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Thursday, September 3, 2015
Love Light
So. I was violated at the gym this evening. By my underwear. I don't know what I was thinking not bringing a reasonable
pair. Instead, I was wearing panties that should only be worn for a close encounter of the male kind. (It's all about being
prepared.) With short, baggy shorts. Not only was I violated but I also flashed the entire class every time I did a high kick
or hip stretches. Oh well. I couldn't wait to get out of there, I contemplated leaving the class early. When
I got to my car, I noticed a folded note tucked into my driver's door handle. Immediately, I thought, "Oh no! Someone
hit my car and left a note." Ugh. I threw my stuff in the car and walked around to find the damage, holding the folded
note in my hand. Nothing. "Hmm," I thought. I unfolded the note.
Can I just
tell you? Apparently, I have a secret admirer at the gym. It was a love note! Well, I'm exaggerating. It was a "I think
you're cute and want you to call me" note. It couldn't have come at a better time. It preceded an invitation from a former
flame who would like to help me prepare for my upcoming golf tournament. (Via text. You've read about him before.) He saw
my post about it on Facebook. You know what they say, "When one golf door closes, another one opens." They do say
that… Did I tell you I finally bought clubs? I had to. My boss invited the whole
office to play golf in an upcoming tournament for our members. I was the only female to bite, much to my 3 team members' disappointment.
I'll be playing in a foursome with 3 men who golf all the time. I know they hate me. Well, not really but, they're super annoyed
that I'm going to increase their score. That's inevitable. I've never played in a real game before. I've been practicing at
the driving range. Thank God I had a mini lesson during a date a few weeks ago! My drive has really improved. I'm almost up
to 200 yards, I nearly jumped for joy when I got the ball to where I wanted. Once. Back
to my admirer. I have no idea who it is. I did pass a cute guy walking into the gym and said hello. I'm assuming it was him.
I'm hoping it's another guy who I've noticed recently. I've been super smooth about it. Instead of coyly following him from
the heavy weights to the pull-up area with my eyes, I've been following him with my whole head. Very inconspicuous. I'm not
shy. Clearly. I'd be thrilled if it was that guy. Highly unlikely, though. He's witnessed
my lackadaisical push-up. He seems to be really into fitness. It's unfortunate men aren't into working out with their shirts
off at my conservative gym. I haven't texted my admirer yet. I will. I think it's cute.
Plus, his hand-writing and spelling were good. I'd meet him for a beer. Who knows? As
I drove home, I remembered a conversation with one of my former bosses. She didn't get why I was perpetually single. ("Have
you read my blog?" I wondered. "I'm a goofball, that's why.") She asked me if my love light was on; then, explained
that her mom always told her to leave her "love light" on. It's like when you're waiting for a cab in NYC, you only
try to hail the ones with the light on. It's an imaginary love antenna that men sense, apparently. I've thought about it on
and off for years. I guess mine hasn't been on; maybe I've been a little too independent. (I know that's not true but my mom
has been saying that for YEARS. Ugh.) Anyway, I think mine's finally on. Thank you, Tinder. I'm ready.
Thu, September 3, 2015 | link
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Whole
I've been hearing about a lot of breakups lately. Some of the relationships dragged on way too long and one of the
partners decided they were tired of wasting their time. Essentially. One of my friends had met someone online who she dated
for two years. At the beginning of the relationship, she seemed like she could take him or leave him. I wondered, "Why,
on Earth, would she continue?" Slim pickings, I suppose. It does freak me out a
little bit because she's beautiful. She's been married, has a grown daughter, and is exceptionally fit. Yet, she's still having
a tough time finding the right match for her. I have never been married, I'm without children, and I can barely squeak out
two push-ups. I'm an average brunette with an okay figure. (I've kept off the 10lbs! Hallelujah! My mom tells me I looked better 10lbs ago. I really can't win with her. Greeks are supposed to be curvy. I am; but
I am also half Swedish. Minus the height.) It isn't working out with my golfer, unfortunately.
I liked him a lot. He didn't feel the same, apparently. So, I'm back to my friend, Tinder. I changed my age again. The choices
for a, now, 43 year old woman are frightening. I'm not joking. Yuck. I know it's not all about looks but, I'm average. I'd
like someone, at least, average looking. I don't get the choice of photos. Some are so goofy! I have to do a double-take on
many of them because, I'm like, "Whaaatttt? Wtf is that guy thinking posting that picture?" Then, I'll shake my
head and swipe left. There may be an opportunity for a decent portrait photographer. These guys need someone (female) to look
at their profile pictures and just say, "No. Not that one."
I'm back
to my 1976 birth year. It's a little white lie. Some may say a lie is a lie. Which is true. However, I gave it some thought
and decided if some guy lied about his age, made it through my online parameters, and I swiped right for him, then, great.
I'm glad he did it because, obviously, I'm attracted to him and would talk to him at a bar. That's what this is all about.
Isn't it? Find someone you are attracted to and connect. Maybe you're attracted to someone's personality first. That's what
work and school relationships are for. Since I’m through school and everyone in my office is married, that isn't going
to work for me. Now, it's more about first visual impressions and spark. So, we'll see. My parameters are 5 years younger
to 5 years older. That's about the same age, I think. (Right???) My other friend lamenting
over a break-up is a cherished high school friend. Her situation is a little different, she's going through a divorce. Currently,
it's a separation but, she feels strongly that her husband is done. He cheated on her. I think he's a d-bag. My God, I can't
even begin to tell you how much I hate him for putting her through the hurt and pain she's been through the last year. I married
them, which pisses me off even more. Clearly, he wasn't listening to my sermon about love, understanding, and forever. When
she told me, I immediately felt like punching him in the face but, since we were separated by 3,000 miles, I suggested she
encourage her cats to pee on his clothes. That didn't happen. We're both too nice, I may not have done it either. I would
have punched him in the face, though. (As you know, I'm taking boxing classes. With the gloves. Mine are pink.) Anyway,
I could go on about the saga. You get the point. It's heartbreaking. She sent me an email a few days ago telling me how sad
she's been feeling because it seems to be at the point of no return. My first thought was, "You're whole. You don't need
him." He brought her all this sadness for the last year. She's now having so much fun working as an extra in Hollywood.
(She lives in LA.) She's making all kinds of new, fun friends AND she's beautiful! Inside and out. Of course, she's still
sad about the situation. She was with him for 10 years. I'd imagine it feels like a piece of your heart goes missing. (Or,
wanders off with some little tramp.) Can I just tell you? It really bums me out that there's this
sense that we need someone else to feel whole. We are whole. We don't need anyone else to complete us. (Damn you, Jerry Maguire!)
There is always opportunity for growth and I love to be with someone who challenges me to be better. I'm looking for someone
else who wants to share their whole with mine but, together, we make each other better. Is Tinder the right path? We'll see.
Wed, September 2, 2015 | link
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