Online dating adventures

The online dating world is a difficult place.  It's a funny place.  Men on display.  I haven't had a lot of dating success out there, but I've had some experiences that can only be described as surreal.  And I must say I have a friend who met a wonderful man on an online dating site and they are happily married today.   

 

Women, if you know any men friends that are on online dating, offer to help them with their profile pictures.  There's an online dating joke that you find out when you're out there that men apparently most of the time, take a picture of themselves with their phone in their own mirror...most of the time in the bathroom.  And yes, many times you can see ambiance items like the toilet or other bathroom accents in the background and I also will tell you that I have seen pictures taken in what I assume is their bedroom complete with the unmade bed with dirty clothes strewn about. 

 

Pictures are routinely taken from many feet away so hair color is about the only feature you can pick out at that distance or are so dark that you can't actually tell if a person is in the picture or not.  Men also routinely like to take pictures of their dogs, boats, cars, motorcycles or other things that they own.  I would not pick out anyone based on their boat for instance, but I surely can't speak for all women.  I'm sure there are women that are...uh, boat enthusiasts. 

 

And keep in mind, these are the best they've got.  These men are putting pictures that I would throw away as their profile picture, the first thing you see if they contact you in any way.  If I am thinking...what the hell is that a picture OF, you have not made a good impression.  My thought is...with all this technology, they guy cannot even take a picture OR...he is embarrassed to ask someone to take a picture of him for his profile.  Then there's other extreme where the guy that has the maximum number of pictures of himself or has many shirtless pictures.  That gets into the "ew" factor for me; it's just a little too much information for being strangers.  My favorite is the no-picture guy.  Now that is slightly presumptuous!  I am going to answer your email, when you are too embarrassed to put a picture on??  Because I'll just take you on your word that you are attractive.  And if I have my picture out there and I have stepped out from behind the curtain to give you a glimmer inside my life, you better too, Mr. Wonderful.  Otherwise you have no chance.  None.  Nada.       

In the interest of helping men friends that you know that are out there trying to find someone...in general, they need your help.  Don't offer, TELL them that you are taking a great picture of them and sending it to them and help him put it on his profile.  Trust me, it will likely be better than a picture they have. 

 

If I get past the pictures, and by that I mean that I find pictures of someone I find attractive, then comes the profile.  OY.  It is a tough part of the process  because you know that there are some people that are just pretending to be someone else.  I tried one site that there were young men that were trying to write a profile that they obviously thought would catch some lonely cougar, but the profile read like two teenage boys that were making things up as they went, I could just hear them saying---"oh, that's a good answer".  Then the picture they put up looked like a magazine model, then another that wasn't for sure the same guy sailing on some big sailboat.  "He" emailed me once and when I called their bluff, they had an equally lame answer where they tried to sound older.  And just a note to any kids that try and do that...if you are 46 like you say and you've never had a relationship longer than one year, yeah, we're not dumb out here.

 

I can't complain.  I did meet a man I consider a very good friend through online dating, but it is the law of numbers and there are adventures to be had.  This age is so different than at any other time.  Things are not at all the same as they were and identities can be skewed in the online world.  And I'm not 20-something or 30-something so I already have my life and my family.  I've raised kids and I'm done with that now, they're on their own.  That is such a different perspective.  Good luck out there you single 40 and 50-somethings!      

 

New improved me.

I'm on my blog again.  I know the idea of a blog is not to post every several months, but I ran smack into a massive writers block I think fueled by losing my Mom this year.  Until recently I haven't had the desire to write for several months.  Life seems like it's been moving in hyper-speed for an entire year and the sadness that I felt seemed to be in slow motion, experiencing one activity after another where I missed her so badly. 

I've also felt like I myself am transitioning, reinventing myself again.  I am discovering my own ideology, and once discovered I feel like the realization finally allows me to feel absolutely comfortable in my own skin.  It all makes sense and seems so logical and I feel like one after another of "AHA" moments that teach me that I am an ever evolving being.  I don't have to be anyone's idea of who I am, I just need to evolve as I have been and then it's someone else's job to accept me or not, and if they don't...so what!?  

I discovered during the elections, that I am a passionate progressive.  I don't care if anyone thinks that's OK, LOL.  I am like my mother before me in that respect; we used to talk endlessly about politics.  She truly loved President Obama.  She had the same pride in our country that I did when they elected a black man as president.  What a long way our country had come in her lifetime, from the days of segregation to a black man as president.  Even coming from a small town, she wanted me to experience the city life and people of other colors and the opportunities that you wouldn't have in a small town.  

This year, I saw my interest become passion.  I felt the times that my Mom was fighting for women's rights, telling me that I needed to have an education and be able to make my own way.  Whatever you do, she would say, have security by yourself, don't rely on a man to give it to you.  When the issues that my Mom was fighting for started to re-appear in today's conversations, I felt like I had only one direction to go.  Forward.  I could not let the things that my Mom fought for in her day not be available for my daughters.  When someone is wanting to make decisions on my behalf around the country and the world, you better have impressed the hell out of me.  And I don't mean with your schmooze, I mean with your brain, and you sure as hell better have a plan.  I have lived.  I've had to go to a food shelf.  I've done community service to get free food when my kids were young.  I've had kids, I've run a household, I've been through a divorce, I've owned and taken care of my house, I've remarried, I've had a combined family, I've lost a husband, I've lost a mother, I've picked myself up over and over again.  I've got something to say and whether you agree or not, I'm going to say it and I will not apologize for it.  I respect that others have different views, but I don't ever want to hold my tongue for something that I feel passionate about again. 

In this tough first year after my Mom passed, I am constantly amazed by seeing the things that she taught me play out in my own life.  She was very intuitive as am I and I'm learning to go with that intuition, listen to it.  It's telling me something and it so rarely steers me wrong.  Be comfortable in my own skin. 

So this is me...this has been me all along, it just took circumstances to open the pathway.  If things would not have happened as they did, I wouldn't have seen the path. 

I'm going to blog more.  I am awakening my inner voice to talk and I will move toward my creative side.  My Mom said I had to.  :-)       





        

My Mom

My Mom was such a funny woman.  She left me with so many memories we will never run out of stories, and I hope I can write each one.  I just have all of these funny memories running through my head and I simply have to share. 

My Mom was what we called a Nightime Snacker.  Moments after dinner she would start...the snacking time.  It starts now and goes until she's too tired to eat any more.  The variety of snacks varied widely but she would find her latest obsession--I remember the different ones I can think of off the top of my head...peanuts, apples, grapefruit, gummy bears, popcorn, ice cream, fudgcicles, licorice etc etc etc.  She would develop the obsession and then she would get the largest container you've ever seen in your life of the obsession.  She was buying peanuts in bulk at one time!  I had to take her to Sam's club when she was here so she could get the GIGANTIC tub of peanuts. 

My Mom was terrified of insects.  Spiders were the worst, but pretty much any and all bugs in nature were bad.  And she had the most amount of run-ins with bugs that made you wonder if the bug world knew she hated every last one of them and they conspired to torture her throughout her life.  The worst "bug episode" I ever witnessed was the famous (at least in our family because all who were present will never forget it) June bug incident.  We were living in a 4-plex in south Minneapolis.  We were having what the parents called a "family meeting".  My brother and I had a different name, but I'll just leave that to your imagination.  Serious family issues like cleaning and schedules and duties were discussed.  (Yawn)  We were sitting there discussing and Mom had a blouse with a sweater over it.  She kept pulling at her sweater on the side as we talked.  It kept irritating her.  I asked what was wrong.  She said the blouse was picking her, couldn't figure out why.  She finally reached up between the sweater and blouse.  That's when the screaming started.  She pulled at her sweater like it was on fire.  A June bug came out from under her arm.  That was what was picking her.  She was jumping around screaming, trying to get the sweater off, it's stuck on her arms and she's looks like a crazy person.  She gets one side off and is trying to unbutton the blouse, throwing the sweater in the air screaming "Get it OFF me!!!!"  Dad came over and told her it was gone, put her blouse back around her took her over and sat her down while she still a bit hysterically pointing to the spot where the June bug was under her arm and half talking half crying words she couldn't quite complete, reliving the whole experience.  Bugs 1, Mom, 0.

My Mom always said exactly what she meant.  If I asked her if an outfit looked good, if she liked it, then she said so and comment on how the color brought out your eyes, the style is so you...on and on.  And she would mean every word.  But if she didn't think it looked good, she would tell you it didn't look good, and then go into detail of why it doesn't look good--hips look wide, legs look stuffed into it, makes you look big.  But I never doubted that she was sincere or truthful.  In fact, she used to tell me about her mother, my Grandma Watters and how she would just say what she thought no matter who was there and Mom used to laugh because people would nearly choke on their drink because it was so direct and frank.  My Grandma was the most wonderful little old Grandma; she called everybody HoneyDarling.  So that abrupt truth in your face was so unexpected.  It was the aloof French in her, she said.  But as much as my Mom was instructed how Irish she was, she couldn't escape that the French personality traits that came through her blood.  She never saw how similar she was to her Mom.

I hope you all enjoy this little Mom storytelling session.  There may be more of these stories--I think it was very therapeutic to tell these stories to you out there.  I appreciate everybody who reads this and I hope it makes you smile.      

 

 

Rollercoaster

I haven't added to my blog in a few months.  The last time I posted it was Valentine's Day, just a week or so before the storm.  By the storm I do not mean a storm outside, but a storm that hit my life.  As I sit here, I almost can't believe the things that have happened since then.  No wonder I have lost my sense of time.

About a week or so after my last post, my Mom came for a visit.  She had appointments at Mayo (or Mayos as all the Yoopers--Yoopers being those from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, where my home town is at) to have a precancerous condition in her breast looked at one more time and she was planning on having a double mastectomy to prevent the cancer that had hit her sister years before. 

She had been having headaches...terrible headaches like the migraines she always used to have in years past but hadn't had in some years.  Her doctor at Mayo suggested she have a head CT scan just as a precautionary step before they would do surgery.  I remember the text because of the panic that it created.  The head CT had been done, they called her right back and said that they found some "abnormalities".  She's running across Mayo to go back to the doctor, I'm at my desk at work and I'm looking at my phone like it's going to give me some enlightenment as to what this all means.  It was over the lunch hour, people were not around, I was trying to calm the intense panic I felt in my chest.  I'm doing the Oh My God chant, like that also will somehow stop the anxiety.  

She calls, they're not calling them abnormalities any more, they're calling them tumors and they definitely see three of them.  My head is spinning, I can only remember too well the cancer diagnosis when Tim and I were sitting in front of the doctors hearing that terrible word.  It was coming up on just two years since Tim died.  We went back together the next day, they were doing the familiar hunt for the primary cancer and they found it.  Lung cancer.  That's where it started and spread to the brain.  Good Lord, she had lung and brain cancer!!!  The prognosis was not good, but could range anywhere from 3 months to a year and if you made it to a year, you would probably have more time. 

Somewhere deep within my mind I did not want to hear what my intuition said but I knew it would not be long.  It sure as hell wasn't what I wanted, but ironically, it was the gift of intuition that Mom gave me and taught me to recognize as just one of those things that the women in this family have...trust it.  

I can't put the details of that part of story down quite yet, but Mom did not have a long time as I thought.  She stayed here at my house, which was it's own painful but also wonderful journey.  She passed away on May 7th, just two days before the 2 year anniversary of Tim's death.  Those two souls were connected in a way that I will probably never understand, but on Mother's Day 2 years ago, I lost Tim and on Mother's Day this year, we had my Mom's funeral.  I hope they're having a good time, but really you two...did you have to mess up Mother's Day for me like that???

I have gone through many emotions already with this deep, deep blow.  But I'm pretty pissed overall.  I know all that bullshit about not getting more than you can handle and oh, I'm so strong.  Where do I get off this strong train...I want off!  I don't want to be the one that tests how much grief I can handle without losing it entirely.  Whoever is listening--God, the Universe, Higher Power, whatever it calls itself...stop it.  I know I have built a new family of people around me that are good and loving and wonderful and I do have happiness in my life, but I am getting off the roller coaster now.  I'm done.  I'm going to look to those who know me, love me and make me happy.  But I'm still pissed.        

Valentine's Day

So . . . it's Valentine's Day.  St. Valentine, the patron saint of Hallmark-land.  I have seen commercials abounding reminding everyone that if they have someone important to them they must buy them something.  Something either red or sparkling apparently.  Yes, I admit there is an element of surliness or sarcasm related to Valentine's Day for me.  When my late husband was still with me, we never really made a big deal about Valentine's day, but I think the sentiment that went along with the so-called holiday was there and we felt good about making up our own celebration at home.  

The thing that caused me to be the queen of sarcasm today was the over-commercialization of it.  All day I got emails declaring the day, I think even the place I get my pet food had a Valentine's Day message!  Do I now need to get my dog a special Valentine's Day gift???  If I don't bring her something is she going to stomp away and not pay attention to me for the evening?  I thought I saw the signs of her extra droopy sad face when I came home, but I didn't think she was so sensitive.  My cat is giving me dirty looks, but that's not out of the ordinary, I don't think it's related to the day. 

As I was driving home, I was feeling a little sorry for myself, I'll admit.  It seems like everybody else has a special person to spend this time with tonight.  I know this is not true, but I did say I was feeling sorry for myself!  I told Tim how much I missed him and apologized for pouting.  I wanted to slap myself for being so ridiculous, so I turned my radio on to listen to music.  All my choices were either love songs or just plain bad music.  I swore at my radio, telling it to stop taunting me!! I have satellite radio and I turned it to a comedy station.  I listened to this comedian, and I don't know his name to give him credit.  It was a clip from the end of a comedy performance and he was trying to get a picture of an eagle for his kids.  This is ironic  because the eagle has always been symbolic to our whole family of Tim.  A large cloud came over and he thought that the eagle would go way, not wanting to brave the cold winds coming with the weather brought by the clouds.  But as he watched the gliding eagle positioned itself to go into the winds and they blew hard, but caused the eagle to glide even higher.  He said the message was clear, take the winds that blow against you and use them to lift you higher.  He then strummed his guitar and said, "this is what the eagle said to me" and as he played guitar he made loud screeching noises like an eagle.  I laughed out loud and thanked Tim for his message.  Take whatever feelings of adversity that I feel now and use it to make me stronger.  I'm a little stronger now just thinking of the message.  

       

Surgery

In week 2 of the new year, I've had another banner experience.  Surgery.  I had a hysterectomy.  Now, as not to scare off any men that may be readers, I will not go into any detail of the great women's moon cycle (as I like to call it) or anything of the like.  Simply put, I have no further use for my uterus, and it insisted on causing me pain.  All of the womankind around me raised their glasses to the farewell to the uterus and we thanked it for its service in carrying my children, but when a body part turns against you, I bid it farewell. 

In health care land, surgery is so very routine.  It does seem that it would be helpful to have a graphic on the wall showing the answers to all the questions they may ask.  Then maybe they would only ask them once.  I answered the same questions no less than 5 times, every time the next contestant would enter.  It could even be done in game show format.  And the answer IS????  Now I know it's a precaution to have my name and birth date repeated a ridiculous number of times, but I'm really thinking that if there were a medical mistake, it's not that the patient that got their name or birth date wrong it's a health care worker that got it wrong so my repeating it over and over again seems somewhat unnecessary and entirely redundant.  It's on my wrist and it's the same name and birth date as when I got here.  

And then there was the bonus Marla the klutz injury that had to be explained (many times).  A few days before surgery I was going through my usual routine getting ready for work.  The problem I have is that in the morning, I am one big hot flash.  As soon as I realize I'm awake and have covers on I'm overheated and the covers go flying off.  Then I step into the shower, which I can make too hot because I'll even have a hot flash IN the shower.  So after my shower I put on a light robe so as not to make me overheat yet again.  Obviously getting too hot is going against the whole plan here, I am getting ready and applying make-up and fixing my hair.  To get sweaty now would ruin the entire thing!  Make-up was fine, now hair--I need to use a blow dryer on my hair, but I'm very hot.  If I don't take the robe off while I blow dry, I just may combust.  I've never actually tested that theory, but I am an explosion waiting to happen . . . on the inside.  The robe is off, I'm drying, this task is completed without incident.  Then, I am going to complete my hairstyle for the day with (don don don-this is somewhat scary music) the CURLING IRON.  I used it on a few wisps of hair and grabbed a piece of hair of somewhat uneven lengths and put it in the curling iron and turned.  Oops, I didn't get the ends in there and it will look all bent at the ends if I don't do it right.  I press the handle to release it slightly and I pressed it too hard, all the hair came out of the curling iron and the top heavy curling iron slid down my hair and I lost hold of the handle.  The curling iron fell down in front of my unrobed body and just touched one thing on it's way down . . . my stomach.  This isn't the little burn I have gotten on my neck or ear from a curling iron over the years.  This is an 3-4 inch image of the entire side of the curling iron burned into my skin. 

So in prepping for surgery, every nurse and doctor had to see it so when they were all in surgery and uncovered my midsection, nobody would gasp and ask what in the hell I had done to my stomach.  I started by telling them about my smooth move and ultimate injury because I didn't want anybody asking me if I felt safe in my home or if someone was abusing me.  Yes, the only danger in my home is me apparently.

I had to stay overnight in the hospital and was able to go home the next day.  I thought my walk after surgery was a little bit on the early side.  I know they want you to stand up and walk after surgery, but when I'm barely out of anesthesia and so dizzy the room is spinning I just would think that would be the indication to wait for a bit.  But I didn't fall or anything and met their requirement of at least walking to the door of my room, that box was checked.  

The next few days were a blur of narcotic pain meds and trying to get up and around and figure out what I could handle for activity.  By Sunday (post-op day 6) I felt good.  I wanted to get into exercising and work on that new years resolution--let's get to it!!  What I didn't think about was that I was on narcotics as I was thinking these thoughts, so whatever pain I may have had was taken care of by the meds.  Monday morning . . . one week after surgery.  I wasn't going to take any pain meds today, I was going to conquer the pain because I am ready to be done recuperating!!!  This had gone on long enough, I was done with everybody needing to help me.  I have a great roommate who has been really waiting on me as much as I needed.  I told her my great plans, however I was leaning forward a bit because my abdomen was hurting a little.  Mind over matter, I was going to conquer this!  She started to talk about only one week, there will be time for all that--first recover; to be followed by another friend that stopped and talked more reality, do I want to have to start over and recover twice.  All along these talks, my eyes are tearing uncontrollably, I'm crying, over what I'm not sure.  This is what happens after any surgery, I crash, like crashing into a wall and sliding down.  When I realized that these people were actually right (probably why I was crying, I hate to be wrong) and that I need to heal like everybody else that has this surgery, I momentarily stopped crying.  By this time, my pain had soared and I asked them to pass me the pain meds and I took one.  Thank God for pain meds!

Now I am just on non-narcotic pain control and since Monday, I've gotten stronger and better each day.  I went to the doctor and everything is healing nicely, even the curling iron burn.          

New Year

There have been many happenings in my world around the New Year. 

Right before the New Year, I was in a car accident.  Just me against the elements was the cause.  I came around a curve on a road I travel nearly every day and found black ice.  I tried to turn into the slide like I was taught, turn against the slide, brake, no brake...but to no avail.  I went one direction then the other and then did a 180 and was on the other side of the road facing the wrong way but still moving, nothing seemed to slow the car.  Then things went from bad to worse when I hit the shoulder.  Suddenly hitting gravel made the momentum push my car over the edge where there was a hill.  My car tipped and rolled down the hill all in one continuous movement.  I rolled 1 and a quarter turns and ended up laying on the passenger side.  I realized I was stationary and tried to grasp what had happened.  In somewhat of a daze, I tried to figure out what I needed to do next as I was hanging sideways from the seat belt.  I didn't feel hurt so I then thought I needed to find my cell phone to call the police and needed to figure out how to get out of my car.  Things were strewn about the car, coffee was everywhere from my first cup of coffee of the day being thrown around the car.  Note to self, get a better sealing coffee mug, I could have really used a gulp of coffee about then.  

I braced myself and unhooked the seat belt so I wouldn't fall into broken glass.  I couldn't find my phone so I started to figure out a way out of the car.  Passenger door was against the ground, drivers door was too hard to open straight up.  Then a woman appeared and looked in the front windshield, she asked if I was OK.  I said I was, but I can't get out.  She asked me if I could open the sun roof, I tried but it wouldn't budge.  The glass was gone but the inside fabric door was stuck, no doubt the top of the car rolling over the ground compromised the entire roof.  She went to the back and was able to pry the hatchback door open.  At last, the outside was visible.  I crawled through the car and got back out into the open.  I'm ashamed to say I don't know that woman's name, but she helped me out stayed with me until someone else came and let me stay warm in her car.  I was so shaken up--I know I thanked her profusely but I don't think I ever asked her what her name was. 

I found my cell phone in the back of the car and called my house trying to wake them out of sleep to come over to where I was to wait for the police to come.  When my good Samaritan called for help, turns out there was another car just around the curve that had gone off the road too.  They thought that was us and didn't know I was off the road just around the curve.  Finally I got a hold of my daughter and she rushed out in her pajamas to get me.  The sheriff deputy got there and came up to talk to me, apologizing for not knowing I was there.  Hmmmm, very cute sheriff deputy and also had a sense of humor.  I thanked the universe for bestowing such a funny attractive man with pretty green eyes to take my accident report.  I'm sure I'm probably getting a collective eye-roll from the readers, but hey it is who I am.  (laugh)  I was also happy I wore a nice outfit to my interrupted trek to work.  Yes, I know, but vanity runs deep people!!!  

I was in the truck with my daughter, cute sheriff had driven away, we sat there waiting for the tow truck to come.  I am sitting trying to settle down and think and someone walks up to my window and says something, I jump out of my skin--did not see them approach.  I was pleased it was cute sheriff back again.  He was bringing me the paperwork to file the report.  He laughed at me when I jumped and he said "I hate it when that happens!  You can imagine how embarrassing that is when it happens to me." and then points to his police insignia on his uniform.  Then, as far as I remember, I did the hair flip and laughed...it's like breathing to me, I can't help it.  Trauma over, my flirt was back on.  Sore neck and back, but I will be OK.  

Now, because of my great friends helping me out, I have a new car.  It is Red Hot Metallic.  It appeals to me in so many ways.  It's another Pontiac Vibe, so it's practical and efficient so it speaks to my miser side yet a racy RED color so I get to be a little wild on the outside.  This is just one of my new year adventures and it's only about a week into January.  More to come . . . stay reading, my friends!!!