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The Dating Game

  • January 9, 2009

Trish has recently joined and she’s finding the world of online dating very entertaining. She sends me all kinds of e-mails with responses from various men who have checked out her profile and sent her a message. I’m not sure how I got sucked into the clusterfuck that is her dating pool but since I have, I think I’m entitled to give her some advice whether she wants it or not.

From what I’ve been able to piece together from her dating correspondence, Trish already shattered one man’s heart by telling him that she is “only looking for metro sexual yuppies that ride Hondas and don’t need Viagra. And since only young men have the sex drive, muscles, and stamina she is looking for, old guys shouldn’t even bother. Even when SHE’S old she’s not going to date them. She also prefers clean-shaven men, not Kenny Rogers look alikes with glasses that tint when they walk outdoors.”

Ouch! Frankly I can’t imagine what prompted this exchange and I’m dying to know what Kenny Rogers said to Trish to make her respond so harshly. I don’t know how Kenny even made it through the matching process since they’re obviously NOT compatible. Since I know her password I decided to go to her profile and do a little investigating.

Trish has listed herself as a social drinker (maybe one or two drinks). Really Trish? What about that time you drank 5 glasses of Merlot at the bowling alley? Even though you soaked your shirt in OxyClean I can still see where you threw up on it. What about last Saturday when you and Kristi left a path of alcohol fueled destruction in my house? I’m sure I can come up with several more examples of your recent intoxication if I had more time.

Try to limit yourself to only 2 cocktails when you are on a date. Remember, no man wants to see your eyes unable to focus in the same direction while you slur and cackle your way through dinner (wait until you’re married and then it’s no biggie).

Trish listed in-line skating as one of her interests. Wait, you mean the in- line skates you asked me to sell in my last garage sale along with your crappy old stereo? What if you meet a nice man on and he wants to go in-line skating? Will you be driving to Scheels to buy a new pair?

She is listed as a daily smoker. Trish? Go to Walgreen’s on your way home from work and buy one of those nicotine patches. Slap it on, ditch the smokes, and febreze the hell out of everything. Voila! There will be a whole new batch of eligible men coming your way. (And to all my girlfriends who are still smoking? Please do this as well. I love you all and if anything happens to you I will have to drink wine all by myself).

There was a section where Trish could list her ideal man’s turn ons. Trish, please remove erotica. Men are visual creatures and can be aroused by an errant bra strap. All men love erotica so referring to it at all is completely redundant. It might also be why you’re getting winks and e-mails from every man on in the tri state area.

Your townhouse is not a sex portal and you don’t live in a red light district so remove everything from your profile that might inadvertently give men the idea that you are easy. No man should even be seeing the inside of your kitchen until after the third date or your bedroom until the fourth. I think you’ll attract a better caliber of men if you go for more goddess and less bad girl.

I know what you’re thinking and I’m not saying these men aren’t going to buy the cow if you give them the milk immediately. I’m proof that you can give some milk to one of them a tad early and still be with him 16 years later. But this is not about me Trish. It’s about you.

At least you’ve gone legit and joined I don’t know where you were finding those other x-rated suitors who texted you at all hours of the day and night. And P.S.? If you don’t change your text tone to something other than Daughtry’s It’s Not Over, I am going to drop your cell phone into a dirty toilet. It even annoys the offspring when you’re over here. Shit can that song and replace it with a nice little bell or chirp.

And according to an article on the MSN home page, if you want to attract a man you should wear red, not black. Dave was telling me just the other day that too many of my clothes are black and I should wear another color. Thank you Mr. Blackwell but I don’t usually take fashion advice from a man who owns a gray wife beater with the Tasmanian devil on the front. (But maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea Trish, to buy a red sweater or something. You never know).

Anyway, I know you’re having a lot of fun right now but in time, you may actually find someone on that you really like. And I want him to know he is lucky to have found you too. There’s a hero out there for you Trish. Please hold out for him.

So you think you can dance?

  • January 7, 2009

I went to a Body Jam class at the Y this morning. I didn’t know what to expect since I haven’t taken an aerobics class since the early 90’s. My cardio workouts are of the solitary kind these days but since I had such a good experience in a group environment on Monday, I was looking forward to trying out the class. I was hoping it wasn’t going to be full of queer jazzercise moves like the grapevine and I wanted it to be challenging because I was taking the class instead of spending 45 minutes on the Stairmaster.

The instructor was great. She showed up in pink and gray camouflage pants with matching shoes and a sparkly pink military style hat. I liked her immediately. The room was packed so I figured she must be pretty popular.

The class consisted of hip-hop style combinations that we kept building on by adding more moves. I loved it. It was nothing like aerobics in the 90’s and the choreography was way cool. I could see myself doing some of the moves on a real dance floor with my girlfriends if I had enough wine in me.

And it was not easy. I always wear my heart rate monitor to track my calories burned because of Weight Watchers and I spent a lot of time in what I’m going to start referring to as the coronary zone. This class kicked my ass. I thought I was in pretty good shape cardiovascularly, especially when I work out on my NordicTrack but apparently I am not nearly as fit as I thought I was.

At one point my heart rate monitor showed 00 so I assumed I had died but since I was still booty poppin’ and shaking my groove thing all over the place I finally realized that the chest strap on my heart rate monitor had slipped down and wasn’t picking up my heartbeat.

The class finally ended 56 minutes after it started. I was totally wiped out and when I looked at my heart rate monitor to see how many calories I had burned it said 666. It was a devil of a workout.

My original plan was to check out Body Jam and then stay for Y-pump, which is the class I went to on Monday. I realized when Body Jam ended that taking another class was unnecessary and stupid.

Body Jam + Y-Pump= dead housewife.

But I’m definitely going back to this class on Wednesdays. I might take it on Saturday or Sunday at another Y location because I liked it so much. In time I’ll start my slow hostile takeover of one of the good front row spots. Then it really will feel like the 90’s again.

A family dinner, hibachi style

  • January 6, 2009

The other night Dave and I decided to go out for a family dinner. I wanted sushi but Dave and the offspring wanted chicken or steak so we decided to try a new restaurant that just opened by Jordan Creek Mall called Samurai Sushi and Hibachi since we figured they’d have something for everyone.

I was in the throes of some pretty lethal PMS (and had no business even going to a restaurant that served soy sauce) and I told Dave I hoped this wasn’t one of those places where you had to sit around a big table with people you don’t know because I wasn’t in the mood. Dave likes discussing my PMS about as much as he likes putting the Christmas lights on the roof so he told me if it was, I was just going to have to deal with it.

When we got to the restaurant the waitress led us to a table for 15 and started filling it up with people I’ve never seen in my life. Dave tried to leave a space between himself and a man I’ll call Joe Plumber but the waiter asked him to move over so they would be sitting right next to each other which is probably why Dave ordered sake immediately.

I swapped out my diet coke for a glass of wine when the waitress brought more people to the table. A woman I’ll call lady Fat Albert didn’t look very friendly and the girl sitting next to her had a stocking cap pulled down almost to her nose just like Fat Albert’s friend always did. And yes I’m going straight to hell for referring to someone as a female version of an obese cartoon character. Tell me something I don’t know. I’m sure she was equally impressed with the slightly bloated and bitchy pre-menstrual housewife sitting across from her and probably had PLENTY to say about me to her friends later.

The chef finally got the show started by lighting a bunch of cooking oil on fire right in front of us. I’m not sure I left the restaurant with all the eyebrows I came in with and I’m really glad Matthew no longer has a fire phobia because the chef was a crazy pyromaniac.

The first thing he started making after the smoke cleared was fried rice. Lauren is allergic to eggs so Dave tried to make the chef understand that he needed to leave her rice plain. A complete communication breakdown ensued that resulted in the chef taking all the eggs away while everyone at the table glared at us. Dave tried unsuccessfully to make the chef understand that he could use the eggs for everyone else’s rice but not Lauren’s. Dave then flagged down someone else and started explaining how the chef did not understand us so Dave tried to make the new person comprehend our situation and then translate. Our fellow diners did not look very happy with us and unless the employees at Samurai Sushi and Hibachi are really good at charades they probably didn’t know what the hell we were trying to tell them. Finally it looked like they understood but that didn’t stop me from checking my purse to make sure I had my epi-pen and some Benadryl handy.

The chef started cooking everything and then tried to get fancy by throwing food into everyone’s mouth. His aim was really shitty and food was bouncing off the offspring’s faces like crazy. I don’t think one single thing made it into their mouths. The chef over at Ohana Steak House is way better at that kind of thing.

Eventually the universal equalizer (liquor) kicked in and everyone started talking to each other. Lady Fat Albert was actually a single mother who worked for FEMA and was living here temporarily with her two children. They had relocated from Chicago and she told us she was very impressed with our school system and neighborhoods.

Joe Plumber was actually a single dad named James who worked as a parole officer and had adopted all 6 of his (special needs) kids on his own. One of them was with him at the table and even though he didn’t take his ear buds out the whole time we were eating he seemed like a nice kid.

Everyone complimented us on how well behaved our children were (I KNOW!) I don’t think we’re going to be exchanging Christmas cards next year or anything but it just goes to show that you should never judge people before you’ve had a chance to get to know them no matter how much fun it is.

Maybe the Japanese are onto something with their table arrangements and sake. They probably made fun of all of us once we left the restaurant. Actually they probably made fun of us while we were there since we couldn’t understand a word they were saying. But I think everyone felt a little better at the end of the meal then they did when it started.

Resolutions and Routines

  • January 5, 2009

The offspring headed back to school and Dave went back to work today. Thank God! It’s nice and quiet here at home which is the way mama likes it. Now I just need to get back into my normal routine, the one that doesn’t include daily trips to the wine aisle at Dahl’s and 4 Motrin.

I started going to the YMCA today. The offspring really like the indoor pool and water slide there so we signed up for a family membership.

I’m not used to exercising with a bunch of people around me. I usually work out at home because we have a treadmill and a NordicTrack in the basement. I can wear workout clothes that don’t match and if I get too hot I can whip my shirt off and work out in my sports bra if I feel like it. I can put my hair up in a sloppy ponytail and sing out loud when a good song comes on my ipod. Something tells me that kind of behavior may not be appreciated at the Y.

But one of the reasons I did want to join the Y is because they have a class called Y-pump and since I do no strength training whatsoever (because it’s totally boring), one of my resolutions was to start achieving a better balance between cardio and weights. I might even go crazy and start working on my abs instead of telling Dave I want a tummy tuck for Mother’s Day.

Anyway, I really liked the class. The instructor seemed to have a good sense of humor and she played a lot of loud music. I think I need to use heavier weights next time though because the class wasn’t that hard.

Going to the Y is going to take some getting used to. Even though I am an extremely social person, I really like working out at home alone. But this Y-pump class is one of my resolutions so I need to make it part of my routine. I think I can do that.

Trish and Kristi make a mess

  • January 5, 2009

Remember in college when you used to go to the bar and they had dime draws or ladies night or some other special and you would drink so much cheap beer you’d puke your guts out in the bathroom and one of your friends would be in charge of cleaning you up and making sure you got home okay?

Substitute Trish and Kristi for you, martinis for beer, and my couch with its light colored Pottery Barn slipcover that I just washed two weeks ago for a toilet, and you have a good idea of what went down here last night.

Trish and Kristi started out at Dragon House because really, who doesn’t want to have a drink in the bar of a run down Chinese restaurant on a Saturday afternoon. They called me to ask if I thought Kristi would be okay if she had a martini even though she’d already had 3 beers. I generously gave her the go ahead because I figured who cares? Certainly this decision will have no effect on me. And she had already ordered the martini and was actually drinking it when she called to ask my opinion so I guess she just wanted some reassurance that her decision was a good one.

When they showed up at my house an hour later I quickly realized we were at opposite ends of the sobriety spectrum. They were also completely annoying. I know I promised not to fight with Trish in 2009 but she started driving me crazy the minute she walked in the door because she was being sofa king LOUD and OBNOXIOUS I could hardly stand her. Kristi insisted on doing a bunch of handstands in the kitchen and I was afraid she was going to hit one of the pendant lights that hang over my island because her legs were kind of flailing everywhere.

Dave segregated Kristi, Trish, and I down in the basement. I made cosmopolitans but took Kristi’s away and gave her a Miller Lite when I realized how shitfaced she was. It was all in vain though because 10 minutes later I got to see the entire contents of Kristi’s stomach splashed all over my couch and rug.

Trish and I got her cleaned up a little and they decided to go home. Luckily Kristi lives right around the corner and she and Trish headed back to her place. Dave and I spent some quality time with various cleaning products but I think we got it all taken care of.

Next time I’m going to remember that everyone needs to start drinking at the same time. They had way too much of a head start and when they left, I was just starting to feel a cosmo buzz. Kristi and Trish always have a good time when they’re together and they are too entertaining for me to stay away from them for long. But next time they’re going to be doing the cleaning.

Dish and Bean

  • January 3, 2009
Trish and Kristi came over last night.

Just ask Dixie

  • January 3, 2009

I’m having a psychic party at the end of the month. I’m inviting 15 girlfriends over for wine and a peek at their future. Some of the girls I invite will be skeptical. Some will be too afraid of what they might find out. But I think the girls who came to my last psychic party will be looking forward to this one as much as I am. Because once you’ve learned a few things about yourself, you realize there’s a lot more you want to hear.

I first met Dixie when Stefani’s mom Patty hosted a psychic party. I didn’t really understand how it all worked but I was curious and they were serving alcohol. We sat in a big circle and you could ask Dixie one question that she would answer in detail. You could also give her the name of one person and she would tell you all about them.

Dave and I were coming up on our first wedding anniversary and were starting to think about having kids. I have always had a hard time not knowing what is in store for me and having kids was one of the biggest unknowns I had ever faced. We wanted them but would we be able to have them? Would we be able to get pregnant easily? How many would we have? When?

I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask Dixie such an important question, especially in front of everyone. I was a little scared about what I’d find out but I asked her anyway.

The first thing Dixie wanted to know was whether or not twins ran in my family. Everyone, including me, got a little freaked out since they all knew I had a twin sister. Dixie told me she saw a vision of me in late summer and I was bigger than I should have been for the number of months pregnant I was. I was floored. I knew that there was a possibility I could have twins but I thought it usually skipped a generation.

I got pregnant a month later and gave birth to just one baby in the middle of July. Turns out if you gain slightly more than the doctor recommended amount of weight (like double) and you give birth 14 days PAST your due date, and the baby weighs 9 lbs. 7 oz., every single person you know will say, “hey are you sure you’re not having twins?” for the entire last month of your pregnancy.

Dixie also read my palm and told me the following: I would have a long life and would live to be 75-90 years old. When I am 45-50 years old I will completely change the way I look at things. I have a strong talent line but she didn’t say what the talent was. I have two deep emotional attachment lines. She said I was bossy, had a little bit of a temper, and wanted to control life by compartmentalizing everything in neat little boxes. She said I was unable to relax and was always looking for the next task to complete. She also said I was compassionate, highly suspicious of others, a seeker of knowledge, and philosophical.

I saw Dixie two more times after that and each time I learned a few more interesting things. Supposedly I will be running my dad’s motorcycle shop someday and Dave and I are going to buy a big old house. Neither of those things seem likely to me now but I guess I’ll have to wait and see what happens.

Meanwhile, I need to be thinking about what to ask Dixie. I never ask anything I don’t want to know the answer to and I don’t want to talk to any dead people because a psychic party is supposed to be fun. I’ll let you know what I find out.

Happy New Year!!!

  • January 1, 2009

I’d like to dedicate this post to all my wonderful friends, especially the ones that called and/or texted me last night when they were totally shitfaced. Here are a few of my favorites.

Happy New Year Trish and Kristi! I received your completely incoherent gibberish filled voice mail when I finally checked my messages this morning. Just a couple things:

1. At what time last night did the two of you lose the ability to converse in English? I have no idea what language you were speaking and couldn’t hear a thing due to your screaming and maniacal laughter.

2. When you are done leaving me a message, please remember to actually hang up. Paradise by the Dashboard Light is a really long song and I had to listen to you sing for almost 2 minutes before I could delete you. And P.S.? You guys sucked!

Happy New Year Tom and Amy! I found your text quite amusing. I’m sorry that Amy broke a glass in the batch of WW brownies she was making. And I don’t know what that means. Was Amy drunk baking? Was it a wine glass and was it full of White Zinfandel? Did she make another batch or were you completely brownie-less on New Year’s Eve? And for the love of God, who are the Gunderson’s? I can’t keep all your aliases straight.

As for us, we spent the evening partying like rock stars. I’d like to play Rock Band again soon and I’m guessing if I play it when I’m sober I’ll be a little quicker and won’t miss every third note. Man they come up fast!

And Lisa? The somersault you did over the edge of the couch into my lap was some pretty fine gymnastics. I don’t know if you remember it but you totally nailed the landing. We’re both lucky I was not holding my wine glass at the time because frankly, you came out of nowhere.

Our lovely hostess Julie had the most awesome champagne ever. I can’t remember what it’s called (though I tried desperately to commit it to my long term memory last night) but it was red! It tasted great and it was my favorite color.

We’re watching the Hawks kick some serious ass right now but I have no idea what we’ll do with the rest of the day. I wish we had Rock Band at our house. I feel like jammin’.

In 2009 I will NOT

  • December 31, 2008

Scream really loud when Dave is about to hit another car because it drives him nuts.

Be super pissed at Dave for not answering his Blackberry, not knowing where it is, or not taking it off vibe so he can hear it ringing when I’m calling him.

Fight with Trish like we are 13 years old.

Keep telling Trish her Texas accent (which comes and goes) annoys the crap out of me.

Mess with Trish’s account, even though I know her password and could change her settings to attract only beer- bellied mama’s boys who live on farms.

Yell out a cuss word in front of the offspring and then try to turn it into a normal word (example: yelling shit really loud but then turning it into shiitake mushrooms).

Drink so much red wine it looks like I’m wearing purple lipstick.

Make disparaging remarks about the meeting leaders at Weight Watchers.

Keep referring to girls I don’t like as stupid crack whores.

Acknowledge stupid e-mail chain letters. Nothing BAD is going to happen to me if I don’t forward it to 10 of my friends. P.S., they don’t want it either.

Keep talking about the Dooney and Bourke medium chiara bag in black leather that I still don’t own.

Say out loud all the inappropriate things I may be thinking in my head.

Would you bite me, Edward Cullen?

  • December 31, 2008

I’ve got it bad for the vamps. I wish they were real. They’re gorgeous. And strong. And fast. A vampire is the ultimate bad boy. Yes, technically one could snap my neck like a twig or drain me of all my blood but those are just RANDOM DETAILS I’m not concerned with. Because lately I find vampires simply irresistible.

I didn’t lose my mind overnight and decide to lust after undead make believe men. It started when I read all four books in Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series. I also saw the Twilight movie last month with Amy. Then I moved on to The Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris (I’m on book eight). The HBO show True Blood is based on this series. We dropped HBO after Sex and The City ended but I think we might need to add it back.

First: Twilight. It’s a book about Bella and Edward, who attend high school together in Forks, Washington. Bella is the new girl, having just moved from Arizona, and Edward is a vampire. They slowly fall in love and Stephenie Meyer does an incredible job of building tension between Edward and Bella. Lot’s of tension. Smoking hot 41-year-old housewife caliber tension. Seriously, by the time I finished the first book I was ready to combust. I wasn’t really lusting after Edward, per se. He’s 17. I’m 41. We’re both in our sexual prime so we’d probably be quite compatible but I find that kind of creepy (to clarify – I only find the age difference creepy. I’m obviously okay with the vampire part).

I really loved this book series even though I wasn’t expecting to. Stephenie Meyer has managed to create a believable love story between two people that shouldn’t be together in the first place. That which is forbidden has a really strong attraction.

When I was done reading all the Twilight books, I moved on to Charlaine Harris’ Southern Vampire Mysteries. Finally, vamps closer to my own age. It’s much easier to lust after a vampire when he is not actually in high school. This series is about a telepathic barmaid named Sookie Stackhouse. She is an attractive, but quiet, young woman and she begins dating Bill the vampire after he walks into the bar where she works. She was a virgin but now she and Bill do it all the time. Then she and Bill broke up and she started doing it all the time with Eric the vampire. Now she’s getting ready to do it with a couple other vampires and I’m wondering if Sookie’s becoming a slut or she just can’t get enough. Either way, my infatuation with vampires does not show any sign of going away in the near future.

I think if I can actually find a real vampire I should be allowed to have my way with him if only to see for myself what all the fuss is about. And Dave? It’s a real shame you told me you never read my blog anymore because if you had read this post you wouldn’t be so blindsided when I tell you about my vampire lover. If you want to try and snare one of the Victoria’s Secret models you have my blessing. I am totally equal opportunity, especially when it comes to THINGS THAT DON’T HAVE A CHANCE IN HELL OF HAPPENING TO EITHER OF US.

Meanwhile, I’ll keep searching for the vampires. Maybe the werewolves of London know where they hang out and will point me in the right direction. Because I really need to know if the vamps are worth the hype.

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