All is good.

Well I am here, such as it is.

I am totally and completely embarrassed about the amount of stuff I own. The books are their own separate problem but it is the little collections that are a killer. So I sit here surrounded by boxes and boxes of stuff.

The kid and the ex went yesterday to get the end of it. The plants, the outside stuff and the bird. Yep, the hated bird is going to reside with me. I think I have sucker tattooed on my face. The ex was going to see if he could sell it and that just seemed sad, so I traded something for it, soon it will be here.

This house is so much better for the dogs. The yard is huge and fenced. Olive of course, found her way out and into the neighbors yard. She can't remember the difference between the command "sit" and "down" but can be the Houdini of dogs and lead Herbie down the garden path. Tomorrow I will be buying chicken wire and outlining the fence. The fun times they keep on comin'

I went to the local grocery today and it took all of ten minutes to shop. It really helps that there is only one grocery store and they carry none of the food I am use to eating. I missed garbage day because I didn't know what day it was. The mailman says we don't have a mailbox though it is right there on the sidewalk. The actual postmaster drove over here and said "Why yes, we do have a mail box and mail will start" You get rock on great service in a small town,

The neighbor invited me for a taco party this weekend. I'm not sure exactly what that is. I know it involves tacos but how do you party with a taco? That sour cream must be a real crowd pleaser. I think I may go. I like tacos. And I love parties. Could be a good match.

The pelicans are feeding in the ocean tonight and they are beautiful. The whales are here. The sunset is stunning. The dogs are tired. I have unpacked the wine and the fireplace is keeping me toasty. All is good.

On the Road, Finally

At our home, we are in the middle of a financial crisis. The ex has not worked in over six months since he was fired in December. He says he is getting a job, but since he is a habitual liar, who really knows. Money is tight. I am thinking of moving to Sweden since I have found all that Swedish money I think I may be a millionaire in that country.

So after packing 18,000 lbs of stuffola, it now needs to transport itself to the Oregon Coast. Since I am not I Dream of Jeanie or Bewitched, I can't twitch something and have it fly the boxes away. Damn. I thought of using Olive, since she was bred to pull milk cartons and really how much difference is there between milk and books? She refuses to cooperate. Lazy Ass.

So we were going to hire Bob's Big Bmoving Bcompany (or BBBB) for short. I'm assuming those last two B's are silent. But I saw this episode of Dateline or 48 hours, or some show like that, that only exists to scare the shit out of normal people, about moving companies holding your stuff hostage. That did not sound like something that would be fun. Then that saying ran through my mind about getting what you pay for, or something like that and I decide no.

I decided to do it myself. Then I decided no. Then I laid down and watched some tv and ate popcorn. Lazy Ass. No money, no moving company, it all started to become too much.

Then the idiot ex started yelling about us getting out of the house. It was the last straw. I shouted some feelings using the swear word dictionary and then said you do it! asshole. So he is. How pathetic is that? And also very appropriate. He went and rented a truck. A giant truck, manual transmission, and no air-conditioning. I hope it gets to be about 100 degrees today. First he couldn't get the lift to come down. Had to call the company. Then he used the lift without reading the instructions and drained the battery, so the truck wouldn't start. Had to call the company and get a tow truck to jump it. So far this is saving us a boatload of money.

Loaded the truck. Now he is on the road. If all goes according to plan, he will blow out a tire and get a ticket for some infraction. He is a moron.

I am trying to keep my eye on the bigger picture. In two more days, I will be out of this house and free. It is hard though. Dealing with this individual is hard. I have no idea what in the Sam hell happened to him but it is near impossible for me to be around him. He starts with bizarre stories and never finishes them. I bought fast food for dinner last night, the kid and I sat down to eat, the ex started eating over the kitchen sink. He smells funny. He looks weird. I have tried to get him to go to the doctors. No go. I have no clue what is going on with him. I guess the new "relationship" isn't going well. He no longer gets his teeth cleaned. He no longer takes his high blood pressure medicine. I don't know. Part of me knows this isn't my problem, he made his own bed now lie in it. The other part hopes I don't have to tell my kid his father is dead. *Sigh*

Now I must pack some more. The big items are gone just little pieces remain. The annoying parts. Soon this will be behind me. I can't wait.

Know what sucks more than yesterday? Today!

Let's play a game! What sucks?

PACKING!

You are correct! and have won some packing tape. What a giver I am.

Yep, still packing. The kid packed breakables today and used 40 rolls of tape for 1 display cabinet in his room. My God! he is a total FAN of tape. You can drop his stuff from the top of our three story house and it won't even receive a dent. I have no idea how he will open his packed breakables, but that is his challenge.

Also, he decorates his boxes with 100 million words and giant block letters. Kids are helpful.

Some good things. I found a bracelet I thought I had lost. I also found cash. Foreign cash, but still cash. If I ever go to Sweden, I will be prepared. Also, I have 60 Chuck E. Cheese tokens and I AM NEVER GOING THERE AGAIN! I found my old passport and my head was so large, it couldn't fit all the way on the photo. Goodness, it looked like I swallowed Rhode Island. Someone seriously should have told me. Girl, your face is FRIGGIN' huge!

I also have the largest collection of Hart to Hart videos. And hat boxes filled with hangers. I even scared myself with that one. I'm not sure if I thought there might be a mad rush on hangers and I would be unable to attend, but anyway I am good to go for the rest of my life. And my grand kids will never have to worry about hangers. I really wish it was some kind of stock certificates or American money, but nope it is hangers. I need help. Or a hell of a lot more clothes.

I found some old MC Hammer pants and something with sequins on it. And it was clear that for a while, I really loved pink purses. Pink purses with DOGS on them. Painted by hand DOGS. I know, the divorce is making a lot more sense these days. What kind of nut case was I? I also had a lovely attraction to pressed pennies. You know, the machines where you hand over $2.50 and they hand you back a penny with a picture on it. Sad, I say! I am a sad, sad woman.

We are slowly coming to the end. Soon we will move all this stuff into a house already loaded with its own stuff. Then the rest of the summer is spent removing stuff and having it whizz its way to new homes. Oh! Thank God!

What sucks?

Packing. Sucks.

I have packed up 8 boxes of mermaids. The kid packed up 56 boxes of books. We have visited the box buying place twice today and once yesterday. I know the woman behind the counter. Tomorrow I will be back. I need tape. Lots of tape. I have 6 boxes of linens. 5 boxes of dvd's. It is a nightmare.

I have left all the romance books for the ex. I'm super nice that way. Also, I am giving him the Bunnies by the Bay bunnies. I have no idea why he started giving me giant stuffed bunnies but nothing says "Happy Divorce! you idiot" like a bunny. I know he will thank me.

I totally get why people never, ever, ever, I mean EVER, move. Why sometimes when you go into someones house and it has that funny odor. The odor of "I have been here since the beginning of time and I am loaded with smells." I used to blame these people. For gosh sakes, buy a new couch, already. Would it kill ya to get rid of those horrible multi-squared afghans, the brown furniture, the 1970's macrame plant hanger with a struggling spider plant hanging in it. I no longer judge them. For I now know they opened a closet door, took one look at the most bizarre crap known to man, slammed the door closed, and announced that "If a outhouse was fine for Daniel Boone, it is sure fine for us in 2009 and we do not need a house with indoor plumbing!, Martha"

The first few things were fun, like visiting old friends. Now I hate old friends. At the start, lovely packing prevailed, now it is a pan, two forks, a sock, dog toys, and some bleach. I mark it "kids room" and call it a day. Twice today I tried to get Olive in the Giant Super Dooper Box and taped in, but she totally caught on and let me tell you that girl can run when she sees a tape gun.

Tomorrow it is head vases, lipsticks, and hand vases, all which need packing bubble sheets and tape. More tape. Tape that never comes off the roll correctly. Folds back in on itself so you can't find the end again. Sticks to hair, shirts, fingers, arm hair, walls, legs, and then all the sticky crap is gone, so it won't stick to the box.

What in the hell do you put in the giant boxes? I put linens and now will need a linebacker to carry it downstairs. I tried games, but I only own about 6 and they just all opened and spilled into one big confusing game. I left them and put in some linens and dog toys. It is labeled "kitchen." I think there was a pot holder in there, so it is somewhat correct. I am going to wrap these boxes in Christmas paper and set them underneath the tree. I have no idea what is in them, so it will be a surprise. I see some old bills, some pens and a few pieces of craft paper in the kid's Christmas future. I have a feeling he is going to be SO surprised.

My life - Gross!

Happy Father's Day!

We didn't celebrate Father's Day today. We packed and cleaned out a storage unit.

I am horrified at the amount of stuff I have accumulated. Due to auctions, estate sales, and garage sales I have enough bits of this and that to run my own antique gallery. Which I may do. All I know, is by the end of this year, the majority is going to be gone.

Olive is having a time out in her crate. Puppies are hard. Disruption of her schedule has sent her into a tailspin. She has so far today, chewed up my beautiful bedroom rug, ripped my shorts, and has eaten some dog's feces.

Yep, you heard me right, she eats poop. Oh God, just typing it makes my stomach flip flop and I feel slightly ill. I have never had a dog that does this. It is by far the grosses thing I have ever seen. I placed an emergency call to the vet last night and was told it is fairly common among puppies. That didn't make me feel any better, I just decided to stop touching any puppies I see. Tomorrow I am picking up something called "Forbidden." You sprinkle it on the other dog's food and it is suppose to make the poop less appealing.

My gosh, less appealing? I didn't even know it had any appeal at all! Another company you have got to question how they came to make this product. What are people seeing in their day to day lives that invite the strangest products known to man. Cow's testicles to dog bones. Powder that makes poop taste bad. How do you test this product? Is there a news bulletin that you list the number of poop eating dogs you need? So some day if the dogs stop eating poop you have got a winner on your hand? My life is taking on a slightly science fiction vibe and I for one am starting to get terrified.

I have one dog that eats cherries that fall from the trees that surround our sidewalks. I thought I had pretty much entered hell when I had to pull a cherry stem out of his nether regions, turns out I was wrong. So horribly wrong.

All I can say is this life I lead, it is something that dreams are made off. I am sure that I should be starring in a Lifetime Movie of the week. This is real life, and it is just a big bowl of cherries.

Moving

I have started to pack. It sucks, Big time.

The books alone in the basement took me a whole day. It is like seeing old friends again. Some of the books are from my childhood with my name scribbled in the front page. Some I like so much I own a bijallion copies. Some I forgot I owned so, I bought them again. Now they all lay scattered on the floor, counters, chairs, awaiting packing boxes. They are truly beautiful and I love them. I am going to love them more when they are packed and moved. And they reside on shelves. Shelves that need to be built. But they will be with me and that is enough for now.

The kid is excited. I can't decide if he is truly excited or is being nice to me because I have turned into quite a weepy puddle. His room here is nice. Remodeled when he turned 13, a gift for his teenage years. The Beach House room has not been remodeled and his bathroom is so small that he can actually bump his head on the ceiling if he doesn't remember to duck. But it faces the ocean, has a fireplace and an outside deck. Plus, it is not near my room so he can stay up as late as he wants and I am not aware.

So we start to pack. And we start to transition to a new phase. Excitement comes and goes. The ex shouts about us getting out but moving takes its own sweet time. Olive helps by peeing on the rug and Herbie tries to fling himself into the pool, though he cannot swim.

The fish tanks have been drained and the fish have gone to new homes. I miss them. The dogs know something is afoot and have been poorly behaved for days. I smelled a burning smell in the house yesterday and had the fire department come out. No fire, but lots of yummy firemen.

So we pack and pack and then pack some more. We will be having the largest of large garage sales this summer and Ebay will get the rest. I am paring down, in all ways. Except for books. More and more I say.

We walk the neighborhood, this neighborhood that we have walked for sixteen years. Same houses, same sidewalks, some same neighbors, some new. We look at the lake and see the eagles soaring overhead. We watch them bring the diving dock to our beach and know the lifeguards will arrive on Monday, just like they do every year. We watch the cars come and go over the bridge and remark how beautiful the mountains look. We see it all just like we have for so long. Then we took it for granted, for we had a plan and thought it would come true. Now we know it won't, so we try and imprint the memories. We look at everything with eyes that are truly seeing it for the last time. We hope it sticks. We hope the pictures will remain in our mind, that they will always be so vivid and clear, so concise. Then we turn and head back into the house to pack.

Finished

I am now the proud mother of a high school graduate.

Let me say for the record, it was the longest graduation ceremony in the history of ceremonies. It started at 7 pm and ended at 11:30 pm. We did get a intermission so we all didn't get deep vein thrombosis from sitting forever.

Our senior class was small, the kid attends a private school, so they talked about each and every kid. This takes for ever and ever and is quite boring until they get to your own kid. And when your last name starts with a "P" it is a ways down the road. Add in some videos and some performances, and you are pretty much in for the long haul.

One of the nice things was having my sister with me. I am not the nicest person, Oh I'm not a axe murderer or anything like that, it is just that I seem to make fun of most everything. I think I have been like this since birth and I have really honed this skill. So we sat there and whispered about everyone else. Poor clothing choices, funny hair, and who in the hell names their kid "Homer?" Stuff like that. Fun stuff.

After the ceremony the kid left for his all night party and we left for a party at my house. A lovely bottle of Dom Perignon, junior mints, and a wide variety of the Milano cookies. I really know how to throw a party. We did have balloons, so it was very festive. We even had a balloon that played music. Sweet! Party On!

The kid was wonderful. He looked so grown up and happy. His diploma is nice and he is so proud of it. I don't think it has really hit him that he is moving on to college. He will have the whole summer to get ready.

Now we start to pack and move. We have one week until we need to be out of this house. It is good. I, and I think the kid as well, are ready. The divorce is winding its way through the court. I have chosen my new last name. Still have not lost 10 lbs, and I may never get around to it. The summer seems to be filled with new possibilities and a freedom that I have never felt before resides in me.

Freedom, oh that is such a beautiful word.

Finished!!

Well, boys and girls! This is it. The last day of school!!!!! Forever! Well, for me not for him.

What will it be like to not be tied to the school calendar? To have a vacation whenever I want to? OMG! this is so exciting. I have loved it all (mostly) packed lunches, school plays, play dates, friends, spelling bees, homework, the whole nine yards. It was indeed something I'm glad I got to do. Now I am glad it is something I don't get to do.

This week he has hardly been at school anyway. I do have to say it will take some time to remember what day of the week it is. School days keep you on a nice schedule. I almost forgot garbage day this week because there was no school. My internal clock still goes off at 6:30 am and on grocery shopping day, I bought breakfast items, though now no one eats breakfast. Last night I made dinner, and I use that term very lightly since it was a sliced chicken breast on crackers, and we ate in the hot tub while reading. It was 8:30 pm!

It won't stay like this, real life will come back and a new schedule will arise. I do hope it starts later than 6:30 though. This school stuff was fun, a whole lot of fun, but I am so glad to be finished. Finished with parent teacher conferences. Finished with grades. Finished with finals. Finished with clicks and fights and groups. Finished with parents I don't get along with. Just Finished.

I am so happy I have celebrated with a dog walk and laundry. Hey! wait a sec! that is just what I did when I had a school schedule. So not fair!

What a hoot!

Today was a hoot.

I found out the kid's college tuition starts two months earlier than I thought. I had a wicked screaming breakdown on the back deck with the ex.

Went to lunch. Drank. Replaced my blow dryer that caught on fire yesterday. Will be returning the new blow dryer tomorrow, found out it cost $300.00 not the $30.00 I thought. Bought a new lip gloss. Am having a Weeds marathon. Bought the new Dean Koontz book.

Have been exercising and eating right. Have gained 3 lbs. Put on sun screen, went swimming and got a lovely sunburn patch on my back. Got stung by a wasp TWICE in the span of 1 minute. Saw a dog that had a Mohawk. Stepped in dog crap and not even from my dogs.

Yep, this is some day. And yet, I have laughed about most of it. I think today I qualify to be the bug and life is the windshield.

Surprise!

For the next few weeks I will be blogging in the categories of "Maybe" or "Maybe Not."

I have the kid graduating. I need to pack and move. I need to get all settled into the new/old house. I am already exhausted but Oh, so super excited!

My sister comes next week for a few days and we are going to have the most awesome of times.

Everything is rapidly changing and though I knew it was coming, it has hit with a force rarely seen in this life.

The ex still doesn't have a job. Still has no prospects and that is terrifying. He is flailing. A year ago, I would have rushed right in to help out, to save him, to be the support he needs. Now the new me feels dismay but I realize it is not my problem. I can't save the world. I can't even save him. It is hard to watch. Sometimes I think that is the sign of change. The change isn't something that can always be seen, instead it is a different way of thinking. A different way of acting and reacting. So easy to say, so hard to achieve.

Now I walk around this house of mine. I remember moments. I think about the hopes and dreams that came to this house. The family that resided here, just like so many before us, and hopefully the many after us as well. The rooms press down on me. The memories overwhelm me until I can't breathe. I try and remain strong, yet I feel weak and wobbly. Sadness is around me. I don't want to change. I want to have back what I lost. I want the plans that were supposed to happen. I want. . . . but then the thought is gone.

The moment passes and just like I believe it will happen over and over again, I feel strong and happy again. Maybe I'm not going to know where this ride will take me, only that I am right where I need to be. It could be like those age old riddles, the chicken or the egg?, nurture vs. nature, is the future fixed in stone or is their wiggle room? Who knows? I certainly don't. And I don't want to.

I don't like surprises. I like the knowing, the planning, the outcome. But in this case, surprise away. This time I'm ready, willing and able to handle the surprise. So June will be one big SURPRISE after another. Turns out, I'm fine with that.

Bits of this, that and the other

I am having a random day. And I had a random yesterday. I seem to be all over the board. A little working. A little watching TV. A little sleeping. A little everything.

So I am going to show photos of the little bits in my house I love. In the case of Olive, I like a little. She had a bath yesterday, so I like her a little bit more. Herbie refused to get up out of the kid's bed, so I will have to TOTALLY love him without a photo.

I love tulips and the octopus wine glass the kid bought me for Easter. Just the glass, the tulips I bought yesterday.
I love these floral branches. They are sold at Fireworks. The first photo are them off and the second photo they are lit up. Yep, you heard it right boys and girls, they light up. The photos don't really show any difference but a awesome photographer I am not. Again, the kid bought them for me for a present. Fabulous!
Then we have the amazing chalk drawing of the kid taken 8 years ago at Disneyland. He is simply too adorable for words. This was done before braces, before he grew into his head, and before he filled out. He still wears a goofy grin and his eyes still dance with laughter and joy. The ex had broke into the Beach House and took it out of the kid's room. It has taken us about 3 months to get it back but we finally achieved our goal last week. It was not my best moment and I ended up being quite a bitch. But the picture is back, so the kid is happy.Last we have the freshly washed, dried, and brushed Olive. She looks peaceful but believe me, it is a temporary lull. Right after the photo she ran full speed ahead into the wall. I have no idea. The wall has been here forever, she knows it is there, but still into it she goes. Luckily she looks good. She is also slightly pigeon toed.There ya go, things I love and a thing I like. Enjoy the Saturday.

Satisfied

It is going to be a scorcher here today. Hip Hip Hooray! Nothing puts Olive to sleep faster than hot weather. That dog stretches out on the tile floor and is out like a light. That alone makes me love the hot weather.

We are busy finishing up the kid's Senior year. Last night we had the awards presentation for Speech and Debate. Two hours of blissful air-conditioning. The kid ROCKS at Speech and took home quite a few awards. I am super proud of him.

Tonight he is being honored at his charity. He has been working for the same charity for over 7 years and now sits on the board. They like him so much that they want him to open a branch in Chicago.

Today is his last day of work for his internship. He is super sad about that. He loves that job and the people he works with have treated him so wonderful. Last night he spent part of the evening writing thank you cards.

Having a kid is a lot like buying a car. When you start looking at cars, you see the basic bare-bones model. Then you start adding this, that and the other thing, so that before you know it you have the perfect car. A very EXPENSIVE perfect car. But a car.

Kids are like that too. When you get that baby, it is the bare-bones version. You love it and all, but it is really just nothing. It is waiting to be formed. You spend years and a whole lot of moola creating a person. Shaping and molding. Teaching. Enjoying. Crying. Screaming. Cursing. Laughing. Loving. But during this time you keep the photo in your mind of what you want in the finish product.

Someone who is caring and loving. Kind and smart. A hard worker but can also enjoy life. It is a constant struggle. Some days you gain ground but other days you back slide so fast you get a rug burn. You loosen the boundaries and then pull them tight again. It is a battle of wills, yours, theirs and the world. Who will win?

You hope you are doing a good job. You make mistakes. They make mistakes. You fight to hold your ground. They fight to increase their ground. It is on going. It is tiring and rewarding. Mostly tiring.

Then comes the day where the finished car rolls off the assemble line. You see it in all of its glory. You know what it was when you started and you are so amazed at the end result. That is how I feel now. That small wiggling newborn is now a full grown adult. He is off the assembly line. All done.

When I look at him, I am so filled with awe. I may have had something to do with the basic model and a few of the upgrades but the rest is all him. His hard work. So this week I watch as he reaps the rewards of High School.

I am happy.
I am content.
I am satisfied of a job well done.

Sharing is not always caring!

Sharing. Never been my thing. If it is mine, it remains mine. Get your own. I have this blog and so I give you all my thoughts and musings for fun. My fun. My version of sharing.

Strangers sharing. Never good, always weird. And uncomfortable. But in the effort to be new and improved (read nicer and caring) I now listen and comment. First I practiced my poker face in the bathroom mirror so I would be sure of not projecting horror or disgust to my audience no matter what they said to me.

I hate it. All of it. God, it is unbelievable how much I hate it. Are people born caring about others? Is it something you can learn? Was I raised by a pack of wolves? Am I just an ass? I'm pretty sure it is the latter.

Today on my walk with the two most defective dogs ever! I ran into another neighbor walking a Bernese. Of course Olive being a puppy she is a total magnet for everyone and our walks take slightly longer than FOREVER. We stopped and the lady enveloped Olive in a giant hug. I don't touch other people's dogs, it's just a rule I have. I don't touch babies either or slugs.

After getting all the mundane details out of the way, name, where I live, kids, blah, blah, blah, the real fun began. Her tale of menopause. OK people, I talk about the bizarreness of my life, I use more general terms. I don't ask you to feel me to see how hot I am. Or the fact that I am dry in certain areas and sweaty in others. I don't tell you how I don't remember your name and could you tell me again. I don't tell you about the regularity of my movements and what the hell my breasts are up to, and believe me that is a good week of blog stuff right there. No, some things are just too weird for even me to talk about. Of course, in two months or so, gloves could be off and you could be learning stuff you SO don't want to know. Forewarned is Forearmed, or something like that.

Now good news, the practice of the poker face went well. Still, no sharing of this kind. I just nodded and tsk,tsk my way through the conversation all the time thinking "I really hope I don't run into you at the grocery store because I will be forced to remember this conversation and not in a good way." Don't show me your cart either, I seriously don't want to know.

It brought back up the horrible moments of me belonging to the hot health club. All the parents from my kids school went there, every morning after drop off, there we all were. The exercising mommies. Or in my case, the OMG this is a delicious place to have a smoothie mommy. One day I was in the locker room, changing. Now I am not a naked fan. Well, I mean group naked. Naked in my own house, fine. Naked in front of strangers, not fine. I would get the furthest away locker and pretend there was a fire and change so quick that not a spark would touch me. This day, I heard a voice calling my name. I turned around and there she sat. Naked. 100% naked and cross legged to boot. Sitting on the bench. As I turned around, it was a lovely shot of her whoo-hoo. For a moment I simply couldn't breathe. She was very comfortable and continued talking in a very normal manner. I was still trying to breathe and not pass out. It turns out she was the room monitor of my son's class. I stood there and stared. I knew her. Now, I knew ALL of her.

Every day after that I dashed into that school so fast that I was called in to the Principal's office about my speed issues, and that maybe I should park off campus. How could I explain that I couldn't just stand in the hallway and chit-chat about homework and crayons, I had seen her whoo-hoo. I had seen more of her than most of her close friends (I hope)had. We were barely on first name basis and I now rated right up there with her husband and her yearly doctor exam. There is no putting that genie back in the bottle.

I'm glad I have one of those faces that say, tell me, tell me everything, your deepest, darkest secrets, just don't then say "Let's walk together every day because these symptoms are a bitch!" I'm pretty sure I am unavailable.

Dating is so much fun!

I have decided it is time to date. After speaking to other women about their ventures back into the dating pool, I have decided to join a on-line dating service.

I tried this a few months ago and it didn't really work out for me. I am picky and I think all the contestants lie. After filling out the questionnaire, it basically ended up with me sounding like I wanted to have a bunch of sex in hotel rooms and read books.

I tried again and ended up wanting to go to hotel rooms with books and no guys. After reading my profile even I didn't want to go out with me. How can you really describe yourself? If I put the truth, I sound boring. If I lie, I could end up camping or some horrible fishing trip. I don't like nature. I do like 5 stars hotel. I like shopping. I don't like shooting, or cooking dead elk/moose/deer/squirrel/duck. I don't want to ride on motorcycle so I end up with big hair and bugs in my teeth.

I want you to be tall and funny. I like coffee, you should too. I spend quite a bit of time at Starbucks. Please like books and newspapers. No, USA today does not count.

It is hard. These sites nickel and dime you to death. Extra fee for photos. Extra free they will write your boring profile into something exciting and captivating. Extra fee they will move you to the front of the page. I want the extra fee part where all the hot guys are. Or the extra fee for the normal guys. I have yet to find those pages.

I feel like I want to say I have my own teeth. I can still trot pretty well but I have spent some time being a brood mare, so there is no little filly body here. I don't want to have more kids. I don't want to farm. A perfect dinner out does not include dining in my car at Taco Bell. Even if you can burp the alphabet, I don't want to know and I especially don't want to hear it. I won't watch car racing, golf or bowling on tv. On the plus side, I don't care for girly movies and I could give a crap about feelings. I can paint my own toe nails and I always think I look great in whatever I wear, so the question "Does my ass look big in this?" will never be uttered.

My favorite are the guys who are big but want a little itty bitty thing. Or the 49 year old guys looking for the 18-25 year old women. It is nice to have dreams. Or the 55 year old who want to have additional children. Dating at my age is pretty much a tap dance party through a loaded mine field. It simply can't end well.

Maybe I will wait. After all I haven't even given the pretty coat a try yet. Maybe I will being walking down the beach and the perfect guy will be walking the other way. With my luck, I will promptly fall into a tide pool and look just like a giant ass. But at least I will be keeping it real.

Hair today, Gone tomorrow

Yesterday I got my hair cut. I was 100% sober when I went in. I think I should have been 100% drunk. OMG! what was I thinking! Nothing normal that is for sure.

I have decided to 1. never get my hair cut again and 2. never, ever, ever in a million years to get my hair cut again. It is short and I now have bangs. Luckily I escaped before I started begging for big hair or a perm.

Bangs! seriously, I have no idea how I uttered those words but I did and they now reside on my forehead. Which now detracts from my one small eye. But Bangs? This is worse than the years in high school where I either wanted the Dorothy Hamill bob or the Farrah Fawcett flip. Neither one was one iota flattering to my slightly long face (and of course the small eye) and yet I consistently chose those styles over and over again. FOR GODS SAKE, why didn't someone say anything.

This one is my fault, though I do blame the fact that all my words in my vocabulary to explain how I want my hair are from the 80's. So I am fortunate that I didn't exit the salon with over teased hair and some sort of Flash dance t-shirt and leg warmers. But I did exit with Bangs, so it very well could be a toss up.

The rest of the hair is short and layery. According to the stylist, I can just tousle it and I am good to go. I'm pretty sure in her world she would be ready to go. I on the other hand will end up with a small eye and some sort of rats nest with bangs on my head. It is official, I am never getting my hair cut again and my dating pool is going to encompass quite a few guys who have serious eye problems. Like they are blind. Or they are really into bangs.