different and the same

Gotta do my Monday Listicle.  Because you know, it is Monday.  And I love lists.  And lamp.  I love lamp.  Anyway, the topic is ten ways that you are the same or different than your younger self.  So here goes...


1.  I don't waste my time on irritating people.  I just feel like life is too short to even waste minutes on people that you don't like if you don't absolutely have to.

2.  I don't hairspray the shit out of my hair.  Or get body waves for that matter.  I like easy.  Easy and low maintenance means a lot to me.  I don't have the patience to do much more than dry my hair these days.  Maybe I should do more, I don't know.

3.  I don't read "real" books nearly as much as I used to.  Kind of miss holding a book and turning actual paper pages.  This electronic age has kind of changed the amount of books on my bookshelf.  Which is kind of sad, don't you think?  

4.  I don't work.  Well, outside of being a mom.  Trust me, I know that being a mom is a ton of work, but I used to be a mom and work outside of the home and phew.  I think now that I'm old I have less energy, and juggling both of those things would be much harder.

5.  I don't really enjoy swimming.  I'll wade.  Or walk.  Or even float, but I don't love to swim anymore.  

6.  I love most veggies now.  When I was younger, I avoided veggies big time, except corn.  These days I avoid brussel sprouts.  And maybe extra soft cooked broccoli, but other than that, I'll try whatever.

7.  I'm a little more interested in politics and the issues of the times.  I think back in the day I registered Republican because it helped me get a job at the state.  I actually had no idea what the difference between Democrats and Republicans were, and honestly, I didn't really care.  Now I know, and now I care.  And now I'm registered differently.

8.  I still love music.  I can't really remember a time when music didn't matter to me.  From records, to 8 track tapes, to cassettes to Cd's to iPods... lots of change, right?  The thing that hasn't changed is the love part.

9.  I still suck at sports.  Yeah, I've never been coordinated enough to be good at anything.  I've never liked playing team sports.  I guess I felt like there was too much pressure and I was always worried that I'd look stupid or let my team down.  I'm very happy to watch, especially sports that my husband or kids are playing. I guess if forced, I'd choose individual type sports, like biking or walking or running or something along those lines.  I'm not too bad at tennis though I guess.

10. I still love being a mom and taking care of my family.  From the moment I held my first kiddo, 23ish years ago, I knew that being a mom was one of the things I would be kind of good at, one of the things that I was put here to do.  I still kind of feel that way.  I still love taking care of my family.  I kind of feel like it's my purpose. 

I want.

I want a few things. Not just one. A few. First, I want there really to be a vampire like Edward. Oh RELAX.  I know! I know!! Edward and Twilight and vampires are so last year. But I can’t help it. I wouldn’t be into the bloodsucking though because that’s just gross.

Also, I want a bunch of chickens – running around deep in my backyard so they don’t bug me, but they lay a lot of eggs so I can just go out to my yard and pick them up and eat them without having to pay anything, and knowing that they are clean(ish) and not injected with all sorts of gross stuff. Which brings me to wanting a great garden, without having to actually do the gardening part. For all of the reasons of the chicken except the egg part. And I would take a cow for the same reason but I think I would feel too guilty to kill it and eat it so it would turn into a pet cow and then I might have to name it something all cute, like… Mister Moo or something. And while I am being all earthy and stuff, I definitely want a windmill.  That crap would be the bomb.  Not just because of the green-ness of it all, but also because I hate my electric bill and I think electric companies are a racket.  And finally, I want a craft room. And an upstairs vacuum, and a black Labradoodle and definitely a really good but easy to use camera. With a zoom. And knitting. I want that too. I want to be a knitter. And a sewer. NOT a SEWER but a SEW-er. Like, a person who can sew!! Just to clarify. Because who would want to BE a sewer?? Nobody would. Because there there would be far too much poop and chemicals involved. Anyway. That’s all I could come up with on such short notice.

Oh yeah!! I forgot one thing!! I want a pool that has its own tube slide thing that goes far and fast, like at a water park. I hate water parks because I hate getting in a bathing suit in public and I hate the thought of germs and people peeing in the pool and swimming in some random person’s pee and germs. Because the thought of that makes my skin crawl.  So yeah. I want one of those. But it has to be huge, otherwise the ride is too short and the effort to climb back up for another ride would just be exhausting.  Unless of course there was an elevator involved.  An escalator would be better though, because my sister is neurotic scared of elevators and confined spaces and it would be less fun if my sister couldn't come over and go down my slide with me.

(That is not me.  I know this because I have a bigger boob.  And I don't have a monkey.)

Fine. I’ll take a cute monkey that is little like a baby and wears baby clothes and a diaper too (is that weird?). But definitely not the kind that gets all scary and violent and rips your face off.  And I would teach it sign language so we could communicate.  And possibly a dolphin in my (water slide) pool. Except it would have to be able to do cool tricks. Which would probably mean a trainer. So then I’d have to have a guest house too because the trainer is definitely NOT sleeping in my house. I hate sleepovers. I would make an exception if the dolphin trainer was Edward Cullen. And then he could sleep in my bed. With me, of course.  Alex wouldn't even mind because Edward is my new free kiss.

So I think I've pretty much covered everything.  Except a cleaning lady and a personal chef (only if he would wear a chef hat the whole time he was cooking though).  And a driver and personal trainer.  Shoot.  Somebody stop me.  This I want thing is getting out of hand.  So what do you want?

ps.  You can all blame the Bloggess for this long-winded and self serving post.  It all started with me commenting on her post about insomnia.  And weird wants.  But I'm pretty sure her readers are way more freaky than you guys.

8 Bad Dates Part Uno

I am pretty sure I could make a movie called 32 [crappy] Dates.  It would star me as the girl who consistently found herself in far too many less than spectacular situations with some less than spectacular guys.

When I was all single and lonesome, people were always trying to set me up.  I was so fickle though, (and in a serious guy-hating sad funk) even the slightest thing would have me changing my phone number and getting it unlisted to avoid the unwanted phone calls and voice messages that I would get from people that I had no interest in dating or going on a second date with. (Holy run-on-sentence Batman!)   I actually changed/unlisted my telephone number several times.  I kid you not. 


Anyway.  I was thinking about all of the things that turned me off in guys and potential second dates in general when I was younger, and it sounds very shallow and mean now.  Seriously, I should be embarrassed for even writing this down and sharing it with the potential world, but what the hell, right?  I can only claim dumb young girl-ness for my rotten, shameful behavior.  

But let's get on with the meanie that I was back in the day.

One guy, who my husband, sisters and their respective spouses call the D.H.er (for reasons that I cannot disclose) was a smoker (yeah, not my thing - no offense) and he totally overstayed his welcome and rolled his cigarettes into a little neat line on the table.  Like, weirdly obsessive.  That guy did not get a second date.  I saw him from afar at a department store years later (incidentally, he was wearing a cheesy suit) and hid from him in the clothing racks. 

I also had a real live stalker once.  He even called my sister and (literally) cried at her that I refused to return his calls.  But in my defense, he turned all weird and got high and told me he shaved himself.  In the downstairs region.  If you get my drift.  That seriously grossed me out (no offense to those that are into that) and I got out of that one as fast as possible.

Once this cutie cop who used to come into my work a lot suggested we meet up out at this bar for a few drinks and I was all, "OK, cool, I'll be there!"  and I showed up and he had these hideous stark white sneakers on.  Practically glowing in the dark.  For some reason I totally couldn't get past the sneakers so I found a way to sneak out of there and never spoke to him again.

There was also that short window salesman who my brother-in-law Ty set me up with that showed up in a green pleather (as in plastic leather) jacket.  Besides being of extra short stature, he was BORING.  (I have nothing against short.  I married short.  I am just trying to paint a picture for you.) Ty knew me.  What the hell was he thinking??  Short, pleather jacket guy got the boot.

(rob can wear a green pleather jacket whenever he wants to)

My Mom once tried to set me up with a house painter who she thought was so nice, and I was slightly interested until I heard his last name was Hoare.  He tried to say it was pronounced like "whore-ay," but it didn't fly with me. I mean, why even go down that road if you could potentially show up at your 20 year reunion and introduce yourself as Jessica Hoare.  Yup. Good try Mom.

There was this adorable guy that I had been crushing on for literally years.  Definitely tall, dark and handsome.  He was super flirty every time we were in the same vicinity, and finally we kind of actually made a plan to get together.  We went down to the river, hung out and talked for a long time, it was really nice, and I was liking him.  Til he kissed me.  Which was gross, and totally not all it was cracked up to be.  He was a terrible kisser and there was no way to deny it, because you know, kissing is sort of important.

Then there was this guy I met at work who was interested in me.  Even though I didn't know him too well, I thought he was cute and seemed nice, so I went with it.  He was a little older than me.  We met for a group date at a lake, things were going OK and then he took his shirt off to go swimming and it looked like he was wearing a sweater vest.  I mean, he was so very hairy, I almost gagged.  That and the fact that he had B.O. was a huge turn off.  No offense to all of the smelly, hairy guys out there and the women who love them, but I just couldn't get past it.  Then I later heard that he was married and I was so offended.  I felt really sorry for his wife because she ended up with a stinky, hairy cheater.

I would consider this a sweater as opposed to a sweater vest, but thanks either way google)

And finally, while we are talking about older hairy guys who I met at work, I will leave you with the image of this guy I will call Mr. Beach, just for the heck of it.  On this first date we met at his apartment, and I was sitting there on the couch waiting for him while he changed before we went to where ever it was that we were going.  Well, I think he thought I would like it, but he came out with no shirt on and he was really muscular (which actually turned me off very much in itself), and flexing (kind of like he would make a big muscle while he picked up a cup of water or something. ew.) but he was also pale and freckly, and all of the no-shirt wearing and miscellaneous flexing caused me to notice one very random patch of fur on his back that was about the size of my face.  And he had two snarling pit-bulls locked up in the kitchen and he had cheesy mood music on.  It was bad.  Really, really bad.

I know this may sound harsh of me.  Sorry, but I have to tell it like it is.  Or was.  Shockingly, I have many more stories of this nature, and maybe I will share them in another post.  A Part II of 8 more bad dates that I have been on!  Woo hoo!

I'll bet you are all on the edge of your seats...

wordless wednesday - eye spy my green eye