So several weeks ago (two to be exact) a lady that I worked with in my old position called me and said that she had someone that really wanted to meet me.

You remember him... gweedo. Mr. slicky hair - neatly trimmed mustache and goatee - pinky ring - bracelet - AND necklace.

Now... I realize many of you do not know me except for this blog - but I must ask you... what about me would equal a guy that wears jewelry?

No.

And remember I told my friend that he seemed nice, but was not my type.

All right... cut to yesterday. I have a voicemail. "Snidget, this is X Y, please give me a call at your earliest convenience."

Umm... okay... I was thinking damn... what have I done? It's obviously an LTC number at another campus... but I don't know who it is.

So I pick up the phone and call. X Y answers. "Hello"
"Hello... XY?"
"Yes..."
"It's Snidget"
"Oh hi..."
"um... hi..."
{awkward silence}
"Remember... I'm ann's friend..."
{light bulb goes off in Snidget's head} "Oh yeah! {then in more of a groan} yeah...."
"So it's been a long two weeks.."
"What?"
"Since we last met.. you know it's been two weeks..."
"No.. I didn't realize that."
"Yeah... So I was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch..."
{Snidget winces as she finds herself saying...} "umm... okay... like when?"
"I was thinking today"
"oh... no... I can't do today..."
"Okay... well what day works better for you..."
"I guess I could do Thursday..."
"Okay great.... why don't I send you an email and you can send me one back and tell me where you want to go that day..."
"all right..."

DAMMIT! Why didn't I just say no.

So I kept going back and forth yesterday... Should I go? I could make it clear that I just want to be friends... But I have a bad feeling about this one...

I send him an email at 7 this morning telling him that something has come up and I can't go.

Morning goes by - no reply email from him - GREAT! Maybe he got the hint. So I leave and run some errands at lunch, come back and oh I have not only an email, but I also have a voicemail.

The email only has "What day is better for you?" in the body.

The voicemail is sounding desperate "*Please* give me a call back..."

I figure it's okay to blow this one off, right?

I knew I had a bad feeling for a reason.

You know again - sliding doors.

Today I get this IM:

Hi... How R U?

Snidge note: LB, please stop with the Prince-iriffic abbreviations.

I say that I'm fine and ask how he is doing.

He's doing good, wants to know if I'm in town next week and if we could do lunch.

I say yes, that sounds fine.

Later, Mr K and I studied the situation and have decided that Meg (old manager) has put lunchbus up to this.

I don't know why I'm so obsessed with "motives" and "angles." I mean maybe the guy just wants to go to lunch for fuck's sake and here I am thinking he is being all sinister.

So Snidget will go. And she will be nice. And she will laugh and smile. And she will try very very hard to give the lunchbus a break.

Something about being single... it makes others think that if they know someone (ANYONE) that is single then you should *totally* meet them - and MY GOD - you two have SO MUCH IN COMMON.

When in reality the only thing you probably have in common is that you both are single.

Let's cut the scene over to today - LTC is having a HYUGE event to raise money... I get a phone call from a girl that I worked with at my other job - she wants me to meet this guy - and he "REALLY wants to meet you."

I all ready have flares going off - but I think - okay. Just go. Stop being stupid.

Nevermind that he's depending on a "friend" to hook him up (ALWAYS A bad sign)
NEvermind that he seems to incredibly desperate as to want to really meet me after just hearing a description
Nevermind that I'm just not in the mood today.

So I go.

Dude is COMPLETELY not my type physically. (jewelry anyone?) And he came on EXTREMELY strong. "Hey do you like coldplay? I was thinking of getting tickets for the show in Nashville this weekend." "Hey, you have a son? Cool, I have two kids too." "No WAY! You like Aimee Mann! I LOVE her."

That last statement made me sit back, look at him evenly and then say, "Wow. Really? We're practically like... separated at birth. Like...ohmigod"

He didn't pick up on it.

UGH.

Again - I go back to chemistry - and it's either there - or it's not there.

I just made the best damn noodle salad that there ever was. Recipe (to be credited to Real Simple magazine) is below.

But aside from my master culinary skills...

Ever get to the point, where you are just like ENUFF! BASTA!

I'm to that point.

I'm kind of tired of the crazies. And they are everywhere.

Cut to earlier today, outside of the Target... Snidge is running in for some photo paper for her parents' printer. Lady sitting outside on bench, fully made up, the necklace matches the bracelet matches the earrings - you get what I'm saying. I think she even had one of those Brighton purses (God forbid). She is talking into a cell phone and is near tears and all that Snidget can hear is "I mean she's just crazy! And she won't get help!! I mean we've just tried and tried and we've ALL TALKED TO HER.. but she just keeps having these crazy spells!"

I see... kinda like sitting in front of a Target spilling your guts into a cell phone for all the world to hear.

I go back to my parents house, and my brother decides to tell me (or maybe this was last night, hell I can't keep it all straight) that my sister's bowling alley (part time, mind you) boyfriend is now introducing her as his "fiancee."

Right...

Do I need to remind you guys that my sister's divorce was only final back in February?

And do I need to remind you that neither one of them really has a full time job with benefits?

So then I get to listen to my mother go nutso as she maps out the next three years of my sister's life and all the various possibilities.

In the end, she says "Well... I'm sure your father and I will have to bail her out."

UGH!

I mean it has just been one of those weeks, where wherever I turn, there's a crazy and a crazy's story... and you know... I just... have had it UP TO HERE. So many people are so ready to dump their nutty stories on you, and it just weighs you down... do you know what I mean?

I just want to say, look people... I was in therapy for two years... in the words of the great band ELO, don't bring me down, man. I'm just now (at times) starting to feel halfway normal in this world... like MAYBE I can function... MAYBE I can - you know - socialize with people that don't end up crying at the dinner table, or girls that don't throw their drinks in an ex's (or not so ex's) face.

I should also take the time to mention that my mother and father are convinced that I am "unhappy" and that they are "concerned." And okay... that might be kinda true... I have been in a funk... but I'm working my way out of it.

And so today.. TODAY... my mother says this (and I almost want to clock her)- "Snidget... are you unhappy because you don't have anybody?"

For fuck's sake.

Mom... I appreciate the concern. But for Snidgey - there ARE FAR WORSE THINGS THAN BEING ALONE such as being trapped in something with the wrong person (which I have experienced first hand).

Anyway... there's my Sunday rant. Below is the recipe:

open it up »

nice, right?

We went to Tae Kwon do then we stopped to get some stuff at the grocery and that's when the incident happened. Right there on aisle 5 near the sugar and spices. Thank God he didn't do it at home. That's all I'm saying.

So anyway...

Today I was reminded of why I never stopped to become a stay at home mom... NOT that there is anything wrong with that at all.. Cuz there's not... but for me - I needed to keep moving.

There was a girl that resided in my old cube farm (at least for a little while) that was a CrazyAssBitch (CAB). She would get into it with her husband and scream out "SHUT UP YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!" at the top of her lungs and then slam the phone down on the receiver, then take off... She had one of the IT guys constantly call different numbers to either "see who picked up the phone" or so that he could "pretend to be" her husband. It was INSANE. She was a train wreck... and her husband was too.

So yeah... in the middle of all of that drama - and it was at least weekly - she tells me one day that she's going to quit her job and just be a stay at home mom.

Now - seeing as how I have witnessed the arguments and the cursing and the screaming and "FUCK YOU"s and all of those nice-ities, I asked her "CAB, do you think that's a good idea?" Cuz you know... I could just see her quitting her job and then something happening and them getting a divorce and then... what would she do? I mean she was leaving a pretty cushy job at the LTC - why quit?

But quit she did, and several months later, I'd run into her at what is now the Macy's in town, and she would tell me that yep that SOB had cheated on her and yep, she was divorcing his ass, and yep, she was taking him for all that he was worth, and yep, she needed a job.

Well I can tell you, the LTC was glad to be rid of her and they were not about to hire her and her dramatics back. So she looked and looked and looked for another job - and then somehow her old phone number at the LTC had gotten forwarded to my phone - so I was getting calls from attorneys and collections agencies and credit companies... it was horrible. So I can only imagine where she is today.

I mention all of this because today I ran into a friend of my mom's. She's 56 and has been out of the work force for thirty something years and is now looking for a job - because she too is a victim of divorce.

It just made me realize how very important it is for us women to protect our financial independence... and our credit... and everything that allows us to stand on our own two feet. It's important... In this life, you can only trust yourself.

Do you ever feel as if you have travelled out of a large dark tunnel... and when you make it through to the other side, you turn back and look at that tunnel and you wonder why you had to make the journey so hard on yourself - when all you had to do was put one foot right in front of the other.

Letting something go is difficult when you've always been taught not to give up. Hang in there! Don't be a quitter!

But there's a great art to walking away - and no one sees the beauty of it.

I'm out of the tunnel... and my eyes - because I was so long in the dark - are readjusting to the light.

We only accept the love that we think we deserve.

It feels good to look forward to better things.

open it up »

But I do subscribe to some of her thoughts on relationships:

From this month's glamour (and I WANT that shirt that Jennifer Connelly has on the cover)

To find the right one, you have to be the right one
The more growth you experience on your own, the healthier you are and the healthier the person you attract will be.

Couldn't have said it better Alanis - which is WHY... WHY... I said that right after I separated, all I attracted were bad guys, because I WAS in a bad spot myself.

I'm trying to get out of that bad place... I think sometimes I am out of it... but then I always end up doing something stupid and I wonder just how far I've really come.

Put yourself first
Sayeth Alanis: I used to think I had to constantly give with every person I was with. Now I'm better at boundaries.

Okay.. I agree with this.. mainly because I see how many of my friends just give and give and give, and I don't know that they ever really get anything back.

Trying to fight this tendency myself... I'm a giving person by nature, but I'm getting MUCH better at drawing lines in the sand and saying, DO NOT CROSS THIS. *ThIS* is unacceptable behavior and you will not treat me that way.

The first time you do it, it sort of empowers you - because the guy either thinks you are a total bitch and storms off, or he takes a step back, says Fair Enough - and it's never an issue again.

Resist the urge to cling
Alanis sez: Ryan often needs to spend an afternoon alone, just doing something witout me.

I'm not typically a clingy person... I don't have to see you every day... This is a nonissue for me. In fact, I tend to get sick of people and need my space. It's the Snidge way.

I'm still here... waiting for the hurricane.. and actually kinda hating that I'm missing the coverage on the news. I'm sure Snidgedad is GLUED to FOX watching.

Yes... they are big Fox fans... Look... I can't escape my plaid background, regardless of what I think. You're reading the girl that spent her summers caddying at her grandfather's country club while she was in high school. (good tips).

Suck it.

I think that it's very interesting that each and every single male that I tell my sad (pathetic) tale to, sits back tells me what I don't want to hear, and then cocks a brow, looks at me, and says:

"But you knew that, right? ... you're a smart gal."

Yeah... I know that.

I know all of it.

I know what's going on... even though, probably the other party, doesn't know himself.

I don't think it's intentional... but hell maybe it is. At this point, what the fuck do I know.

Hard to accept being dumb, you know?

Snidget will allow the Wad to wear a t-shirt with "I'm with stupid" and an arrow pointing at her.

But it sucks.

Funny thing about clarity... it can only come after you've been through the land of the confused. And I'm about ready to buy a first class right out of that place.

You know here's the thing...

staying in something... staying WITH someone... or hanging in there... when you have no business doing so - that's not a sport. No one issued a challenge.

Hey, the harder it gets, and the shittier you get treated, just means that you love them all the more!

No... it doesn't.

It means that YOU think that you deserve to be treated that way. And you're too afraid to ask for anything more.

Hard to let go - hard thing to learn.

and it's a matter of respect, right? Because the days where Snidge can still hold her head up over the way she conducted herself are limited.

And that's key - for me.

It's key for every relationship in fact... I mean yeah yeah... love... okay... passion...whatever...

NO.

Once the respect is gone, the rest is out the window.

No matter what... no matter how things ended.. no matter if the guy hated my guts when I left the relationship... no matter if he was jumping from one lilypad to the other... you still could see that there was a bit of deference there.

So I must ask myself... at what point does he lose respect for me... if he hasn't all ready? At what point, am I just the chick that is happy being second best?

And me? Respect is a two edged-sword. At what point do I lose respect for him? Staying in a relationship where he takes it and takes it and takes it... and then turns around and accepts apologies and allows her back in. At what point does he become less of a man to me because he can't stand up and put his foot down? Because if he truly wanted to fix things... truly... he'd be more proactive rather than reactive in his approach.

Just this snidget's opinion.

But my concern, at least for today, is not for him and her - and their doomed partnership where neither one of them (believe me when I say this) has been faithful - one maybe to a lesser degree than the other... but disloyal nonetheless.

My concern is for me and my well being... and my own self-esteem.

Do you get what I'm saying?

So I've got to find my way out of this maze and I will.

I hope he finds his way... before it's too late.

And that's all I got to really say.

I always hate admitting when he is kinda right:

Dating the Snidget seems to be like playing poker, with blank cards, in the dark, for unknown stakes, with a dealer who SMILES ALL THE TIME...

Probably a fair statement. Okay it is fair.

Damn you WAD!

In the meantime, enjoy this.

"or if yo Boo be workin' it den let me tell her "Maleefa, shit bitch you is fine" for $21 (plus shipping)."

Really, the perfect gift for any and every occasion. Do take the time to read the descriptions. They are quite fine.

Weird. Weird.

Not a download of information as I thought it would be. Was a date. And even though I suspected it.. I wish I had kinda known that... I would have gone with more of that attitude.

Maybe it's a good thing that I walked in clueless.

The conversation was okay... He was okay... Weird send off.

And that's all I really have to say. I don't feel strongly one way or another.

I don't know that there really is a story behind the name.... Except that whenever I was in college, me and my friend Ash would always skip our Ancient World Civilizations class for lunch... and we would call my car the lunchbus... Stupid... but it's another one of those made up words that I like to say. It just sort of feels good coming out of your mouth.

So anyway...

I hear from a friend that LunchBus has been asking around about me at the old office. Nothing too suspicious... very innocuous quesitons such as: how is she liking her new job.

I still think that this could all be some office politic move.

P.s. Is it sad that I can't just take this for what it is and am busy trying to find some ulterior motive behind it all?

Yeah that's what I thought too.

New job... it's kicking my butt emotionally today. I'm drained. I came home from dinner with a friend and fell out for a couple of hours. Now, i'm sure that I will be up for the rest of the night.

So...

I have a story tonight...

Let's travel back in time two years ago, and I was speaking to an older gentleman friend of mine who had been involved fairly seriously with a gal. Everything looked to be aces... they were MADE for each other... and one day he came in, stopped by my office and told me that it was over... I was so heartbroken for him. And so I said, well what happened? And he said that she wanted kids... he couldn't have kids... and it was a problem. It was something that she could not get past. And so stupidly, I offered up the ol' Hey.. hang in there. There will be other girls. And he just sort of shook his head and told me that he didn't think so... and he just didn't want to do it anymore. He was done.

Now let's fast forward to current time.

I think I've made it pretty clear on here that I don't believe in love at first sight... I really just don't.

But I do believe that there are people that come in and out of your life (and they can be friends or they can be lovers) that you have that instant "hey... wow," kind of feeling - and Snidget has only experienced this twice... really... although the first time I question as to whether it was really just a physical 'wow' or not.

And obviously... the physical attraction is part of it... but it's a deeper and cooler thing too... It's this electrical charge... it's a magnet...

It's someone being able to put your thoughts into words.

And when you get that with someone... it's crazy... but a good crazy, right? It blows the mind... and most importantly, it just feels right. Or it feels like it certainly has the potential to be right.

It's that "feeling of rightness" that keeps you in the game...

But what if this person that you have this electromagneticblahblahblah thing with has one flaw... and it's not like they bite their fingernails... It's like a big damn flaw, okay?

Achilles heel - the tragic imperfection to something that otherwise might just... fucking work.

And that's what I got... that's what snidge has right now... staring at her right in the face.

Something that could be really good... and really right... except for this one thing.

And it's a big thing... a thing that I can't wrap my head around.

So I can ignore it... and keep going... just trudge straight ahead...

Fuck it all! I'm going in!

Or I can sit back... and I can wait... But you're waiting for what? For something that might not happen... and meanwhile life is going on...

And the last choice of course is just to walk away... because unfortunately, this is a story that I can't write the ending to... This ending is out of my control. This ending might just really suck, you know?

"I've got to let it go now... or it will drag me under..."

But the draw and the temptation of the "wow" is strong... and it's seductive.

And while the stakes are high - the payoff could be big - at least for awhile.

So even though... I knew the problem was always there, I chose to ignore it - albeit stupidly. And so I get deeper and deeper into it.

What can you do?

You play out all the scenarios...

I look to my left, and I see ruins... and I look to my right and I see a possible disaster... and I look straight ahead - and I just... see being able to be... Just be. Because that's part of the 'wow' too you know? It's just.... comfortable.

Though it breaks all my rules.. This flaw does... it doesn't pay attention to my codes... My standards...

I want to believe... I do.

I got to get out of this town for a few days. You guys have a good fourth.

Bloody Mary night went over well and I even made falafel - which I was craving for some strange reason.

Regardless, we moved the party to the venue where the band was playing later that evening. Let the freak parade begin for Snidge!

Let me set the stage:

I'm standing at the bar waiting for a beer, and this super creepy guy starts talking to me.

"Hey, you know about Saturday right?"

yeh, pal, I've heard of it, comes right after Friday, huh?

"Yeh, it's my birthday and my going away party. Ya know, I'm the one who got Phil in that house. And I set up that whole thing with Phil and the {indistinguishable word}.”

And yes, you guessed correctly...I have NO FRICKIN IDEA who Phil is. Or who this guy is. Or what the hell he's talking about. Except that I'm noticing that he is wearing what appears to be a uhm, fedora? And that he's missing a bicuspid.

Anyhoo, so I'm all "hey, well happy birthday. That's great."

His reply: "So can you make it? On Saturday?"

Me: "Yeh, I got a lot to do on Saturday. You know, stuff."

Enter fedora's friend: "Wow, what is that scent? What perfume are you wearing?"

Me wearily: "Me."

Fedora friend momentarily confused: "Me? Oh, man you should have that bottled. I'd pay to smell that."

Yeh, I'll get right on that.

The best part is that the guy on the other side of me hears the whole thing and when I say "Me", he guffaws and nearly falls off his barstool.

My god. It never ends. I mean, it's a bar. You can't smell anything but smoke and peanut oil french fry grease in that place.

Course I run into a whateverwhatever - why? Because M-town is that small... and I can't seem to get away from the crazy.

Let me tell you what NOT to do to get on Snidget's good side.

At the party... a lecherous fellow (we shall call him letch boy from here on out) kept hanging around. Jay, my friend's boyfriend, was obviously not pickin' up on my "HELP ME" vibes and was just sort of eggin' the guy on.

J: So Snidge did you play golf today?
Snidge: {trying to ease herself away from letch boy} yes... with my brother this morning.
LB: You play golf? sexy.
Snidge fights the urge to roll eyes
LB: We should play sometime.
J: Snidge would kick your ass.
LB: {in a very gross tone} maybe I would like that.

Okay... gross... and stop it. Just... really.. stop. I mean it. Stop.

I don't ever really understand what you guys think is going to happen when you act like that. I mean, what do you think I'm going to say? "Oh baby, yes... take me here. Right now."

Thankfully another boy, we shall call drummer guy (who is a friend of a friend) was at the party and recognized me. So he came over and I told him that I didn't think this crowd was his scene (because it wasn't) and he agreed. I still am not sure how he ended up there...

Anyway... it was mostly people from work... except for drummer guy... who is a drummer and works at a drum shop here - hence the nickname (clever, am I). We both decided that we didn't want mojitos and would rather be drinkin' it up somewhere else, so we blew the party and went to this place in midtown where you can sit outside.

It was a nice night and it was just NICE to be able to sit there and talk to some guy about stupid shit that doesn't matter and have him flirt with me in a not gross way.

So there.

I'm not sure what this says about Mr. K and myself, but our exes are now dating.

Not my ex-husband... a boy i dated - if you want to call it that. I prefer to tell people {insert monotone voice} "It was a bad time for me. I was weak. I was in a bad place... yadda yadda wonk wonk"

So filipino boy is dating the ex of Mr. K that me and Andrea fondly call Spongey.

Why?

Because her hair is long and straight... and it would be nice hair... if she didn't dye it so much that it is practically white - and therefore, we think that it must either repel water or just soak it up and never really get wet.

It's just weird... sponge like hair. Thus spongey. Don't f'ing ask... Andrea and I were drunk the night we came up with that nickname.

ANYWAY

the filipino is probably the CRAZIEST boy I ever dated, and I think Spongey was pretty crazy for Mr. K.

PS I know I never told you that I thought she was crazy, Mr. K. But she was. The bitch was fuckin' nuts. I'm sorry.

Plus - she was rude. Like, Mr. K and I sat right beside each other, right? She would come over and Mr. K like introduced us FIVE times at least. But when she would saunter over to talk to him, the bitch would keep her back to me. Completely! She never would give me a sideways glance. Like I didn't even exist over there. HOW RUDE!

I know your mama taught you better than that, skank!

And the filipino was just nuts... in all kinds of ways. Like okay... come here.. {snidge lowers voice and motions the readers in closer} in his bedroom... on a piece of plywood supported by two saw horses, he had the entire Star Wars Return of the Jedi figurines and shit set up. Seriously! It was like... the planet of the ewoks and those giant walking things the storm troopers went around in. Okay, but here's the thing... he's like 35... Okay??? He's 35 and has a big jabba the hut in his bedroom and a Darth Vadar bank that says "Impressive, most impressive."

Do you see?? This is what I have to choose from in this god forsaken town! (back me up here Kaffy).

So let's just pray to the powers that be, that these two don't procreate.

But you know they're both so fucking crazy that they will. Jeez.

Shy = make the girl do all the work.

Disagree if ya want. But that's what I think.

Also... thanks to Gwen, who gave me the fabulous book, I have to say that if you like the girl enough, you'll get over it and get off your ass and ask her out.

Just my opinion...

I'm beginning to see the whole guy thing much more black and white than I used to. It really is as simple as: if he dug you, he'd email/call/make a point of seeing you. Why we girls want to complicate it by making up excuses is beyond me.

He didn't email... Wow... well maybe he was cleaning the top of his refrigerator off and it accidentally fell on top of him and he's been like that for days now and the phone is JUST OUT OF HIS REACH and he's lying there thinking of me but can do nothing because of the damned refrigerator.

OR

He didn't email, because he's not that into me.

And it's true, when you have that attitude things are much easier.

So... shy? Or just not into me enough to get past the shyness?

Oh and another thing - this whole "hey yeah, me and my friends are going here after work..."

No no... that's not an invitation to a date, cowboy. And I'm not going to appear magically at your side at the bar with your buds. No... you can put forth an effort and you can ASK ME to meet you somewhere.

And that's all Snidge has to say on this matter. It's tough love for Shy Boy.

So Snidget was looking cute tonight. She was.

Not in you know... a slutty way... but in a sort of... dirty school girl with an argyle sweater kind of way.

Observe:

See. This is me talking on the phone with Broad.

Here's the story, morning glories.

To make it easier on Boy, I said to him, as I was leaving the office this evening, "Hey... me and some friends are going to Squared tonight, you should stop by."

Ya know... I figure... I'll throw him a bone. Make it EASY.

What does he say?

"Yeah... well... I dunno... I'm kinda tired."

Okay fuck you.

So I go to the bar, meet Andrea. Who shows up? Yeah... Boy.

He's shy and awkward again. Barely speaks. Insists on picking up my tab.

I say, "Ho hum... gotta get on the road... long drive. Think I'll go."

Boy... this is your queue to say "Yeah hey... I'll walk you out."

And then Snidge might or might not allow a little sumpin' sumpin' to happen depending on how smooth you are and also how you look under those ghastly iridescent street lights.

No... he doesn't follow. He stays there!

You know what... I'm tired of this shit.

I have called a moratorium on all gooby boy behavior.

Yes... that's right. Snidge says, that if you like her, you'll just come out and say, HEY! let's go out. Or HEY! I like you... or HEY! You're hot, let's go back to my place.

Because Snidge does not chase. She doesn't. And I'm not making it easy anymore either. You got to spell it out from now on.

Those are the rules. Shyness... bah... whatever. Get over it.

Either fish, or cut bait.

Boy: So where do you live?
Snidge takes deep breath and starts to repeat what she has told him twice before.
Boy: oh oh oh! Wait.. you told me.
Snidge: Right.
Boy: Yeah I'm moving soon.
Snidge: Cool.
{Snidge waits to see where then has to ask} Where?
Boy: Oh to the island to the Oak apartments
Snidge: Oh cool, yeah those are nice.
Boy: Yeah.. maybe you can come to the pool or something this summer.
Snidge: Maybe so...

Maybe I scare the boys...

And really who would want to date me, knowing that I'm just going to turn around and make fun of them on my blog?

is trying to ask me out... but then he sort of backtracks.

Conversations go like this:

Boy: So... what are you doing this weekend?
Snidge: Nothing

{insert a minute or so of us just nodding at one another and not saying anything}

Boy: So... yeah... I'm probably going out this weekend
Snidge: Where are you going?
Boy: I don't know... somewhere.

{insert pause in conversation}

Boy: So... are you busy this weekend?
Snidge: No... I'm not. (says slowly.. because she doesn't think he understood her the first time)
Boy: Yeah... I'm not either. Nothing really going on.

ARRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!! *Snidge beats head on desk*

Boys... boys... stupid boys.

So... it's inflection time.. (infliction you ask? No no, I say... inflection! but sorta the same thing.)

Ever since last week, I've been trying to get my mind back in the right spot.

See... we're all made up of patterns right? All of us. Part of the beauty of therapy is actually BREAKING the bad patterns.

My therapist, Betsey, was a little Jewish woman... pudgey... dark hair.. wore these big thick glasses. I'll never forget this.. I'd only gone to her once or twice... and I was talking about some guy at work and she stops me. Puts down her book, sets aside her glasses, and looks at me.

She says: Snidge... listen to me. I want you to stay away from men right now. I want you to go the other way. Do you know why? Because if you got involved right now it would be in a disastrous relationship probably with a married man and it would have a horrible effect on your esteem and well being.

And I remember leaving her office and thinking fuck you, lady. You don't know me! You have no idea who I am.

But she was right. And she continues to be so... until I break this habit of always going for the wrong guy. ALWAYS.

And not only that, but at the time I was on a pathway to deep depression and self-destruction.

So, when I first met Lo-Cal, I had also met another guy. We'll call him Billy. Billy was great.. he was a great NICE guy, who wanted nothing more than to take me out to dinner and treat me NICELY.

And I kept telling billy, you don't want to go out with me.. trust me. I'm bad news. I'm in a bad place.

And he would say, Bad Place, I'll be the one that decides that. I can take it. Don't worry about me, Bad Place.

And of course, I shit all over him in favor of Lo-Cal.

And so I was thinking about Billy this weekend and thinking, man that's the guy that I SHOULD have been with. I mean granted there was no chemistry there - and I do believe you must have that. But still.. he was a nice, decent guy.

And Lo-cal was not a nice, decent guy. He was a dickhead.

And you know what... the filipino that I dated... not a nice guy either - also had an ex that was hanging around.

Indy? He was a nice guy, I do believe that... but hello? EX-girlfriend.

Mistake of Chicago? Ex.

Are you seeing the pattern?

I put myself in these no-win situations. And who knows why in the fuck I do it. Maybe I'm afraid that something might actually (God forbid) work out.

So I heard this song today (thanks lu!), and I thought.. damn... I totally could have written that song.

If I was still an aspiring songwriter, I WOULD have written that song.

I've got to pull myself out of this funk... and stop wasting time looking back...

and I need to make wiser decisions... and stop getting myself into stupid situations where I end up questioning my worth.

So yeah.. Snidge is back in her bad place... but she's scratching and trying to climb her way out of that bad place. I don't want to go back there. I don't want to be that bitter, mean girl. I don't like her.

open it up »

"Are you the keymaster?"

I almost answered, "I am Zuul."

So... a couple of people have said, Snidge... you are attractive... you are successful... why no boyfriend?

The answer to that is, that there is no one cool enough for me in this city. And if there is, I can not find him. Granted, I haven't been out searching in awhile... but I can say with some authority, that the boys in this town are lacking - in a lot of areas.

But this morning as Wilson and I were driving towards my office, a guy in a suit and on a Harley zoomed past me.

What's this???? The perfect dichotomy between zipped up professional and born-to-be-wild-man.

I tried to catch up to him at the light to get a closer look. Not bad looking... didn't care for the socks he was wearing, but I can work with that.

So as I was sitting there imagining what our free spirited children would look like (I'm joking), I kept thinking - dammit look over here! Don't you see me? I'm groovy girl Snidge... furcated, complex and confusing in my own right.

Cause while I like to pretend to be all independent and self-sufficient, truth of the matter is, groovy girls get lonely too.

Wherever ya are, have a good day Harley man. And just know that for at least one minute... you gave this girl hope.

Sorry for the blip.

I'm back.

You know I've said this before... but i'll reiterate.

It's the whole:

Snidge you are smart enough
snidge you are successful enough
Snidge you are interesting enough

But snidge... you fall short.

Let's face it. Cupcake girl I am not... nor ever will be. I am groovy snidge... mother of turtle... I've got my own style... and most of the boys aren't real sure what to make of me around here.

This is why though... that snidge spends her time on home improvement and drinking beer on her back patio while Turtle swings on his swingset.

There are no real men in this town. Do you see? People, do you see what I deal with? Stupid little frat boys still playing boys club. And they are all afflicted with a disease that ends in "ness" and begins with "selfish."

In the words of Bonnie Tyler, "I need a hero."

My friend Wendy found a decent boy, but he was fresh off the train from Phoenix.

I'll have to import in. Or export myself out.

I know that you guys have the 'jerk' gene. I Know this. Believe me. There is a certain amount of assholery to all of you... and it's something that we women will never be able to fully grasp, but I have some idea. SOME.

But sometimes I sit here and wonder if it's just you guys being bastards, or if it's cluelessness?

Or hell.. maybe you just know which buttons to push and you push them to get us all riled up. Maybe it's fun for you. Hell I don't know.

But there's hurtfulness to it all. And I don't appreciate it.

The "girl" is some 25 year old that was hired just as I was leaving the ad agency.

Packaging. I'm so amazed at human behavior. Now, I won't deny the whole physical attraction thing. But it amazes me that people want to meet someone, date someone based on their looks alone. I mean, it really bugs me. A one-night stand, I can understand. Believe me, I do. It's what lo-cal should have been for me.

*DEEP BREATH* let it go... let IT go.

Serenity now... and a big martini.

Wow... so it appears that The Zero Boss gives topics out for people to blog about. This month you could write about lying, fornicating, or going home.

Well... check out this little jewel.

Sah-weet, mother, mary.... give me a moment... I need a moment to myself... *deep inhale... now exhale*

Okay... yeah... he's gonna make some gal happy.

/kahl-hel/ noun: the state of anxiety by a woman followed by a date or sexual rendez-vous where the said woman wonders if the man will call - and the man does nothing to ease the anxiety.
Symptoms of call hell: obsessive checking of phone messages, irritation at calls from friends, informing friends that the line must stay free, calling oneself to make sure that phone works properly, refusal to leave house in case one important call comes while away.
SEE ALSO: Delayed gratification, awkward partings, aftermarth of a date
ALSO: consult Appendix A, Eternal Questions. Secifically: Question 547: "Does he like me?" and Question 548: "does he like me, or does he like like me?"

Yeah so last night I got a call from my friend... oh let's call her Maggie. Maggie was going through call hell. And we've all been there, so I don't judge her, but I do like to think that maybe... possibly, I'm past all of that.

Met a guy, went on date with guy, spent night with guy, it's been a week, no phone call.

Why do you guys wanna do that?

Because you know Maggie is biting her nails, wondering what she did wrong, staring at the phone, wondering if she should call, wondering if she should drive by, wondering wondering wondering..

And last night she wondered to me for like... nearly an HOUR.

Until finally, I stopped her and said:

Maggie, is this guy like... really really hot?

She said no.

Maggie, is this guy like... really really loaded?

She said no.

Maggie... then why do you care, sweetie?

I mean seriously.

And I can't take credit for the above... my good friend Will asked me those SAME questions about a year and a half ago when I was obsessing over some stupid guy that wasn't even worth the gum sticking to the bottom of my shoe. And I was ruining a perfect night out with friends, by continually checking my cell phone over and over and over. RIDICULOUS. And I didn't even LIKE the guy. I mean he would take questions like, "What is dark?" and make it "What is dark?" He would ask it all philosophical like and it would bug the fuck out of me.

And when I see my friends go through it, it breaks my heart. All good girls who shouldn't be wasting their time on these FLAKES.

I am SERIOUSLY considering doing some sort of documentary on the bizarre mating rituals of humans and the whole "blowing off" phenomenon.

open it up »

So I was talking last night to a friend regarding the beauty of being single... and how much I like it, as of late.

I suppose part of the conversation was spurred by my reading a passage in a book about a woman that left her husband and spent the first night in her bed sleeping spread-eagled out.

I can relate to that.

There's something to being able to come and go as you please... not answer to someone... not feel like you have to check in... put up pink towels in the bathroom just because you want to... in fact, just paint the whole damned house pink if you want, because there is no man to tell you that it looks like the Barbie dreamhouse.

Who cares! You're alone... you are independent... you are woman... you roar.

Maybe I would feel different if I had actually had some GOOD dating experiences. But I can't say that I really have. The last one turned into a stalker-type scenario and that was no fun.

And another one before that thought that it might be fun to take me to Hooters for the first date.

And the one before that wasted my time by literally crying over the state of his life and how he had fucked up just about everything. I wish I hadn't comforted him and had just agreed with him, because he was... a fuck up.

But the one that really stands out for me is the English teacher. His mom had been an English teacher, as well... for twenty years. She had obviously spent more time making sure that he had correct grammar rather than teaching him how to press a shirt or clean dishes... or God forbid, treat a woman with respect.

He was fond of pointing out any time I made grammatical mistakes in my speech.

"Snidge, the phrase should be 'I am coming with you, am I not? Not, I am coming with you, aren't I?' No one says, 'I aren't coming'. Think about it Snidget."

I always thought it might be funny if, when in the throes of passion, I would scream out, "I'm coming, am I not???!!!" But I never did it.

Would have been funny though.

I mention him, because he taught me the Spanish word for 'whatever' which is Zapata.

Zapata Zapata Zapata.

So I mention this today... because I'm having sort of a "zapata" moment professionally... personally... Sort of just feel like throwing up the hands and saying "fuck it" Whatever will be, will be.

I mean I think back on things in my life, when I thought that if certain things didn't take place, that I would just DIE... and you know those things didn't happen... and I'm still here... and I'm a better gal for it, I suppose.

I get lonely... sometimes. I get down... sometimes... I wonder if I made the right decisions and I question this path that I'm on...

But today, I'm taking a deep breath and just saying to myself, Zapata.

Things will happen... things will work out... they always do.

Typical.

Maybe I will watch the dude this time:

Watch Oprah - Wed 04/27/05 The He's Just Not That Into You Revolution (PG)

He's back! New info from Mr. He's Just Not That Into You. Dating for months and he won't even call her his girlfriend. Plus...sex: the drastic mistake women make, and what you haven't heard. Then, over 40 and looking for love? A millionaire bachelor has a once-in-a-lifetime offer for you!

I wonder what the big sex mistake is. Not giving it up on the first date? BIG REVELATION!

What if *I'm* the one doing the using though?

I also want to say that both guys that pulled this with me subscribed to Men's Health.

Lots of shirtless, muscled guys...

I don't think I need to say anymore.

The important thing here to remember - to those of you girls that have faced this - is that it's NOT YOU. (Something that I sat around and thought about. Shit, what's wrong with me? What did I do? Am I not any good? - it's none of those things)

They are the freaks.

Believe me... there are plenty of guys out there ready to go for sex.

So andrea and I have a mutual friend that we sort of helped set up with another friend a couple of months ago.

They hit it off... spent every waking minute together... yadda yadda yadda..

Now the dude tells her that he thinks that they got serious way too fast. So they need to stop having sex.

*enter the sound of brakes squealing to a halt*

Yes yes... the guy doesn't want to have sex anymore.

Now you may be asking yourself, what guy does not want to have sex? What male, when offered, will turn down the pootie? (a reference to jerry maguire in case you couldn't tell)

I've got a confession to make. This has happened to me, too. Moi, aussi.

Guy is awesome... having fairly decent sex... then BAM! He seems to develop some sort of 'conscious' and doesn't want to fool around. But yet, still wants to go out... just no make out sessions.

Well what is the fucking point?

I mean that may sound harsh, but at the end of the date, even Snidge has needs.

I didn't realize today that most of you guys think that us girls equate sex with love. Hence the whole - "let me pull back because I don't want the bitch getting the wrong idea" scheme.

W-tee-F, boys? You just wanna hang out? Go grab some coffee?

Aren't you supposed to be pawing at us? Trying to unhook our bras and all of that other adolscent crap?

The EMO shit is getting so frickin' old. Please give me a red blooded man.

Today is Mark's day to stay with the Turtle. And he gets the *fun* day, because Turtle has been puking since 10 pm last night.

I wasn't going to bundle the boy up and have him crash at Mark's, so I told him (Mark) to just get his stuff and come ovr and stay at my house while I was at work.

No problems there - as I have cable, wireless internet, and a fully stocked fridge. (cheap bastard)

So Mark comes over and as Turtle is walking downstairs, he pukes again.

I tell Mark to take him upstairs and put him in the tub while I clean off the stairs.

I notice that Mark's attitude changes significantly towards me after he takes Turtle to the bathroom.

So much so, that I sit there and think to myself "Damn... what crawled up his ass."

We get Turtle cleaned off, get him settled downstairs on the sofa, and i go back upstairs to shower because I now have throw-up all over me.

I open the bathroom closet to pull out a towel and lo-and-behold, a Fact Plus pregnancy test is sitting right there at eye level.

I had totally forgotten that yesterday when Turtle was sick, I started cleaning out drawers. Found the pregnancy test (which I had to do as a precaution when I started all the peri-menopausal junk) and just threw it in the closet.

I'm sure that when Mark pulled out a towel for Turtle, he was thinking WTF???

ha-HA! Let him wonder.

I've never been attracted to good guys.

You know... the kind that you can take home to your mother.

I wish that I was... it would have saved me a lot of grief.

That said - today I was walking in to work and one of our programmers was standing outside. He's cute... about 25... too young for me, but I still like busting his chops every once in awhile.

He was out there taking a drag off of his cigarette.

Now I don't smoke... its one habit I never picked up - Thank God. And my father smokes... has struggled with quitting for years.

I do think it's a bad addiction - however....

There's something incredibly sexy about the way you guys do it. The way you talk with it hanging from your lip... the way you light up the cigarette... the way you hold the smoke in and then blow it out. It's all very James Dean-ish.

Am I the only girl out there that feels this way???

Yes yes... it smells bad... it's bad for you... blah blah. I would, if I got involved with you seriously, encourage you to quit.

But it's still sexy in a bad boy way.

Allow me to get on my soapbox for a moment:

My manager (one of them) called me today to ask how I was and to see about my review that we had rescheduled for tomorrow morning. After hearing me, she said she didn't want to be in the same room with me.

But we also got into a small discussion about the award thing Saturday night, and how she had run into her ex and I won't bore you with the details of that relationship but be assured that it ended badly.

So I said jokingly, "Where have all the good men gone?"

And she said, quite seriously, "There are none."

Now... I love men. I do. I love how they are goofy... I love how they are competitive and macho... I love how they act silly when watching sports... hell I just love 'em.

Granted, I have been on a string of shitty ones lately, but I'm not ready to jump on the man-bash wagon yet.

And the whole conversation just reminded me of what the book says. (and thank God, Gwen bought that book for me. I can't thank you enough.)

open it up »

My aunt just sent me an email to let me know that on her flight back from London, she gave my email address to a "tall Greek man," and showed him a picture of me.

According to her, he was FOB (fresh off the boat).

I mean what is he going to do, "I know you don't know me... but your aunt gave me your email."

Why do the women in my family think that I need help in the man department? First my mom... then my sister, now my aunt. I'm fine. Really.

Second. A friend of my brother's called. She wants to get a job out here where I work in marketing. She just said, and I quote: "She couldn't imagine taking a job for less than 70k."

This girl is 24 and has NO EXPERIENCE. She also wanted me to know that she was a democrat and that she had a 'passion for public relations.' Okay... I don't care.

I'm also about to break down and get me some chocolate and peanut butter ice cream. And none of you are allowed to say "Breaking Lent makes baby Jesus cry, Snidget" No... I don't want to hear it, because I think Jesus will understand that Snidge has been under a lot of stress and just really needs some chocolate.

So there.

at the visitation.

Oh.... probably because about ten lines up above where I signed my name was... the other half of the affair.

Sweet mother mary.

I didn't look for her... and I didn't see her.

I told you guys I went to high school with her right? That made it sting even more - cause I knew her.

UGH! Bad bad bad feelings and insecurities creeping up so late at night.

And here it is Valentine's day.

BAH HUMBUG to V-day!

Throw Rocks at them!

okay... an odd post after the previous... but I thought it needed to be lightened up around here...

Courtesy of the ever lovely Kaffy.

I was shang-hai'd into a Lonely Hearts Club Luncheon today - by someone who calls herself my friend... but I am doubting this now as no one should put another human being through what I went through.

Location - a midtown eaterie
Company - five available women - three recently dumped, one suspects a boyfriend is cheating on her, and little ol' me.

Ah yes... it was one of those meetups... Where half of the group stared forlornly out the window and the other half verbally beat the crap out of the other sex. Lots o' heartache and heartbreak in 2005.

Hard to sit there and listen to that really.

Cupid needs to get his act together - he's only got two more weeks.

And me? Aww... I've got my justice league power shield up this year to deflect the arrows.

And I don't know what it is... some sort of mid-winter funk maybe.

I got home from the Target and decided that I might lay back down for a nap. It was 3... and I had just gotten up at 11... go figure.

But when I went upstairs and got underneath all of my blankets, I remembered something that I hadn't thought of in a real long time and I thought I would share it with you men out there.

When I was in college I dated a guy on the baseball team named Zack and we dated about this time of year. I think I was a sophomore. Anyway... he was big on naps in the afternoon... specifically on Sundays. He lived in this little tiny apartment off campus with another guy. But I would go over, and put on one of his t-shirts and we would get in bed and just rest.

Okay... we fooled around some (a lot), but what I remembered... was just the way he would hold me. There are few things that you guys do as well as that... not all of you... but a lot of you have mastered how to hold a woman. And Zack.. for being all of 21... knew how to do it. His embrace made everything all right in the world.

I wonder whatever happened to Zack... and I hope that he has a wife or woman that appreciates his hold. I missed it this afternoon.

I'm sure that I'm going to get lots of virtual things thrown at me for asking this... but here it goes.

I've went out with this girl four times now. It's not happening for me. Can I just fade into black or do I have to actually say something?

So me and the GALZ was talkin' via the INTER-NET. And we were chattin' about the worse pickup line evah... and I think that I won.

See if you guys can beat me:

Army guy on leave at a bar somewhere in M-town. Chattin' up the Snidge.

open it up »

I really shouldn't be hung up on age... but as I sat there across from Nate last night, I kept thinking "you are so young.... My God... you are young."

Twenty-four working on his master's in geology (???) has the whole "I look like I just rolled out of bed" thing going for him. Nice nice nice guy. We even went through the Krispy Kreme at around midnight for a hot doughnut (he scored some points there).

We like the same music... there were no awkward silences in the conversation... perfect gentleman... was so cute when he insisted on paying for dinner. But there's something to be said about the age differences between a thirty year old and a twenty something year old... It seems to be a larger gap than say if I had been 38 and he had been 31...

But still... good time and it got me out of the house.

Well I'm not getting all tarted up for this boy, that's fer sure.

Look Bea, I'm crocodile girl tonight.

By the way, the smile is for Banky.

My mother works at Starbucks... nevermind nevermind if you don't know the whole story I will tell you later. My father is retired after working for years and years and they can't stand to be in the same room together - enough said.

So I go into Starbucks today to see if my mom is around and she's not, but the cute little barista boy that she works with - Nate - is there.

Nate is 24... he is cute beyond cuteness... dark hair... glasses... hot little young bod.

He chats me up often.

So I'm in there, being my usual mysterious older woman self (HAHA! laugh with me) and Nate asks me what I am doing tonight. I tell him nothing. He then asks if my ex has Turtle to which I reply yes.

Then he tells me that he gets off at 8.

And I just nod and ask him if he'll give me the extra shot in my tall latte.

And he says yes he will give me the extra shot, and would I want to go get sushi with him after work.

So I just sort of stand there and look around and then tell him, that yes... sure... why not.

Fuuuuuuuuccccckkk

I am going to dinner with a 24 year old tonight. HA HA HA!!

Sweet jesus. What is this crazy life I lead.

He is too fucking young and completely not my type. (And to you asshats out there that are saying, "what's your type Snidgey? Ex-girlfriend obsessed/engaged/loser/psychopath" I say STFU (Shut the fuck up)).

There was a time when I didn't know you... And
I didn't miss you then
at all

I know I said I wasn't going to write about this anymore (hey famous last words right?), but I have to. I just have to keep writing about this until I just have nothing left to say on the matter.

I got an email Thursday LATE from Lo-Cal... I knew that I would. And I won't type out the whole thing for you... but at the end he did say "When I think about the one that I let get away, I'm always going to think of you."

A little Hallmark card-ish yes... but you know we women eat that shit up. And I have to admit, it tugged at me for a moment.

You know.... I've gotten notes like this from him for the past two years... it's what has kept me in the game. It's that carrot that is dangled in front of me... the "hope."

I tell myself that I didn't even really LIKE him all that much. I was caught up in his looks and his credentials... but that's not true. I did like him. I could have loved him.

Finality is so hard. I took a long lunch yesterday and went downtown to visit with some friends. As I was walking out of THE parking garage, I saw his car - parked in the same place...

There's a great little place downtown to eat... It's owned by a little old lady that cooks up food the way your grandma cooked. And they have the best cornbread sticks there. Lo-Cal and I would go there once or twice a week. Sue, the lady that owned the restaurant and cooked, would tell us that she would cook for our wedding reception free of charge. She just had "this feeling" about us.

So my lunch buddy wanted to eat at this place - he had no knowledge of the history it had for me. I didn't want to go... I mean granted it's been well over a year and a half since I walked in there with LC... I just didn't know if I could do it.

But you got to face it head on you know? So I walked in and it was okay. No sign of LC... didn't even see Sue (must have had the day off). I had my usual lacy special with greens and a big glass of iced tea, and I was fine.

I keep going back to the shutting of doors... and keeping them shut... and did I do the right thing? And why am I so mindfucked over this one guy that treated me horribly?

Did I jump to conclusions too quickly at lunch? Should I have let him continue on with his story about the girlfriend? Maybe he was working up to a big crescendo of "And Snidget I just love you and I just want you to tell me that you'll be there if I break it off..."

Rigghhhttt.

That was not going to happen... he's never going to leave her. She's safe. She's easy. He doesn't have to think... She's predictable. She'd never question him, and she'd always do whatever HE wanted to do. Their life together will follow the pattern.

I can't promise that. Life is anything but predictable with me. And I can't say that I would never question or challenge - it's not my nature. I'm fairly shrewd in my observations... and I'm brutally honest at times. I said a lot of things to Lo-cal that I'm sure shook him up - just observations on my end. He leads a charmed life... without care or worry really. But I was REAL to him. I know that. We talked about things of substance. Our dates didn't consist of 'shopping.' We had something... I know that we did.

Ugh.. obsessing.

So now I sit and I wonder do I not give people a chance? Do I cut them off too soon? Jump to my own conclusions and damn everything else. And not just with LC... but with others too.

I keep arguing with myself. I go back and forth - and tell myself on the one hand that I can't judge all by a certain set of circumstances. 1 + 1, does it ALWAYS equal 2?

But you know... I have good instincts. GREAT intuition. I should trust that more.

And BOTTOM LINE - and this is the most important thing - I didn't like the way I was being treated. I don't deserve to always be second fiddle to cupcake for Lo-Cal. I didn't appreciate having Sean disappear on me after I was there for him - night after night, day after day, listening and trying to understand. I didn't like having Oxford boy constantly putting me in a position where I was choosing between time with him and time with my son.

So even if my assumptions are wrong (which they aren't... they ARE NOT - must trust the instincts), I wasn't being treated well - in some form or fashion. The relationships were one sided or HEAVILY leaning to one side.

I know that that is the case at times in relationships... it's not always 50/50... but it was like 95/5 ALL THE TIME.

I have needs too...

I won't compromise myself again. That's what the shutting of doors has all been about. Self-respect... love of self... all of that.

Okay I feel better now :)

Grab this one while you can it's a good one:

Metal and Steel - Bob Schneider

Here's the thing about swimming with sharks. You do it enough - you get damn good at it. And I know... I'm quite the pro these days.

This is the fucking last time I am ever going to write about these losers. I'm serious. I'm so fucking over it, it's not even funny. I've had it up to HERE (head flies up above head) with BULLSHIT.

And I don't care if this makes me sound petty... I don't care if you think I'm a bitch after reading this... I don't care. I just need to get it out.

Angry? You bet. I don't want this come across as a "Damn the man" kinda post. I love men. I just happen to be on a streak of shitty ones right now. (hey there are shitty women too... we're equal opportunity here at snidget.com)

And to those that will say, "Oh look - she thinks she's got it ALL FIGURED out... but she has no clue." You know what? Bring it. Just f'ing bring it. I *do* have it all figured out.

Let's examine the Lo-Cal relationship, shall we?

Let me give you some background information on him. LC and I found each other soon after I separated from my ex. We parked in the same parking garage - and hell I'll admit it. I stalked him - and he would admit - that he was stalking me as I stalked him. Our office buildings were side by side. I worked for a groovy ad agency downtown, he worked for one of the big investment firms. We began a flirty banter back and forth in the garage over our cars parking next to one another every day. That progressed into notes on the car - a lunch date - drinks after work - then dinner dates...

We dated for just over two months. And when I speak of connections... I speak of my relationship with LC. At times (and I'm not exaggerating here) I would look out my office window and see him looking out of his at mine. We would wave to each other. I knew two seconds before my phone rang that he was about to call. We GOT each other. We understood one another because we were both left and right brained - rational, but with a creative streak.

And damn he was funny. The secretary would come over my phone into my office and say things like: "Snidget, Bret Boone is on line three for you."
"Dianne... Bret Boone? Second baseman for the Mariners?"
"Well... I guess..."

I knew it was him... he did that shit all the time and as cheesy as it sounds it made me laugh. He was charming. My mother loved him. LC was a trust fund kid. Child of two very prominent doctors here in M-town. I don't even think he has to work. (This is important for later)

And he was handsome. Damn he was the most handsome guy I have ever been out with. Movie star handsome. Tall, dark... he had this one little imperfection, and it was a small little snaggle on his left front tooth.

He hated it. I loved it. I told him he should never get it fixed.

Perfect guy right?

But things didn't add up with him. They never did. We'd make big plans - and something would "come up." He would tell me that we didn't need to "define things" that we should have fun. This was all the while, emailing, calling, and "dropping" in my office unexpectedly to see me.

And you know what guys? Your grandmother was right. Actions DO speak louder than words. In fact, people pay more attention to your behavior than they do what you say. That's true WITH ANYONE. If you say, "hey I'm not going to jump off this bridge" while you meanwhile start climbing up on the ledge - well people are gonna think that you are going to jump. Simple as that.

And you would think, that this very intelligent woman with her MBA and a good job and fairly logical head on her shoulders would figure it out right? Wrong.

So I was out one night with my friend Kel. We were having drinks at a bar downtown, when in walked LC with little cupcake. A small petite blonde.

I was devastated... depressed for months. And just when I thought I was getting over him, he'd reach out and ping me. He'd leave a note on my car. He'd send me an email. He'd do these things telling me that he wanted to be friends.

In fact, that's what he tried to tell me today at lunch.

But let's get something straight on the whole 'friend' bit, okay? It's how we seduce ourselves. It's how we make ourselves believe that what we are doing is okay. That it's fine and we are on the up and up and hey... nothing wrong with being FRIENDS right?

Yeah there's everything wrong with that. Because I mean c'mon? You can't be friends with someone that you were that intimate with - and that you experienced a 'crash and burn' with. That's NOT what is going on.

So I played along with Lo-Cal today at lunch. Listened politely. We laughed, got caught up on each other's families... talked about the holidays... he expressed concern over my little brother going into the service... Everything was good. Just like OLD TIMES.

But no mention of the gal. No mention of her at all. She was the ghost at our table. There, but not there.

So imagine how awkwardly he fidgeted in his seat, when I finally just asked him about her: LC, what do you want from me? What do you want from me as a man that is engaged(?) to someone else?

And he threw out the F word. You know why? Because it was the only thing he could come up with, when pushed up against the wall.

Cupcake girl got a bad rap at lunch. She was 'shallow' and not very 'bright.' She didn't know how to take care of herself - depended on him financially. She didn't 'challenge' him.

This isn't the daily double, and we're not on Jeopardy. Challenge yourself fucker. I'm over that.

And you know he fumbled around while I looked at him. Told me that he "needed me in his life," he "valued" our talks, he "thought of me all the time." When I pressed about the fiancee/girlfriend (he never would admit that he was engaged to her), he said he just "didn't know what would happen there."

You know what Lo-Cal... I do know what's going to happen. You're going to marry the girl, live a miserable existence, and cheat on her MANY TIMES. You're on the fence right now... all it's gonna take is to find a gal that is agreeable to being the 'other woman' and you'll be ALL over it.

What's most disturbing is that he is so clueless, that he has no idea how OFFENSIVE what he is consciously/unconsciously (your guess) suggesting to me. The OTHER WOMAN is what ended my marriage. Why would I want to be that woman for him?

How did we end it? I rolled down Wilson's window and told him that the only thing that I ever wanted to hear from him now and forever is that he is sorry. Sorry for the way he treated me and continues to treat me.

And you know... I told you guys about what Betsey said about marriages and relationships... one person not fulfilling everything for everyone. I want to take it a step further - because in this society, I think we all want to live without limits. We all want to do whatever we want, and not face the consequences, or be accountable for the actions that we've taken. We hide behind a mask of passive aggressiveness and claim that we are acting in the right and are sparing the other's feelings. We don't want boundaries put upon us and we get defensive when we are called out. We want our cake and we want to eat it too.

And that's a sad sad state of affairs people.

but me? Well Snidge is "not takin' any jive in 2005" Nope. I've had my share. In fact, I think I'm good on the BS until 2008.

I have more to say... but this tidbit that took place at the end should suffice.

Snidget: So... I mean... what do you want?
Lo-Cal: What do you mean?
Snidget: Well you email me... you call me... you send me gifts... you haven't mentioned your girlfriend - or fiancee... or whatever, but I'm sure she's still around.

As a side note - this SOUNDS extremely familiar, n'est ce pas?

Lo-Cal: Well, I thought... we were friends.
Snidget: yeah... you know what? I don't need any more friends.

And I have more to say about all of this. But I'm slammed right now... so it will have to wait.

Broad here, yo, and I have a couple questions for y'all after the jump, because they may be considered TMI by some and I wouldn't want ol' Snidgey to be freaking out about why I'd bring such weirdness on to her site.

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Thanks Eric... I haven't edited.. or deleted... or anything like that.

I'm not the FCC and you aren't Stern. I leave you out there... just as you typed it.

I'm not deleting the comments either - thank you for your support.

I don't have a lot to say on the subject. I just don't.

Except that I feel stupid. Again. Fucking stupid for seeing the signs and continuing on.

You know... it's a well orchestrated play at this point... and I play the part very very well. Stupid girl. Stupid.

I WILL NOT do this again. This marks the third time. Three times with three different people. But the story is the same.

A guy, an Ex, and the Snidge. Three is not company, my friends. And it always turns out poorly for me (although I guess that is really debatable).

I just expect some honesty, ya know? Like... you know... TELL ME that you are back with the ex. Why do I have to find out the wrong way always? Don't try to keep the door open - thinking that you can just slide back in.

And the fact that it's still being denied... and that I'm expected to apologize for my assertions on something that we both know is true... that's whack.

That's all I've got to say. Well, no... that's all I *will* say. I've got other things to tend to. A child, a house, my career, my friends.

I can't waste much more energy on this - it SICKENS me.

Remember Fratastic? I'm sure you do.

Guy sits on the 'email task force' with me. Drives a Jeep with a big UT tire cover on the back... I swear, if he lifted up his pants leg, I would not be surprised if I saw his fraternity initials tattooed on his ankle.

He was just up here...

Conversation is as follows:

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So... I've got really coarse wavey hair. "Horse tail" hair as my grandmother calls it.

A little beauty tip for you girls that suffer the same fate. I go into the bathroom, take a little bit of hand lotion, rub it into my hands and then smooth it through my hair. It works beautifully... most of the time.

I just left a training session - where Russian Pig #1 was present. He is sitting next to me and keeps grinning broadly and looking at me. He also keeps motioning to his head (he shaves it). So I keep scrunching up my nose... and wrinkling my brow... and trying to figure out what in the hell he is trying to say to me when finally he leans over:

RP1: Sneedge... yuu gots somedeeng in your hair...
Snidge: Wha?
RP1: Your hair... (stops to grin again) dhere eeez somedeeng in eeet.

Snidge reaches up and sort of bats at her hair. Russian Pig #1 shakes head... still grinning like the cheshire cat.

RP1: I teenk yuu might need to go to dee battroom to geeet dhees out.

I frown, stand up and go into the bathroom, where a big white glob of lotion is present in my hair. I groan, brush it out quickly and then go back into the training room, red faced where Russian Pig is waiting - he's even patting my seat for me.

RP1: Right heere Sneedgey...

Snidge sits... does not speak.

RP1: Wow... what deed yuuu have for lunch, Sneedgey... huh? Yuu geeeting some action?

STFU MFer. This is for you.

And it's also indicative of my mood... as I have a really bad feeling about something today.

about Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice that makes me swoon.

He's really an ass to Eliza at first. Making some snide comment about how she is not handsome enough to tempt him.

But then he comes back later - pulls her aside and tells her that he must tell her how ardently he loves and admires her.

Okay it's sappy cheese stuff - but I LOVE Jane Austen... There's something very romantic about the courtship practices at the time of her novels. And I sort of dig the empire waist dresses and the pushed up boobs (or as my brother likes to call them 'globeys' - don't ask... I think it has something to do with Pee Wee's playhouse).

And hello... Colin Firth.... Grrrrooowwwlll....

Yes yes... *He* came to see me. The *he* from Chicago. The *he* that I went to see a month or so ago.

You'll remember we were going to Savannah... and then that got nixed... and then I was going to Chicago... and that fell apart... and so then we have M-town. It was a last minute thing... Thrown together willy-nilly. *He* drove down with his dog (who should really be *my* dog, because she loves me so). I showed *him* around my fair city... didn't get to do everything we wanted to do cause it was the holidays and all.

I had a good time... I think *he* had a good time. Maybe he'll come back...

For some reason *he* thinks I tell good stories... I don't know why. But *he* surprised me with a nice journal and a pen to keep in Wilson and write whenever the inspiration hits me. It was a very sweet and thoughtful gift. And I wrote in it today as a matter of fact.

What does it all mean? Fuck if I know. I'm taking it as it comes... and trying not to take anything for granted. Enjoying things for what they are and trying to keep myself checked at the same time.

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Great news!!!

The Ex called me today... he's all ready found an apartment and is beginning to move Wednesday - so I'm moving back in on Thursday!!! Hooray!! I really really am starting the new year out right. BACK in my own place.

Remember... I'm taking before and after pictures... Because I'm sure the place is a disaster. So I'll have my work cut out for me.

I also need some {cue the old man from the Family guy that uses the walker, am I the only FAN of that show out there???} big muscly arms to help me move back in. Though some regular arms will do just as well too.

I imagine I'll be cleaning more than anything. Yay!!!

Damn Viggo is hot.

Up above is the seat where my therapist sits whenever she talks to me. I'm sitting on a sofa across from her.

I tried to take a picture of some of the books on her shelf in the waiting room. Some of the more intriguing titles are: Women who love too much and The Dance Away Lover

Anyway... appointment today with my little Jewish therapist. I love her.

Today we talked about relationships... my FEAR of them. Absolutely petrified of getting hurt and putting myself out there... It's hard. And there aren't guarantees... there aren't any for anything.

The therapist offered me this bit of wisdom and I give it to you... it makes perfect sense to me... and it's what I need to remind myself every day so as not to take anything for granted.

Relationships are not about the past... they aren't about what's going to happen in the future either. Relationships are about the here and now... and what we see... what we hear... how we feel... how we interact with one another. That is what a relationship is. It's the present. Enjoy the moments that you have with the other person.

Do I look happy? I assure you I am not.

I am tired.. and out of it. Someone kept me up late last night and then proceeded to go to sleep when I left the computer for a few minutes to hunt something down.

Hey Muffin - Bite me.

Just kidding, sweetie.

OH OH OH!! Speaking of sweetie... I got my coat!!! An early Christmas present from him. Thank you thank you thank you!!! I promise to take pictures tonight before I leave town!!

I wrote a Haiku for the coat:

Coat is made for Snidge
Furry hood and cute buttons
Snidget is stylin'

And another

Coat goes to Nashville
My muffin, Sean, will be there
Thank you babe, you're sweet.

Okay okay okay... they aren't the best... but it's the best I can do considering the amount of sleep that I have gotten. Sue me.

But I love the coat so much... and I like the guy that gave it to me even better. You're the best, babe. Now... I need to run get some of those mojito truffles.

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I'm sitting here watching Sponge Bob... with Turtle... which has to be the goofiest show I have ever seen in my life. Probably why little Turtle loves it so. The show also reminded me to write...

Anyway... I wanted to say that one week from today I will be driving to a nearby city to meet up with him again. Just for the night... and just to wish each other Merry Christmas before heading out to our respective families. It will also be nice to see his little pup... who I fell in love with when I went to visit him. I think she likes me okay.

New Year's Eve will find me with him again. We're going to Savannah which should be fun. And you spend New Year's eve with your sweetie, shouldn't you? It's been years since I've been, so if you have any suggestions of places to eat or go, then just let me know. I hope that he will be able to get some good shots of Tybee island and the winter beach while we are there.

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And that guy called. You remember. The one that my mother is trying to hook me up with.

His message was awkward and went something like this:

"I am single, and heard you were available so I thought I'd give you a call"

Thanks Captain Obvious.

I also got this one:

"I was thinking we could get together and get to know each other"

BARF. Don't say things like that to me.

That's a phone call that I will not be returning.

Oh and before I forget... my mom called me yesterday and asked if he had called. I told her "NO" to which she replied:

"I think he might, but he is very shy"

I could just about puke I am so mad regarding this.

And you know I tried asking her questions about the guy and she has NO ANSWERS. All I know is that he is a speech pathologist, who hates going to bars, and is SHY.

Sounds like a barrel of fun.

So in between getting caught in some political bullshit at work today, I did manage to exchange a few emails amongst a group of sistahs regarding something that happened to a friend of ours.

This was a quote from said friend's email regarding her recent blind date:

went out with the one boy i was talking to via email. he was cute, super nice and we had a lot in commom. however 5'10" apparently is the new 5'7" because i was taller than him, even without heels on. But he could be a nice guy to hang with. I just can't get over the tininess factor. but we have a tentative second date planned.

So... this roused a fascinating electronic debate between about five of us.

Warning... below points are fairly graphic. The girls and I can very much be like boys in a locker room.

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So I was reading over on Lulu's about sex and the single woman and I liked the post.. and I liked the quote she used so I decided to repeat it here. (and then you'll get my commentary)

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First of all... I am home. After a long grueling 10 hour drive where I contemplated life.

And while I was contemplating... I noticed a pattern (hello.. Betsy the therapist would be so proud of me right now). I have this THING for artists.

Oh sure... I thought at first that it was just musicians... but no... I've moved on... I had a sculptor.. a writer... a painter I dated for a little while.. and just recently a... (lowers voice, coughs, and mumbles quickly while looking around innocently) photographer.

ANYWAY!

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regarding the trip to Chicago to visit him. And I'm a woman of my word, so let's go shall we?

I've gotten several private notes (several) asking for the story. And you know... I wasn't going to say anything at first. I just - wasn't sure how much to divulge... wasn't sure how much to keep private.

But you know... fuck it. This is my blog. I'm sayin' what I want to say. This is why I have this thing. This is it's raison d'etre if you will. And honestly, speaking frankly (when I do it) is a strong point of mine.

And damn it, I'm a writer... I am. I write. That's how I express myself the best...

I don't think that anything that I have to say is going to offend anyone... and if it does, then my apologies.

So get ready... hang on... you aren't going to find harlequin romance stuff here ("and when Sean touched Snidge, she quivered deep inside"). No no... none of that shit. What you're going to read about are my honest impressions of the weekend. So there.

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Of me quoting from the book, but deal with it.

Here's a gem for you.

"Hey - do you remember that movie when the girl waited around for the guy to ask her out, then made excuses when he didn't? Then she slept with him when they were both drunk, and basically just hung around until they were kind of dating? Then he cheated on her, but because she knew deep down inside that if she forgave him and kept her expectations low and was really agreeable that she'd get him in the end? He was drunk at the wedding but they lived miserably ever after in an unsatisfying relationship that was built on a shitty foundation? You don't? That's becuase those movies don't get made, because that's not what love is like. People are inspired to do remarkable things to find and be with the one they love."

I love that passage. And it's so so so true. You go out of your way if you want that person.

I have a good friend. Will.

Will and I went to high school together. Went to college together. I was his little Sigma Chi sister.
He's seen me married.
I've seen him get his law degree.
He listened in when I got the call for my first *real* job.
I cried with him when his mom died.
And he was there the night I had my son.

Will is the bee's knees in my book. He's been incredible to have around in terms of getting the guys' perspective.
"Snidge... is he like really handsome?"
"no..."
"Is he like loaded or something?"
"Well... no..."
"Then why the fuck do you care?'

That's Will's nice way of telling me to move on... and be the pursued instead of the pursuer.

Of course... when Will tells me about the women in his life that are doin' him wrong, I have offered up my services to have her head shaved bald.

So when he called me tonight while I was working out and asked if he could come over to my parents - that he had great news, I was intrigued. Called him back, told him to pick up some chinese (I've had nothing to eat all day), and that we could kick back and he could reveal all.

He came and told me that he was engaged. And I couldn't be happier. Damn... what a great guy. I love it when my friends find someone. It gives me hope...

And listen Will's woman... you got yourself a catch ya understand! This man sat on the floor and played hungry hippos with Turtle and discussed the latest Teen Titans episode. You *show* me some more guys that will do that, and *enjoy* doing it.

Be better than good to him. Be more than kind to him. Love him as hard as you can.

And if you don't... I'll have to get the shears out.

PS. This is the second engagement announcement I got today. Seems that K. at work asked his GF to marry him over the weekend in Chicago. I guess he must have done that in between emailing me. Freak.

So I'm a little tipsy... and think that in the morning... I will not like that I wrote this.

But what the hell.

Give me some cabernet, and a computer, and I'm deadly.

So do you believe in fate? Do you?

Seriously, do you think some higher power puts things into motion for you? So that things work out or that you meet THE person?

I'm thinking yah.

Quote of the night:

Kel (as I reach for my phone): Is someone texting you?
Me: Yah
Kel: That boy again?
Me: Yah
Kel: What does he say?
Me: Hopefully something really pervy.

Man... I am pathetic when I get some wine in me.

Michelle mentioned that she finds bald men sexy.

And that got me to thinking.

They really are.

I've always had a thing for Patrick Stewart... Taye Diggs... Vin Diesel. All hairless men.

And what about the security guy on Jerry Springer? I forgot his name... but he was sexy too.

Any others that I'm missing?

Boston Ben called me the other night. AGAIN.

Of course he called me drunk after the Sox win. Which was funny. I just now am getting his message.

He'd love to "catch up" and wants to know what my "schedule" is like so that we can chat.

Go away... seriously. I'm so over it.

If the dude had been wearing these however, then we might have problems.

I bet they don't breathe well...

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(And if that doesn't give you a clue as to where I'm located nothing will). My company has season tickets and it was my turn last night.

So I took Turtle and we had a grand time (despite the fact that a regular cheeseburger, a small beer, and a small soda was $15).

While there, I met a guy while I was standing in line waiting for the food. Hot, nice, polite... but when he took off his jacket, he had on the largest gold chain I have ever seen on a white man.

Now why'd he have to go and do a thing like that?

Also as a side note - I plan on posting pictures tomorrow... stay tuned.

An ex of mine is now gay.

Is that surprising to you, Snidget, you ask.

Not at all. He was way high maintenance, used more hair product than me, and one time dressed up like a girl for Halloween.

He also sang "how do you talk to an angel" on my answering machine and was a "cape person" in college.

I was supposed to go to NO? And you got no update? There was a reason for that. We ended up not going - but we're going this weekend. So I'll be sure to tell you about all the freaky-deaky things I see in New Orleans.

There's nothing else going on today. I'm getting my brows waxed, then going to the dentist. Fun times.

After that, I'm picking up Turtle, going to the gym (because I need to make sure that I get in at least some sort of workout before the weekend of excess), then having our traditional Friday night beer and eggrolls at the Thai place. Root beer for Turtle, natch. Singh-ha for Mamasita.

Z. prefers sorority girls.

Let's see... 31 year old divorcee with 4 year old son or... cupcake?

*sigh* This does nothing for my esteem. Really.

But... I will say that the majority of these "cupcakes" are brought up (especially down here in the south) to live in the 'burbs and breed kids (they'll have 2.5 thankyouverymuch).

That's not me.

I had that life - guess what? It's not everything that it's cracked up to be.

I'm groovy girl Snidget. Independent. Love my tunes. Love my kid. And love myself.

So... the right guy is going to come along - he has to be as cool as I am though.

But I have a friend that lives about an hour or two away. He is male and we used to work together.

I am going to New Orleans with him this weekend. It was a last minute thing.

I believe I have written about my friend M. before. He was my friend in need when Indy and I hit the skids.

Nothing is going on between the two of us. Nothing will go on between the two of us. The worse thing that could happen is that I have to bail M. out of jail. He likes the libations and can get rowdy.

But what the hell. New Orleans around Halloween time is awesome. I can't wait.

So I'm obsessing. What's new?

I've got two votes to email him.

I've got some naysayers.

Let's play out the pros and cons of sending the email shall we.

Pro - could be clueless and needs a little push.
Pro - could maybe not think I am interested and an email could prove otherwise
Con - could look like a desperate girl trying to bag a man
Con - could be not interested and I would feel a fool
Pro - an email would stop me obsessing one way or the other
Con - an email could make me obsess on whether or not he got it
Con - I could get rejected
Pro - But I love rejection
Pro - Rejection makes me feel EMPOWERED

Okay I'm just kidding on those last few...

God... I am not doing this... I'm doing something that girls that I make fun of do. Not gonna do it. Nope. I'm 31 fucking years old. I have a 4 year old son. I am an adult... This is something stupid-no-esteem-girls sit around and do in between doodling how their future kids might look like.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I'd like to hang out with the dude again because he was fun. Maybe I'll email... Shit.

So I decided today that I would not mention Thursday night and Z. at all to K. I know he was expecting it. But I thought, no... don't be one of those girls - you know what I'm talking about. The kind of girl that looks desperate. The kind of girl that starts picking out china patterns before the second date. I can't stand that girl.

Though I will admit to you - I'm sort of a take charge kind of lady. I hate leaving things up to fate, and tend to try to force things - even when it's obvious that it's not the right thing. It's what I want... and that's the only thing I can see.

Nobody wants to be alone. And as strong and as independent (shut up to the peanut gallery that points out that I'm still living with my parents) as I like to think of myself, I wouldn't mind someone to snuggle up to at night. I miss the lovin'!

But I'm going to take a different path with this one.. Going to just throw it up to and wash my hands of it.

And on a similar note - I found this today. Taken from one of Helen Fielding's new books (don't ask me which one). It's 15 rules to live by. I've taped these in my car. Taped them up on my bedroom mirror. Hung them up in my cube at work. I've memorized them. I can recite them. And I wanted to pass them along to you guys - hoping that they help you as much as they help me.

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It went well.

I met K. and his girlfriend and Z. out. Very casual. He's very cool. Well spoken, well traveled, well educated. No blaring things wrong with him that I could find. He didn't speak poorly of his mother, and didn't reek of weed at the dinner table.

Laughed a lot. Good conversation. He picked up the tab. Note: When I said this to my mother this morning, she said "Well he should have!" But I told her she would be shocked at how many cheap bastards there are out there.

So at the end of the evening, we were walking out to our cars. He said it was good meeting you, and I'll probably see you again. I said, yes definitely. And that was that.

So we'll wait and see. I would go out again.

Another note for the evening: K's girlfriend made sure to say to me that she had heard all about me. And that K. was always telling her "Me and Snidge did this. And me and Snidge did that. And I got to drive Snidge's new car today." I couldn't tell if she was saying this because it bugged her... or if she was just letting me know that K. thought a lot of me.

I don't know.

I tried to post a picture of myself in the photoblog from last night... but I think I f'd it up. You can go there and see if you see it...

Off I go. Why do I dread this? It's been awhile since I've been out... and I don't know if I'm up for it.

Grr...

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Well... it's on. K. set it up. Movies and drinks. Wonder how it will go. It's all very casual... We shall see.

Note to W. who did work at Big Time Brokerage firm here in M-town (with Lo-Cal no less).

Prolly not a cool idea to call a gal that you barely tried to keep in touch with over the past year in order to appear like Mr. Big to your now girlfriend - who just happens to want a Marketing job with said gal's company.

Not cool W. Not cool.

So there's another guy....

I'm on an email task force team at work (I still have no idea how I got onto this team, but I have). There are five of us. One of them is this guy.

Let's call him Fratastic, because he does have that whole southern patagonia wearing frat boy thing going for him. He drives a Jeep Wrangler for chrissake.

He's cute enough. Tall, dark headed... a bit of a big talker, which can be a turn off for me at times. Nice teeth... nice eyes. Well dressed.

He's flirting with me.

And it's petrifiying me.

I tried to be nice and short the first time he got started. Walked off and didn't give him much to go on. He started up again this morning after our meeting - and damn... I am so awkward with all of this. I can't even remember how to flirt - and am not sure if I'm even in the mood to do so.

Stay tuned... This could be nothing - it could be something - it could be disasterous.

and I decide to catch up on some blog reading. I'm not going to put a trackback or a link back to this particular blog that I read because I think that it might upset the other person.... hell I don't know if she even reads mine or knows that I read hers.

Anyway - I'm almost embarassed for her. She's put herself on this singles web site - and that's fine. I know plenty of people that have done it and have had success. But Lord, I see how she chases them boys away.

She goes out with this guy one time, starts calling him - checks to see if he's online - checks to see if he's checked his profile on the singles site... Ponders whether she should just consider him a friend or whether they are "dating." Then thinks she's getting blown off because he hasn't called back or written her that day, so sends him a nice to know you email and freaks out about what she may or may not have done correctly on the date.

Yikes.

And we've *all* been there as girls, but hell... let's stop. Stop chasing. What happened to the good ol' days of guys chasing us?

And furthermore...there are plenty of boys out there. PLENTY. Don't believe that hype about two women for every one man - they (men) put that propaganda out there. So take your time, have fun, and don't sweat a phone call or an email.

In the words of my good friend Kel - fuck 'em, honey.

Got a random voicemail on my cell Saturday afternoon and it was none other than Boston Ben - calling to see how I was doing and what I was up to and to make sure that I knew that he had moved out from his girlfriend's apartment and was out on his own now. I tell ya.... they are like rats coming out of the woodwork when you don't look for them.

And no, I have not called him back. I can't decide what I want to do with that one.

What I do want to do, is continue to try to lose these 10 lbs before England. UGH! I was going to go to the gym today, but no... didn't go. Instead, I went outside with my boy and tried to teach him how to ride a bike. Some would say, that that is just as much of a work out.