Panic attack and heartburn...

6 months, 14 days

It has been exactly 6 months and two weeks since Joe and I broke up. Why do I know that?!!? I wish I didn't. I wish it was not something I think about every. Single. Day. I still get that twinge of a memory now and then - the gut wrenching, awful, cringe-worthy moment when I miss him. Movies, songs, TV shows, jokes...they all can trigger a memory of our relationship.
At last I can honestly say I have moved on. I can accept the fact he wanted out. I can deal with the fact we are no longer in each other's lives. And I am okay with these facts. I was a happy girl before Joey and I am/will be a happy girl without Joey. Hearts mend, thank God - and I will meet Mr. Right when I am supposed to. Tomorrow I will go to the gym and listen to The Clash and smile.

Family Sundays - Hair Care and Sunshine

I have been spending Sundays at Mom and Dad's for years. We often walk the 3.7 mile Fairmont Loop together, chatting about the local neighbors and other such fodder. Today we decided to do a more aerobic walk, walking the hilly neighborhood surrounding my parent's home. It was georgous out today, bright blue skies, brisk 60 degree weather. My father trudged a good 50 feet in front of my mother and I, scoffing at our turtle's pace.
We worked up a nice family sweat, finishing our walk with a trip to the local grocery store. Here we stood out like a sore thumb. Mostly filled with women in their Sunday's Finest, we were sweaty, beet red and loud. My dad called me over to the "British Food Aisle" to laugh at a can of "spotted dick pudding" (I have to agree, it's pretty funny, Dad).
We always make a nice Sunday dinner (tonight it's steak and veggie sausage on the BBQ, fingerling potatoes and spinach) and watch 60 Minutes together. We also watch This Week, although my mom is saddened by George Stephenopolis' recent departure. As I type this, my parents' eyes are glued to the TV. The Pennsylvania Governor and Arnold are on today, discussing something about economy - and the Olympics? The only comment my parents' have made since the beginning of the program?
Dad: "Arnold colors his hair".
Mom: "Of course he does".

Valentine's Shmalentines

Happy Valentine's Day. Blech.

So, everyone knows today is a "Hallmark Holiday", invented by the card and candy industry to make a buck. Here's my question: why invent a holiday to celebrate something as arbitrary, as elusive as LOVE?

I mean, not everyone has a significant other. Not all of us want one, either. Yet, here comes February 14th and inevitably us singletons are left feeling, well, mediocre. No one greeted me with smiles and kisses this morning, no one offered to take me to dinner, and to my horror, my PARENTS sent me flowers. A sweetly intended gesture that made me nauseous. Yes, I am alone. I am nobody's sweetheart. 364 days a year I can swallow this fact. It's just this one day it seems a little rancid.

I am nobody's sweetheart, but I am Dan's Valentine. My dear, sweet, Dan asked me - via text message - to be his Valentine. A very generous offer. Especially since he lives in Georgia. I am thankful to have friends like Dan. The kind of close friendships that span decades and pick up right where they left off.

Tomorrow is a new day and I can wake up feeling empowered about my single status again. Tonight I think I will pop a few Tylenol PMs and dream of Mr. Right.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

It's raining today. I normally like the rain but today it's wearing on me. Can't deny it fits my mood, however. I'm in a worrying mood. A brooding mood. A pouting mood.

My day started out early with a doctor's appointment. Figured I might as well get the whole gamut of tests, as I haven't been to the doctor in years. Literally, years. I can't help but admit I am scared. I'm scared so many of my peers are getting seriously ill. I'm scared I don't take strict precaution in my love life. I'm scared of bad news.

Also weighing heavy on my heart is the idea of leaving Oregon. I have been in serious talks with a recruiter in Denver. While the idea of making a reliable income again is so tempting, I have my reservations. Of course I love my friends and family in Oregon. But, on the other hand, I never left. I feel it may be time to do so. It scares me to death - the thought of being on my own - starting completely anew. But also, it sounds refreshing. A new start, a new job, a new group of men, and friends. This could either turn out wonderfully or awfully.

I know I am complaining today...I just feel like I am so close to something happening. And I am so READY for something, anything to happen.

Age Ain't Nothin' But a Numba...

After I hung up the phone with Timmy this morning I kept thinking about one comment he had made: "Do you realize how important the next 5 years are? I mean, we will probably have spouses and kids by then".

Oh. My. God. Talk about pressure. I can't imagine being married. Let alone a mother. I can't even take care of myself. I forget to put my clothes in the dryer. I wear my socks two days in a row. I don't even know how to do my taxes.

Why is it expected for women of my age to have it all figured out? Why is it not socially acceptable for a girl to be single (and happy) at 27?

When I was a little girl I definately thought I would be married and happy by 27. I mean, 27 is old, right? I'm just not sure HOW I got old so quickly.

Restless

Today's realizations:

First off, Dots do NOT make a good breakfast. Although, deceiving because of their wonderful taste, Dots don't provide much sustenance besides sugar. And sugar makes me happy. And crazy. SUGAR MAKES ME WANT TO YELL.

Mike "The Situation" has tainted Sarah's vocabulary forever. It is now impossible to for me to rant on and on about stupid men without her interrupting in laughter. "I'm sorry but whenever you say 'the situation' I can't help but think of Jersey Shore". Excuse me, what? When we are discussing my love life (or pathetic lack there of) I would appreciate it if modern day pop culture references could be checked at the door. Speaking of love lives...

It is not appropriate - no matter how long it has been since you've seen someone - to ask, "When was the last time you got laid?". A classy lady never kisses and tells. Honestly, Wris.

A Fresh Start...

So, I am re-vamping the blog. I know, I know, it's practically brand new. Here's the thing - I was getting depressed reading my own entries. I need warmth, laughter and honesty in my life, not just men. I mean, obviously, I don't need a man. So why dedicate an entire blog to dating (or not dating)? I am sure this reworked version will contain more than a few dating horror stories and inappropriate indiscretions. Don't you worry. My cynicism isn't gone. Just redirected. Names will not be changed - except when they really, really need to be.

Today, while wallowing in my "grumpy mood", Sarah suggested thinking of happy thoughts. Such an easy thing to say when your friend is down in the dumps. But really, not a bad idea. The first things that came to my mind were my new "magic shoes" and limbo sticks. Let's face it. Few things make a girl feel better than new shoes. Black, converse hi-tops. Such a simple indulgence but they make me feel like dancing and nothing feels better than a spin around the living room. And can anyone be grumpy when thinking of the limbo?

** Okay, scratch that. The limbo sucks. In an attempt to make this entry a little snazzy, I just google image searched the limbo stick. Turns out it's Hawaiian.

My fear of all things Polynesian stems from my ex. Joe hailed from the island of Maui and therefore I now find myself having a distinct aversion to the place. In fact, I was actively rooting against Miss Hawaii in Saturday's Miss America Pageant. Poor thing didn't stand a chance with all the booing and hissing I directed at the TV.

I came to two realizations today...

ONE: I can't stand oatmeal. It might be good for you but it's not good. Not good at all. I have an absolute TON of it so I decided to make some for breakfast. I made lots of it. Why not? This magic, heart-friendly food can be a good lunch for later too, right? Ummm, no way. I can't even bring myself to clean out the pot.

TWO: I miss working. A lot. Today, Pat messaged me "Boo Monday". And yes, of course, I replied that Mondays suck. But you know what? Everyday is Sunday for me right now and it's boring. I can stay up as late as I want to any night. I can sleep in everyday. I can sit around in my underwear at 3pm and not think twice about it (yes, I do this. A lot). I am going to write an "unemployed schedule" tomorrow.

Time for the Bachelor. Woot.

Cheers,

Fal