To Be Hopeful in Trusting and Cleverly Suspicious

A wonderful life-twist has sent me twirling through a garden of varying aromas... some that leave me breathing more deeply, while other odors subtly tamper with my gag reflexes. My reemergence into the world of dating has truly been eventful.... leaving room for several stories that leave 'The Girls' laughing for hours. Having met several different eligible bachelors, they have all tended to be on the older side, confident side, wealthier standing, diverse professions/upbringings, interesting hobbies, and my reaction to all of them has been: utter amazement! Utter amazement in how hysterical they all.... we all are! I will bring you into pieces of my dating life so as to spare/share the lessons I have unintentionally-unregrettably gained in these last months.

Lesson #1: The older we become, the differences between men and women only magnify!!! As of late, I have found this to be a huge source of entertainment. I love that we think, breath, look, eat, prefer, perceive, reason differently. Though this reality can breed frustration, it is always met with luring curiosity.

My latest scenario sent me reaching into my primal-uncensored bag of protective honesty..... or what we can call..... sass at its best. After 4.5 years of trial and error.... to be hopeful in trusting and cleverly suspicious is the only way... as of now.

So, when you've met your match and are fidgety from confusion.... simply copy my e-mail word for word.....

"Honestly...... I think we're just two very busy people who are looking for two very different things. Though this has had it's share of fun, I think it's time we jump off this Bachelor-audition. I'm always down for hanging out but just wanted to clear up the confusing ground we're standing on. Have a great Memorial Day weekend-"

For the record, this latest man definitely left me breathing more deeply.

Perhaps.....

Another time another day another garden.

From my angle.....

So, another great day of Reiner-itis.

I was deeply involved in a conversation with one of my dear friends while driving home from work. Well, in the midst of discussing the latest beauty secrets I glimpsed down at my passenger floor board only to find that I had a surprise unwelcomed passenger.

While at a stop light I start screaming, "OH MY F-ING WORD!!!! OH MY F-ING WORD!!!" DISCLAIMER: 'F-ing' is truly what came out of my mouth... the Lord probably did not shine His face on that one nor did the element of class prevail, but at least I refrained from using the real deal.... unless I'm talking about Bin Laden!

My now panicking friend thought I had been in a huge collision to which I nearly had as I swung my car into the nearest safe-haven....7-Eleven. From my angle, in clear-broad daylight, I was escorting a baby tarantella!

As my horror escalated and voice got higher in pitch, I dashed out of my car to find my hero.

Now, let me pause to remind you where I am: 7 Eleven.... my selection of a 'hero' consisted of the following:
1. The typical painter/construction worker who fails to wear deodorant after a long day in the sun, wind, and dirt pit.
2. The 14 month :) pregnant women who has decided that the whole Britney Spears-no shoes thing is super cool.
3. And finally, the average teen male entourage who either are not of legal age to be cruising or fresh off the press license carriers engaging a four-block radius with Eminem.

So, my selection was thus.... until the 'man of- make...me...melt' whisked through the doors. With Aimee still on the line... my hero and I met in the middle and I convinced him that immediate rescuing was in order... while assuring him I was totally serious and that he was not on TV.

We..... being he rushed to the scene... did some investigating and emptied the floor mat of the horrible furry creature. Able to breath a little easier.... I said (in a very genuinely dramatic way, of course),
"Wasn't he just HUGE..... do we think he's dead or alive?"
Hero: "I think he's dead."
Me: "What do we think he was?"
Hero: "I do believe he was a...... GRASSHOPPER."

A moment of serious silence and reflection took place. Thankfully his voice was rather soft and totally full of respect as he announced the brand of passenger, but I'm sure a few curious folks over-heard due to the mini crowd I obliviously drew. I will spare you my reasons for confusing a grasshopper for a terantella, but let me assure you they are totally legitimate! We both laughted a little, I climbed into my exterminated car only to hear Aimee say, "I can't believe you, you kill me, you absolutely kill me!!!" Well, you'd think I'd want to kill myself after something like this..... but it's just another day.

Can you imagine the conversation he had with his friends.... "So, I met this girl......."

Famous Last Quote

In response to the secret rubber band theory, "The only rubber band he's going to see is the one he smacks on his own ass as I prance by!"

This, my dear is free for all kinds of interpretation!

Tired Little Muscle

At the close of each day, as I climb into my perfectly soft heaven-sent bed I find that I am completely and utterly exhausted! Not really from the stress my job naturally carries, nor from the heavy life I balance outside of work, and not entirely from the physical strain I self-infict on my body.

At the end of the day, my mind was the part of me that would surge full force ahead into the land of dreams. Now the muscle that wishes to go on an unending vacation is the tiniest by far: my tongue. To sit in silence is a rare delicacy... to experience empty air would be the most beautiful of symphonies.

At this stage of life, this is a crazy, but an ever-present reality... almost humorous in its conviction! For my tongue to be more tired than my mind! Now that says something....

GO BACK TO SCHOOL...... well, I just might.