So it is Friday (Woo hoo!) and I feel that I should throw something fun on this bad boy (girl does not sound as cool) blog. While experiencing another bout of insomnia last night (which has plagged me for the past year) I was thinking about my blog. How much I love my blog. "Hello there my pretty little pet. I love you. And then I stroke it, and I pet it, and I massage it. Hehe I love it, I love my naughty little pet. You're naughty!..." (Think Tommy, played by Chris Farley, in Tommy Boy and re-read that). Ok, ANYWAYS. . . see what happens to my mind on a Friday when I am severely lacking sleep and excited for the weekend?
Rewind! Ok, my point here is: for the past couple of days I have had the IMMENSE pleasure of boy bashing, but now I need to be fair. "T. . . are you so perfect that you have never done something douche-worthy?!" Ha! Of course I have! And I am always the first to admit my own mishaps. Let's begin.
First was the time that I simply could not hide my disappointment when I was expecting my knight in shining armor waiting for me at the palace doors of Marcus, but found the joker showed up in his place instead. "Who are you and where is the prince that claimed he was nice looking and never got complaints?!" Lesson learned number 6: No more blind dates. I suck at lying and I suck even more at hiding the look of extreme disappointment on my face. I am not a 'blind date' kind of girl I have found. Poor guy. He even had the balls to call me out on it. Talk about the walk of shame.
Next there was that whole door incident with The Model. I have to admit. . . I may have laughed about it (but hold up... I laugh when I get nervous too!) and I may have told him that that is why he needed to get a new car with "normal" doors.
And here is the red cherry on the gloriously fattening sundae:
This was on my third date with Lawyer. Should you know Lawyer you are wondering? No, you should not because I have not mentioned him yet. Lawyer was one of the good dates that I have been on. Numerous good dates that is. He was an eight and nine kind of guy. Smart, sweet, successful, good looking, etc. In fact, Lawyer and I are still on good terms and I am hoping to keep it that way. Why we are not 'dating' at the present time is something I care not to publicly go into (sorry peeps!). Maybe I should include some of the good dates I have been on... maybe. I will revisit that in the future. Ok, back to the story.
So third date. We went to an adorable restaurant that mainly focused their attention on small and often local wineries. You could purchase of bottle of the wine with dinner and then buy some bottles to take home if you were hooked. So, the conversation was going wonderfully, the food was excellent, and the first (note: first) bottle of wine was going down smoothly. We were having such a gay ol' time that we decided to continue our date with a cheese sampling and another bottle of wine at their festive bar! I would like to take the time to note here that while I may be a woman and on the smaller side of the weight and height spectrum I have an immeasurable tolerance for alcohol. Thank you Dating 101 and How to get through a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad date. So for me to agree to a second bottle of wine was nothin'!
At this point we are rearing to go and want to continue with this fabulous evening. I had received a text from some mutual friends of mine and Lawyer's who were also out and we all decided to meet up. Here is where I learn my lesson number 7: Yes, T, you can hold an absorbant amount of alcohol, but you suck at mixing it up and never, ever, ever, ever end your evening with vodka (unless you have been sticking to it all night). So as you can guess, one ketel one and tonic in and my evening turns to mush. I do remember it all once my friends are oh-so-willing enough to help me recall the memories I lost in my drunken haze. Let's start at the end and work our way forward.
I wake up the following morning to Lawyer quietly saying my name and rubbing my back. The scene looks like this: I am sprawled out, fully clothed (jewelry, make up, belt and all still in tact. For those of you that know me well... I NEVER go to bed with my make-up and jewelry still on no matter how in the bag I am). I am laying on top of Lawyer's pristine white comforter wondering where I am and what the hell happened. Then it all comes back to me... my black hole of a mind has opened up to let in the sun. Lawyer is sweetly telling me that I am welcome to stay as long as I would like, but that he does have company coming over for breakfast before attending a basketball game (of which I had so desperately wanted to attend had there of been an extra ticket). He did not want me to feel uncomfortable walking out of his bedroom into a room full of strangers (i.e. in drunken "T" terms: You look like shit and should probably either sleep this off until we all leave for the game oooooor see if you cannot manage getting home safely).
How did I even make it into his bed? Oh, I remember quite well (again, once I had help recalling it from my friends it all came back with a sickening punch). I drank my vodka tonic and then I proceeded to finish off my girlfriend's gin and tonic with the help of another friend there. There were pictures to prove this. I did not remember any pictures until I saw my drunk ass tagged in them on my facebook page the next day. I sat there quizitively thinking "When the hell was this?!" Oh. Yeeeeaah. Well then. Seems that after refusing to give a guy back an ID he found on the floor (which I found the next day in my back pocket) that he planned on randomly selling as a fake (to which I called up my friend who happily recalled the story for me. It seems I am still a demanding, goodie two shoes when drunk) (Note: I did take the initiative to mail the ID back the following Monday to its rightful owner who probably sold it off (again) to be used as a fake regardless). Woah, got off track here, so then after picking up some random scarf on the floor and taking it home (yes, I washed it and still have it ready to go in a bag to the goodwill), Lawyer calmly walked me back to his car. He did not have to carry me thankfully! But I do remember laughing a lot and finding it extremely hard to walk straight, and he may have... ok he did carry my purse for me. Sweet-HEART. I was fine in the car. I was fine when we got into his condo. I drank some water, we talked, I said I was tired and mosied on into his bedroom and crashed on his bed... uninvited. After about 30 seconds on that bed it hit. Thankfully his scrubbing bubbles bathroom was only 7 steps away... and I made it. Red. Red from the red wine was all I remember seeing. Turns out that even in my shamefully drunken state of mind I still remembered my manners because before I got up and sashayed... fine, drunkenly wobbled...back to bed, I cleaned up any trace of wine mayhem from his bathroom. I had rinsed out my mouth, washed my hands and once in bed I am sure I passed out before my head his down pillow of bliss.
Which leads us into me waking up to his gentle mannered self offering up a bottle of water as condolence to my ass-making theatrical debut the night before.
Luckily, I was with a complete gentleman who was very understanding and actually placed blame on himself for suggesting that extra bottle of wine! In all honesty, I think I felt so comfortable with this man and was just going through some emotional hell and confusion those past few weeks that I knew I needed to let loose and he was just the right man to do it around. Do I wish I had toned it down a tad, oh hell yes, but bless his unconditionally forgiving heart!
How we are still friends and he talks to me this day I do not know. If the situation had been reversed and he had been me...talk about seeing someone in a new light! Would *I* have been as forgiving? Meh. Probably because I find that I have been through too much to pass that kind of judgement. And I did clean up after myself at least.
Lawyer, I am glad you did not object!
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Adventures in Dating Hell Continued
Now where was I... ?
Oh yes, Star Wars...
Well after Star Wars there was just a mush of people.
There was The Model: This was a man with a history of modelling and quite proud of that he was. He drove a car where the doors did not open out, but UP. You heard it correctly, I said up. He used to insist on opening my doors for me. Such an old school gentlemanly thing to do I would always think. That was until I was talking away one afternoon and opened the car door for myself and crrraaaaacccckkkk.... Gasp! .... Slam! That was how I remember it going down. I looked to my left and saw a face that I was SURE was going to turn red and steam would shoot out of his ears, words of furry would fly out of his mouth, and a hand would come flying at my face at any moment. "Did you hear that??!" he inquired through gritted teeth. "Yes..." was my meek reply. That's right. I had opened the door OUT like most cars and I had put a bit of a dent in his door. Oops. I apologized repeatedly, but hey... when you are used to opening your own damn door and then you get in an f'ed up car with an f'ed up door... Shit happens right?! I offered to pay for any damages, but it never came to that thankfully. I still feel bad about that. He was pissed, but he composed himself very well. I guess you could say I really know how to do a 'bang up job' of impressing a man. My bad.
Regardless, I knew it was not going to work out after that, but there were other signs too. The fact that he was more dramatic than a woman... ok then me... was a huge buzz kill. It was constant bickering and too much work always trying to make him happy. One morning I was in a good mood and laughing profusely at a comic strip. Sure it was a little dumb, but that should not have mattered. I found it funny and was in a glorious state of mind. The Model just could not get at all what was so darn funny about this comic. "T... it is not that funny. . ." So out of spite I cut that comic out of the Sunday paper and put it right up on the fridge so I could laugh at it every time I saw it. Besides him always thinking I laughed at the dumbest things (like the comedian we saw that was not all that great, but he had a few good one liners or the controversial comic strip), he could not handle if I kept him waiting (even when it was not my fault that the service was extremely sllllooooowww at the dinner I was attending), he got mad if plans suddenly changed, and the kicker for me... his pink leather furniture. He said it was mauve, but it was clearly dark pink. Something you would see at a beach home in Florida not a condo in Bumblefu@k, Wisconsin.
I found it best to close this portfolio and consider other options.
Somewhere further down this time line was Picture Dick: Yup, sounds just like it was. It was someone I had randomly met and seemed so nice and funny, but conversation quickly turned to harmless flirting (or so I thought), but while at work one day I looked down to a message from PD and found the full-blown naked picture with a very special something in his hand. I am pretty sure that if someone had been looking at me while I viewed this unsuspecting image my face would have looked like I just walked in from the beach after 5 straight unprotected hours in the sun. DELETE.
There was also Mr. Way Inappropriate: Whom when I told him that he just was not my type and things were never going to work out for us responded nonchalantly "But we haven't even had sex yet". Huh... silly me. Well let's get to it! But first I just have to run to the store for cigarettes. Be back in 5. Seems I forgot to mention that I do not smoke and 5 minutes in MWI terms equals NEVER.
And I think I will end this story time with what Bob and Brian on 102.9 would call The Worst Person in the World: This was a man that I thought had it all. He had the house, the job, the body, the smile, the car, the humor, the charm, and even the adorable pre-made family with an ex that seemed to mind her own business. I could do this. The situation was a little different than I had intended, but hey, I have been ready for a family for a looong time and this certainly did not mean I could not still have some of my own bearing. He came to me. He asked me out, I said No. Why? Because I had soooo had it with men at this point. But the more I got to know him the more he rubbed off on me so naturally I gave in and said yes. Seemed like the best decision I had made in a long time. I finally found someone I wanted to introduce to my family. We took things slow, we did not overdo seeing each other, we enjoyed spending quiet, low key time together, etc. Well in comes Learned lesson number 4: Never judge a book by its cover. I would like to think that I had no part in how badly this man pulled one over on me; but when I look back I see all the signs that I just did not want to see at that point in time even though nagging suspicions were eating at me. Don't get me wrong. He was good at keeping this all as though I was paranoid and he was just being honest and doing all these great things and being a good father and I just simply needed to 'calm down'. Blah blah blah. Was he a good father? Yes, I believed he was a GREAT father. Did he use his children to his advantage? HELL YES. "Look at me. See how straight and narrow and honest and sweet I am?!" Yup. I fell for it all. Hook, line and sinker.
So what happened. You want the juicy stuff right?! This happened: Lies. All lies. Very little of what he said so straight faced to me were true. When he said he was over the young girl studying abroad that he had met two weeks prior to meeting me... LIE. Turns out that after he shoved me out the door at the end of the night so he could get his must have nine hours of sleep; he was telling the girl abroad (who had a very committed boyfriend mind you) that he loves... LOVES her! WTF?! All the while he was telling me what a "lying cheating bitch that doesn't deserve another minute of his time" she was. Also turns out that his ex that wanted him back oh-so-bad that she was willing to buy him a brand new Lexus (per WPINTW's mouth) still went on VACATIONS with him even though he claimed he would rather go gay than go back with her. There was also him saying how much he loved kids and could not wait to have more, but then a week later saying he was not ready to 'settle down and be serious with someone yet'. This was a man....BOY... who used to get seriously offended and mad when I would say I thought he was lying. Funny how when a person is guilty they get so mad... it is such a classic sign. I knew deep down things were not right and would even say so to him personally but never pushed it because everything was still fairly new and I did not want to rock the boat of such a "good" thing. He used to backpedal on his words constantly, but I just did not want to believe it. I had thought that someone with children who seemed to have it all together would be honest and know what they wanted in life, especially when they say how much they could not wait for you to meet them! Lesson learned number 5: (That's right WPINTW taught me two lessons) Actions certainly do speak louder than words.
Luckily karma has a way of bringing things full circle. The other girl and I had quite an extensive discussion and found out all that had been going on without our knowledge. What she has/will do with this information is completely up to her now; but what I did was take this situation as a major eye opener and used it to humor my still-following readers.
He threw this fish back into the sea and I could not be happier for the freedom he gave me back versus the prison pan he would have thrown me in to watch me fry with his smug smile of gluttonous hunger.
Yes, that situation burned me damn good, but I am happy to have made it out alive and whole!
And thus ends my previous Adventures in Dating Hell (sadly, that was merely touching the surface of the numerous dates I have been on since the end of 2008, but the book has yet to be concluded... so stay tuned!)
Oh yes, Star Wars...
Well after Star Wars there was just a mush of people.
There was The Model: This was a man with a history of modelling and quite proud of that he was. He drove a car where the doors did not open out, but UP. You heard it correctly, I said up. He used to insist on opening my doors for me. Such an old school gentlemanly thing to do I would always think. That was until I was talking away one afternoon and opened the car door for myself and crrraaaaacccckkkk.... Gasp! .... Slam! That was how I remember it going down. I looked to my left and saw a face that I was SURE was going to turn red and steam would shoot out of his ears, words of furry would fly out of his mouth, and a hand would come flying at my face at any moment. "Did you hear that??!" he inquired through gritted teeth. "Yes..." was my meek reply. That's right. I had opened the door OUT like most cars and I had put a bit of a dent in his door. Oops. I apologized repeatedly, but hey... when you are used to opening your own damn door and then you get in an f'ed up car with an f'ed up door... Shit happens right?! I offered to pay for any damages, but it never came to that thankfully. I still feel bad about that. He was pissed, but he composed himself very well. I guess you could say I really know how to do a 'bang up job' of impressing a man. My bad.
Regardless, I knew it was not going to work out after that, but there were other signs too. The fact that he was more dramatic than a woman... ok then me... was a huge buzz kill. It was constant bickering and too much work always trying to make him happy. One morning I was in a good mood and laughing profusely at a comic strip. Sure it was a little dumb, but that should not have mattered. I found it funny and was in a glorious state of mind. The Model just could not get at all what was so darn funny about this comic. "T... it is not that funny. . ." So out of spite I cut that comic out of the Sunday paper and put it right up on the fridge so I could laugh at it every time I saw it. Besides him always thinking I laughed at the dumbest things (like the comedian we saw that was not all that great, but he had a few good one liners or the controversial comic strip), he could not handle if I kept him waiting (even when it was not my fault that the service was extremely sllllooooowww at the dinner I was attending), he got mad if plans suddenly changed, and the kicker for me... his pink leather furniture. He said it was mauve, but it was clearly dark pink. Something you would see at a beach home in Florida not a condo in Bumblefu@k, Wisconsin.
I found it best to close this portfolio and consider other options.
Somewhere further down this time line was Picture Dick: Yup, sounds just like it was. It was someone I had randomly met and seemed so nice and funny, but conversation quickly turned to harmless flirting (or so I thought), but while at work one day I looked down to a message from PD and found the full-blown naked picture with a very special something in his hand. I am pretty sure that if someone had been looking at me while I viewed this unsuspecting image my face would have looked like I just walked in from the beach after 5 straight unprotected hours in the sun. DELETE.
There was also Mr. Way Inappropriate: Whom when I told him that he just was not my type and things were never going to work out for us responded nonchalantly "But we haven't even had sex yet". Huh... silly me. Well let's get to it! But first I just have to run to the store for cigarettes. Be back in 5. Seems I forgot to mention that I do not smoke and 5 minutes in MWI terms equals NEVER.
And I think I will end this story time with what Bob and Brian on 102.9 would call The Worst Person in the World: This was a man that I thought had it all. He had the house, the job, the body, the smile, the car, the humor, the charm, and even the adorable pre-made family with an ex that seemed to mind her own business. I could do this. The situation was a little different than I had intended, but hey, I have been ready for a family for a looong time and this certainly did not mean I could not still have some of my own bearing. He came to me. He asked me out, I said No. Why? Because I had soooo had it with men at this point. But the more I got to know him the more he rubbed off on me so naturally I gave in and said yes. Seemed like the best decision I had made in a long time. I finally found someone I wanted to introduce to my family. We took things slow, we did not overdo seeing each other, we enjoyed spending quiet, low key time together, etc. Well in comes Learned lesson number 4: Never judge a book by its cover. I would like to think that I had no part in how badly this man pulled one over on me; but when I look back I see all the signs that I just did not want to see at that point in time even though nagging suspicions were eating at me. Don't get me wrong. He was good at keeping this all as though I was paranoid and he was just being honest and doing all these great things and being a good father and I just simply needed to 'calm down'. Blah blah blah. Was he a good father? Yes, I believed he was a GREAT father. Did he use his children to his advantage? HELL YES. "Look at me. See how straight and narrow and honest and sweet I am?!" Yup. I fell for it all. Hook, line and sinker.
So what happened. You want the juicy stuff right?! This happened: Lies. All lies. Very little of what he said so straight faced to me were true. When he said he was over the young girl studying abroad that he had met two weeks prior to meeting me... LIE. Turns out that after he shoved me out the door at the end of the night so he could get his must have nine hours of sleep; he was telling the girl abroad (who had a very committed boyfriend mind you) that he loves... LOVES her! WTF?! All the while he was telling me what a "lying cheating bitch that doesn't deserve another minute of his time" she was. Also turns out that his ex that wanted him back oh-so-bad that she was willing to buy him a brand new Lexus (per WPINTW's mouth) still went on VACATIONS with him even though he claimed he would rather go gay than go back with her. There was also him saying how much he loved kids and could not wait to have more, but then a week later saying he was not ready to 'settle down and be serious with someone yet'. This was a man....BOY... who used to get seriously offended and mad when I would say I thought he was lying. Funny how when a person is guilty they get so mad... it is such a classic sign. I knew deep down things were not right and would even say so to him personally but never pushed it because everything was still fairly new and I did not want to rock the boat of such a "good" thing. He used to backpedal on his words constantly, but I just did not want to believe it. I had thought that someone with children who seemed to have it all together would be honest and know what they wanted in life, especially when they say how much they could not wait for you to meet them! Lesson learned number 5: (That's right WPINTW taught me two lessons) Actions certainly do speak louder than words.
Luckily karma has a way of bringing things full circle. The other girl and I had quite an extensive discussion and found out all that had been going on without our knowledge. What she has/will do with this information is completely up to her now; but what I did was take this situation as a major eye opener and used it to humor my still-following readers.
He threw this fish back into the sea and I could not be happier for the freedom he gave me back versus the prison pan he would have thrown me in to watch me fry with his smug smile of gluttonous hunger.
Yes, that situation burned me damn good, but I am happy to have made it out alive and whole!
And thus ends my previous Adventures in Dating Hell (sadly, that was merely touching the surface of the numerous dates I have been on since the end of 2008, but the book has yet to be concluded... so stay tuned!)
Pain in my side.... Or just pain in my ass?
First of all I would like to say Happy Birthday to my Big Sis! And Happy Birthday to my Daddy (Who's birthday and birthday dinner was yesterday and I missed it because of an unfortunate incident).
So I am taking a break from my telling my stories of Adventures in Dating Hell to discuss the recent unfortunate incident.
You ever just get in your car and feel like crying out of frustration? Well, I did not just feel like crying, but I did cry inside my car last night, but it did not start there. It actually started upon changing out of my hospital gown into my regular clothes (for the second time that day) and the nurse coming in and saying "we will be charging this as an urgent care visit, not an emergency room visit". Makes sense right? Urgent care SHOULD be cheaper than ER, but with my messed up insurance that is not the case. It had been a long day and that last thing I needed was another expensive urgent care bill.
Let's backtrack a little shall we?
It started around 10:15am yesterday morning. I had a little pain in my lower right abdomen and side. As the morning went on the pain got worse, as in: hunched over it hurts to sit, yet hurts to stand. So I let this go on for an hour. It is just a side cramp right? Finally, I called up one of the doctors in the office I work at and he did a bit of an evaluation. The verdict "You need to go see your doctor. ASAP". The concern? Appendicitis.
So I leave work early, go see my doc, and of course the pain is now subsiding after about 2.5 hours of intense pain. This is good right? Apparently not. This could mean my appendix has ruptured and I am feeling that release of pain. I get to my doctor's office and she states there could be many reasons for the pain: Yes, the appendix may have burst and now I feel better or it was caused by something else. It could be Pyelonephritis (an ascending urinary tract infection that has reached the pelvis of the kidney=serious). It could also be kidney stones (not so serious and I have had them before, but there is usually much more back pain involved). It could also be large ovarian cysts. Or it could also be pre-appendicitis that has 'quieted' itself down. So many things it could be. A urine test was done. Pregnancy=negative (duh! I told them I would need a partner and be having sex for that); but there was a trace of leukocytes (white blood cells) present. That is no good. This could be proof that there is something going on with my kidneys. Blood work was taken, but my doctor stated that she would follow up with me when the results were in (in approx. 4 hours time). In the meantime, I am to go to have a CT scan of my abdomen done in approx. 2 hours. So I go home, rest and then head for my 6pm appointment for my scan.
Once I get there I am notified of some information. Some important information. Some information that would have been valuable at least 2 hours ago. The information was this "Mam... did anyone call you and tell you that your insurance company will not cover this procedure here at our facility?" WTF?! Now what? My doctor's office is closed. My insurance company is closed. And I have something that could possibly causing an infection in my body right now. "You can reschedule this for tomorrow at another facility" (Big smile). Me: "Of course. They should have a telephone near my coffin, right? " (Big smile). Ok, that was a huge exaggeration on my part, but I am pissed, scared, and tired. NOT a good combination for me. So I talk to this person and that person and the end result "Well, I told so-and-so who told so-and-so who thought so-and-so would call and inform you, but so-and-so thought we would just discuss it when you came in...". UGH! So will you be taking the gas I spent to get here off my bill, or what about my time off of work?? Peace out. I am out the door and back in my car heading to McDonald's for my much earned strawberry shake because I have not eaten since 10:15am and have been told not to eat solids for the evening.
I go home. I feel a little tenderness, but overall fine minus exhaustion and frustration. Then I get a call from the on-call doctor. She insists that with my symptoms I should go to the ER and have the CT scan done. That's nice, but I am still not going. Then the doctor at the office I work for calls and yells at me "Go to the ER!". Ok, now I am scared so I go to the ER where I know my insurance is accepted. I get another gallon of blood drawn (I hate doing blood draws. Hate, hate, hate.). I do another urine test (still not preggo...SHOCK!) and then I wait around for all the results. Wouldn't you know? As my luck would have it, I am fine. No elevated white blood cells, no more white blood cells in urine. No CT scan. No explaination of what the hell just happened today.
I change again, grab my keys and get the news about how this will all be billed and that is it. The water works start. I am tired. I am sick of medical bills where I have gone in and received no diagnosis in return. I am sick of being mysteriously sick all the time. The nurse sits me down and talks to me. I do not feel better. I just want to go home.
This is when I get in my car and just let it all out. Total breakdown. I call my mom to explain that I must be loosing my mind and turning into some sort of hypochondriac. She assures me that I am not and that it will all be fine and that it is 'better safe than sorry'. She tells me to go home and get some rest. Which is what I do. I go home and walk my roomie's dog (the fresh air is nice) and then right into bed I crawl.
Another day in the life of T has come to an end. What will the next day bring?!
I am better today. I can still feel a bit of tenderness and a hint of discomfort, but I am praying it will completely dissipate soon. I have been told to eat light and watch my temperature and if the pain gets severe again I am to go immediately to see my doctor again. Uh huh. Right. I might try to wait the next round out. Just sayin'.
So I am taking a break from my telling my stories of Adventures in Dating Hell to discuss the recent unfortunate incident.
You ever just get in your car and feel like crying out of frustration? Well, I did not just feel like crying, but I did cry inside my car last night, but it did not start there. It actually started upon changing out of my hospital gown into my regular clothes (for the second time that day) and the nurse coming in and saying "we will be charging this as an urgent care visit, not an emergency room visit". Makes sense right? Urgent care SHOULD be cheaper than ER, but with my messed up insurance that is not the case. It had been a long day and that last thing I needed was another expensive urgent care bill.
Let's backtrack a little shall we?
It started around 10:15am yesterday morning. I had a little pain in my lower right abdomen and side. As the morning went on the pain got worse, as in: hunched over it hurts to sit, yet hurts to stand. So I let this go on for an hour. It is just a side cramp right? Finally, I called up one of the doctors in the office I work at and he did a bit of an evaluation. The verdict "You need to go see your doctor. ASAP". The concern? Appendicitis.
So I leave work early, go see my doc, and of course the pain is now subsiding after about 2.5 hours of intense pain. This is good right? Apparently not. This could mean my appendix has ruptured and I am feeling that release of pain. I get to my doctor's office and she states there could be many reasons for the pain: Yes, the appendix may have burst and now I feel better or it was caused by something else. It could be Pyelonephritis (an ascending urinary tract infection that has reached the pelvis of the kidney=serious). It could also be kidney stones (not so serious and I have had them before, but there is usually much more back pain involved). It could also be large ovarian cysts. Or it could also be pre-appendicitis that has 'quieted' itself down. So many things it could be. A urine test was done. Pregnancy=negative (duh! I told them I would need a partner and be having sex for that); but there was a trace of leukocytes (white blood cells) present. That is no good. This could be proof that there is something going on with my kidneys. Blood work was taken, but my doctor stated that she would follow up with me when the results were in (in approx. 4 hours time). In the meantime, I am to go to have a CT scan of my abdomen done in approx. 2 hours. So I go home, rest and then head for my 6pm appointment for my scan.
Once I get there I am notified of some information. Some important information. Some information that would have been valuable at least 2 hours ago. The information was this "Mam... did anyone call you and tell you that your insurance company will not cover this procedure here at our facility?" WTF?! Now what? My doctor's office is closed. My insurance company is closed. And I have something that could possibly causing an infection in my body right now. "You can reschedule this for tomorrow at another facility" (Big smile). Me: "Of course. They should have a telephone near my coffin, right? " (Big smile). Ok, that was a huge exaggeration on my part, but I am pissed, scared, and tired. NOT a good combination for me. So I talk to this person and that person and the end result "Well, I told so-and-so who told so-and-so who thought so-and-so would call and inform you, but so-and-so thought we would just discuss it when you came in...". UGH! So will you be taking the gas I spent to get here off my bill, or what about my time off of work?? Peace out. I am out the door and back in my car heading to McDonald's for my much earned strawberry shake because I have not eaten since 10:15am and have been told not to eat solids for the evening.
I go home. I feel a little tenderness, but overall fine minus exhaustion and frustration. Then I get a call from the on-call doctor. She insists that with my symptoms I should go to the ER and have the CT scan done. That's nice, but I am still not going. Then the doctor at the office I work for calls and yells at me "Go to the ER!". Ok, now I am scared so I go to the ER where I know my insurance is accepted. I get another gallon of blood drawn (I hate doing blood draws. Hate, hate, hate.). I do another urine test (still not preggo...SHOCK!) and then I wait around for all the results. Wouldn't you know? As my luck would have it, I am fine. No elevated white blood cells, no more white blood cells in urine. No CT scan. No explaination of what the hell just happened today.
I change again, grab my keys and get the news about how this will all be billed and that is it. The water works start. I am tired. I am sick of medical bills where I have gone in and received no diagnosis in return. I am sick of being mysteriously sick all the time. The nurse sits me down and talks to me. I do not feel better. I just want to go home.
This is when I get in my car and just let it all out. Total breakdown. I call my mom to explain that I must be loosing my mind and turning into some sort of hypochondriac. She assures me that I am not and that it will all be fine and that it is 'better safe than sorry'. She tells me to go home and get some rest. Which is what I do. I go home and walk my roomie's dog (the fresh air is nice) and then right into bed I crawl.
Another day in the life of T has come to an end. What will the next day bring?!
I am better today. I can still feel a bit of tenderness and a hint of discomfort, but I am praying it will completely dissipate soon. I have been told to eat light and watch my temperature and if the pain gets severe again I am to go immediately to see my doctor again. Uh huh. Right. I might try to wait the next round out. Just sayin'.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
If Dating=Hell, does Bad Date=Devil in Disguise?
So after the Originial Four laid the ground work and started to set up the traps of expectations, or lack there of, and disappointments I continued full steam ahead into the Dating World (a.k.a. Hell).
This is where the fun begins. These are not in any particular order, but more so just as they come back to mind, here are some stories about dates that I think we can ALL appreciate and thorougly enjoy.
Cokehead: Cokehead was by far the worst date I had ever been on (up to that point). I met Cokehead through a good friend of mine at a house party. I did not talk to him much that evening, but later on that night, after he got ahold of my cellphone and oh-so-slyly added his name, cell phone number AND e-mail address to my contacts list and then set it back down, I received a text saying "Odd. I like you". Like I should feel so special, right? Well, Cokehead was not my type, but he asked me out a few times so I finally thought "Why not. What harm could be done. As my mother would so often say- You never know...". So away I went. We met at a beer garden where we enjoyed ... beer... but also some appetizers. I often look back on this date and think that perhaps Cokehead should have eaten more because as the afternoon progressed he got a little too bold. From the get go things were off to a bad start. What I should have done, instead of sticking out the few hours of the date that I did, was turn and run as fast as I could out those iron cast gates before the dragon opened his mouth and spewed his fiery breath all over me in a feeble attempt to char my tough skin.
The first words out of Cokehead's mouth before I even had the pleasure of 'sitting down for it' was "I can already tell you aren't that interested in me". Woah. Well that set the tone right there, didn't it? But did I grab my keys and head for the door? No, I put on my pretty smile and said "Would you mind if I atleast sit down first?" Very quickly I found that I did not feel like I was on a date, but felt more like I was on an interview. When I said "I like to cook", he said "Good, I need someone to cook for me". When I said "I like to run and workout", he said "Good, I need someone to motivate me to get in shape". Round and round we went. When he asked my age and I did not ask his for the simple fact that I knew an approximation and that was good enough for me at this point in time (and I simply just did not care), he got offended and told me that it was "obvious I did not want to know anything about him since I talked about myself so much". Umm... sorry Cokehead, but it is called Q&A. We ask each other questions and the other one answers. I cannot help that you are hyped up on your 4th beer and wanting to know way more about me than I want to know about you (i.e. Winner! You were correct! I am not that interested in you, your bike, your money or the fact that we are both dating other people at this exact moment). We had walked around for a bit after the ever so amusing Talks with Cokehead in Beer Garden (he insisted on holding my hand during this little private soiree and I did oblige considering the fact that I didn't want him to fall in the water and I would have to ruin my hair by jumping in after his drunk ass). Apparently, holding hands=I will agree to follow that action up with a kiss. Standing by a fountain, Cokehead leans in for the prize and is ... DENIED. He seemed stunned. How could I resist him?? So wouldn't you know... he comes flying in with his second attempt in case I had a lapse of judgement perhaps? DENIED. One more stop at a bar to laugh it off while I secretly compile my story to tell my friends and it was time to get the hell out of Dodge. So how did the date end? With a bang of course! A bang that should have been my fist meeting his face, but was instead my car door closing loudly so that I could finally take a deep breath.
Oh and you are probably wondering why I refer to this one as Cokehead. Well, about a month or so later I heard a rumor that this particular date had a bit of a drug addiction and may have been under the influence at the time. I would like to say that that explains a lot, but future discussions proved that my date was not just a possible Cokehead, but was a definite Douchebag at the least.
So after Cokehead came some randoms (some good, some bad, some not worth mentioning):
There was U.S. Mmmarine. There are no words to describe how gorgeous and amazing this U.S. Marine man of mystery was. The best I can come up with is YUM. He was a head turner for sure. My first thought when seeing this Cuban god across the bar was that he was no doubt taken. Which is why I was prepared for the let down when I went to offer to buy him his third drink after he guzzled down his second while standing around alone. Was he waiting for someone? Perhaps his blonde goddess of love? Well, damn, I figured I better get in there and show him that the brunette Hera could be just as good as the blonde Aprhodite. Hera was married to Zeus after all... So there I went and floated next to my Cuban god. I offered to buy him a drink in which he pleasantly denied, so I figured... ok... he has already had two drinks down in 5 minutes, so perhaps a shot? Again, I was sweetly denied. As I turned to leave just happy with the whole 30 seconds of Cuban bliss I hear 'Wait. Can I buy you a drink?" Sold! to the Golden god of Goodness. Our dating did not last long, but he sure knew how to treat a lady. He took me to the best places around. He asked to see me every day. His voice was soft, his kisses were shy, and his attention was undying. Dream come true. Sure he was a few years my junior, but who-in-the-sam-hell-cared?! Not I! So what happened?? He was going away to graduate school in Illinois and did not think a long-distance thing would work; not to mention communications was his passion and most likely would not keep him grounded in the good ol' U.S. of A. Can I blame him? If no longer in the same zip code? He was much to honest to apply that 'rule'. I cannot say I blame him for wanting to spread that beauty around the world. So away he went to be someone else's god of goodness.
After a few more miscellaneous and not-worth-mentioning dates came Star Wars: Star Wars was easily Worst Date Ever No. 2. Star Wars seemed like a pretty good thing. He liked a post I made on a friend's facebook page and from there we hit it off. Caveat: he did not live in WI, but was within driving range... if you did not mind 7 hours of driving. But I had nothing else going on and you never know. So we kept up our chatting. Turns out not long after communcation started, Star Wars was planning on coming in to town! Yeah! Now we get to meet in person. This is going to be great! What could go wrong?! Not even God could sink this ship.... Well, I did not need God to sink the ship, Star Wars did fine all by himself. As those of you who know me well know I have one particular, unfailing trait. What is it? BEING LATE. Always. If I am on-time...then that must mean I am dead and it is my funeral. Now to play fair I gave Star Wars the warning before he came to pick me up at my apartment. Yes, I said pick me up... never again. Lesson learned number 3: Always, always, always drive yourself to the first date because when the going gets rough, the rough gets going (repeatedly) to the restroom to take a breather as it is the only escape. So Star Wars shows up early and as if on cue I am running around still trying to get ready. But I got this covered. I am always prepared at least! I am a cool chick. I hook him up with a cold beer, a comfy couch and The Hangover playing on my 32" inch screen (ooooh.... aaaahhhh... shut up!). So I continue getting ready with a few chatty cathy breaks to make sure my date is all good and to let him know that I have not forgotten about him. So once I am ready we open the sail and off we go.
Now, another side note, for those of you who know me best, my second trait is what? That's right. SOCIAL. I like to people watch and talk to randoms. I like crowds. Especially on an awkward first date. But Star Wars does not like crowds so guess who won? Not this girl (Strike One). I oblige... I can have fun anywhere...ooooor so I thought. I learned a few things on this date that I did not know prior. 1. We really did not have the same sense of humor AT ALL. 2. Apparently I am a high class snob because he pointed out twice that I ordered the more expensive vodka (Ketel One vs Absolut) and 3. This guy is into Star Wars. Like REALLY into Star Wars... like has Star Wars bed sheets into Star Wars.
I tried my damnest to make this guy laugh, but the only thing he found funny was the giant blow-up soda bottle at some baseball field that he stopped me mid-sentence to point out. The game was certainly winning this man's attention over as he interrupted me numerous times to cheer it on or point something out. Now to be fair to him he HAD warned me about his love for baseball, but umm.. "Hi. I am T and we are on a DATE" (Strike Two). Finally, I should have known when I apologized for being late (to which he pointed out that if he was who he 'was' a year ago he would have swiftly walked out my apartment door with not so much as a good-bye because how DARE someone keep HIM waiting (ok he did not say those words exactly but the message was loud and clear)) that he did not quite see what took me so long to get ready. Dude... you just failed. I could get past the fact that you have a freakishly large obsession for Star Wars, I could get past the fact that you stared at that damn television screen more than my 'what took me so long to do' hair, but when you do not agree that it/I was worth the extra wait... three strikes you are OUT! This ship was ready to set sail... as soon as he kindly dropped me off.
Stay tuned because Adventures in Dating Hell is to be continued. . .
This is where the fun begins. These are not in any particular order, but more so just as they come back to mind, here are some stories about dates that I think we can ALL appreciate and thorougly enjoy.
Cokehead: Cokehead was by far the worst date I had ever been on (up to that point). I met Cokehead through a good friend of mine at a house party. I did not talk to him much that evening, but later on that night, after he got ahold of my cellphone and oh-so-slyly added his name, cell phone number AND e-mail address to my contacts list and then set it back down, I received a text saying "Odd. I like you". Like I should feel so special, right? Well, Cokehead was not my type, but he asked me out a few times so I finally thought "Why not. What harm could be done. As my mother would so often say- You never know...". So away I went. We met at a beer garden where we enjoyed ... beer... but also some appetizers. I often look back on this date and think that perhaps Cokehead should have eaten more because as the afternoon progressed he got a little too bold. From the get go things were off to a bad start. What I should have done, instead of sticking out the few hours of the date that I did, was turn and run as fast as I could out those iron cast gates before the dragon opened his mouth and spewed his fiery breath all over me in a feeble attempt to char my tough skin.
The first words out of Cokehead's mouth before I even had the pleasure of 'sitting down for it' was "I can already tell you aren't that interested in me". Woah. Well that set the tone right there, didn't it? But did I grab my keys and head for the door? No, I put on my pretty smile and said "Would you mind if I atleast sit down first?" Very quickly I found that I did not feel like I was on a date, but felt more like I was on an interview. When I said "I like to cook", he said "Good, I need someone to cook for me". When I said "I like to run and workout", he said "Good, I need someone to motivate me to get in shape". Round and round we went. When he asked my age and I did not ask his for the simple fact that I knew an approximation and that was good enough for me at this point in time (and I simply just did not care), he got offended and told me that it was "obvious I did not want to know anything about him since I talked about myself so much". Umm... sorry Cokehead, but it is called Q&A. We ask each other questions and the other one answers. I cannot help that you are hyped up on your 4th beer and wanting to know way more about me than I want to know about you (i.e. Winner! You were correct! I am not that interested in you, your bike, your money or the fact that we are both dating other people at this exact moment). We had walked around for a bit after the ever so amusing Talks with Cokehead in Beer Garden (he insisted on holding my hand during this little private soiree and I did oblige considering the fact that I didn't want him to fall in the water and I would have to ruin my hair by jumping in after his drunk ass). Apparently, holding hands=I will agree to follow that action up with a kiss. Standing by a fountain, Cokehead leans in for the prize and is ... DENIED. He seemed stunned. How could I resist him?? So wouldn't you know... he comes flying in with his second attempt in case I had a lapse of judgement perhaps? DENIED. One more stop at a bar to laugh it off while I secretly compile my story to tell my friends and it was time to get the hell out of Dodge. So how did the date end? With a bang of course! A bang that should have been my fist meeting his face, but was instead my car door closing loudly so that I could finally take a deep breath.
Oh and you are probably wondering why I refer to this one as Cokehead. Well, about a month or so later I heard a rumor that this particular date had a bit of a drug addiction and may have been under the influence at the time. I would like to say that that explains a lot, but future discussions proved that my date was not just a possible Cokehead, but was a definite Douchebag at the least.
So after Cokehead came some randoms (some good, some bad, some not worth mentioning):
There was U.S. Mmmarine. There are no words to describe how gorgeous and amazing this U.S. Marine man of mystery was. The best I can come up with is YUM. He was a head turner for sure. My first thought when seeing this Cuban god across the bar was that he was no doubt taken. Which is why I was prepared for the let down when I went to offer to buy him his third drink after he guzzled down his second while standing around alone. Was he waiting for someone? Perhaps his blonde goddess of love? Well, damn, I figured I better get in there and show him that the brunette Hera could be just as good as the blonde Aprhodite. Hera was married to Zeus after all... So there I went and floated next to my Cuban god. I offered to buy him a drink in which he pleasantly denied, so I figured... ok... he has already had two drinks down in 5 minutes, so perhaps a shot? Again, I was sweetly denied. As I turned to leave just happy with the whole 30 seconds of Cuban bliss I hear 'Wait. Can I buy you a drink?" Sold! to the Golden god of Goodness. Our dating did not last long, but he sure knew how to treat a lady. He took me to the best places around. He asked to see me every day. His voice was soft, his kisses were shy, and his attention was undying. Dream come true. Sure he was a few years my junior, but who-in-the-sam-hell-cared?! Not I! So what happened?? He was going away to graduate school in Illinois and did not think a long-distance thing would work; not to mention communications was his passion and most likely would not keep him grounded in the good ol' U.S. of A. Can I blame him? If no longer in the same zip code? He was much to honest to apply that 'rule'. I cannot say I blame him for wanting to spread that beauty around the world. So away he went to be someone else's god of goodness.
After a few more miscellaneous and not-worth-mentioning dates came Star Wars: Star Wars was easily Worst Date Ever No. 2. Star Wars seemed like a pretty good thing. He liked a post I made on a friend's facebook page and from there we hit it off. Caveat: he did not live in WI, but was within driving range... if you did not mind 7 hours of driving. But I had nothing else going on and you never know. So we kept up our chatting. Turns out not long after communcation started, Star Wars was planning on coming in to town! Yeah! Now we get to meet in person. This is going to be great! What could go wrong?! Not even God could sink this ship.... Well, I did not need God to sink the ship, Star Wars did fine all by himself. As those of you who know me well know I have one particular, unfailing trait. What is it? BEING LATE. Always. If I am on-time...then that must mean I am dead and it is my funeral. Now to play fair I gave Star Wars the warning before he came to pick me up at my apartment. Yes, I said pick me up... never again. Lesson learned number 3: Always, always, always drive yourself to the first date because when the going gets rough, the rough gets going (repeatedly) to the restroom to take a breather as it is the only escape. So Star Wars shows up early and as if on cue I am running around still trying to get ready. But I got this covered. I am always prepared at least! I am a cool chick. I hook him up with a cold beer, a comfy couch and The Hangover playing on my 32" inch screen (ooooh.... aaaahhhh... shut up!). So I continue getting ready with a few chatty cathy breaks to make sure my date is all good and to let him know that I have not forgotten about him. So once I am ready we open the sail and off we go.
Now, another side note, for those of you who know me best, my second trait is what? That's right. SOCIAL. I like to people watch and talk to randoms. I like crowds. Especially on an awkward first date. But Star Wars does not like crowds so guess who won? Not this girl (Strike One). I oblige... I can have fun anywhere...ooooor so I thought. I learned a few things on this date that I did not know prior. 1. We really did not have the same sense of humor AT ALL. 2. Apparently I am a high class snob because he pointed out twice that I ordered the more expensive vodka (Ketel One vs Absolut) and 3. This guy is into Star Wars. Like REALLY into Star Wars... like has Star Wars bed sheets into Star Wars.
I tried my damnest to make this guy laugh, but the only thing he found funny was the giant blow-up soda bottle at some baseball field that he stopped me mid-sentence to point out. The game was certainly winning this man's attention over as he interrupted me numerous times to cheer it on or point something out. Now to be fair to him he HAD warned me about his love for baseball, but umm.. "Hi. I am T and we are on a DATE" (Strike Two). Finally, I should have known when I apologized for being late (to which he pointed out that if he was who he 'was' a year ago he would have swiftly walked out my apartment door with not so much as a good-bye because how DARE someone keep HIM waiting (ok he did not say those words exactly but the message was loud and clear)) that he did not quite see what took me so long to get ready. Dude... you just failed. I could get past the fact that you have a freakishly large obsession for Star Wars, I could get past the fact that you stared at that damn television screen more than my 'what took me so long to do' hair, but when you do not agree that it/I was worth the extra wait... three strikes you are OUT! This ship was ready to set sail... as soon as he kindly dropped me off.
Stay tuned because Adventures in Dating Hell is to be continued. . .
The Original Four
I wish I had started this part of my blog as it was all going down. There are some dates I would have loved to tell detail by detail because they were just THAT "GOOD". But since I do not have the time, nor the energy, to recap the past 2.5 years of dating hell, I will throw in a paragraph or two for your enjoyment to see just what I mean about the dating world I have come to know and experience: (WARNING: Some things may get personal, r-rated, hilarious, and shocking! If you do not want to know... DO NOT READ. No actual names will be posted, but if one of these dates should ever end up reading this... you will know who you are!).
I almost do not know where to begin other than the beginning. It is funny when I think back to what I call my Original Four when I entered back into the dating world. I really did not think that I would eventually go through as many good, horrible, entertaining, and embarassing dates as I have; but as previously mentioned, there was almost always something to be learned from each date. I often times would love to sit down and count out just how many dates I have been on, but on the other hand ... I really do not want to know.
The Original Four: The Original Four was a mesh of 4 good-looking men that were all very different and brand-new to me. I had never met them before. Three of the four were through someone I knew and one was a random chance meeting. I met them and dated them all fairly close together and yes, at times, overlapping. It all began in the Summer of 2009.
Side notes for this and future blogs: With those that I was truly interested in and had invested time into, it usually went down like this (not ALWAYS mind you. There are ALWAYS exceptions. Important to note this before my reputation gets thorougly soured!): First comes the charm; then the nice, impressive, fancy date; then the numerous mock dates of sitting at home drinking beer or wine and watching movies on some oversized television screen while getting to know more about each other; then (sorry mom and dad) the "hook up". Lastly, as one can wisely guess, it all goes to the burning flames of hell after that and the true personality comes out. I like to refer to it as the 'Douchebag' personality.
Here we go:
Time Warner: This was a gorgeous, blue-eyed hottie that helped me out when First Love stood me up when I tried to cancel the internet service he had set up at MY apartment, but under HIS name. It was a thoughtful gift, but since our relationship had turned sour I wanted to invest in some sort of Time Warner PACKAGED deal so I could get internet and cable to sit on my couch and properly mourn over the loss of our relationship. So up to Time Warner I went with steam coming out of my ears that First Love had the guts to be such a jerk and not show up! Begging for help to cancel the service that I did not know the account number or password for, I found a different kind of opportunity. Lucky for me Time Warner was single and ready to mingle (thanks to my inquisitive question of "You aren't by chance seeing anyone are you??" Cue batting eyelashes). However, after the fancy dinner date and mock dates, I found that my beautiful Time Warner was not ready to settle down in any way shape or form. And when it came time to start enjoying life together out in PUBLIC... I walked out the door and turned just in time to see it being swiftly shut in my face. Well, I learned two things here: 1. I had more courage then I ever thought to have even taken that bold step and asked him out and 2. I could get dates on my own and not just through friends of friends, so on and so forth. YEE-HAW!
Next was Basketball: Wow. Tall... really tall...dark, handsome, great smile, dimples, extremely smart and successful, outgoing, funny, hotttt, basketball player. It had been a long time since I had 'crushed' on someone and this one got me. I knew about him through my boss at work, but actually met up with him during Summerfest. I was hooked. This was it. I found my next serious boyfriend. No doubt. Gonna happen. Cannot wait for him to meet my family. Yes, I was OBSESSED. Monkey wrench? Oh yes. He was a big wig working his way up, just out of a serious relationship and the last thing on his P90X focused brain was dating no matter who the hell I was, how hard I tried, or how long I patiently waited. Not. Going. To. Happen. ... Damn.
At the same time, same summer event, I also met Bad Boy Skater: Someone like him had never really been my type, but I did not feel that I should stick only to my usual 'type' (Tall, athletic, preppyish, funny, boyish face, nice nose, GREAT smile). Now BBS had some of the preferred traits, such as: he had the boyish face, nice smile; but definitely on the shorter side and not prep/athletic in anyway. But definitely nice to look at. Well, let me tell you about THIS one and WHY I really should just stick to 'my type'. I did not even notice him in the crowd of men gathered around my gorgeous mexican chica of a friend. (I cannot take the girl anywhere that she does know half the crowd!). So BBS came over to me and swooned the heck out of me. Oh yes, I should have read Every Single Player Sign he threw at me, but give me a break! Helllllooooo I was new to dating in the 2000's. So I would not say I sucked it up like a sponge, but it definitely seeped in. Well, let's just say I learned a lot from BBS... but not necessarily in the best sense of the word. I needed that though, I needed some sort of warning about players, like him, so I cannot be too upset about how things went down. We had a 'date' where we met at a random bar. (Should have known that if he was not even going to fancy me with dinner this was going to go downhill REAL quick). Had a nice chat, learned a few things and set up another 'date'... at another bar. Fast forward to Scene 12, Date 2: We met at one of the most meat-market of bars out there (I can feel the head shakes, but come on! I was trying to be open to new things and have a good time and not be such a snobby bitch!). Here we both proceeded to get quite tipsy... ok I was flat out piss drunk. We managed to go back to his place because it was close and there was no way in hell I was driving home in this condition. And THAT is how I had my first and only one night stand. Lesson learned number 2: If he talks like a player, takes you to some shady bars and calls them dates, and insists you come over because he kept buying you rounds and now you are too drunk to drive home... do NOT be surprised when you later learn his ex-girlfriend is pregnant with his child and receive a text, while you are on vacation with your family in Florida, saying "I found someone way better than you and am super happy". I had it coming. Lucky for me it was nothing off my back and I was happy to be done with that whooooole situation. But I learned a LOT of important things through BBS; such as: how to spot a player and why safe sex is a must! So my thanks to you Douchebag!
Lastly, was Eight and Nine: Eight and Nine was a TOTAL gentleman. Looks, brains, formal family, you name it. So, T, what went wrong? He just simply was not my type. Humor is a big.. big big big big thing for me. And Eight and Nine (who earned his nickname from some dental work he had done and my oh-so-subtle Chica friend called him out on it) simply could not keep up with my crazy sense of humor. Did he make me laugh? Oh sure, but was it the kind of hysterical laugh that I used to get from First Love and now knew I simply could not live without? Sadly, no. And then there was the fact that I simply felt I could possibly walk all over him without him blinking so much as an eye. No good from my stand point. I love a good fight. And if I do not get one every now and then, I admit I will find a way to get one. "Hi. My name is T and I like to pick fights". It's good for venting. Besides, who doesn't like the 'making up' part! (Be honest now!) And perhaps he just downright scared me. Inside I was feeling the whole "he is probably ready for something really serious and I am just starting back out in the dating world and don't think I am ready yet!" So I said my sad (hope I do not regret this) good-bye to Eight and Nine. Did not feel quite so bad when later I found out he was actually going on dates with another gal of whom subsequently showed up later at the wedding both he and I were attending as his after-dinner mint... errr... date.
I almost do not know where to begin other than the beginning. It is funny when I think back to what I call my Original Four when I entered back into the dating world. I really did not think that I would eventually go through as many good, horrible, entertaining, and embarassing dates as I have; but as previously mentioned, there was almost always something to be learned from each date. I often times would love to sit down and count out just how many dates I have been on, but on the other hand ... I really do not want to know.
The Original Four: The Original Four was a mesh of 4 good-looking men that were all very different and brand-new to me. I had never met them before. Three of the four were through someone I knew and one was a random chance meeting. I met them and dated them all fairly close together and yes, at times, overlapping. It all began in the Summer of 2009.
Side notes for this and future blogs: With those that I was truly interested in and had invested time into, it usually went down like this (not ALWAYS mind you. There are ALWAYS exceptions. Important to note this before my reputation gets thorougly soured!): First comes the charm; then the nice, impressive, fancy date; then the numerous mock dates of sitting at home drinking beer or wine and watching movies on some oversized television screen while getting to know more about each other; then (sorry mom and dad) the "hook up". Lastly, as one can wisely guess, it all goes to the burning flames of hell after that and the true personality comes out. I like to refer to it as the 'Douchebag' personality.
Here we go:
Time Warner: This was a gorgeous, blue-eyed hottie that helped me out when First Love stood me up when I tried to cancel the internet service he had set up at MY apartment, but under HIS name. It was a thoughtful gift, but since our relationship had turned sour I wanted to invest in some sort of Time Warner PACKAGED deal so I could get internet and cable to sit on my couch and properly mourn over the loss of our relationship. So up to Time Warner I went with steam coming out of my ears that First Love had the guts to be such a jerk and not show up! Begging for help to cancel the service that I did not know the account number or password for, I found a different kind of opportunity. Lucky for me Time Warner was single and ready to mingle (thanks to my inquisitive question of "You aren't by chance seeing anyone are you??" Cue batting eyelashes). However, after the fancy dinner date and mock dates, I found that my beautiful Time Warner was not ready to settle down in any way shape or form. And when it came time to start enjoying life together out in PUBLIC... I walked out the door and turned just in time to see it being swiftly shut in my face. Well, I learned two things here: 1. I had more courage then I ever thought to have even taken that bold step and asked him out and 2. I could get dates on my own and not just through friends of friends, so on and so forth. YEE-HAW!
Next was Basketball: Wow. Tall... really tall...dark, handsome, great smile, dimples, extremely smart and successful, outgoing, funny, hotttt, basketball player. It had been a long time since I had 'crushed' on someone and this one got me. I knew about him through my boss at work, but actually met up with him during Summerfest. I was hooked. This was it. I found my next serious boyfriend. No doubt. Gonna happen. Cannot wait for him to meet my family. Yes, I was OBSESSED. Monkey wrench? Oh yes. He was a big wig working his way up, just out of a serious relationship and the last thing on his P90X focused brain was dating no matter who the hell I was, how hard I tried, or how long I patiently waited. Not. Going. To. Happen. ... Damn.
At the same time, same summer event, I also met Bad Boy Skater: Someone like him had never really been my type, but I did not feel that I should stick only to my usual 'type' (Tall, athletic, preppyish, funny, boyish face, nice nose, GREAT smile). Now BBS had some of the preferred traits, such as: he had the boyish face, nice smile; but definitely on the shorter side and not prep/athletic in anyway. But definitely nice to look at. Well, let me tell you about THIS one and WHY I really should just stick to 'my type'. I did not even notice him in the crowd of men gathered around my gorgeous mexican chica of a friend. (I cannot take the girl anywhere that she does know half the crowd!). So BBS came over to me and swooned the heck out of me. Oh yes, I should have read Every Single Player Sign he threw at me, but give me a break! Helllllooooo I was new to dating in the 2000's. So I would not say I sucked it up like a sponge, but it definitely seeped in. Well, let's just say I learned a lot from BBS... but not necessarily in the best sense of the word. I needed that though, I needed some sort of warning about players, like him, so I cannot be too upset about how things went down. We had a 'date' where we met at a random bar. (Should have known that if he was not even going to fancy me with dinner this was going to go downhill REAL quick). Had a nice chat, learned a few things and set up another 'date'... at another bar. Fast forward to Scene 12, Date 2: We met at one of the most meat-market of bars out there (I can feel the head shakes, but come on! I was trying to be open to new things and have a good time and not be such a snobby bitch!). Here we both proceeded to get quite tipsy... ok I was flat out piss drunk. We managed to go back to his place because it was close and there was no way in hell I was driving home in this condition. And THAT is how I had my first and only one night stand. Lesson learned number 2: If he talks like a player, takes you to some shady bars and calls them dates, and insists you come over because he kept buying you rounds and now you are too drunk to drive home... do NOT be surprised when you later learn his ex-girlfriend is pregnant with his child and receive a text, while you are on vacation with your family in Florida, saying "I found someone way better than you and am super happy". I had it coming. Lucky for me it was nothing off my back and I was happy to be done with that whooooole situation. But I learned a LOT of important things through BBS; such as: how to spot a player and why safe sex is a must! So my thanks to you Douchebag!
Lastly, was Eight and Nine: Eight and Nine was a TOTAL gentleman. Looks, brains, formal family, you name it. So, T, what went wrong? He just simply was not my type. Humor is a big.. big big big big thing for me. And Eight and Nine (who earned his nickname from some dental work he had done and my oh-so-subtle Chica friend called him out on it) simply could not keep up with my crazy sense of humor. Did he make me laugh? Oh sure, but was it the kind of hysterical laugh that I used to get from First Love and now knew I simply could not live without? Sadly, no. And then there was the fact that I simply felt I could possibly walk all over him without him blinking so much as an eye. No good from my stand point. I love a good fight. And if I do not get one every now and then, I admit I will find a way to get one. "Hi. My name is T and I like to pick fights". It's good for venting. Besides, who doesn't like the 'making up' part! (Be honest now!) And perhaps he just downright scared me. Inside I was feeling the whole "he is probably ready for something really serious and I am just starting back out in the dating world and don't think I am ready yet!" So I said my sad (hope I do not regret this) good-bye to Eight and Nine. Did not feel quite so bad when later I found out he was actually going on dates with another gal of whom subsequently showed up later at the wedding both he and I were attending as his after-dinner mint... errr... date.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Dating 101:
Considering the fact that I was with my First Love (as he will now be named) for the beginning part of my pubescent days and then my Ex-Husband (as he will now be named) for almost 11 years after and then BACK to First Love, I never really got to play the "Dating Game". So after nearly 3 months of crying and feeling like downright junk, I was ready to get out of bed, shower, and walk through the door of my apartment to show the world how awesome I was and what they had been missing while I was living in the World of Coupledom.
You know you are getting older and out of touch with the dating world when: 1. You think that every good looking man is your age but come to find that most of them are close to 6 years younger than you, 2. You find that you have an extensive amount of courage and YOU are the one going up asking the cutie if he is 'available' or would like a drink (because you are sick of him staring at you across the bar and not coming over), and 3. Anything goes because for MOST of the good-looking single guys out there, the end result is simply trying to get you in bed. They are, after all, good-looking and single for a reason, right?
Yup I said it. Gone are the days where the first date must be followed by a second and maybe by the third date there is the first kiss. From what I have found, whether it be because I had never done the whole date after date scenerio or because being in my late 20's really WAS that much of a difference in world views or because I simply had a different mind set about what was to be expected, dating sucked and the whole 'not right for me' scenerio was just a b.s. excuse for "I cannot find all the non-losers". You know where they were (and still are)? Working, staying in and saving money, studying and completely oblivious to their surrounding because they are "content" with where they are and what they are doing right now. Oh... or already married or in a 'serious' relationship. It seems that while I was off in la-la land trying to PLAN and force feed myself a perfect life with the wrong man... all the normal, better-match-for-me ones were being sucked up. I honestly feel as though I am just patiently waiting for the wave of divorces to come through so that I can snatch up the 'Right One'. I always WAS ahead of the game it seemed.
I apologize. Am I sounding a little bitter? Well, there is a good reason for that... because I am! But I do feel better having ranted and raved because in all reality, with the risk of being oh so cliche and corny, I do believe God has a plan and that things go the way they go for a reason. But damnit if I do not get irritated that I have put in the work and my paycheck got lost in the mail while everyone seems to have received theirs ... along with an added bonus!
So back to dating: I hate it. I cannot say that there ever was a point that I truly enjoyed it or am CURRENTLY enjoying it. I do not like the odd first meeting, the "who is going to make the first move", the "who is going to make the first phone call", the 'IS he going to call?", the "where should we go because I love seafood and he does not eat things that once had a head on it", the thinking of "I don't like you.. I don't like you... please don't try to kiss me... or ever call me again for that matter..." The list goes on. It's not fun and I feel fortunate that I was able to skip this as long as I have, but I also feel fortunate that I have been FORCED to do this because what I have learned is priceless. There were times that things were so bad that all I could do was laugh my way through it all and thank them for the story they left me with to tell me friends about later.
Cue first dating experiences after Ex-Husband and First Love:
It all mainly started around the end of June 2009. Feeling like schmack but showing my bright white smile and newly fake-baked tan skin, I cautiously walked into the hot summer sun and the scorcing flames of hell... err... dating. Perhaps I should have been more cautious, or at the least forwarned! Dating is BRU-TAL. I always knew I had some naivety to me. I have always been extremely caring and definitely overtrusting of people. Why would someone lie just to get me to go on a date with them? I am no Jessica Alba here. I am nothing special. These were just really nice guys that were doing the gentlemanly thing of sweet talking and showboating... right? ... RIGHT??
WRONG. Lesson learned number 1: If they say things that are too good to be true... they ARE. Guys are good. Really good at their "job". They see the things they know people most likely compliment you on and amp it up to make it the best thing someone has ever said to you. Maybe they could see the innocent look in my 'most beautiful eyes they have ever seen'. The innocence of "Hi. I am confident, ready to be social and make new friends". Ok.. yes... "and go on a date too". But I believe in their mind they visualized something else too. Instead of seeing TRUST (which was how I saw it), they were seeing EASY. So they bought me a drink, said nice confidence boosting things, treated me like I was the best thing they had come across in years, then followed it all up with some fancy schmancy date. But at the end of the night if they did not get what they felt they had came for, which was not humor mixed in with intellectual converstaion, then.... Buzzzzzz! Game over.
And my naive, new to this dating thing self am left standing there thinking "WHAT the HELL just happened?!" Ok. Yes. To all of you outsiders it was so obvious wasn't it? "You did not put out 'T' ". Problem solved. It was not you they wanted per se, it is what they mistakingly thought you had to offer. EASY. Oh...Silly me.
And thus, round and round I go. Not wanting to believe that SO MANY MEN could be that horrible, but I have since found out repeatedly that that is simply the case. For every decent man that did not work out for one reason or another.. there were 7 sneaky ones lurking in the dark ready to pounce at the first acknowledgement of their presence.
You know you are getting older and out of touch with the dating world when: 1. You think that every good looking man is your age but come to find that most of them are close to 6 years younger than you, 2. You find that you have an extensive amount of courage and YOU are the one going up asking the cutie if he is 'available' or would like a drink (because you are sick of him staring at you across the bar and not coming over), and 3. Anything goes because for MOST of the good-looking single guys out there, the end result is simply trying to get you in bed. They are, after all, good-looking and single for a reason, right?
Yup I said it. Gone are the days where the first date must be followed by a second and maybe by the third date there is the first kiss. From what I have found, whether it be because I had never done the whole date after date scenerio or because being in my late 20's really WAS that much of a difference in world views or because I simply had a different mind set about what was to be expected, dating sucked and the whole 'not right for me' scenerio was just a b.s. excuse for "I cannot find all the non-losers". You know where they were (and still are)? Working, staying in and saving money, studying and completely oblivious to their surrounding because they are "content" with where they are and what they are doing right now. Oh... or already married or in a 'serious' relationship. It seems that while I was off in la-la land trying to PLAN and force feed myself a perfect life with the wrong man... all the normal, better-match-for-me ones were being sucked up. I honestly feel as though I am just patiently waiting for the wave of divorces to come through so that I can snatch up the 'Right One'. I always WAS ahead of the game it seemed.
I apologize. Am I sounding a little bitter? Well, there is a good reason for that... because I am! But I do feel better having ranted and raved because in all reality, with the risk of being oh so cliche and corny, I do believe God has a plan and that things go the way they go for a reason. But damnit if I do not get irritated that I have put in the work and my paycheck got lost in the mail while everyone seems to have received theirs ... along with an added bonus!
So back to dating: I hate it. I cannot say that there ever was a point that I truly enjoyed it or am CURRENTLY enjoying it. I do not like the odd first meeting, the "who is going to make the first move", the "who is going to make the first phone call", the 'IS he going to call?", the "where should we go because I love seafood and he does not eat things that once had a head on it", the thinking of "I don't like you.. I don't like you... please don't try to kiss me... or ever call me again for that matter..." The list goes on. It's not fun and I feel fortunate that I was able to skip this as long as I have, but I also feel fortunate that I have been FORCED to do this because what I have learned is priceless. There were times that things were so bad that all I could do was laugh my way through it all and thank them for the story they left me with to tell me friends about later.
Cue first dating experiences after Ex-Husband and First Love:
It all mainly started around the end of June 2009. Feeling like schmack but showing my bright white smile and newly fake-baked tan skin, I cautiously walked into the hot summer sun and the scorcing flames of hell... err... dating. Perhaps I should have been more cautious, or at the least forwarned! Dating is BRU-TAL. I always knew I had some naivety to me. I have always been extremely caring and definitely overtrusting of people. Why would someone lie just to get me to go on a date with them? I am no Jessica Alba here. I am nothing special. These were just really nice guys that were doing the gentlemanly thing of sweet talking and showboating... right? ... RIGHT??
WRONG. Lesson learned number 1: If they say things that are too good to be true... they ARE. Guys are good. Really good at their "job". They see the things they know people most likely compliment you on and amp it up to make it the best thing someone has ever said to you. Maybe they could see the innocent look in my 'most beautiful eyes they have ever seen'. The innocence of "Hi. I am confident, ready to be social and make new friends". Ok.. yes... "and go on a date too". But I believe in their mind they visualized something else too. Instead of seeing TRUST (which was how I saw it), they were seeing EASY. So they bought me a drink, said nice confidence boosting things, treated me like I was the best thing they had come across in years, then followed it all up with some fancy schmancy date. But at the end of the night if they did not get what they felt they had came for, which was not humor mixed in with intellectual converstaion, then.... Buzzzzzz! Game over.
And my naive, new to this dating thing self am left standing there thinking "WHAT the HELL just happened?!" Ok. Yes. To all of you outsiders it was so obvious wasn't it? "You did not put out 'T' ". Problem solved. It was not you they wanted per se, it is what they mistakingly thought you had to offer. EASY. Oh...Silly me.
And thus, round and round I go. Not wanting to believe that SO MANY MEN could be that horrible, but I have since found out repeatedly that that is simply the case. For every decent man that did not work out for one reason or another.. there were 7 sneaky ones lurking in the dark ready to pounce at the first acknowledgement of their presence.
Living Alone in My High Rise Apartment
Ok, so maybe it wasn't a high rise... maybe it was just a second floor apartment in Waukesha, but either way it all held the same meaning: Single, Self-Sufficient, and Scared-out-of-my-freaking-mind.
I had never done this before. I had met my now soon-to-be-alot-of-titles not long after my 17th birthday. I had lived at home with my parents in New Berlin while communting to the grand classrooms of UW-Milwaukee. My last year of college I was engaged and that summer my soon-to-be-husband and I moved into a wonderful one bedroom, spacious apartment in New Berlin together.
I never lived alone, but there I was a just-turned 28 year old living on her own for the first time in her life. I was lucky in the way that I found a two bedroom, two full-bath, wonderfully sized kitchen apartment that I could afford. The sad part was... I never wanted to spend time there! The quiet drove me nuts. It took me well over 6 months to finally stop looking for the answering machine that was at my 'old residence' to see if there were any messages. Thankfully, I had my two beautiful cats (Sophia and Oscar) to welcome me home, or I just may have never gone 'home'.
I will never forget seeing my mom cry for the first time in my adult life out of the emotional pain she saw her youngest daughter, the baby of the familiy, going through. It was for ME... she was crying for me. Standing outside in the dark, wintery cold thanking everyone for their help with the move, I turned to my mom. I did not want it to happen but the tears came. "Mom... I am scared." And there we hugged and cried together at this turn in my life that neither of us had ever seen coming.
Now, let's back track a tad here. My ex and I decided to seperate, as in rings-off-our-separate-lives-begin-now, in August of 2008. We decided that since we still had a house to decide what to do with, I would live in the house and he would do a slight move into his parent's home not too far away until some more decisions could be made. Through some hemming and hawing, my ex decided he wanted to keep the house (which I honestly was SO THANKFUL for because I could not even IMAGINE selling that home to strangers) and I moved out into my own place on December 1, 2008.
Now, here's where it gets interesting. We all have that first love, right? That one person we always wondered what it would have been like to have had a life with as an adult... some people don't have to wonder because they get to marry their first loves like my own sister did! But for me my first love was a boy I met when I was 14. I thought he was the biggest nerd when I first met him (I also thought the same about my future boyfriend turned fiancee turned husband turned ex-husband so this must be a good thing if I first find a man to be a nerd...or is it?!) ANYWAYS, so after some time and hours and hours of phone talks and short meetings, I fell head over heels for the tall, blue-eyed, thin, 15 year old blonde boy that lived straight down Cleveland Avenue from my parent's home. We were in love... disgustingly in love... like stare into each other's eyes, spend every day together, make you want to puke love. Young love that is so innocent, but yet, when your heart is broken, I swear it hurts so much more that first time around. The unexpected. The "what just happened?!". He was 17, I was 16. So there I was in July of 1997 wanting to retch on the perfectly green grass my dad just finished mowing, watching him drive off down my street in his parent's blue station wagon. That was the last time I saw him... until the late summer of 2008.
Thanks to good ol' facebook, I found him one day. And from there it all just took off like a bat out of hell. We were reunited and I felt like a high school teenager all over again. Excited to have this very rare second chance with the first person I had ever truly loved. But in gets thrown the monkey wrench. I was not quite ready for this. My life was taking a HUGE, HARD step forward? back? and I was getting a divorce. I was not emotionally ready to be giddy and "in love" again. I just could not enjoy this situation that way I would have liked. So things got messy and about 5 months after re-uniting and my heart being too torn on what was right and wrong about all the current events in my life, my first love and I had a falling out. A hard one. My divorced was legalized and now that I was more ready to move on... my first love, having had it with my emotional turmoil and not wanting to wait it out and understand how hard and confusing this all was, was also ready to move on... to another woman (well immature, much younger than him girl in my opinion...).
Bordering on severe depression and 18 lbs lighter, I finally learned how to fully live alone.
I had never done this before. I had met my now soon-to-be-alot-of-titles not long after my 17th birthday. I had lived at home with my parents in New Berlin while communting to the grand classrooms of UW-Milwaukee. My last year of college I was engaged and that summer my soon-to-be-husband and I moved into a wonderful one bedroom, spacious apartment in New Berlin together.
I never lived alone, but there I was a just-turned 28 year old living on her own for the first time in her life. I was lucky in the way that I found a two bedroom, two full-bath, wonderfully sized kitchen apartment that I could afford. The sad part was... I never wanted to spend time there! The quiet drove me nuts. It took me well over 6 months to finally stop looking for the answering machine that was at my 'old residence' to see if there were any messages. Thankfully, I had my two beautiful cats (Sophia and Oscar) to welcome me home, or I just may have never gone 'home'.
I will never forget seeing my mom cry for the first time in my adult life out of the emotional pain she saw her youngest daughter, the baby of the familiy, going through. It was for ME... she was crying for me. Standing outside in the dark, wintery cold thanking everyone for their help with the move, I turned to my mom. I did not want it to happen but the tears came. "Mom... I am scared." And there we hugged and cried together at this turn in my life that neither of us had ever seen coming.
Now, let's back track a tad here. My ex and I decided to seperate, as in rings-off-our-separate-lives-begin-now, in August of 2008. We decided that since we still had a house to decide what to do with, I would live in the house and he would do a slight move into his parent's home not too far away until some more decisions could be made. Through some hemming and hawing, my ex decided he wanted to keep the house (which I honestly was SO THANKFUL for because I could not even IMAGINE selling that home to strangers) and I moved out into my own place on December 1, 2008.
Now, here's where it gets interesting. We all have that first love, right? That one person we always wondered what it would have been like to have had a life with as an adult... some people don't have to wonder because they get to marry their first loves like my own sister did! But for me my first love was a boy I met when I was 14. I thought he was the biggest nerd when I first met him (I also thought the same about my future boyfriend turned fiancee turned husband turned ex-husband so this must be a good thing if I first find a man to be a nerd...or is it?!) ANYWAYS, so after some time and hours and hours of phone talks and short meetings, I fell head over heels for the tall, blue-eyed, thin, 15 year old blonde boy that lived straight down Cleveland Avenue from my parent's home. We were in love... disgustingly in love... like stare into each other's eyes, spend every day together, make you want to puke love. Young love that is so innocent, but yet, when your heart is broken, I swear it hurts so much more that first time around. The unexpected. The "what just happened?!". He was 17, I was 16. So there I was in July of 1997 wanting to retch on the perfectly green grass my dad just finished mowing, watching him drive off down my street in his parent's blue station wagon. That was the last time I saw him... until the late summer of 2008.
Thanks to good ol' facebook, I found him one day. And from there it all just took off like a bat out of hell. We were reunited and I felt like a high school teenager all over again. Excited to have this very rare second chance with the first person I had ever truly loved. But in gets thrown the monkey wrench. I was not quite ready for this. My life was taking a HUGE, HARD step forward? back? and I was getting a divorce. I was not emotionally ready to be giddy and "in love" again. I just could not enjoy this situation that way I would have liked. So things got messy and about 5 months after re-uniting and my heart being too torn on what was right and wrong about all the current events in my life, my first love and I had a falling out. A hard one. My divorced was legalized and now that I was more ready to move on... my first love, having had it with my emotional turmoil and not wanting to wait it out and understand how hard and confusing this all was, was also ready to move on... to another woman (well immature, much younger than him girl in my opinion...).
Bordering on severe depression and 18 lbs lighter, I finally learned how to fully live alone.
My First Blog
So why I am starting a blog?... A site where people can look into my private life and laugh and cry and criticize? Because you never know where life is going to lead and I have found mine to be one crazy trip. I want to write it down to remember it and I want to write it down so that others can see what my life and what my MIND is all about. Not to mention, too often people have asked me... "Do you have a blog? You should..." Here goes: (Let he who be without sin cast the first stone)
Where to begin...? I guess a good starting point would be when everything I knew and wanted and worked for and had hoped for all blew up in my perfectly tanned face.
It was June of 2008. Approaching my third year of being happily married. Or so everyone thought.
The downfall came on our second evening in Niagara Falls. My husband and I had had an excellent day. We saw the falls, walked underneath them, rode on the "Maid of the Mist". It was fabulous. Had dinner at a wonderful restaurant that overlooked the falls and enjoyed some cocktails after dinner. Wait... let me rephrase that last part: TRIED to enjoy some cocktails after dinner. All it took was one final, repeated, horrible argument to set the ball rolling. The next morning we packed our bags and headed home ending our vacation much too short.
From there on it was a long ride home and an even longer process of crying, talking and hurting before months later the final decision would be made and my marriage was officially on it's way out of the beautiful home we had made into our own for the past 2 years. Out of respect for myself, my ex-husband and the bond we once shared, as much as you would all love the juicy details, the past is over and it is best laid to rest in the privacy of my and my respected ex-husband's heart. We spent almost 11 years in total together.
I will say one thing, however. Had I of known then what I know now things may have turned out VERY differently. I would like to think things would have turned out for the BETTER, but no one can ever be sure and who can truly say what 'better' is.
Regardless of what may or may not have been my life changed drastically and went in directions I never thought I would go! But here I am and here I will be.
Where to begin...? I guess a good starting point would be when everything I knew and wanted and worked for and had hoped for all blew up in my perfectly tanned face.
It was June of 2008. Approaching my third year of being happily married. Or so everyone thought.
The downfall came on our second evening in Niagara Falls. My husband and I had had an excellent day. We saw the falls, walked underneath them, rode on the "Maid of the Mist". It was fabulous. Had dinner at a wonderful restaurant that overlooked the falls and enjoyed some cocktails after dinner. Wait... let me rephrase that last part: TRIED to enjoy some cocktails after dinner. All it took was one final, repeated, horrible argument to set the ball rolling. The next morning we packed our bags and headed home ending our vacation much too short.
From there on it was a long ride home and an even longer process of crying, talking and hurting before months later the final decision would be made and my marriage was officially on it's way out of the beautiful home we had made into our own for the past 2 years. Out of respect for myself, my ex-husband and the bond we once shared, as much as you would all love the juicy details, the past is over and it is best laid to rest in the privacy of my and my respected ex-husband's heart. We spent almost 11 years in total together.
I will say one thing, however. Had I of known then what I know now things may have turned out VERY differently. I would like to think things would have turned out for the BETTER, but no one can ever be sure and who can truly say what 'better' is.
Regardless of what may or may not have been my life changed drastically and went in directions I never thought I would go! But here I am and here I will be.
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