Ok - so I can't think of a title - sue me!
Bittersweet weekend. I spent a lot of time in the car, picking up kids, shuttling them to games, taking my beloved to the airport. You know, the usual. Friday night was spent running to pick up the kids, getting them dinner and settling them into the house.

Saturday, after breakfast, my son and I went to the Laundromat and did the laundry. I know, I know it's early, but with N going out of town I figured I would be nice and send him off with clean clothes. Saturday afternoon I loaded all three of my kids back into the car and we drove the 130 miles to my son's baseball game. They lost. Then it was off to my grandmother's to trade cars with her, because my lovely little bug only holds four and she owns one of those boats on wheels that will haul six. Of course I can't go to my grandmothers without being called in to do tech support for her, so I ended up not getting home until after midnight. Whew!

Sunday was mother's day and my kids got me the cutest card. Better then the card itself was what they wrote in it. My oldest, who's 16, actually wrote that she considers me a friend! How many moms can say that!? My son wrote "I've been having fun at your house" A huge admittion from him. I had a race to get to first thing in the morning.. (full report is here ) Then we grabbed some lunch and then... I had to drop my sweetie off at the airport.

While I'm not as bothered by him going to Dallas as I was about him going to Vegas. (He's alone this time... it's DALLAS for goodness sake) I'm still away from the one I love, and it SUCKS! Hello, do you hear me!? This SUCKS! Just to prove that God still loves me, though, I started my period on Saturday. This means I'll be done when he gets back! I couldn't have picked better timing! And it also means that I am now... officially... back on the pill! So not only will I be done when he gets back from this trip, but I'll be able to jump his bones and not worry about... stuff.

Anyway, back to Sunday. After dropping off my love, the kids and I hung out, and then made the 130 mile trip to return the car to Grandma and the kids back off at their dad's. Then, in protest of being home alone, I went out to one of my favorite bars and sang karaoke until 1:30am before driving home and finally falling asleep at 4:00am.

Whew! Could I pack anymore into two whole days off?

On another note, I talked to my mom on Sunday. You know the whole "Happy Mother's Day" thing. I talk to my mom about once a month weather it's Mother's day or not, so it wasn't that big a deal. She's waiting to hear if insurance is going to approve her boob job. Yes, you heard that right, my mom's getting a reduction. I have to admit, it's one of the few times my mom and I don't see eye to eye on something. Don't get me wrong, I'll love her no matter what, but sheesh, you're going to let them put a knife, where? And on purpose?! In truth I really don't understand the motivation. I mean, in today's society who's looking to get smaller? And not just smaller but SMALLER! She wants to be a C! She's going from gynormous to average! (or even less if you check out today's busty teens) The only thing I can think of as a rational reason is my mom doesn't have much experience being average and now she has a chance, at least in this respect. For one, she's only 5'1" (and that's with shoes on). She HATES being short and is certain that she's discriminated against because of it. She's very pretty, doesn't look her age, and is extremely smart (Graduated with high honors from collage a few years back). So maybe this boob job her finally getting that chance. Or maybe she's just tired of big boobs? I dunno. I couldn't do it. Sorry Mom!

It's a Grab Bag Friday
There were so many things I wanted to rant about that I may just have to take up a bit of bandwidth here today.

Meet the Aunts
So N's family from across the sea came over to visit the family members that live on this side of the pond, and that included the obligatory dinner with N to meet me the 'new fiance'. I wasn't as nervous about meeting these 'distant relatives' as I was about meeting the 'rents' and the 'big sis' but I was... unsettled. They were nice. That is, if you can truely form an opinion of someone after 3 hours. The 'rents' and the big sis drove the aunt and the cousin to our house and they were all there waiting when I pulled into the driveway after work. So, I brought them inside and settled them in. Nothing like meeting the family of your beloved without your actual beloved there to 'buffer' a bit. I made polite conversation and while settling everyone in had to intervene when 'the aunt' tried to 'knee' the ottoman out of the way to get more comfortable in the 'big overstuffed chair with ottoman combo'. You see, my ottoman is hollow and I use it to store my dumbbells and all the plates. The damn thing weighs over 80 pounds and is VERY un-keeable. So I scoot it out a bit and explain to the room that it's heavy because of aforementioned weights. 'The cousin' seems impressed and says "ooo! Does N lift dumbbells?"

You know, in movies, when someone asks a question and the whole room goes quiet and everyone turns to stare at the person who's the target of the question? I swear that's what happened. I wanted to just slink away, but instead had to say. "Ah, no, they're mine."

I think it took a moment or two for those words to sink into her head. And she tried, very hard to come up with an appropriate answer but to no avail. It was like the idea of a woman lifting weights wouldn't pass through the filters in her brain. It was just too... AMERICAN. And it brought to light one of my biggest fears around N's family. Being TOO American.

Apparently I made up for my Americaness later though because as 'the family' was leaving and the hugs goodbye were being passed, 'the cousin' gave me a squeeze and whispered in my ear 'I have a feeling we are going to be related very soon!' And she managed to sounded HAPPY about it.

Buddy can you spare a dime
As you may have deduced we live very near a large city. As a matter of fact before my financial situation deemed otherwise I used to live in said large city. Don't get me wrong, we don't live close enough to be considered 'the suburbs' but we are close enough to consider 'the city' a viable evening destination point. My job often takes me there for various meetings as well.

As is true in most large cities we have a homeless population. A very LARGE homeless population. And to my chagrin, yours truly seems to be a homeless person magnet. I cannot walk through the streets without being approached. Even when walking with a large group of people I'm the one who gets singled out every time. I don't know why. One of my friends said it was because "You look like Fifty cents". Before I could get in a snit about being told I look like a two bit whore he went on to explain that I looked like I was an easy mark, good for at least 'fifty cents'.

I have no idea what I do wrong. I don't make eye contact. I walk briskly and with purpose and try to appear as 'unapproachable' as possible, but still, they come. And I don't hand out money either! When approached I usually try desperately to shrink into myself and murmur a quiet. "No, I'm sorry" or "No thank you". Of course my friends try to tell me that this is exactly the problem. That instead I should fly into a rage and start screaming obscenities at them. But I couldn't even do that in practice. It's just not in me to be rude to someone I don't know well enough to be rude to.

But the strangest thing is that MOST of the time I'm not approached for money. At least that's not what they say directly. Once a lady stopped me to tell me she loved my glasses and she wanted to find out where I bought them. I've been followed for blocks by men telling me how amazingly blue my eyes are, or how much they like my legs. One lady though it her duty to tell me "GIRL! That outfit just doesn't go right, I'm sorry girl! But that just doesn't go right". This from the lady in pee stained jeans, a pink sweater and lime green scarf.

Yesterday, coming back from lunch I was doing my best to not look like fifty cents when it happened again. I hear this voice, and it came from the man walking toward me with hair and a beard that you would swear nested birds and probably a mouse or two. He shouted at me as we passed..."I like your shoes!"

Last one out of the gene pool is a rotten egg!
There are days when I look around and think to myself "You're getting old!" And others when I look around and think "You need to grow up!" Saturday was one of the former. Per his request I took my son and his two sisters to a place called "Fun Works". We are talking about the mecca of kiddom. Here you can drive go-carts, play video games, play miniature golf, drive bumper cars, or float around in boats and squirt each other with water. Needless to say such fun and frivolity does NOT come cheaply, and as I've said before, we're saving for a trip to Scotland. BUT - you only turn 13 once (although with some men I have to wonder if they ever turn 14) so Mom was willing to splurge. BUT - what Mom wasn't willing to do was to spend $17 for her very own paper wrist band offering unlimited access to all aforementioned attractions. At one point during the day I sat on the stone benches will all the "I can't do that it'll mess up my hair" mothers and felt OLD. And I had to wonder, what happened to the chick I knew who wouldn't pass on a go card ride to save her life? Where was the markswoman who could hit an opposing boat rider in the eye at twenty paces? Who was this PERSON sitting with all the other 'mommies' and waving at the kiddies as they zoomed by? Then it hit me, she was in the attic writing her name on her notebook cover, practicing using the last name of the boy who had smiled at her during 6th period lunch. She's just learned the value of priorities. That's not a grown up thing, is it? IS IT!?

Is there such a thing as a Manic Tuesday?
I've been riding a slippery slope ever since N went away to Vegas. I keep making excuses for how I feel, and I even feel better for short burst of time, but then the dark clouds settle again and I'm left wanting to curl up in bed, close the door and turn out the lights.

Not deeply depressed. After all, I'm still capable of getting out of bed in the morning, but there is this lingering sense of BLAH about me. I spend hours at a time fighting the urge to cry for no apparent reason. Friday night, I actually DID go home, lay on the bed and just LAY there for about an hour. I have no REAL idea why I'm looking at the world in shades of gray at the moment. In truth there is no real reason for how I feel. Every time I think I find a reason - I realize that it's NOT a real reason. I'm just BLAH! And it might be getting worse.

This isn't the first time I've gone through this. Eventually it goes away, but it's hell. Hell on me, and hell on those around me. Especially sensitive folks like my honey. He starts blaming himself for my mood, and no matter how much I tell him it's not his fault - he thinks there is something wrong.

Though there are some things in that realm that are bothering me. We're both 'humorist' and we tend to hide our feelings behind humor and we both know this. So lately he's been cracking a LOT of jokes about me seeing someone else. I really don't know how many times I can look him in the eye and tell him "I don't want anyone but YOU!" After a LONG talk on Saturday night as we lay in bed, he finally said "I'm sorry". When I asked him 'about what?' he wouldn't say, but I knew. SOMETHING is going on with him too apparently.

We did have a productive talk today too. This morning he was getting frustrated because he couldn't find his wallet. He 'vented' about the clutter in our house. After he got to work he messaged me about how he couldn't stand the clutter and that he felt it was driving a wedge between us. I was devastated to hear him say it, but it was an excellent opportunity for us to open up and talk..
-------------
Started that post in the morning and never got a chance to finish... Here's how the day finished up.

The rest of the day was a haze of self-pity. I ended up leaving work early so I could pick up some things we needed for the house and some pizza so we could concentrate on cleaning and not have to super heat the house.

By the time I got home I had really worked myself up. I had convinced myself that yes, he loved me, but he didn't LIKE the fact that he did. That I was just some huge albatross hanging around his neck, and that he felt trapped with this woman that he really didn't like. I started convincing myself that he hid things from me, and that we had this shallow relationship that was going to take a LOT Of work to us on the right track.. blah blah blah..

I got home and started cleaning. I was huffing around the house upset at all the things I had been thinking about and pissed that I was cleaning house (I HATE cleaning). N got home, took one look at me and when WOAH! When he finally got me to stop stomping and huffing around he wrapped his arms around me, rested his chin on my head and just held me a while. Suddenly EVERYTHING was better. When he finally let go he simply asked "Are you ok now?". I was almost embarrassed at that point to even SAY what had been going through my mind, but I did, and then laughed at myself for being so silly. The rest of the evening went GREAT. I teased him a bit, asking him several times if the house met his expectations and he admitted that he had overreacted based on being frustrated this morning.

Life is good, once again!

PMS is a bitch!

It's been three years!
In honor of the third anniversary of the day we met I thought I would put together "The story of us."

In April of 2001, I had been separated from my ex for over year. It was apparent to ME that things were over, but not him. I had been dating people during this time, usually no more then once or twice. I dated one guy more seriously but it was a `mediocre' and `safe' relationship. I knew he wasn't my `soul mate' and I broke it off. I didn't LIKE being alone but I was ok with it. Being alone was better then a relationship that didn't `fit' and I had pretty much stopped looking. Still, when the ad came to the house for a place called "Great Expectations" offering a better quality of dating then the internet or hanging out at clubs, I figured "what the heck?"

I ended up signing up for their program. I took pictures, made a videotape (all the hokey dating service stuff) and then started the `search'. I remember when I came across N's profile and picture. I remember exactly what attracted me to him. First, one of his pictures showed him making a face and hanging himself by his tie. To me, this was a sure sign of an excellent sense of humor, and someone who didn't take himself too seriously. There were several things on his profile that caught my eye. One, he was in the computer industry, just like me. Two, he mentioned his love of British Humor, something I also enjoy, and once again affirming his sense of humor. Third, was the statement he made that his favorite characteristic on a woman was her eyes. He said that a woman's eyes were like a gateway to her soul. Yes folks, I bought it, hook, line and sinker!!

The way Great Expectations works is you put in a request to meet someone, they check your profile, see if they want to meet you and then answer back to the company who then gives each participant the other's number. I can VIVIDLY remember the day I came home and HIS name showed on my caller ID! I was SO excited! He had said YES! After playing phone tag a few times we managed to get each other of the phone and from that we decided that we were compatible enough to meet. Since I lived in `the city' and he a few miles away we decided to meet in the city that very night Thursday, May 3rd at 8:00pm. He let me choose the location and after checking a few sources I choose a place I called "The Groove".

I got there first. I have to tell you there are few things worse then arriving at a location and waiting outside for a blind date. I was excited, annoyed, confident and afraid all at the same time. Worse, was the fact that when I got there I realized that the place was called "The GROVE." Duh! He found it ok despite my faux pas. When he arrived I didn't even recognize him. My sweetie is one of those guys who looks like two different people when shaved or not and while in his pictures he wore a goatee, when I met him he had shaved. It was a little shocking at first but I got over it. We looked at the menu for a bit and realized we did not want to eat at the groove/grove, no matter WHAT it was called. A quick stroll down the street brought us to Burger Joint and we went inside. We got along famously, chatting as if we had known each other our whole lives. Once inside, N ordered a milk shake and we started looking at the menu. In about 30 seconds we were both laughing because even without saying a word somehow we KNEW that we were going to walk out of the place without eating there. N peeked at me over the menu and finally admitted, "I really don't want anything here either." I just nodded, and he drank his shake as quickly as possible so we could try somewhere else. Believe it or not we actually ATE at the next place we stopped.

Later that night we sat in the courtyard of my apartment complex just laughing and talking. In my mind, I had just met a VERY good friend, and I had pretty much convinced myself that he was only ever going to BE a friend because he never made a move. We finally said goodnight at 2:00am. Our first date lasted 7 hours.

We talked on the phone a few days later (Sunday) as I was driving home from visiting my kids. He wanted to see me again, and, of course, I wasn't going to object. The second date was just as GREAT as the first, with an added bonus!

When he pulled up in front of my apartment to drop me off, we started talking, and talking and talking, and the night got later and later. Finally, mid sentence I realized he was staring at me, with this funny look in his eyes. For the first time I got a CLUE. He DID like me in that way! My mouth went instantly DRY and I couldn't look him in the eye. I suddenly felt like I was in high school behind the bleachers. This giggly little school girl who had never been kissed. I kept laughing and covering my mouth. He smiled and pulled my hand away murmuring that I was cute when embarrassed. I laughed, embarrassed and tried to cover my mouth again. He didn't let me, and instead leaned in and gave me THE KISS, the one that stole my heart and changed my life forever. It was as if I had finally plugged into this enormous power source and was suddenly running as I had been intended to, while my life before now I had been trying to function on double A batteries. I froze then started trembling and I swear fireworks went off! When the kiss ended I had to wrap my arms around myself, I was shaking so badly. I felt like I was going to fly to pieces! After I recovered, we kissed again and it was even better then the first time! The date ended at 6:00am and all we did was kiss and talk.

The next Wednesday he invited me over to his place. He cooked dinner, we watched a movie and FINALLY got to the `good parts'. `IT' was just as amazing as that first kiss, and three years later, continues to be so. One month, almost to the day, we moved in together, but at that point it was just a `legality'. We had rarely left each other's side, with him at my place, or me at his nearly every night.

Underscoring all of my happiness is this. I was alone before, I'm not afraid to be alone again. And yet I choose NOT to be and I am SO happy with the choices that I've made.

Happy Birthday To Yooooooooooou!
My little guy is 13 today! *sigh* How did this happen? How did I end up being the mother of not one, but TWO teenagers!? It's so, not me! When will the madness end? (maybe in 10 years when my youngest turn 20?) The funny thing is I don't really manage to elicit much sympathy. C went through the whole "Mother, you're so NOT COOL!" phase at about 12. At 16 she's so 'over it', and I would like to think we're pretty good friends. After all, when a 'friend' asked for her number so that he could call her over spring break, I was the first person she called to giggle about it with. Maybe it's because I'm a 'part time mom'. After all my kids are with with their dad 80% of the time, so I don't have to deal with the day-to-day "do you're homework, clean your room, and you're not wearing THAT" stuff. Not that life at my house is all 'fun and games' as Richard would like to believe. They still have to do the dishes at mom's house too. But I digress from my digression. The topic at hand is M who turned 13 today. He's a pretty cool kid too. He's in Jr High, and plays baseball and scoccer. His last report card was all "B's" except for an "F" in Math, that we've already talked about and are taking care of (Yeah he thought he would 'punish' the teacher by not turning in his homework - sure showed HIM didn't he?) He's stuborn, yet cute, a good dancer, and usually has a girlfriend or two to hang around with. Pretty much an all around all american kid, and I'm pround as hell of him!

Happy Birthday Buddy!

Neighbors, Scottland and More TMI
While dinner was simmering last night I stepped out into my backyard with a glass of wine to enjoy the amazing weather we've been having. I heard a quiet "Hello.." and turned to find the male half of my neighbors was enjoying HIS backyard as well. We're only separated by a 3.5' wrotiron fence so it was pretty simple to wander over and chit-chat for a little while. The thing is, I'm not really sure how to take my neighbors. First off my neighbor looks like this guy I used to date. So much so that I swear they are twins separated at birth. Despite this I always manage to be a picture of decorum whenever we run into each other in the backyard or while both leaving the house. He's an extremely intelligent and eclectic man who's fun to talk to, and I think we could probably be friends, BUT whenever his girlfriend is around he clams up. It's the WIERDEST thing. We'll be standing there, talking and/or joking and suddenly he'll perk up and go... I think D's (his girlfriend) awake or her car will pull up out front and that's the end of the conversation. But, last night, while we were talking his girlfriend came the back door and announced, "N is home you two better break it up!" I think my jaw dropped to the floor. All I could think was... WTF!? It kind of pissed me off really, insinuating that I was involved in something I was trying to keep from my honey. In retrospect I realized that I probably DO run off every time N shows up, just because I would rather be talking to him then anyone else in the world. But her little snide remark STILL pisses me off.

In other news (don't I always have other news?) The Dr's visit was GREAT! My blood pressure was an amazing 110 over 70. I had one moment of panic when the Dr said "Sorry my hands are cold" and I thought OMG is she reading my blog? But then I realized that she probably just said that to everyone. Probably my only complaint was that she was a talker. Excuse me, but I REALLY don't want to talk about my JOB or think about the folks at work while I'm laying there with my `soul' bared. Really! All is good though! I've got my lovely pink pills back! Of course I can't start taking them until my period starts - I don't think I've EVER looked so forward to my monthly! Finally, we can have a `spontaneous' relationship again!

OH! And Scotland (and our wedding) may not be a distant dream. I actually looked at plane tickets the other night and for the time we're looking at going I could get tickets and a rental car for two weeks for $2000! That's tax, insurance and EVERYTHING! I might actually be getting married this year after all. Which is a good thing because I'm SO tired of people asking me "When are you going to get married again?" I have NO idea why the fact that we've been engaged since January 1st 2003 bothers people so much. Is it the fact that we're happy? Are they afraid that we'll spoil it for every other engaged couple? Are they waiting to get married so we can just get started being MISERABLE already!? (After all arn't all married couples miserable?) Weird!

Is TMI a mental illness?
I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror at work and realized how un-Californian I looked. For one thing, my body is far from bikini ready. Ok, maybe `far' is understatement. Barring plastic surgery, I've got at least a years worth of work left to do. Secondly, I'm no longer a blonde. I recently went for a change of pace and dyed my hair red. Not that blonde's my natural color either, but before it at least had the `allusion' of California golden coast goddess. Lastly, I am WHITE. I'm talking, `you should take off those white hose, oh they aren't hose' white. I need some SERIOUS sun time. The ironic thing is, every time I think I'm going to be able to have some `fun in the sun', like the three days off I took a few weeks back, the clouds roll in, and I'm stuck looking at cloudy skies. What is up with that? I think it's some sort of cosmic karmic payback... or something.

On a positive note I get to go see Dr. cold fingers for a yearly female check-up tomorrow so I can back on birth control. YAY! Ok, so the check-up thing's not fun, but birth control - YAY! As a matter of fact I have to wonder at the mental capacity of a Dr that can't seem to figure out why my blood pressure reads high every time I come in for a visit when it so low that I'm at risk of being declared DEAD when I visit my General Practitioner. Am I the only one who believes that Doctors should be required to take courses in basic logic, or at the very least be able to complete one of those `logic problems' that show up in the games magazines? You know the ones that start out "One week five bachelors agreed to go out together to eat the 5 evening meals on Monday through Friday..." But I digress. I get to go back on birth control!!! (provided I my new relaxation techniques can keep my blood pressure low enough for them to get at least ONE reading in the `normal' range) This means free-for-all frolicking in MY household is sure to ensue. I can hardly wait! Hmmm, this may call for a celebratory strafing of Fredrick's Hollywood!

Dare I say the word... Career?
Work has suddenly become an entire new environment. I have this project, and it?s a BIG project, and I get to run it. I get to lead meetings, write memos, draft project plans. All the stuff I trained for and I?m LOVING it! I wish this was what I did all day every day! Wait it IS supposed to be my JOB. HELLO! Oh well, if I can pull this project off (and I can?t see why not) I?m hoping to see a LOT more of this kind of work come my way. Enough projects like this and my resume? will be fat (or should that be phat?) enough to perhaps get a few offers from a few other companies. My stock is going UP! And I couldn?t be happier about it.

I love you because part II
6. You'll drive miles, in the dark and rain to bring me money so I can put gas in my car.

7. While watching "Coyote Ugly" you'll mention that "The one in the middle is the best looking of all of them" (said "one in the middle" being Maria Bello playing Lil, the 30 something bar owner, and not one of the 'barely legel' 20 somethings strutting on top of the bar)

8. After mentioning said "one in the middle", you add "You know who she looks like don't you? Look at that JAW!" (have I mentioned that I have a strong jawline?)

9. After watching "Coyote Ugly" you complain that NONE of those girls were as good looking as Carrie-Anne Moss. (Who looks even MORE like me)

10. You'll turn off the Victoria Secrets fashion show after commenting "Everyone on of those girls is UGLY! They are WAY too skinny, they should go out and eat a doughnut or something".