He Must Be Happy, He Must Be Happy, He Must Be Happy in His Work

So, hey. Remember how Archie kept trying to fit into a cereal box and that made me doubt his intelligence? Well, he actually did manage to squeeze himself into a box about half that size. So, now who's intelligence should I be doubting?...

As If Everybody Here Would Know Exactly What I Was Talking About

Here is the guy drinking from a bota, but finding it is now dry. Wah!

I guess all I have to do is write a blog post documenting Archie's bad behavior and he straightens right up. He was an absolute angel last night and I actually got some sleep. Nice.

Speaking of nice...Wednesdays have become my new favorite nights. I picked up the guy after work. We got to my place and Stinky was still hanging around. We chatted for a bit before she went to her youth group. The guy and I ate the potato leek soup, some salad, smeared the roasted garlic and baked brie I made all over some sourdough bread and washed it down great wine the guy brought over. It was all so very wonderful.

I'm hoping all the cat torturing the guy did for Archie helps mellow him out and I get another gloriously pounce free night at my house.

She Could Steal But She Could Not Rob

At the Club Car...Or what used to be Mike's Tap to any of you ex-pats.

Wow, kids. I might just have to be carried out of this weekend on a stretcher. It's been great, but so, so busy. I'll just write about Friday right now and get to the rest of it later.

The marching band.

I got off at noon on Friday and had an incredible run. It was really nice. I came back home and did some tidying up and some eating before I had to head to the Quad Cities at 4. I've had the hardest time getting decent directions to the Quad Cities from Mapquest lately. I don't know if it's because of all the construction. Anyway, I got lost and had to have someone come get me and I followed them to the funeral home to get Stinky. As we were driving out of town, I got a text from my friend E. She was wondering if I wanted to go out. I had Stinky text her back that I'd call her when I got home but I was going out and she was welcome to join me.

The guy getting ready to eat the egg.

We finally made it back to IC, I got Stinky fed and then I deposited her at the football game. I picked up E. and we headed to my friend's birthday at the Club Car and it was really nice. We had a couple of beers, but we were no match for all the folks doing shots to celebrate my friend's birthday. We decided to check out the Dublin to see who was there. We didn't see anyone we knew there, so I suggested we go to Joe's Place instead. We were so glad we did.

Spitting out the egg. He really did try.

The marching band showed up and played. E. used to be in the band when she was in college, and she had some great stories about it.

After the band left, a guy stood behind me and ordered some pickled eggs. He got our attention and asked us if we were jealous about the fact that he was going to eat pickled eggs and we weren't. We flipped him some shit about how gross they were. Then he asked us to watch the eggs for him, while he took off. We thought it was odd that he would suddenly leave before he even ate them, but then we found out why.

This guy kept showing off his big belt buckle with his name on it. Dork!

The guy's friend showed up a couple of minutes later and started whining about how his friend was going to make him eat the eggs and blah, blah blah. Later he admitted that the eggs were just a ruse to get our attention and they tag teamed us. The first guy was bigger and a little more shy, but more earnest (we both liked him best) and his friend was smaller and talked more shit than even I did. They were totally harmless and fun and they flirted with us all night. They kept saying they couldn't believe how hot we were, but still so fun and cool.

At one point one of the guys said, "Hey, let's play a game where we try to figure out how much older we are than you."

E. said, "Okay. Why don't you give me your ID then? Oh. You were born in 1976? Well, we're not that much younger than you..." E. and I laughed about that all night and never told them our real ages. They even got me to try to play pool. I really don't know how, but they were really patient and actually came close to hitting the ball in the pocket.

Finally, I told E. I had to go home. We said good-bye and they asked us a million times if we wanted to go to their place and hang out. We politely declined. They told us they would be tailgating the next day and then hanging out at Sam's pizza after the game and asked us to meet them there.

We decided that while they were pretty amusing for one night, they'd probably start being annoying if we hung out with them for much longer. So, we let it go. It was a great night and we had a wonderful time and laughed about how ridiculous it was the whole way home.

Come Back, Get Back, That's Part of Success

Here is a screen.

Oh, kids. Things are so much better now that the funk fog has lifted. I know I need to navigate through the negativity sometimes, to come back better on the other side...And that's where I am now - safely over THERE.

Sure, my house has more issues than even I do, but it's mine and it's pretty damn cute, and the gladiolas and black-eyed susans and cone flowers and dahlias are just getting ready to bloom in my garden. I don't get to see my girls as much as I'd like, but they're awesome and healthy and funny and strong-willed and self-possessed and not afraid to embrace their inner dorkiness and all those things I wish I could have been at their age. I live in Iowa and the weather is hot and stormy and chronically humid, but I can still run in it and feel kick-ass at the end of my 6 mile route. I'm going to be 45 years old in less than two weeks, but I feel better emotionally (which is the big one) and physically than I have in my whole life. I don't have shit for cupboards or counter space, but I can still whip up some amazing, healthy fresh meals, if I do say so myself...And that appears to be what I'm doing. There are so many things to learn, read, write, feel, see, experience, eat, play and people to meet, that I won't get bored for the rest of my life...So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm back to grabbing big handfuls of life and devouring them again. Oh, and also....Tra la la la la la la la la la. I'll continue to sing that song until the next episode.

Backed Against the Wall, Got You In a Tight Place

What say I put up yet ANOTHER pic from my garden. This time it's a bloomin' lily. Isn't she pretty?

So, yeah. Today was a weird day. First I went to ride my bike to work and it was raining, but there wasn't one cloud in the sky. Then in the afternoon, I went across the street to get some computer print-outs and while I was in the tiny, creepy basement room there, all the lights went out. I felt like I was in a bad horror movie. Scary. When I got back to my office, I realized that the electricity was out there too. I never quite got the whole story, but I think someone screwed-up at one of the many construction sites around campus and maybe snipped a power line or something. It only lasted an hour, but I forget how crippled we become without all of our little electronic gadgets and gizmos.

Tonight was Coadster's very last choir concert. It was great. Coadster had a solo and I talked to some of my other favorite parents. I sat kind of in the middle of the row of seating, and about 3/4's of the way through the concert, some guy who looked to be in his twenties came up and sat next to me and leaned into me. There were tons of open seats, so he could've parked himself somewhere else and we both would have been more comfortable. Oh, yeah...And he smelled bad. He was a decent, normal'ish looking guy, so I was surprised that he was being such a horrible space invader. I leaned to my right, so he might get the message and move over the other way. It just made him lean further into me. I had no idea what to do, so I ignored him and was glad that there were only a couple of songs left.

The weirdest part of the day came after the concert when Coadster told me she was going out for a bit to help a friend celebrate his birthday with a bunch of the other kids and I said, "Okay. Tomorrow's your last day of school, so I doubt you'll be doing anything anyway, but just text me and tell me where you're going when you're leaving and when you'll be home....Wait. You're 18. I guess you can do whatever you want...." But She cut me off and said she would text me anyway, just so I didn't worry. Good girl. This whole having a kid who is a legal adult will take some getting used to.

Yet There's Still This Appeal, That We've Kept Through Our Lives

Here is a snowman and his snow dog. I ran by it on Thursday and had to go back with my camera and take a pic. It's pretty damn cute.

Sooo, I was migraine free today, which means I got a lot done. I did some tree work in the backyard. If only I had a chainsaw and a longer ladder, I could get everything I want done in about a half hour. For now, I'm chipping away at it. The tree had some branches that grew down in order to find the sun. Unfortunately, those branches shade my little backyard too much. I'm a big fan of English gardens and have visions of those around the periphery of the yard. So, I'm trying to clear things up a little to make way for the sunshine.

I also helped a neighbor find and coax her cat out from under another neighbors porch, went running for 6 miles, and made a ton of Mexican food as payback to all the people who helped me start my car while its battery was bad. In other words, I'm tired and so I'm doing another cut and paste post. This time, it's a couple of text or email exchanges I had with friends recently. Sorry for the lame-assedness.

The first one is from Friday night when a friend texted me.

Friend: Hey. What r u doing?

Me: Since my girls went to bed early, I'm drinking a beer and watching The Hurt Locker. How about u?

Friend: (clearly making fun of me for hanging out by myself on a Friday night) Since my son has a friend spending the night, I'm free-basing and watching The Golden Girls.

Me: Wow. Really? Awesome. I think the only way I'd b able 2 stand 2 watch The Golden Girls was if I was freebasing.

This next one was an exchange between another friend of mine, on how tricky it is to read emails and messages and how we need several different fonts as aids.

Friend: What kind of font do you think someone should use if what they were trying to say was, "Yeah, this small talk is really nice, but I really want to see you naked and have sex with you"?

Me: I dunno. I think if you're getting drunk texted from a guy after midnight, you don't need a font. You can just assume that's what he's saying...

Okay, now. I have a little kitchen cleaning, and then I'm going to try to read myself to sleep. Night, night.

Because Time Won't Give Me Time

Here is a photo of a guy putting up fliers that I took last Fall. Now I'm that girl putting up fliers.

I know I've yacked on here about what a small town this is, and how everyone pretty much knows everyone else's business in whatever circles they're in. It doesn't bother me, because I'm an open person and try not to do anything that I'd be ashamed for people to know. Plus, my life is so damn mundane that if people talked too much about it, they'd all pass-out and go into boredom comas. So, now that I'm trying to get someone to rent my apartment, I thought I'd let this whole small town yacking work in my favor. I started telling everyone I knew that I needed a subletter and hoped that it would spread like wildfire. I suppose that it would work better if I could make it more salacious. In keeping with the whole "trying to buy a house is like trying to find a relationship" analogy; it does kind of feel like I'm trying to move onto a better domestic situation and my apartment just won't get over me and let me go. If only my apartment could meet a new tenant that it liked even better than me, we could both get some kind of closure. There. That had a little more drama to it. Now it might be more fun for people to tell their friends about, who tell their friends and so on and so on and so on...

So, I've spent much of my breaks and lunches and after work time, putting up fliers around town. The drag is that it hasn't yielded even one phone call so far. The upside is that I've been running into people I haven't seen in forever. I guess there's always good and bad in everything.

Anyway, I guess I'll just keep putting up fliers everyday in hopes that my apartment and I can resolve our differences, get over each other, find ourselves in better situations and move on.

I Could Go On For Hours and I Probably Will

Here are some lonely boats.

I'm sure it's the time of year, but I can feel people pulling me into the world of forced social engagements. I have my Fall retreat at work tomorrow, my friend wants me to work concessions at a high school football game on Friday and then there's the show choir potluck on Sunday. If I've said it once, I've said it a million times; I'm not a joiner.

I do try to show up and support my girls in whatever they're doing, (I just spent two hours today at cross country time trials) and I volunteer to do stuff that I know a lot of my coworkers aren't into. It's just all the "getting to know you" exercises, the events requiring name tags, and the forced socializing that I have problems with. Luckily, we don't do any role playing exercises at our work retreats anymore. The last one we did made me want to stick forks in my temples.

So, it really isn't all that bad, and if I get sucked into working concessions at the football game, I'll at least be with a friend of mine I've known since college, I can just think of so many other things to occupy my time that wouldn't be quite as painful. You know?

Okay, wish me luck at the prospect of less name tag wearing experiences in the future.

And For a Minute There, I lost Myself, I Lost Myself

Here is a sandcastle that they built downtown to celebrate the college students coming back to town.

Well, things didn't happen quite the way I thought they would on Friday...But what ever does? Basically, a friend of mine was having a rough week. I had been trying to help her through it via email during the week. By Friday night, I decided she needed some escapism, so I brought her a book and I stayed until about 8:30 talking to her. I wasn't home for even an hour when Stinky got back from the football game. So, I didn't get as much reading done as I wanted.

When I was in my teens and early twenties, I was sure I was going to die young. I guess, technically now it's too late for that, but all those years of living like I could die at any time, have had some positive influences on me. I used to wonder what would be most important to me if I died right at that moment. Would I be upset that I didn't read enough books, or have enough stuff or run enough miles or have tons of money? Not really. I decided that ultimately I would care most about my relationships with the people who mattered to me and the adventures I experienced. So, I'm sure I'll have time to read my book this week and hopefully I helped a friend when she needed me.

Here is my favorite bartender and his adorable wife.

I went out on Saturday night and had a great time. A lot of my friends were out and G.'s old college buddy was in town.

He was a great sport about hanging out with all of us loud, bawdy dames, and was even okay with the obsessive photo taking. I have a feeling when he left town, he appreciated the hell out of being alone in the quiet of his car without women screeching at him or giving him seizures with all the camera flashes though.

Don't worry. This pic is totally staged.

I stayed out pretty late for me, but I said goodbye to all the fun kids who were on their way to an afterhours party. I'll never be able to keep up with the cool kids, and that's just fine with me. I don't want to waste my Sundays trying to recover from Saturday night. Who knows what will happen to me, and I do want to spend at least some of the time I have on this earth reading books, after all.

I Think About the Loveless Fascination, Under the Milky Way Tonight

Here are some light pink peonies.

So, my four day weekend got a ridiculous start. I dropped Coadster off at the high school baseball game and Stinky off at an end of Freshman year party, then headed to my beautiful friend S.'s house. We were planning on a nice mellow girl night with amazing food and some wine. It sounded like just what the doctor ordered.

Here are some darker pink peonies.

Once it got dark out, things started to get weird. My friend S., my friend K. and myself were sitting outside at S.'s table, when we saw two guys lurching toward us. We were a little apprehensive at first, but then after we talked to them and tried to get them on their way, we realized they were just young, harmless drunk guys in their early twenties. One of them vanished fairly soon, but the other one stayed and talked to us for over an hour and then called another friend of his to pick him up and he decided to hang out with us for a while too.

He kept trying to tell me how young he thought I looked. At first I looked 27, then he said I looked 19. I told him to keep drinking and I'd get down to 12 years old soon. He also told me that I could go to any bar in this town and get whatever guy I wanted. I thanked him, but informed him that most women could. It doesn't matter what we look like, or how heinous our personalities, basically women just have to show up to hook up.

Here are my first snap dragons of the season. Aren't they cute?

After we talked a little while longer, I realized that his girlfriend played soccer with my daughter. So, I showed them a picture of my daughter from my phone and asked them if they knew her. Turns out, they did. Coadster had been to parties at their house before. I texted Coady to tell her about it and she was really confused. She called me to ask me why I was hanging out with her friends. I explained a little of what was going on, and then handed the phone to the one boy, who proceeded to tell my daughter he thought I looked 19 and that next time I dropped her off at a party that I should come in too. Yeah, that will never happen, but we all got a good laugh out of it.

So much for our mellow girl's night. Maybe next time, we'll have to drink in the safety of our homes.

And We Were Glowing Like the Metal on the Edge of a Knife

A couple of things converged to make this Saturday just about as ridiculous as it could get. First, our friend Dexter of Degrees of Grey blog started working at a dive bar called Kandyland. Apparently, it has a new owner who is trying to class up the joint a little, and is adding bands and karaoke to bring in more cultured and varied patrons. Second, I've never done karaoke before, and I suggested that we check out the Saturday night karaoke, with the extra added bonus of harassing Dexter at work.

The end result was pure idiocy...In a good way. If you've never done karaoke before, (and it seems I'm the only human on the planet who hasn't) you pore over a huge book of song titles to find the very best Def Leppard song in there. (well, at least if you're A., you do)

We had a few bumps in our fun road. Namely, super creeeepeeee, furry, toothless guys who were also WAY too friendly.

My friend J. here was very, very nice and agreed to dance with said furry, toothless creeper. If there is one thing I learned all those years tending bar, is that it doesn't generally pay to be too nice. So, in that spirit, I made a huge point to document the event. As you can see, J. really appreciated the gesture.

I was a little shy to actually get up on stage and sing at first. As I've said before, I'm fine dorking out all over the place, but please, please, please don't make me get up on stage, or I might just freak out.

This woman here? She rocked all of our faces off. A Facebook friend of mine told me that this is her thing. She actually wins contests and stuff.

Here is a photo of me "turning myself around and accidently wrapping the microphone cord around myself. Poor K. didn't know what the hell to think.

After I had my two beers, I was finally ready to get on stage with my friend K. and sing the "Hokey Pokey". I think the idea was that it would be so dorky and funny and I'd get caught up doing the dance, that I wouldn't be quite so nervous. Of course, we didn't account for my gracelessness. Suddenly, I was Jerry Lewis, calling out for Dean.

Right after that, A. got up to sing another song. This time, he traded Def Leppard in for the Eurythmics. At some point, my friend G. and I thought he needed a little help. By the time we got through, we needed to change the lyrics to "Nightmares are made of this..."

Right before we left, four of us got up to sing, "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights". We thought it would be funny for girls to sing it to other girls, and as far as we were concerned, it was. K.'s boyfriend A, took the camera and got all artsy on us. He took a bunch of pictures of us looking like the freaky people in the movie Jacob's Ladder. It was kind of fitting, actually.

The time finally came for us to leave our new found creepy, furry toothless friends and head back to the Dublin Underground. By the end of the night, we were sufficiently tired, sweaty and fresh out of shame. In other words, it was a perfect night.

All These Lines on My Face Getting Clearer

Here's a photo of me in my twenties. So much attitude. So much bullshit.

What funny business this aging thing is. For the most part, I'd take being in my forties over my twenties any day. Sure, those lines are no longer so fine, and I can't bend at the knees without a loud, cracking protest from the place where my cartilage used to be, but it's an easy trade-off to finally be able to relax and like myself.

There was so much angst and unhappiness in my twenties. I would be paralyzed by what I used to call restlessness, but now know was something more akin to self-loathing. I felt threatened by almost everyone. I dressed in such a way and wore more than enough black eyeliner to let people know they wanted to avoid me. I hated you first and best - whomever you were. Gawd, how tedious I was.

Here is a photo the Dexter took of me dancing last month. So little shame. So much dorkiness.

I still see glimpses of my former self. Like this evening when Coadster asked me to go to her AP Government study session, so she could get extra credit. My immediate gut reaction was to go find my black leather motorcycle jacket and sit in the back of the class, surrounded by my invisible wall. To be honest, I did sit in the back of the class, and it took me a minute or two to warm up to finding someone who shared a similar political term. We had to match up terms, and the students then would write a sentence with them. The kid who's term went with mine, was a bigger dork than I was and his dad was totally pleasant. He now worked at ACT but had previously worked in the same office where I'm currently employed. He had seen me running down Rochester Street before. His wife arrived and she was also very nice. I suddenly remembered I wasn't an angst ridden freak anymore. I looked and acted (you know, for the most part) like a middle-aged mom. When did that happen?

When I was younger, I never thought I was enough of anything, and I dated guys who helped instill that in me. Now, my friend Ed jokes that I'll never meet a guy who likes me as much as I like myself, and it just might be true. Thank god I'm old.

Here In My Car, I Feel Safest of All

Here is a photo of some I-80 traffic on our roadtrip this Summer. I'm so photoless, I'm going through Coadster's vacation pics now.

We're almost at the weekend now and I am so happy. I want time to stay home and relax. I don't have any real plans, except for my friend Libby is coming from Chicago and we're planning on lunching together on Sunday. I got some shit to do, so I'm stealing from the old blog again. I wrote this in June of 2006. Read it and weep:

I have always been a freak magnet. It doesn't matter if I'm in a bar or walking down the street, you can guarantee that the only homeless, no teeth'd, crack head, psycho who ditched their meds, will come up to me and get all up in my grill. I used to think I had some kind of special sign around my neck that only they could see that said, "Lick me on the face and call me sucker." But today I think that sign fell off of my person and attached itself to the front of my car.

I had just dropped Coadster off at the baseball fields and was heading to the store to pick-up a few things, when I saw a woman standing in the middle of the street just ahead of me. At first, it looked like she was stupidly running in front of traffic, but then she turned around to face me and held up both thumbs. I stopped my car and she put her hands on my hood, then she kept her hands on my car and moved around to the passenger side window.

"Can you help me? I need help." I thought she might be sick or injured but I didn't have a cell phone. We were right by a gas station, so it seemed odd to me that she didn't go there. "I need a ride to my daughter's house over by Sheraton Street. I'm so hot and tired that I don't think I can go much further without fainting. Please. You're a lifesaver."

"You mean SheriDAN Street?" I asked.

"Yeah. Whatever. My daughter lives over by there and I need a ride. Please?" By that time, there was a line of cars behind me. If I had the girls, I would have said, no for sure. But I didn't have them. I used to hitchhike when I was younger, so I felt a little hypocritical not taking her. Although, I would never have been that aggressive about it myself.

"Um. Okay."

"Oh thank god. Shit. I'm on these new meds and they're fuc... I mean, messing with my system."

"Hmm, " I said. I didn't want to have to have a long, tiresome conversation about her meds, so I didn't ask her about them. I was just happy she was taking them.

"You know where Sheraton Street is? It's over by Summit. She don't live on Sheraton, though. My daughter lives on a street right off there."

"I know where Sheridan Street is."

"Hey, where you going? I don't go this way. I go a different way."

"This is faster than going to Court and then tracking back. It will still get us to Sheridan."

"Oh, this is Sheraton. You gotta take a left here."

"Left? Okay."

"Now we're back where we started. It should have been right over here. Drive around some more."

"You don't know where your daughter lives?"

"I would, if you'da gone the other way. Just keep driving around." I used to be a huge push-over when I was younger. It was that orphan thing where I thought I was a huge impostion to everyone and it was my job to help people and put up with all their shit. I continually felt like I had to make up for my being alive and breathing someone else's air. I'm finally old enough and have met too many people who were happy to take advantage of me, that I have gone the other way. Now, I push back once it's clear to me that the person I'm dealing with is shot full of entitlement issues.

"Actually, I'm not going to drive around. I was being nice to take you here, but I have things to do. I was going to Hy-Vee, and we were right in front of it, when you stopped my car..."

"So, what? Do you expect me just to walk around and look for the house by myself?"

"Yeah. If you don't know where your own daughter lives, how would I know?"

"Do you know where Summit Street is?" She said this slowly and loudly, like she thought I might be retarded.

"Yes. It's back the other way."

"Okay. Take me there and maybe I can find it that way."

"I'll take you to Summit Street, but that's it. I have things to do." I turned around and headed for Summit Street and two blocks away, she said,

"Stop! That's the street. I know it. It's here." I pulled over to the side of the road to let her out. She picked up her bright pink purse and said, "Thanks, so much. You're a lifesaver. God bless you. I'll be sure to pay it forward." And while I'm sure she'll be paying something, I doubt it will be forward, backward, or sideways. I have a feeling it will be straight to her dealer...Er, I mean, daughter.

But These Are The People That We Call Friends

Okay, kids. This weekend was just crazy and busy and full of stuff. It was all good, but I do wish I had a day to recoup before I went back to work. Since it's so late, I'm just going to talk about Saturday night and get around to the rest of the weekend in the next day or two.

Originally, I was just going to get some sushi and wine and hang out by myself and watch movies and/or play video games. I haven't had one drink of an alcoholic beverage in over three weeks, so I thought it might be something fun and different to do. Then I got a call from my friend G. telling me she and D. and our friend Shecky were all going out. I decided it was time to break my hibernation and actually leave my house on a weekend night and have some fun. And boy howdy, did I ever.

All the Dublin regulars greeted my triumphant return to the bar for the first time this month, by showing how much they cared. In the above photo, you can see the guys making faces behind me while I spoke.

And here, another regular tried to bite my head off. See how innocent and unaware I am of the whole thing?

My favorite bartender even got into the Churlita appreciation evening by sticking a hook in his nose when I took his picture. Pretty.

I suppose when you're wearing a George Carlin t-shirt, you can channel him a little and really flip me the bird with feeling.

And not to be outdone, Dexter from Degrees of Gray blog, used his most expressive finger to point out the writing on the back of the t-shirt for me. Thanks, Dex.

Okay, that was fun. I might have to go out more often, what with all the love I'm shown when I do.

Oh, and yeah. How was your weekend? Did people show you enough love too?

This Could Be the Best Place Yet, But You Must Overcome Your Fears

Here is me pointing at you - yes you, with a pool cue.

I was giving a friend of mine some boy advice today. I instantly realized how ridiculous it was of me, and then laughed my ass off. In some ways it's pretty silly of me to give other girls advice about relationships, but in other ways, maybe it's not that crazy. For one thing, I put a lot of thought into boy/girl relations and for another, I seem to have done some social studying the last couple of years.

When I was younger, I stayed in horrible situations forever and only had a few relationships by the time I was 40 years old. Most of the guys I had dated and/or married could be put into two categories: the commitment phobe/emotionally retarded guys, or the control issue men who were really hard on themselves and if they were in a relationship with me, looked at me as an extension of themselves, and in turn, got mean any time they felt out of control or stressed in their lives.

As a way to figure out how to stop staying in bad relationships, I took a few years off from men altogether and learned how not to fear being alone, but instead, became scared of dating. The last two years, I tried to be more open and went out with different guys. What I've found out in all of that, is that there are as many kinds of men as you can imagine. It was nice to discover that I had options. As always, the trick is to find one who can put up with my shit, and who's shit I can deal with too. I haven't met that guy yet, but I've been close.

In the last month or so, I stopped putting any energy into game players, (whether they are doing it intentionally or not) and it has put an abrupt end to my current dating life. I haven't talked to Mr. B. since last month when he told me he was going to come and visit, and then called me a few days before that was supposed to happen to cancel. He said he got called in to work at his weekend job. I already know he only works from 4 pm -9 pm, so he could easily drive up the whole hour it takes to get here and hang-out after that. The last time he visited, he didn't get here until after ten anyway. I didn't argue that point with him, because it didn't matter. If he liked me enough, he'd make an effort to see me. So, I let it go. I will always like him as a friend, but I just don't have time for the excuses any more.

I also haven't talked to Neal for a bit either. He gave me his usual Saturday call a couple of weeks ago, and I just didn't pick up or call him back. If he wanted to be friends, I'd love to talk to him now and again, but he doesn't listen to me when I tell him that's all I can be to him. He made me promise to write him a letter, so I'll do that. I'm much better on paper, when I can edit myself anyway.

So, I'm changing my boy track again. I'm less open than I was last year. Which isn't to say that I'm against dating altogether. I just don't have time for the bullshit. I spent a lot of time and energy getting my shit together in how I deal with men, and now I feel like I'm in a great place. I'm no longer afraid to be alone nor am I scared to date. I know exactly what I want and I'm sure I won't wallow in an unhealthy relationship, waiting for something to magically change. If that means I end up alone, I'm really okay with that.

As far as giving my friend relationship advice is concerned, I'm probably no less qualified than anyone else is to give it. It's just kind of silly for anyone to offer up advice. It's one of those annoying things everyone has to learn for themselves, (usually the hard way) from their own experiences.

I Got a Parachute to Land On You

Here is a rock announcing the Centennial in the town of Hills, Ia.

Well, kids. It seems as if I'm doing a hundred times better tonight. I still can't breathe properly and my ears are bugging me, but I've been able to sit-up successfully for most of the day. Soooo, anything interesting happen all week besides Lux Interior of The Cramps dying? All the cool kids on Facebook have been bemoaning his death on their status updates, which is how I found that out. One of my friends even said he accidently put his hand in Lux's puke a long time ago. I wish I could claim that kind of punk rock cred...Or maybe I don't, really.

Anyway, I'm feeling better and now I have to be careful that I don't start running around literally and figuratively all over the place again. I would really hate for this thing to reoccur.

Since it's February and we're being inundated with all that lovey-dovey Hallmark crap, I thought I might try to write out a thing or two I like about being single, when I think of it. This week's is that I'm glad I'm single when I'm sick. I hate having to be around other people when I don't feel well. Sure, my girls were around here and there in the evenings, but that's different. I just don't like being all gross and contagious and snotty around other people. I also get really internal when I don't feel well. It's much better when I can spend the day in my head or watching movies, and not feel like I have to explain myself or entertain anyone else when I'm not up for it.

Here are some store fronts in Hills, Ia.

Now, I guess it's the weekend. Originally, I was going to try to see some White guy rappers at the Picador. No, these are good White guy rappers. They aren't those ridiculous wanna be street guys. Both Shaffer the Darklord and Coolzey are performing at the Picador on Friday night and their rhymes are funny, smart and sometimes even charmingly self-depracating. Just what you want in your White guy rapper. I doubt I'll be able to make it now, since I'm not 100 percent better, and I do have the girls, but I hope tons of other people get out and see them.

My friend G. was IM'ing me on Facebook tonight and told me that a bunch of folks were going out for our friend D.'s birthday. I told her to text me if they made it to the bar they were going to, before 10 when I have to pick my girls up at the basketball game they're going to. I might be able to join them for a drive-by drink early. Other than that, I don't have many other plans. I'm going to try to lie low and hopefully get a run or two in during the warm-up that's supposed to happen this weekend.

Oh, one more thing. I think I get a new phone later this month. My company is Verizon and I was thinking about getting a Blackberry. Does anyone have anything to say good or bad about Blackberries? If you can, let me know what kind of Blackberry you have too. Thanks, in advance.

It Makes You Feel Happy Like an Old Time Movie

Our cute, chubby tree.

I'm going to try to make this short tonight. It's another one of those, it's late and I'm tired posts.

You know how sometimes you just get into the holiday spirit? It's not like you have any money, or that you still don't have an attitude about everything in general, but you're actually feeling it? That's how I got tonight. I walked home with the snow hitting my face and shoveled that same snow for about a half an hour. Somewhere during that, I had this weird feeling that things were exactly as they should be. It's a week before Christmas. It should be snowing. I should be shoveling it. I almost felt like defying the elements and running outside too, but then I remembered that not everyone comes home from work and cleans their sidewalks, so a jog around town could be a little uncomfortable.

I took my new found holiday appreciation to a restaurant and splurged on inexpensive take-out sushi for me and the girls (if you take it out, you don't have to waste money on drinks or a real tip). The girls were most appreciative. The only problem, is that I gorged myself and had big expanded rice belly, so I had to take a power nap before I could start getting the tree going.

The ornament Coadster made me in second grade.

Our tree this year is short and squat. Both the girls have used the word "cute" to describe it several times now, but it is fitting.

When I first split with my ex, I was broker than broke. I had a tree that year, but I could only afford to buy one cheap box of red ornaments. Every year since then, I've let the girls pick out one ornament a year for me to buy. Those along with the ones people have given us, and the others my daughters made have since taken over our tree. We don't even have room for the boring red ones anymore. My favorite one is in the photograph above. It's made from plaster, or clay and weighs about 100 pounds, and looks like Mr Bill on acid. Coadster made it in second grade and I'm sure I'll hang it on my tree every year until somebody steals it from me at my nursing home and finally throws it away.

Okay, this is me being a sorry, mushy sap. It's kind of sick, but I figure I gotsta go with it when I'm having these holiday spirit pangs. Don't worry, I'm sure by tomorrow I'll be back to my old self, swearing in front of young children, and kicking puppies.

Zoot Suit Riot, Throw Back a Bottle of Beer

Okay, kids. For reasons I'll get into tomorrow, I wasn't on the computer much this weekend. Right now, I'll just talk about Friday night. I have a shit ton of photos to post, and I'll try really, really hard not to use too many of my words.

It started much like any other night, when I go out - with boys flipping me the bird and making dorky faces at the Dublin.

Then we all marched down to Vito's where they were having their 75th anniversary of the repeal of Prohibition party.

There were guys dressed as 1930's gangsters.

Here's me attempting but not succeeding to show up the flapper poster. You can't blame a girl for trying, can you?


The zoot suit guy really kicked ass. He was even wearing Hawkeye colors.


One of my favorite things was the shuffleboard table. I have often lamented the loss of the shuffleboard table at the Hilltop from back in the day. But now Vito's has one. Oh, happy day.

Just look at the intense concentration of the spectators.

We finally went back to the Dublin and I met this totally hot girl, wearing the most amazing hosiery I've ever seen - lacey tights. The best part was, she was a self-proclaimed attention whore, so she not only let me take her photo, she let me feel her legs as many times as I wanted...Or as often as time allowed.

I finally gave the poor girl a break and joined the dance party. Hooray! I missed my girl crush, but she said she might make it back to town next weekend, so at least I have something to look forward to.

The night ended like every night at The Dublin. One of the bartenders yelled out, "laaaaaaasssst caaaaaaalllll!" And my friend Jen and I had an extremely earnest conversation on our very chilly walk home. The end.