Abandonment Issues

I’m sure that this here blog is thinking I don’t love it anymore. That it’s no longer the cute, fluffy blog it was when I first got it and the new has worn off.

However, I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth.  I have written dozens of little notes of ideas about what to write. Things that make me happy. Things that stress me out. Random thoughts. Dozens I tell you. But I can’t seem to make it all come together.

Do I write about how I have self diagnosed Social Anxiety Disorder? I mean, sure, I tend to turn down or flake out on more plans then average. Sure, I’m paranoid that no one likes me, but even more freaked out if it seems like they do like me. But really, who wants to get inside that messed up of a mind?

Do I write about my job? My job that I truly love and cherish, particularly in these trying times? Who wants to hear about a business that is well run, that has a contingency plan, that is turning down business that isn’t “worth it’s time?” That kind of talk gets no attention these days. It’s almost a fairytale.

Do I write about my new car? I love it. It’s a 2007 Nissan Versa  hatchback. I’ve named it Earl. (it’s grey, get it, Earl Grey?!?!)  It reminds me of a baby elephant. It has all sorts of fun bells and whistles, including a sunroof. Sunroofs are cool.

How about boys? Let’s see what I have to say about them these days. Love them. The fuzzier the better. Silly? Sign me up. Possibility of stunted maturity…WOO HOO! Completely uninterested in me….YES! So, basically same ‘ol same ‘ol in the world of boys.

Politics? Always a good subject. Obama’s in. Life is good. I’m proud of our president and have to punch myself every once in awhile when I hear “President Obama.”

Fear? My fears are random and somewhat debilitating. I fear I will never find true love. I fear that I am too OK with being alone. I fear that my parents will die suddenly and I won’t know how to go on. I fear that my hair never looks good. I fear being depressed, again. I fear that my outfits are too “matchy-matchy.” I fear I will never be a parent. I fear that if I were to become a parent, I wouldn’t be a good one. I fear that my cats feel neglected. I fear that I love my dog WAY too much.

My dog…that’s a good one. I love him. Possibly too much (see above) but he is a companion to me in ways I have never known. He got to go to California with me at Christmas and was a camp on the plane. We took him to the beach and that little furry face smelling all the wondrous smells of the ocean was one of the most joyous things I have ever witnessed.

Wii fit? Love it. Haven’t been on it for a week (thanks virus!) but it makes me actually enjoy exercising. I can actually tell that I’m becoming more flexible, etc…..Bravo Nintendo!

I could probably go on and on. Typing lots, saying little. Basically I just want my blog to know that I still love it. Hopefully, one day soon, I can sit down and write a thorough, possibly interesting and informative post.  But not today dear blog, mommy’s got a headache.

Advertisements

Chemistry.com: The Truth

This is not some expose on a online dating site. This is, rather, a more truthful response to the extensive profile I filled out on the aforementioned dating site earlier today.

Who I am and who I am looking for:

I am borderline neurotic. I have a vivid imagination and a tendency to over-share. I can tend to be clingy, but need my space. I feel alone in crowds. I love my dog too much. Sometimes I forget to brush my teeth. I never put away my clean laundry. I like the idea of eating healthy, but eat crap out of convenience. I have pretty blue eyes, and I know it. There is no way for me to have cleavage. I fall down a lot. I laugh way too loud. Sometimes I hold in my sneezes in some weak attempt at femininity.  I enjoy museums and such, but spend large amounts of time watching random reality shows.  I sometimes think people are looking at me in admiration, but in my heart know it’s not true. I relate very well to gay men. Gay men love me. Straight men are much less interested. I sometimes have a horrible time holding up my end of a conversation. I try to be a people pleaser to the point that I either come across as super boring or eventually freak out and spill all the dissenting opinions I’ve been holding in. I was once a registered Republican, but currently am terrified by Republicans in general. I believe in God and think Jesus was probably a cool dude, but, in general, Christians scare the hell out of me. I don’t care what anyone does as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. Stealing is bad. I drive too fast. I sleep too much. Sometimes I take 3 showers a day. Sometimes I don’t shower for 3 days. I have 2 cats, and am ashamed of that sometimes.  I’ve kissed a girl. I can’t understand why people like me but am crushed if they don’t. I have a philanthropic heart, but a lazy ass. I love gossip. I may want to have children, but probably for all the wrong reasons.  I’m loyal to a fault. I’m nosy. I’m mostly a mess, the wants to be loved.

I am looking for a man. I like dark hair and beards. I want someone who listens to the minutia of my day and can tell which of my two friends named Erin I am talking about without clarification. I like boys who drive trucks. I like smart boys, who aren’t too smart to act stupid.  I want a boy who is more attractive then me, but doesn’t know it. I want a boy who will hold my hand. I want a boy with a healthy sexual appetite. I want a boy who understands the ridiculous nature of porn, but isn’t too “high brow” to enjoy it. I want a boy who cooks, or at least will eat my cooking. I want a boy who loves Nashville, but wants to travel. I want a boy who can hold his liquor….but doesn’t hold on to it too tight or all the time.I want a boy who will get pleasure out of seeing how excited I get at a Reckless Kelly show. I want a boy who thinks it’s great when I want to hang with “my girls” or even better, when I want to hang with “my boys.” I want a boy who knows more about me then anyone else, but still wants to know more.

I’m pretty sure that even if I had forked up the $50 to get an actual subscription to this dating site, had I filled out the form honestly, it would have been $50 down the drain. I’m all for online dating for others, but it just ain’t my thing. I lack the self confidence to open myself up like that and would much rather spend that $50 on shoes.

So there.

Better Living Through Chemistry

So, I’ve been on anti-depressants for about a year and a half now. Seriously! I know it’s shocking for as well adjusted person as I to be taking such measures to be able to function, but it is true. The chemicals in my brain can simply not be trusted to regulate themselves and, this is truly shocking, vast amounts of vodka didn’t really help either. I like to think that this was a great decision on my part and that I am much better at life in general since bringing Celexa into my life. Hopefully those who knew me before and stuck around through some ugly times to see me after would agree.

My prescription ran out a few days ago. Well, let me clarify, the bottle I had ran out the same day my mom came in town for a visit and I got sidetracked and didn’t get a refill ASAP. This, I have come to understand, was a REALLY bad idea. I had been having relentless, exhausting dreams for the last few nights and this morning I woke up with that feeling that I had almost forgotten, that feeling that getting out of bed was going to be a big chore today. At first, I figured it had to do with my mom going home today. That always makes me sad and knowing that it would be over 6 months before I would see her again, definitely is rough. But this had a different feeling, a feeling that was more familiar then I wanted it to be.

I instantly called my prescription in, but the day started to get away from me and it was time to take my mom to the airport before I had a chance to get to Walgreens. As we were sitting at Cracker Barrel ordering food, my mind started racing and I couldn’t keep a thought in my head or form a complete sentence and it turned into a struggle to keep my shit together before dropping my mom off at the airport. She hates leaving under any circumstances, but if the flood of tears I felt pushing on my eyes broke through, there was no way I could have gotten her on the plane. I knew I just needed to get my pills and get home and chill.

If you have never had chemical imbalances or fun things like that, make sure to add that when you count your blessings. It SUCKS! You want to talk to people, but you know you would not make any sense. You want to be alone, but are scared to death to be lonely. It’s like your heart and you brain are duking it out and whichever one is messed up is winning. There is a part of me that is kinda glad this happened, I think I had gotten to comfortable. I needed a little reminder that life is a fragile thing and laziness is no excuse to not take of myself. Now, I’m going to go snuggle with my dog and watch random TV until my mind gets back in order…..

Single People Deserve to Die

A coworker of mine found out that their spouse (a salesperson) was scheduled to take a trip out of the country to an area that had been on the news lately because of outbursts of violence. Among the many reasons they came up with as to why this was a horrible idea (which I agree it was) was “It’s not like (they’re) a single person, they have a spouse.”

All of a sudden it became so clear. Since I have not married, my life is expendable. Phew, now I don’t feel nearly as bad for spending the weekend watching “Deadliest Catch” and eating dip. I probably will stop wearing my seat belt, start running with scissors and perhaps I should take up smoking or a nice heroin habit. Seeing as I am a 34 year old single person, it’s not like it would matter as much. I mean really, I’ve only got one ovary and fallopian tube left and at my ever advancing age, the likelihood of me procreating gets smaller every day.

Sure, I have pets, but they are just animals. I have family and such, but no one has chosen to be legally tied to me, therefore, I’m expendable.

I mean really people, how easy is it to be single?!?! I have one salary with which I pay for all my expenses. Luckily I have the opportunity to buy engagement, wedding, baby shower and other gifts for those people who have found someone who wants to have legal ties to them. It makes me understand that not only is my life not worth as much, but that all milestones in my life aren’t worth as much because Target doesn’t have a registry for “Single Girl’s New Place” or “Heather Needs a New Handbag” or “Dog and Cat Toys are Free.”  I don’t mean to imply that I begrudge my married and baby-making friends, but damn y’all, with a life as non-momentous as mine apparently has been, it hurts the ego.

I have the strength of one person to carry groceries up the stairs.  If a bug needs killing, it’s all me. If someone invites me to do something, pretty much no other person on the planet gives a shit if i do it or not. I mean, hell, I’m SUPER expendable since I don’t even have siblings. I’m like the SUPER SINGLE PERSON. I was born single, grew up single, hit mid-life (ish) single and at this point it’s looking like old age is going to be single for me too. It’s almost selfish of me to have a job. A job that could go to a married person with a family. But that’s how we single folks roll……

The single person really hardly even deserves a vacation, unless to go to a wedding, baby shower, funeral or other occassion. Once we hit our 30’s it gets hard to find a group of single folk (or open minded marrieds) who are apt to want to take the same vacation. Luckily for me, being an only child and all, I can take vacations with my parents….that isn’t pitiful at all!

I hate to sound like a whiner. I suppose I’m lucky that I haven’t been put in a home for spinsters by now. I’m fortunate that I’m allowed to walk the same streets and pay the same taxes as those who have legal ties to others. Maybe I’ll take the route of this lady at least I’d be married.

Single Girl’s Guide to Moving

I just moved into a new apartment. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, gated community, super close to my favorite grocery store. All good things. However, I still haven’t quite moved completely OUT of my old apartment. I have until midnight tonight to make that break-up final. To take all my stuff, including all my trash, and be done with the place. I suddenly feel like one of those girls who can’t get out of a relationship without being almost in another one.

Here’s the deal with my old place. I’d been there 7 years. For the most part everything was cool. But we were just moving in different places. I was moving to a place in my life that I didn’t want to be packed like a sardine into my home and it was moving into a place where black mold grows.

If you ever want to feel completely alone in the world, move by yourself. Make sure you’ve lived in your place for awhile, have animals who like to place things under furniture and have a tendency to keep stuff longer then you should. In order to get the full effect and complete alone experience, have lots of random things that can’t really be boxed up and make sure to live on at least the second floor and move to a new place that is also at least on the second floor. OOOO…having a small car helps too.

Once you get the keys to the new place, bring over fun things, like clothes and such. Carefully consider the order of the new closets and take lots of time to place things just so. Only put a little bit of stuff in your car at a time so you can drive back and forth as much as possible, while fooling yourself that you are accomplishing things. Go ahead, take a nap.

Make sure that whatever outfit you choose to move in makes you feel especially unattractive and then work up a good sweat. i also suggest being in dire need of a root touch up and a bang trim so you have more hair ornaments keeping things “in place” then a Eastern European gymnast.

Pack your boxes as heavy as possible. Once you’ve lost the packing tape for the fifteenth time, start putting heavy things in trash bags. Then sort of drag the trash bags a bit so they start to fall apart as you put them in the car. Make mental notes of the things you need at Target, and then quckly forget it. Make at LEAST 4 trips to Target and spend as much of your hard earned money as possible at each trip.

Once the movers come…..oh yes, you HAVE to hire movers,with no upper body strength and a 99 Saturn Coupe, there ain’t no way that big fluffy red chair will make it to the new place.  Once the movers come, make sure you remember that you have a bunch of stuff in two closets. Fool yourself into thinking that it’s not much stuff and will be like one trip. Start to realize that your attachment to things lessens when you start to think about taking it up the stairs at your new place and finding a new place to stash it for another 7 years. The movers will be super sweet….awww, poor girl ain’t gots no man to help her move….and will move your stuff faster then any group of friends could think of doing, and they don’t complain to your face.  During this portion of the move, you will feel good about things. Try to remember that feeling later when you are sitting in the shambles of your former home disgusted at the dust bunnies and unidentifiable stains that have been hidden by the furniture for lord knows how long. Recall it also when you wish your dog could be trusted to run down to Lowes and get a new vent for the dryer so you could at least finish drying the clothes that are in the dryer….sorry Wade the mover, glad you’re so strong!

Go grab some lunch on the way back to the old place. Make sure you’ve been eating fast food for the past few days so you can push your body physically while giving it the worst fuel possible. Sit on the floor of your old living room and hold back the tears at the amount of crap that is still left to deal with. Realize that there is no one to call to get help from. Curse yourself and your chronic procrastination. Go into the closet and wonder if there is really any reason to hold onto the prom dress your mom sewed for you or your grandparents china.

Take a few bags of trash down to the dumpster. Wish that instead of watching 5 hours of America’s Next Top Model, you had gone out Saturday night and found some nice, strong boy who would love to carry heavy things and take trash out in return for sexual favors. Must be clean, cute is optional. 

Make sure to have an appointment on your moving day for something completely unrelated, say taking your dog to the vet for shots. Once you have cleared whatever momentum you had going, make sure to add as many expenses to the trip as possible. Extra heartworm pills and flea treatment….bring it on. You’re already hemorrhaging money at this point, what’s a couple hundred more dollars.

Work yourself to supreme exhaustion. To where you are driving in the turn lane for a couple of miles before you notice. Don’t take pain pills until day 3….then curse yourself for not working out more (i.e. at all)

Figure out a way to postpone the final cleaning of your apartment and go to your new place. Bask in the glory of being alone. All alone. Alone in that big apartment with a big new bed that you will also sleep alone in (save your pets, who are apt to be pissing you off at this point because they are stressed and you find yourself actually saying to them “what the fuck do YOU have to be stressed about?!?”) Take a bath and shave your legs above the knee for no one.  Figure out how to hook up your DVD player and watch a couple of hours of Sex and the City. Make sure to watch the season where Carrie has no man and such. Season 5 I believe it is. It’s all about confusing messages from males and such….good times! Go to bed, exhausted and already anticipating the pain of the next day and trying to divise a way to just leave your old place as is without going broke with “cleaning charges.”  Snuggle up to your dog and convince yourself that even though he can’t carry anything, or help pack or clean and has out of nowhere shit on the floor of your new place, you really LOVE being single.

What’s on my mind today.

  1. a certain friend who is being distant these days. When I ask them about something in particular they indicate that I don’t know what’s going on with their world right now and when I point out that the inquiry was attempting to remedy that precise situation, they say nothing.
  2. an email a friend sent me the other day about “farting strawberries” that continues to make me laugh out loud.
  3. how men can walk into the bathroom with a cup of coffee or other beverage in their hands and do their business. Even if they put the cup on the counter, who knows what kind of “spray” is floating around there. My office is across from the men’s room and I have offered my desk, etc…as a storage spot for beverages. Not nearly enough of them have taken me up on this offer.
  4. sometimes I think that I don’t express aspects of my personality and interest correctly. For example, I love to go to art shows, etc….but I think most people think I’m just a bar type gal.
  5. in addition to art, I also enjoy this immensely. If only I could roller skate and was at all a bad ass.
  6. I want attention from boys, but I don’t want to have to ask for it. Wait, correction, I want attention from certain boys.
  7. most people don’t get me. It’s not that I’m all complicated or anything, I think people just don’t know what to make of me a lot of the time. I guess it makes sense since I don’t know what to make of myself a lot of the time. Perhaps I need to find more folks who are willing to come along for the ride.
  8. There is a boy/man in my office whose hair I want to run my fingers through. In a meeting yesterday I could vividly imagine myself reaching across the table and doing just that. I even think my arm twitched a bit in an effort to move my imagination into reality.
  9. I can’t wait to move into my new place, but HATE packing.
  10. If I look just to the right of my monitor I see my Tim Gunn bobblehead and a chair that has one of my old bridesmaid dresses and a box with a broken piggy bank in it.
  11. My hair needs to be colored in the worst way.
  12. Everyone keeps coming in and “borrowing” my flavored coffee creamer. Whatever.
  13. There is a member of my family who is dying. This person has done terrible things and has pretty much ruined a segment of my family. However, they have recreated themselves for people who don’t know the “other stuff” and those people are completely devastated at the idea of the loss. I feel bad for the people who are able to live in ignorant bliss about this person.
  14. I miss my girlfriends in Cali. like crazy. Recently I’ve just wished it was like 9 years ago and we were all ruling the music department at a So Cal Borders with caustic wit and more estrogen then you can shake a stick at. The best part is that, even though we don’t see each other very often (and I see them the least of all) I know that they will always have my back and I will always have theirs.
  15. I really wish the damn IT guy would come load iTunes on my computer!!!!
  16. cupcakes again……
  17. my dog
  18. how my March madness bracket could have gone SO badly. However, not badly enough for me to be in last place in the work pool, where I would at LEAST get my $10 back!

Ok–that’s all. My mind has just stopped suddenly. I will now go watch the clock countdown until I will leave the office and go to the bar to play some trivia and drink some vodka…..but seriously, I do like art 🙂

I’ve got the Austin itch….

Don’t worry,  it’s  not some strange disease that stems from too much Shiner Bock, queso dip and swimming in Barton Springs. It may be contagious though.

I want to go to Austin so bad I can’t stand it. It is one of my favorite places on the planet. I can honestly say that arriving in Austin makes me happier then arriving in any other city. NYC has some power over me, but nothing like Austin. You get off the plane there and you are greeted with live music and taco carts, even in the morning….AHH breakfast tacos, *sigh* You go out and grab a tacky turquoise cab courtesy of Roy’s Taxi and the adventure begins.

The last time I was in Austin, I arrived at 2:30 in the afternoon on a Friday.  I picked up a rental car and drove towards Zilker Park.  I remembered there was a Whataburger right there and stopped to get some grub.  Took my burger to the picnic tables by Barton Springs and just sat there, ate and smiled. The late March air was warm and sweet and intoxicating. After a walk around the park and recalling the last time I was there during the ACL Festival and how it was quite a different place, I hopped back in the car and set off to drive. I just drove and drove and drove. I got caught in rush hour on Capital of Texas Highway and even that made me happy.

After my hours long driving around Austin, I parked near La Zona Rosa, my ultimate destination to watch the live recording of my favorite band’s new live record.  Since it was so close to Sixth Street, I set out just walking around and ended up needing a cocktail. I strolled into Katz’s Deli and hopped into a seat at the bar. The bartender was just starting her shift and was in the lovely mood that I come to expect in Austin. There are no strangers there. There are some strange folks, but they only add to the happiness. So I ordered my Tito’s and Tonic and we started chatting. She opened a fresh bottle of Tito’s for me and we talked about how awesome it is that this great vodka was made right there in Austin and how H.E.B had some great juices to use as mixers with it. Good times.

Once I was nicely “titoed up” I strolled a couple of blocks over to La Zona Rosa. Reckless Kelly is a huge reason I love Austin. I have met some great folks through them and they are some of the sweetest and most fun guys you will ever know, musician or not. The crowd that night was thick with die hard fans. Folks were there from California, Florida and even England. That is how beloved they are!  Luckily I had met some “Millicaners” earlier and they saved me a spot up front by Cody, where I always like to be!  The show, well, it rocked. Nearly two years later and I am still trying to understand the wonderfulness of that night.

After the show and some post show drinking at the bar next door, the party moved to “The Shed”–if you are an RK fan, you know what that means. The party continued until all hours of the morning. I had a 7 am flight, so I had to leave around 5:30 and as I walked out there were people who were just arriving.

So—even though I spent only 17 hours in town….it was glorious.

But I didn’t get to have migas, or Amy’s Guiness Ice Cream. I didn’t get to go shopping on South Congress. I didn’t bar hop on Sixth Street. I didn’t swim in Barton Springs or see the bats. I didn’t get to have late morning coffee at Mozarts’s on Lake Austin or go shopping at Central Market. I didn’t get a stomach ache from too much Sweet Leaf Organic Mint & Honey Green tea or take a short trip to eat meat at Kreuz’s 
in Lockhart. All of these are reasons that I must go back. I must go back to Austin soon. I would love to take a road trip there with a couple of girlfriends (to help me look at all the cute Texas boys) and Noodle (because he would LOVE it there) and just hang out for a couple of weeks. Being cool, even though it’s almost always hot there. Eating good food. Talking to great people and just remembering that this is one of the best cities on the planet.

However, for what it’s worth, Nashville will always be home……..

“If I know what love is, it is because of you.”….Herman Hesse

One year ago today, I was living my life. Loving my new job. Thrilled to be out of my old job and feeling as though I was back to being myself, perhaps an even better version of myself then I had been.

That was a Monday. The next day, Tuesday, I looked around the Craigslist pet listings as I was known to do to kill time. For some reason, that day, I decided that I wanted a dog. Well, I had wanted one for awhile, but that day I decided I was going to get one. I wanted a small dog. A purse dog. A dog that I could take with me pretty much wherever I wanted. I came across an add for a Pomeranian/Chihuahua mix. The ad said it was 6 months old, pretty much full grown and up to date on shots. The little picture was the cutest thing I had seen in a long time.

I responded to the ad immediately. Turns out the ad had only been up for like 5 minutes so I was the first call. I made plans to drive to Clarksville that night to “look at” the puppy. Sweet Nikki agreed to go with me and she, Brianna and I piled into the car and drove to Clarksville.

I had made plans to meet the woman in the parking lot of WalMart. After some interesting searching….do you know how many blue mini vans are in the Clarksville WalMart parking lot?…we found her. What I assume to be her daughter brought the puppy out and it was a done deal. I grabbed that little ball of fur, handed over the “adoption fee” gave her my email so she could send me the vet records and then and there, I was a dog mom.

He was so small and furry and snuggly. I couldn’t believe he was mine. We went to PetSmart to get all of his accessories. Here is the first picture I took of him:

The “Nature’s Miracle” package in the background was pure coincidence. We stocked up on his needs and got back in the car to drive home. The whole way home he snuggled up into my neck and eventually fell asleep. It was LOVE!!! Nikki and I tried to come up with names and quite frankly, I can’t remember any of the names we discussed. Out of nowhere, I remembered a dog that a friend of mine had drawn. We joked about making a whole cartoon about this dog and becoming famous. I even “wrote” a theme song. The dog’s name was Noodle. It was perfect. Cute, fun to say, spoke of my love of carbs and just worked.

I finally got home, introduced him to the cats and there I was, Noodle’s mom and my life was more complete then I could have imagined.

Our first week together was a dream. I couldn’t wait to get home to him. He peed on his pee pee pads. He chased the cats. He slept with me and made cute little puppy noises at night. It was ideal. Until I broke him. After exactly one week of being together, he ran out from under a chair and I stepped on his little leg. He made the most horrific noise and my heart broke right there. Eventually I found an emergency vet and off we were. I was bawling my eyes out and he was licking my hand. His concern was my happiness, not his injury.

The first thing I learned at the vet was not the state of his leg, but rather, the fact that the woman who had placed the ad for him was either delusional or a big fat liar. He was only MAYBE 3 months old, no where near full grown and had no sort of Pomeranian OR Chihuahua in him. Not that it mattered at that point, I was in for the long haul. After some x-rays and such, it was determined that he had a broken leg. They brought my little guy out with a big blue cast on. My heart broke all over again. But when he licked my face the second I took him in my arms, I knew it was going to be alright.

He used that cast any way he could. He ran around like a pirate dog with it knocking on the floor. It didn’t slow him down. He would bang it on the floor when I wasn’t paying attention to him. He used it on the cats as a weapon. He would make sure I remembered it was there whenever he was getting in trouble.

As a result of his injury he had a lot of vet trips. As a result of the vet trips, he got to come to the office a lot. He was an instant hit. If you ever start a new job and have trouble meeting folks, bring a little puppy with a broken leg and a great personality in and you will meet everyone. He was the agency mascot. We joked about putting him on the payroll as a “Vice President of Good Moods.” It was great.

About the time his cast came off, he was four months old, which is a good time to determine what size he would be. He weighed about 12 lbs at 4 months, which meant he would be 25-30 lbs when he was full grown. If he was going to be a purse dog, I was going to need a MUCH bigger purse. Friends joked that he wasn’t just “Noodle” anymore….he was more like “Lasagna” but as his size grew, my love for him grew too.

I would like to not come across as a crazy dog lady and hope to go on dates and such, but dammit, I love my dog. Seriously, I can have a horrendous day and as soon as I remember that his furry face is going to greet me as I open the door…it’s all OK.

He’s an amazing listener:

He likes to stay well read:

He protects me:

He’s good on car trips:

He likes ice cream:

He’s not afraid to give me his opinion:

He knows how to enjoy a nice relaxing day on the couch:

He lets me dress him up (but doesn’t alway like it):

But most of all, he makes me super happy and has brought things to my life that I didn’t even know I was missing!:

Happy anniversary my furry friend. I hope to some day be half the person you think I am. I also hope to find the human version of you…..but maybe I should hope for half the human version of you 🙂

Only Child’s Dilemma?

I must preface this with the following: I am, in general, very happy in my life. I want for little (other then silly, expensive things that would only stress me out to own), I have wonderful friends, a job I love and feel as though I am taken care of (in a universal sense). However, there seems to be something missing.

Growing up an only child (an only child of divorce no less!) I was used to being the center of attention. While I can still be the center of my parents’ attention….it doesn’t really count anymore. At this point in my life I feel like I am a guest star in a few folks’ world, even occasionally a SPECIAL guest star, but I am not a regular. I’m not a permanent fixture in any group of friends. I’m not the first person anyone calls about much of anything. I’m feeling sort of “island” like…and I don’t like it.

This time of year brings out all kinds of odd issues like this for me.  I come from a small family, no matter how far you extend the family tree, there simply aren’t many of us. If you include the people I actually KNOW…even smaller. People I actually LIKE is a VERY small number. Yet, somehow, I feel like I want to be close to these people this time of year.

Of course, this issue instantly brings to mind the lack of a “special someone” in my life.  Why, oh why, does this pop up in nearly every “issue” that arises in my life. I want to say that I am too independent to be in a relationship. I want to say that I am happiest when I am alone. I want to say that I couldn’t care less if I ever find someone who wants to spend endless hours with me learning the random things that make up my history, telling me the random things that make up his history and creating new random stories that will be OUR history together. But that is all a big stinkin’, festering lie. I see myself being attracted to people merely because I think they are more likely to be attracted to me—-usually because I feel like they have lowered their standards.  I flirt with boys that I find truly attractive or interesting and the second they respond, I clam up.

I see so many of my friends in relationships, healthy and otherwise and I compare myself to them. I look for what it is about them that makes them be chosen by someone else and not me. It’s a horrible thing to do, never compare yourself to someone else, but it’s hard not to. 

I’m just kind of spinning here, and I know it. Perhaps the man of my dreams isn’t hanging out at the sort of scary yet fun place we played darts on Friday? Perhaps he’s at the East Nashville dog park, not the Centennial Park one?  Maybe he’s at one of the shows that I can always talk myself out of going to alone? Maybe he’s down the hall from my office?  I don’t know where he is, but I refuse to give up hope that he is indeed out there.

So there.