The Dating Game

If I had to sum up my dating life in one statement, I would quote Hamilton 'Ham' Porter from the great movie, The Sandlot and say.....

"If you were thinking, you wouldn't have thought that."

So....warned you are.

Here is my latest adventure in dating.....myself....

On February 16, Trombone Shorty is coming to Austin.  I don't care if you know his music or not.  I adore him and his pack of musical genius..es....errrr...geniuii....bunch o' musical genius friends.  I want them to make mad musical love to my ears.

But....I don't have a date.  Which isn't a huge problem....thanks to the best guy I never dated *koff*...Warren...*koff*.  I have found myself to be a wonderful date.

If you are not familiar with me or my sordid dating history....let me take you back to 2008.  I met a guy named....Warren....and we both discovered that we both enjoyed a radio program entitled, 'This American Life' produced by Chicago Public Radio.  That year, the radio program did a live broadcast in select theatres to announce the coming of their new television program coming to Showtime.  Basically, it was a $20 a ticket infomercial.  Despite my frugalista tendencies....I felt....I had to go.  And Warren....was the first person on the planet that I knew personally...in Real Life...that wanted to go!  Well....almost in real life.  Warren and I had never met face to face.....don't ask me how I ran across him in the first place.  Neither he or I, could tell you.....reasons unknown....it seems we have both blocked this event in our history out.

So....I was super excited!  Ira Glass, TAL, and thee.  This date was going to be PERFECT.  Or was it?  I started to worry.  This is a blind date after all.  What if I couldn't find him?  What if it was distaste at first sight?  What if.....he was a serial killer who prayed on little nerd girls who love American Public Media Programming.  OMG.  What if he didn't understand my love of Ira Glass or my nerdly passion?  What if he just SAID he liked This American Life.  errrgh.

There is nothing worse that being super over the top excited about something....and having to drag a dud date around with you.  Or having your mellow harshed by a lukewarm semihostage privy to your nerdly passion.  It would never do.

I wonder if he was thinking the same thing....because we both backed out on each other at the last minute.  I went.  I don't think he ever did.  I had the best date with myself ever.....and from then on planned to date myself more and often.  Warren, the best date I never had, left for California the next week.  For the record, I was not the cause of that.

But from that experience, I discovered these things:

1) I can open my own car door.

2) I will make myself jealous.

3) I can hold my own hand.

4) My breath is good.

5) I probably wasn't going to be getting any, but if I did.....I would totally respect myself in the morning.

6) I stood a good chance of still liking myself in the morning no matter how the date went.

7) I know I am funny. So ....I would surely be an entertaining date.

8) I would wear a pretty perfume.....something with bergamot. Because I like that. Orrrr...maybe I should have worn a guy smell. I totally dig guys with colognes. I could totally dig myself. 

9) I would take myself for a walk on the beach. Because I am all beachy like that and suggesting to myself that I like long walks on the beach doesn't sound as cheesy, because I know that it is true and sincere.

10) I wouldn't whisper to myself in the movie.

So you see the beauty in this.  I would say this was a more successful period in my dating life and I find myself today with only one regret.  Warren and I started conversing again....5 years later.....and we get along like peas and carrots.  Odds are....had we gone on the date.....we might have actually gotten along....  which is much more than I can say for the chain of fools I dated A.W. (After Warren)  You win some, you lose some.

But again...the important lesson here was......don't ruin up something you are really looking forward to with something crazy....like....say a bad date.

I would like to say I retained that lesson for future reference.  But alas...alas...alas......

Fast forward 3 years later.....

Mumford and Sons came to Austin. I was out of my mind with excitement.  If you could have worn the grooves off of a CD like you could a record.....I would have done so....quickly.

I bought two tickets.  I did not have a date.  I just felt that I needed to take someone with me.  I hadn't been to Austin and I was kind of intimidated by a city I did not know.  I felt that I probably needed a chaperone or something.  I felt that when the time came for the concert, I would work something out....and I did.

I was dating a guy from Corpus Christi.....meaning.....we got to see each other once in a while.  Nervously.....I invited him.  I was worried....I was concerned.  I knew that I loved the music of Mumford and Sons.....nearly as much as I loved to breathe. I also knew.....that I was asking someone who thought....for his money......Lionel Richie.....was the shit.....if you cared about music much. You see the warning signs.  My fear of going it alone in a city that didn't know my name, trumped all sense and obvious potential horror dates to top all horror dates to follow.  And I cannot blame him.  I can only blame myself.

It started off with me having to drive.  Since he had to drive for a living....he didn't want to do it that night.  But....but....the point was you drive for me into a city of the unknown....thus protecting its inhabitants from my horrendous lack of parking skill!  He wasn't moved.

On the way to the concert....he insisted on stopping for something to drink.  Lots...and lots....and lots....of Orange Juice.  Before the concert started he had a couple beers....which is all fine and well....but....as a nurse....I am pretty certain that the what goes in must come out rule still applies.  Maybe you should go to the bathroom?  Nahhh....he could wait.  Until the second song of the set.....where he interrupted his impression of a serious full body security check and my impression of a person swatting at a swarm of bees.  He said....I will be right back.  Which meant he called me on my cell near the end of the concert to let me know he was waiting by the car because ....*suprise*....he was unable to navigate the sea of people between the bathroom and me.

This is what happens to you when you know better.  I cannot tell you how many levels of pissed off at myself I was.  And you can bet no panties were breached post concert attendance.

SOOOO....the morals of my two stories.....lead me back to Trombone Shorty.....and the concert that I want to attend.

Do I go it alone?  Do I skip the concert entirely? 

If I was thinking.......

3 Parenting Questions to Ponder

I wrote this in 2008....so in absence of something original....

1. Why can I not go to the bathroom alone?

I don't believe I have.....uh....made any 'offering to the Porcelain God 'independently since I say......moved into this condo? I am not sure if it is because my children believe I need 'Child Guidance'....admittedly I have been rewarded with....'you a big girl!'....'good go the potty, not in your pants' among other praises and unwelcome commentary.

I had this one moment of brilliance sometime last week when I thought. Maaaybe they think I cannot go alone because THEY never get to go alone. I am a super genius. (The minute you think you have out thought your kids.......think again. This is sage advice)

So I sent the boy to make an offering.....alone.....as I felt it was indeed time that he could make a go of it alone....

and I am not sure if God was watching.....and paying me back (see my Tarentella Tale story )....but as Little Mr. Muffet sat on his tuppet expelling his curds and whey.......along came a spider, that 'threatened' to bite her.....er...him. And frightened my boy away....permanently.....Never to go to the potty alone again.

So that didn't work.

I tried it on the girl....figuring one witness to my bathroom crimes would be better than an audience.

Sat her down. All was quiet. All seemed well.....for a little too long.

I opened the door as I heard her flush. Funny.....I had no idea the toilet water was carbonated and foamy.

Well....if you are wondering.....it isn't.....unless you pour half a bottle of bubble bath in it.

So much for my brilliant idea. Mental Midgets Unite!

2. Why is my food always 100% better than theirs?

We could all be eating cereal. Accurately measured out....milk too. Using the same spoons. And they would want my bowl.

I have tried variations. Another example of what should be brilliant thinking thwarted upon inception.

Variation #1:

Pour yourself a bowl of Colon Blow cereal....(and plan to have witnesses to the aftermath). Pour the boy and girl a bowl of cereal.....with marshmellows, sparkles, unicorns flying around it in a circle, the milk spouting beautifully out the middle. The will not want that. They will want the bowl of Colon Blow......chock full of bark, berries and crunchy sticks.

Variation #2

Same scenario. Now they are eating your Colon Blow. So you decide take a bite of the Candyland cereal before the Unicorns get soggy and the sparkles get dull.

Before it reaches your lips.....mark my words. They will first grab the spoon before it reaches your lips sending a unicorn into orbit, splatting colorfully on your shirt......the magenta is striking against the pale yellow you know. Then drive the spoon into the bowl like a conquistador claiming a new land.....and say.......the word that composes a full 1/3 of the vocabulary of the under 5 set.......MINE!

So you are back to your bowl of Colon Blow. Only the milk has softened the bark, berries, and sticks into the consistency of wall paper paste.

I know what you are thinking next. So I just won't eat cereal until they are 12! By then they will have all the cereal eaten before you wake up. Each box costs about as much as a gallon of gas.....but that is a discussion for another article.

Face it. Once your children turn into toddlers with teeth.....you will never again....dine alone. Something you had always wished for........much too fervently.

3. The time it takes to clean their room is inversely proportional to the amount of time it takes to destroy it.

Nothing more to say on that one.

Sometimes I thank GOD my kids are cute. It saves me from eating my young. hee.

Natural Vegetarian Trim....

Um...yeah. Exactly. Right.

I was looking for a cover for my new cell phone. Being of the nerdly persuasion I had to check the specs. Dooney & Burke? I can dig it.....but it isn't necessary. 'East- west flap pouch'....hey they get points for direction originality....I actually chuckled. 'Detachable leather strap'.....it gave me ideas....naughty ones.....at which I smirked and tee hee'd at myself. But I stopped at 'Natural vegetarian leather trim'. I almost blew a neuron just thinking about that. You don't believe me? See below.



Yep. I never knew it could be an option. I was having one of those 'someone is pooing in my right hand and calling it natural' moments. But....being a typical All American girl. Like Lindsey Lohan, Britney Spears, or Paris Hilton/Kim Kardashian...... (ewww *shakes off THAT thought), I thought hmm. Let me try and figure out EXACTLY what they are trying to sell me here.....besides the Brooklyn Bridge.....which I already own 3 times over.

My ideas were these:

1. These wallets are made from cows who are vegetarians.....as opposed to the meat eating cows of Vermont. WHAT? Haven't heard of them? Check the Discovery Channel. That is the ranch that is beside the Ben and Jerry Ranch with the BGH-less cows. (Which explains why B&J's ice cream is more expensive....they have to keep replacing the eaten BGH-less cows)

2. Vinyl......with cotton lining

3. This isn't an idea....just a philisophical question.....or something like that:
If there are Natural Vegetarian Leather Cows....are there Faux Vegetarian Leather Cows? Like cows running around with say.....skin.....fur....or feathers? I dunno.....my brain hurts now.

SO......in light of my cerebral varices....which will leave me open to more instances of cerebral flautlence....naturally.....

What do you think is going on here?

I *almost* want to order it to see exactly if it is animal, vegetable or mineral.....
'Cos I am naturally inquisitive like that.

Please discuss...

Since we are on the subject of creepy crawlies....

Here is a story about creepy crawlies past....circa 2003

I was hanging our clothing to dry in the September sun with my 3 month old son sleeping soundly in his sling. It was terribly hot and the mosquitos and flies were bothering. As I hung the last of my baby boy's nappies I came across this huge spider. It was yellow and black and most frightening of all....it was big. Baby eating big. I am terribly, ridiculously frightened of spiders and this spider had us cornered. I just knew it was poisonous and likely came equipped with baby digesting enzymes in its little fangs. I felt paralyzed....but I had to protect my son. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shovel and I lunged for it with every fiber of my being.

I smashed it once. It came back to life. I smashed it again, at least 20 times. It crumpled.....but then miraculously, it came back to life. I knew then what I must do.....obviously to me, this spider had a craving that only my son's baby flesh could satisfy. SO with all the courage I could muster, I smashed it again with the shovel and jumped on top and squish, squish, squish. Babies 1, Spiders 0.
Finally, finally my male neighbor surfaces and I show him my kill. He gives me a beer....now I don't drink...but I took a small sip this day. For I was the spider killing baby protector. (side note: the boy slept through the whole ordeal)

Next day I went to work and I told my work partner about the assuredly poisonous man eating spider that I had vanquished over the weekend. We decided to look it up on the internet to discover something that made me incredibly remorseful. Number one, there is only one poisonous spider where I live and it is small and brown. This one was black and yellow....and did I mention big? Number two, my victim was a harmless garden spider. Their diet consists of the mosquitos and flies and other flying disease bags. And I killed it.

My work partner look at me....sensing I was having a huge moment of remorse and guilt...and said. "Yeah, Heather. God probably said, look there is Heather and she needs a break, let me send her a spider to help her. And you smashed it. Then he probably said....well, let a miracle occur...let me bring the spider back to life. And you snuffed out the miracle permanently."

I lamented all day....all week. And then I resolved...the spider and I must be friends. Ok, ok that would be taking it too far. But I did make a promise to God and the spider that I will kill no more spiders.

Ever.

I did not say I would not enlist the help of a manly man to do the job for me.....but as for me, my spider killing days are over. And when I ask for help, I always offer an option...can you kill/shoo a spider away for me?

Sorry Mr. Spider.

CAUGHT ON PIXELS.  GECKO of DEATH.  I discovered that....not only does it want to eat me....but it is a gecko and likely wants to sell me insurance.  MORE DETAILS  TO FOLLOW!

I have found my special purpose!!!!

....and it is quite disappointing My life is very Steve Martin as 'The Jerk'. So not very Harry Potter-esque or Sword in the Stone type stuff.

So...less than an hour ago....I resolved to begin writing in this blog again. I took a shower and contemplated about what I had written before....and what I may write about in the future. I had a chuckle about my possum and dead mouse tales.....when....I saw.....despite my very poor eyesight.... but utilizing my "keen critter invasion spidey sense"......I saw a

REPTILE THING IN THE SHOWER DRAIN.

I would love to be able to identify this for you. The best I can do to describe it is:

1. It is reptilian.

nuff said.

2. It pink and naked.

and no it isn't what you think.

3. I could see it's reptilian bones thru it's pink/naked/wet reptilian skin.

I feel sure they were attached to reptilian claws.

4. It likely wanted to eat me.

But it had to catch my pink/naked/wet @$$ jetting it out of the shower, FIRST.

5. It lays in wait in the drain.

I did try to wash it down with lots of water. It has a death grip on the drain....likely until it

can get a death grip on my throat.

Ok....so you need a better description. Ok. It is about 3 inches long....and it is either a lizard, gecko, or a newt. Only more vicious in appearance and likely it is much more deadly in form.

So.....what does this have to do with my special purpose? I fear....and I hope it is not true. That I was put on this Earth to chronicle the wild beasts of Texas. What other reason could I have been brought to Texas? Why else was I plagued with writer's block for so long?

So I could write and experience...(in my world the word experience is dripping in slime and goo)....the things that may kill me stupidly in Texas.

I used to be befuddled in Virginia Beach, when people would do crazy things like go surfing at prime shark snack time at 4pm. I thought....THEY ARE CRAZY! But now I know the truth.... they just....did...not...know......what laid in wait. Like me. In Texas.....sticking my hand in woodpiles....waiting for the the next rattlesnake to bite.

I wanted to be published....so badly. But be careful what you wish for.....I did not want my biggest accomplishment to be....

WOMAN EATEN IN TEXAS BY REPTILIAN SHOWER BEAST.

She should have known....story at 11.

or

UNSUSPECTING TEXAS TRANSPLANT LEAVES BEDROOM WINDOW. IS MAULED BY OPOSSUMSAURUS.

What was she thinking......story after the Spurs game.

You see where I am going with this? Some days I feel like my life is one big Reality series that no one watches. Only I am doing the gags and prompts without the set up.

SO. Is my special purpose to become a famous published writer? No. It is to blog unappreciatedly about Texas Wildlife.

Did I mention the new, less impressive yellow pages are here? (small, hippity hop)

Remember I said I was going to keep up with this?

I lied.

But here I go again.....with a new attempt. I blame you Warren.

I have another blog.... labellota.wordpress.com

I had it in my mind thats were all you bloggers that I like were. But....that's what I get for thinking.

Entonces.....

La B's Grand Plan

OK....so....boring blog post alert.

Plans:

1) Get my BSN

2) Move to Sedona, AZ (or Puget Sound)

3) Leave here in April 2011

4) Fall in Love with self. Be the best boyfriend I ever had.

5) Find "home"

Happy Independence Day!

Yes, yes

I remember back in the day when July 4th was a really big deal. My mom had made me a colonial costume and would have me dress up for the day. I particularly remember this little circle hat thing that she would pin onto my head.....and I would be sooooo afraid of losing it.

I remember parades more than I remember fireworks. Fireworks were a realllllly big deal. I remember my dad....who was the Navy Band....and now and again we would get to go to the twilight concerts and fall asleep on the ground where we stood.

I remember pledging the alligence at school. I remember dreams in which I feared that I had forgotten it. In real life....I never did.

I remember barbeques....which I miss.

I remember so many things....

yash inspires me.

I haven't been here as promised....but as stated previously.....Yash inspires me despite her complete confusion regarding the flavor blue and its relationship to the universe. Poor, poor Canadian lady.

Interesting things of note:
I did not know that the Icee is a cousin of the Slurpee.

Apparently Icee came before the Slurpee and Slurpee is a 7 Eleven Icee. That said....why do I feel that I desire the slurpee more? Well....first of all....in Texas, the only flavors one may aquire are blue, coke, Dr. Pepper, and usually the invisible empty icee container that is present at every icee vendor I have ever visited.

While I commend Icee on the introduction of the Dr. Pepper flavor. I understand that Slurpee, being the icy beverage innovators that they are......have TWIZZLER flavor. Being highly sensitive (read hyper) to all things Red Dye 40......the thought that I can have my candiferous crack in a frosty beverage.....well.....it turns me on. I am considering a vacation to another state that has Slurpees.....just so I may taste. I may have to rub it on the nips I am so excited.