my size and who I am.  eHarmony may say that they match you based on "levels of compatibility" but in the end, I think it comes back to attraction.  Physical attraction.  My sense of humor, my intelligence, my wit, my kick butt writing skills and my ability to make people feel good about themselves...  just not enough for love at first sight.  Not enough for initial attraction.

I told a friend recently about the guy at work who said he'd "do" me.  She jokingly said that maybe I should see if there's more to him than meets the eye.  He's not "safe".  If he's willing to do me, he's not put off by me.  Maybe I could get to know him and see what happens.  She said, "What's the worst that can happen? Casual sex?  At least you won't get emotionally attached and worry yourself sick about the outcome.  You'll already know the outcome."

I am not cancelling the profile.  However, I am not putting any more effort into finding someone through online dating. I'm leaving it all in Fate's hands. 

I think I'd rather live with a house full of cats who love me as I am and surround myself with safe relationships that at least give me hope and fantasies than keep facing rejection.  I'm not wallowing in self pity.  I'm being realistic.  I can't be what these guys want and I honestly don't want to try.  I realized on Wednesday night that I don't want to change myself to win someone's heart.  I like me as I am.  Their loss if they don't.

I am a damn good person with the ability to love someone deeply and for a long time.  My brain is sexy.  My body may not be to everyone.  But, in a few decades, it won't even matter.  How many senior citizens do you know who walk around saying, "Ooh, she has a nice ass"?

I promised someone I'd explain the meaning behind my Rick Springfield dream... or at least what I think the meaning is.

I've mentioned I have some safe relationships.  Men who are not interested in me for various reasons. Men who are comfortable with me but nothing more.

I think the dream was my heart trying to tell me that I wish one of my safe relationships would stop being safe and save me all of the hassle of trying to find someone.  

In my dream, I met someone I have been "in love with" for over 30 years.  He was right there in front of me.  Instead of trying to make time with him, I was worried about why a male friend was upset with me.  Rick even wanted to try to help me make him jealous.  I was more pleased that Rick wanted to read my blog than the fact that he was close enough for me to lick the sweat off of his neck.  My junior high crush was a past safe relationship.  He was a friend who made me laugh and who rocked the color pink like it was no one's business, in a time when wearing pink was not masculine.  (He did not end up gay.)  I'm always trying to get one of my safe relationships to wear pink because I had a dream about him 8 months ago where he did in fact wear a pink shirt and looked good in it.  He refuses, stating that people will think he's gay.  I think seeing my old crush just reiterates that I don't think men who wear pink are gay and are attractive in a "I don't give a f*ck" way. Rick represents the fantasy.  He has been the epitome of my perfect man.  Tall, thin, athletic, dark hair, lean good looks...  Creative. Sexy.  I was demolished when I read in his autobio that he cheats on his wife and has a mean streak as a result of depression.  That made him too real.  We all have a fantasy.  Sometimes, the reality matches the fantasy.  Sometimes, it doesn't.  When presented with him, I enjoyed his presence and appreciated him as a man, but... I didn't want to take the fantasy any place real. 

This past week, I tried to give one of my safe relationships his fantasy girl.  He has mentioned a couple of times an interest in this woman we both know. Barely know.  I said something to the friend earlier in the week that kind of insulted him and I wanted to make it up to him.  I don't like hurting my friends.  For whatever reason, whenever he's in a bad mood or upset about something, I can pick up on it and my own mood alters accordingly.  Long story short, as an olive branch, I offered to fix him up with his fantasy girl. She's someone who comes to our business to do presentations once a month.  She's a sales person.  So, she has a certain personality to present.  I've gotten to know her through emails and conversations.  She's a nice lady.  However, I don't KNOW her as a person. (Neither does my friend.)  I only know what she tells me about herself.  But, my friend is convinced she's his dream girl (much like how I had myself convinced that the cute doctor who came was my dream guy until I realized my fantasy of him was better than the reality) and I wanted to make my friend happy, eventhough a part of me knew this would make me unhappy.  I don't like to play matchmaker.  I also didn't want to lose one of my safe relationships.  I didn't want to hear about their dating if it worked out.  I think I may have insulted him more with the offer.  In the end, he didn't want it (whew!).   So, by putting him in my dream, I think my heart was trying to tell me that he's more important to me than I thought when it comes to reality versus fantasy, safe versus unsafe.  He's not in love with me.  However, I think I wouldn't be opposed if he was, if that makes sense, which is what Rick was trying to be a catalyst in making happen in my dream.  It didn't though.  It pushed away the male friend, which tells me the thought of loving me is scary.

At the end of the dream, he decided to forego his own hurt to be a responsible friend.  Or maybe he just wanted to stick around to see if I'd do Rick.  Dunno.

The point of this blog -- I'm not ready to leave my safety zone.  I don't like being lonely.  I have great things to offer to someone.  However, online dating is just not for me.

I don't think I'm ready for the reality yet. 

Come to see victory
In a land called fantasy
Loving life for you and me
To behold to your soul is ecstasy
You will find other kind
That has been in search of you
Many lives have brought you to
Recognize it's your life now in review

As you stay for the play
Fantasy has in store for you
A glowing light will see you through
It's your day shining day
All your dreams come true

Love Somebody

I can see the path you're cutting
It cost me a little piece of my heart
I can see the doors you're shutting
'Cause they were open at the start

Baby, loving you has been hard on me
You're such a tough little sister
Just looking for Mr. Right
On the wrong side of town

You better love somebody
It's late
You better love somebody
Don't wait
You better love somebody
Don't tempt fate
You're gonna push it just a little too far
One night 

I know it's been a week since I blogged.  I think my muse was on vacation.  I have had things to write about -- a decision I made about my future, an update on my online dating experiment, an update on my weight loss plan...  but... I'd sit down and no great song would come to mind.  No witty words would flow from my fingertips.  So, forewarned, I have three blogs forming in my head.  They'll surface eventually.  I also bought another issue of Cosmo and have started to watch the Dr.Oz show.  Those things will also show up in a blog soon, I'm sure.

I had a weird dream last night. I blame a week of crazy at work and the 4 beers I had at happy hour last night.

In the dream, a local radio station was having an intimate acoustic get-together with Rick Springfield as the featured performer. I was able to obtain passes to the event.  This gave me up, close and personal contact with Rick.  The venue was small and near the oceanfront.  It looked like an old lounge or cabaret style club.  Velvet couches, vinyl booths, small round tables and black cushioned chairs.  Red carpet.  Thick red velvet drapes on the walls, with gold fringe and tassels.  Very old-fashioned.   It smelled of old cigarettes and old carpet.  But, I didn't care, it was Rick Springfield.

For whatever reason, one of my male friends was there.  He was sitting on the arm of one of the velvet couches in the back of the room, far away from the action, as if he didn't want to be associated with what was going on, yet wanted to be there to see what happened. I think he may have come to make sure I kept myself in line, to keep an eye on me.  I mean, it was Rick Springfield.  I've only had a crush on him for 30 years.  He's on my list of 5. (You know, the 5 celebrities you are allowed to have sex with, regardless of your relationship status, if the opportunity ever presents itself.)

I was standing beside my male friend, joking with him about how I was going to kidnap Rick and take him home and have my wicked way with him.  He (the friend) kept narrowing his eyes and shaking his head.  I think he knew I was all talk but I love to do that.  I love to talk outrageously to see what kind of response I could get.  Yet, there was this part of me that really wanted to do it, too, to prove something.  I don't know what, though. And to whom I'd be doing the proving.

Rick stepped out from behind the curtains, carrying a stool and a guitar.  Everyone started screaming and cheering, myself included.  There were less than 50 people in the entire place.  Rick was wearing a pair of faded jeans, sandals and a pink pin striped button down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up and open at the neck. (I love rolled up sleeves that show muscular hairy forearms.)  I turned to my male friend and said, "Look, he's wearing a pink shirt!  You should wear a pink shirt for me!"  I laughed and nudged him with my elbow.  He pulled away and got this angry look on his face.  "You have to stop saying things like that!  I am not going to wear pink for you.  I am not in love with you!" he said angrily and then crossed his arms in front of his chest.  I was totally taken aback.  I gave him a weird look and said, "I never said you were in love with me.  I just said you'd look good in pink." I shook my head, thinking to myself that I was mad that he dared to try to ruin my night.  So, I left him sitting there.  

I moved closer to the front of the crowd and met up with some other people I knew.  We were laughing, clapping and singing along with Rick.  We linked arms and swayed.  We pretended to have lighters and held them up.  Good times.  Rick sang some new stuff and it was good stuff.  Mellow, romantic.  No anger or hurt.  Positive messages.  Similar to Jason Mraz's style.  Every now and then, I'd look back at my friend to see if he was okay, but he'd look away.  I remember thinking, "Why is he still here if he hates me so  much?"  But, then I quickly put the thought away and went back focusing on Rick.

One of my other male friends who recently got employee of the month was there, too.  I told him I didn't know he was a Rick Springfield fan.  He said he wasn't but he got free tickets and decided to come.  We laughed and he told me he had never even heard of him before.   I shook my head and danced with him a little.  

Then, Rick took a break and was mingling with the crowd.  Shaking hands, hugging, kissing.  I was patiently waiting my turn.  When he got to me, he smiled and said, "If I stand right in front of you with my back to the room, it'll look like we're involved in an intensely intimate conversation and if you put your hands on my shoulders, it will look like we're kissing.  I'm just saying."  I laughed and he moved so that his back was to the room.  I put my hands on his shoulders and he leaned in close and asked me if I had read his book yet.  I told him I had gotten two copies for my birthday last year.  He smiled and said that he heard that I was a writer, too, and said he wanted to read my stuff.  I smiled and beamed.  I pulled out a piece of paper from my purse and wrote down my blog URL for him and gave it to him.  He hugged me and then I asked my employee of the month friend to take photos of us.  I told Rick that my friend just got employee of the month.  Rick just laughed and said that he hated corporate America.  I asked him if I could become part of his band and travel with him.  He laughed and said that he had a feeling someone else wouldn't like that.  Then, he winked at me, gave me another hug and kissed my forehead.  I told him he was awesome and then he moved on to other people.  I was on cloud nine.  I was totally giddy.

While Rick continued to mingle, my friend and I moved to the back of the room where drinks were.  We stopped to talk to my other friend and he looked mad.  I asked him what was wrong.  He said, "If he's what you want, then f*ck you!"  He got up and left.  I looked at my other friend and said, "Um, what did I do?" He just shook his head and said he had no clue.

I was confused and couldn't decide if I should go after him or stay behind and finish the concert.   

I chose to stay behind and finish the concert. Give him space.  Plus, I really wanted to hear some of Rick's old stuff.  He had promised to do Souls, Motel Eyes, Love Somebody, Don't Walk Away and his older, slower, romantic stuff. 

As I was leaving, thinking I had been ditched, I asked this guy who was my junior high school crush (this was his first appearance in my dream) if he'd walk me to my car.  He said sure.  I stepped outside and my other male friend was there.

My junior high friend said, "Do you still need me?"  I said no.  He nodded and walked away, wearing a pink polo shirt with the collar up and with a plastic comb in his back pocket, just like he used to do in junior high.  I laughed to myself.

I then woke up.  I know what the dream means.  I'm not even going to pretend I don't.  However, I don't have the energy to deal with it.  So, for now, it's just another weird dream.

Let me just say, Rick does an awesome acoustic version of Love Somebody.  At least, in my dream he did. I felt like he was singing just to me.

I'm only saying what I feel
You think I'm wrong I know
You thought I was sleeping at the wheel
I thought that you were driving

You better love somebody
You better love somebody

What Doesn't Kill You

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger
Just me, myself and I
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone

Today was a good day.  I haven't had many lately and I am celebrating the fact that I shook off this cloud of sadness and restlessness that has been following me around for the past three weeks.

It started way before three weeks ago (see the "Things Happen for a Reason" blog).  Started with losing my part time job and discovering I owe Uncle Sam and the State of Virginia money this tax season.  I knew I would.  I just didn't think I wouldn't have a part time job to pay for them.  Paying them will pretty much wipe out my savings. So, I've been stressing about money.  A lot. A lot.  A lot.

First, I put these ads on my blog using a service recommended by Blogger.  Only, there was some glitch and the ads were creating way more revenue for me that they should have.  The service cited me for Terms of Service violation and yanked my ad privileges.  They alleged that someone (I think they thought it was me) was using a robo-clicker to click the ads over and over and over.  This just wasn't true.  I was over $100 at the time the ad service was yanked.  I had been planning on using that money to rebuild my savings.  It was gone in an instant.  I was angry and frustrated.

Then, in a moment of weakness, I called my mom to see if she could lend me the money.  Instead, I got subjected to an hour of venting about my brother.

Then, I applied for a couple of work at home jobs and didn't get any sort of response.

Then, I created a profile on LivePerson.  To date, I've had one customer and have made $20.  

Then, a friend sent me some Tarot cards to practice and possibly create a work at home business doing readings.  I've been "practicing" but I don't feel comfortable enough with my analysis of the cards yet to even think of charging people money.

Then, I looked in retail but the stores I went to wanted people with more availability than what I have.

I even filled out an online application to be a "phone actress".  (Phone Sex)  Didn't get a call back. I think I would have been good at that one. :) 

Found another ad service for my blog but it doesn't seem to appeal to my audience like the other ad service.

Recently, I attempted to sell plasma to make some money.  I waited 45 minutes, let them take some blood for labwork and answered over 30 questions about my sex life and recreational drug use.  (How many times can a person say "I don't have sex or take drugs"?)  Then, I got rejected because they didn't have a BP cuff big enough for my arm.  Seriously?  There was a guy in the waiting room before me who was much larger and I didn't see him get walked out.  I think the tech was lazy.  Before I walked into her cubicle, she was complaining about how she had to work through break because there were so many people in the waiting room.  Someone told her she could go as soon as she was done with her next patient, which just happened to be me.  I think she didn't go look for a bigger cuff because she was craving some "King". (Burger King, I'm assuming.)  I asked for a manager, but there wasn't one on duty.

That was my last ditch effort.  I know money isn't supposed to buy happiness but when you're short, it definitely puts a damper on your happiness.  I've been using credit cards to put gas in my car and buy groceries, trying to keep as much money in savings as possible to pay my taxes.  I'm going to wait until the last minute, too.

I've been trying my best to keep it to myself.  It's been eating me up inside.  I can't sleep.  I keep thinking about money.  No one wants to hear about another person's money problems.  It's not something that is easily solved.

I've also discovered that I have some pretty strong empathetic tendencies around people in my life.  I've been picking up their stress levels, their bad moods, their sad moods... and I've been absolutely worn out.  I used to be able to block it and filter it, but I don't know if my "immunity" is weakened because I've been stressed out myself, but I walk into work and within 15 minutes of being there, someone else's bad mood has tainted me.  I have been trying so hard to shake it off, but I care about some of the people I work with and their pain becomes my pain.  Their angst becomes my angst.  I care for them but I need to make sure I don't make their feelings my feelings.  No one wins if we're all miserable.  I like being bubbly and positive.  I want to be the one who can shed bright light and warmth on situations instead of encouraging wallowing.  I've been encouraging wallowing, sadly.

On Thursday, I made a concentrated effort to be perkier and to not engage in any sort of negative situations or invite people's problems into my head and heart and I was ok.  I continued this on Friday and had similar ok results.  Although, the weather was battling me on Friday and I had the worst sinus/sick headache when I walked out the door.

I also made up my mind last night about a member of the opposite sex who has had my heart and emotions in knots. I've decided to just let my feelings fade. It's too much work and love is not supposed to be so much work. I slept like a baby for the first time in ages.

Before I fell asleep, I said a prayer to the powers that be and sort of said, "Look, I get it.  I am not the strong person I think I am and I cannot fix everyone.  My love and support is not enough.  I get it.  I am leaving it all up to you to see me through this."

I don't consider myself a particularly religious person.  I do consider myself a spiritual and intuitive person.  As soon as I said the words out loud that I sort of give up, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  I fell asleep early and slept soundly all night, waking up early and raring to go.

I withdrew $100 from my savings account this morning and gave myself permission to have a mental health day of sorts.  I went to the gym.  I got a pedicure.  I picked a color I've never tried before.  I then got my eyebrows waxed and my hair trimmed.  Then, I came home and watched television and did laundry.  I tried to take a nap but couldn't sleep.  I was still too wired.  So, I spot cleaned my carpets in the living room and watched more television.  I also played with Abby and put together my new Dyson vacuum cleaner.  I got it from HSN on super flex pay.  $75 a month for 6 months on their credit card.  Abby's fur has killed 4 "inexpensive" vacuum cleaners in the past year.  I calculated that I am spending about $300 a year on cheap vacuums.  The Dyson is expensive but it allegedly does not lose suction and has a 5 year warranty. I'm excited about using it tomorrow.  It's too late to use it tonight.

Tomorrow, I'm going to a Home and Garden Show with a friend.  I have neither home nor garden but I enjoy going and daydreaming.  

I'm taking back my life and letting things happen however they are meant to happen.  I'll pay the taxes and scrimp on my spending until I can find a way to rebuild my savings.  I'll stop overanalyzing my relationships with men and worrying about why they don't want me the way I want them.  I'll give eHarmony a fair shake.

I'll go back to the gym again on a regular basis.  I'll keep doing my weight loss plan.

I've lost 21.6 pounds since January.  I've been battling with the same 2-3 lbs for the past month.  I lose them.  I gain them back.  I lose them.  I gain them back.  I hope to kick them in the butt soon and lose them and many more of their little friends soon.  I'd like to be down a total of 50 lbs before my high school reunion in August.

So, Nietzche once wrote: What does not kill me, makes me stronger.

Kelly Clarkson turned it into a song.

Soon, I shall be so strong I'll be able to lift cars with my bare hands.

Until then, I'll just sing along with Kelly and be happy with what I am accomplishing, day by day.