Friday, August 15, 2008
Adventures in Chicken Showing
It's Fair Week up in good old Kenosha County, WI. To commemorate this grand old Kenosha County tradition, I have decided to share with you a story about one of my 4-H projects.
I remember the first time I showed a chicken - she was a Barred Rock
Pullet. I didn't know what I was doing - I didn't even know the darned
thing needed a bath until someone called and asked if I bathed my
chicken? I was like, WTF?? How do you do that???
Oh, you should see how I bathed that chicken. Again, I didn't know what I was doing. And I was like 13 at at the time and my mom was raised in the city. And I my club didn't have a poultry leader. So, I filled up a pickle bucket with Nexxus shampoo and water, grabbed Pellet the Pullet by her feet, and dunked her in and out of the water(while making sure not to submerge her head). Anyway, I wanted that chicken to be squeaky clean, so I ended up pouring the shampoo on her feathers and rubbing it in REALLY GOOD. Right down to the skin.
So, now I had to get all that nasty soap off. I wanted to take her to the kitchen sink and use the sprayer but my mom said, "ABSOLUTELY NOT."
I went back to the drawing board and took her to the wash rack. I tried to adjust the sprayer so that the pressure wasn't too high, but ended up just removing the nozzle and running the water over the chicken. But the stinking soap would NOT come off!! I finally had to refill the pickle bucket with clean water and dunk the chicken again!! Like 10-20 times!! Poor baby. No wonder she behaved so well at the fair - she must have been traumatized!
I do stress that I never dunked her head! I don't think I ever did get all the soap off. Next, I took a toothbrush to her legs and brushed them clean with yet more shampoo. To be fair, she was a very clean chicken by show time! When I got to the show, a very kind poultry leader from another group helped me prepare the chicken for the class and all went well. And the darned thing got a 1st place/blue. I was grinning ear
to ear and my mother was just nodding her head, "You soooo do not
deserve that. You got lucky!" She was right.
Gosh, that was sooo much fun!!
Posted at 8/15/2008 7:57:48 am by Nibs
Monday, July 28, 2008
I work with a very promiscuous woman who has a reputation for sleeping with her coworkers. This evening, for example, my friend and I were able to count at LEAST 6 people with whom she's slept over the past few years. Her career definitely benefited by this to some degree.
Last summer she was engaged and was preparing for her wedding. She and he fiance fought every day, it seemed. She did get married in August, and her smile in all the photos was really fake. The one thing that resonated with me after asking her so many times why she was getting married when they fought all the time was that she said that she didn't need to work anymore - that he would take care of her. Niiiiice.
The odd thing is that she met him on Match, right around the same time that I had corresponded with him. I can't blame him for cutting me off and latching on to her as quickly as he did - she's a beautiful woman with the perfect body, an enchanting smile, and a sexuality that I'd be hard pressed to beat. So, he fell for her and they tied the knot.
By November she was already sleeping around with a coworker. This became public knowledge when the male involved opened his mouth and bragged about it. Sadly, he is also married and has a baby at home.
In the past few months, she stopped wearing her wedding ring, and through the grapevine I've been told that she and her husband are getting a divorce. She has not mentioned a word of this, however, she does flaunt her affair with the coworker and has started dressing to get attention (low cleavage v-necks, sundresses, etc...).
So, tonight I log into good old eHarm and guess who shows up as one of my matches? That's right - her soon-to-be ex-husband. How bizarre is that? It didn't take him long to get back on the horse - he created the profile on June 30th!
Oh, man, how I wish I could just get one date with this guy, pretend I have NO earthly idea who he is, and then tell him all about my nasty promiscuous coworker... It would be sooooo fun, wouldn't it?
Posted at 7/28/2008 9:25:31 pm by Nibs
Sunday, July 20, 2008
I remember the day it happened – it was 4/29/08. I
was running late for my very first tennis lesson and was stuck in traffic. In
an effort to reduce my travel time, I attempted to cut a corner by turning left
at an intersection with a “no left turn” sign. As soon as I
turned the corner, I noticed flashing lights behind me. Sadly, it wasn’t
paparazzi; rather, it was the APD. Worse yet, it was one of those
annoying CHiPS motorcycle coppers. And he’d also pulled over a
I figured I had two options as to I could handle this: play
dumb blonde or suck it up and admit my guilt. I sorted through my purse
to gather my license and other necessary identifications. “What
should I do?” I asked myself frantically. As the officer approached
me, he began to ask, “Ma’am, are you aware…” but I cut
him off before he could even finish. I stuck my arm out of the car,
driver’s license, Visa card, insurance card, and for whatever reason I
also had my health insurance card in my hand and I stated, “I know, I
know, I’m a dumbass. I turned left when the sign very clearly
indicates that there are no left turns. I’m totally guilty.
Do you take Visa?”
The officer started with a small chuckle, then burst out
into laughter, “Does it look like I take Visa?” he asked, as he
pointed to his motorcycle.
“Oh, I guess not, “ I replied, shrugging my
He was still laughing and trying to contain his amusement,
but he managed to tell me, “Well, I really appreciate your honesty. In
fact, because you were so honest, I’m going to do you a favor. Instead
of giving you a ticket for making that left hand turn, which would be 3 points
on your license, I’m going to give you a ticket for not wearing a
“But I’m wearing my seatbelt!” I
said. Obviously, I was confused by the officer’s kind gesture.
“Well, a seatbelt violation is only $15.00 and no
points. It will not be reported to insurance. The left turn against
the sign is 3 points and $175. Got it?”
“Got it,” I said and smiled coyly.
“See that white SUV behind you?” he asked. I
nodded. “Well, that driver tried to pull the old ‘I didn’t
see the sign’ story, so they’re getting the full points and fine.
See, the Atlanta
police aren’t so bad – we reward honesty!”
Wow. All I could think was, “Yeah, you reward
honestly with dishonesty!!” But I took his offer, thanked him for
his time, apologized for his error, and went on my merry little way.
I drove on to the tennis center, but my instructor had
forgotten about the lesson and blew me off. I guess things could have
been worse, but I was pretty pissed. I would have never cut that corner
had I not had a tennis lesson! Stupid tennis! But I did look awfully cute in my new tennis dress!
I noticed that my insurance premium went up from $151/month
to $216/month. I immediately freaked out – OMG, I never paid my $15
seatbelt violation. Could this be the reason? After some investigation,
I found there was no correlation. It was just a restructuring of the
insurance company. But it did make me think, “OMG, I never paid
that ticket.” I called the justice center and was told that I
missed my court date and there was a warrant in process for my arrest!!! Additionally,
my license had been submitted to the DMV for suspension. All over a $15
But I was also told that I could go to the Justice center,
pay a fine, and try to stop the process. Doing so would keep my record
So I went to the justice center on Tuesday morning, paid my
$15 fine PLUS a $100 court fine for missing my session, plus a past due parking
ticket, and was given a paper to take to the DMV to withdraw the suspension. “Do
I have to go to the DMV, or can I mail it?” I asked the
clerk. He looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and advised, “Honey, you
better trot your pretty self down to the DMV and submit this before it in
I got the message.
So, I drove to the DMV, waited MAYBE 5 minutes, was called to
a clerk, and submitted my paper. She looked at it, typed a few things in
the computer, then smiled and said, “You’re not suspended.”
That’s it? All this drama so she can type a few
things and change a code?
Oh, well. At least I was a clean driver again. So, I called State Farm and they have the same coverage for only $88.00/month!!
I had to go to Northside Hospital for yet another lovely test, and I was somewhat preoccupied about it. I mean, I still don't know what's wrong with me, and I'm tired of being poked/prodded/scanned/radiated.
While pulling in the dark parking garage, I smacked into the bumper on the car to my right, damaging both their bumper, my bumper, and my passenger side rear fender. Shit.
And I just started bawling. I mean, I was already upset about being at the stupid hospital. If I wasn't sick, I wouldn't be in this shitty spot in the first place.
So much for my $88.00/month insurance coverage! Maybe they should just take my license away!
Total unexpected car expenses this month: $600 tires, $1000 brakes, $750 CV boot covers, $135 seat belt/parking/court fine, and the $500 deductible for smacking some random car in the parking lot. This SUCKS!!!
Posted at 7/20/2008 5:24:51 pm by Nibs
Monday, July 07, 2008
Goodbye match.com - til we meet again
I'm sure i'll probably be sucked back to the mothership of online dating, scratch.com, but for now it's sayonara sickos. No more winks from 59 year old el camino drivers.
I think it's getting worse- my good attitude towards dating lasted only 3 days or so before I realized why I hate online dating. All the old pervs!
I've still got a week on my subscription but I officially cancelled the membership today.... when asked, "What can we do to make finding love easier?" I replied,
Love does not equal dates. I realize you have to work with "love" as a marketing tool, but it's pretty funny to equate love with chatting to people online.
Also, you should be able to block certain users from seeing your profile. Not only individual users but entire towns.
Posted at 7/7/2008 2:25:29 pm by gak
Friday, June 20, 2008
So it's Day Whatever of my newfound attempt at DATING again, aka being on stupid match.com.
I haven't logged in. I haven't emailed anyone back. A beam of light descended from the internet heavens and I remembered why match wasn't for me in the first place. I would so much rather hang out at www.etsy.com to wonder at the universe of handmade goodness. SO TALENTED! I would rather buy my favorite perfume (Hanae Mori) from www.fragrancenet.com, I would rather laugh at www.fark.com and get my fashion inspirado from www.thesartorialist.com.
When I'm reading my messages at match I cringe at the profiles and the horrible emails I've been receiving. Spelling errors, I don't even care about (remember Beer Guy? couldn't spell his name if he was on round one of the Scripps spelling bee) I cringe but I also wish everyone the best. The more love there is in the world, the better the world is! It's only natural to want to find a life partner, so there! My life is still good without a husband but it's the order of things to want to seek a mate. Children aren't for everyone and that's ok, but I desire to be a mother more than I desire to be the best software trainer I can be.
The hilarious part is that after 2 days of not logging-in the emails stopped. It's like everyone is so desperate for immediate gratification that if your profile shows something other than "Active Within 24 hours" or "Online Now" the people don't even bother. Even the loser-riddled 'winks' have ceased.
In one way, Hooray!~ In another way, I can't help but take this as a sign that online matery just isn't my cup of tea.
So sigh, blah blah, here I am on a Friday night watering my geraniums and begonias, daisies (my fave) and reading on my back porch while my kitties play in the grass.
It's the summer solstice and it's a great day, things are good and life is beautiful.
Posted at 6/20/2008 7:17:55 pm by gak
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
completely lost my tolerance of fat people. Seriously. I am sick of
the excuses that overweight people make. I am sick of the "oh woe is
me" attitude. I am sick of the laziness. If I can get off my butt
and run around in 90 degree weather while having a serious health
issue, than people who carry some extra poundage can get off their butts and at
least attempt to take a walk.
Take my friend CareBear. She's 60 pounds overweight (so she says -
frankly, I think she's full of cr@p and is more like 80, but that's neither
here nor there). CareBear will not get up in the morning and walk unless
I call her and pretty much beg her to get out of bed. I got news for you,
CareBear - I don't particularly enjoy walking with you when I could be running with
my dog, and I am not your mother. Plus, you NEVER shut up. You just
carry on and on and ON about how much you hate your job, your life, how much
your xBF wronged you. I don't even WANT to call you to get out
of bed because for me it's de-motivation. How am I supposed to get over a
breakup when you're still biatching about yours from December '06???
Get your own sorry arse up and out of bed and take yourself for a walk. I'm not here to beg you to walk, or coax you,
or convince you. I don't see anyone coaxing me out of bed. Oh, wait,
that's right - I don't NEED anyone to coax me out of bed. I have a little
something we call self -discipline. Funny how that works - it's the same
thing that keeps me from sitting in my condo with the air cranked to 68 degrees
while sitting on the couch like Jabba the Hut shoving brownies into my mouth while
watching Dancing with the Stars.
"I don't want to go out to dinner, " she says, "I'm not all cute
like you." You know what, you're right, CareBear dear. You're
a big girl. If I saw you in a pasture, I'd call you in with the other
cows for the morning milking session. Being spiteful isn't helping your
cause - it's just making you look like a jealous, miserable fat cow.
Muffin tops are not cute. Popover tops are even worse. Admit that
you are a substantially larger person that you were last summer and buy clothes
that fit. An no - fat people clothes are not cute, so that should be incentive
to get off your arse and lose some weight. I know I wouldn't want to wear
"How can you drive around in this heat with the top down?" she asked
me the other day. Well, CareBear dear, it's simple: 1. You get your
arse out in the heat and acclimate yourself. 2. You shed the fat from
your body and find that you can tolerate the heat.
classic: "I wish I could have my gallbladder removed so I could shed
weight and become a skinny biatch like you." WOMAN, yes, I am
skinny. I will give you that. But the only reason I am a BIATCH is because
you annoy the pi$$ out of me thinking that JUST because I had surgery that I've
lost weight. Never mind the morning runs, or the multiple tennis games per
week in the Georgia
heat, or the 3 hours I spend riding on Sundays (in the GA heat).
So she asks me to contact my xBF Jeff (bariatric surgeon) so she can get a Lap
Band. Jeff says she's not heavy enough and should make a lifestyle
change. CAN YOU BELIEVE THE BIATCH ACTUALLY TOLD ME SHE'D JUST GAIN THE
WEIGHT SO SHE COULD GET THE SURGERY???? There is no magic pill, no magic
surgery, no voodoo curse that can make you lose weight. Diet and
exercise. That's it.
NO GET OFF YOUR ARSE AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!!!
Posted at 6/18/2008 2:37:55 pm by Nibs
Friday, June 13, 2008
Some things are best written, but not sent. And that is where I find myself at this moment - with a page full of words that are best left to be just that - words on a page:
I spent yesterday trying to piece together my feelings and
understand what has been going on. And the only thing I can figure is that what
we had wasn’t love at all. And it
saddens me, but relieves me at the same time.
You must have known this during these entire 6 weeks. Perhaps you ended this because, on your end,
it was merely an infatuation, while on my end it was real, altruistic love? Infatuation dies after a few months, but love
lives on and on and on. And real,
honest-to-God, feel it from your head to your toes love DOES conquer all. All I ever asked for from this relationship
was love. And I honestly thought that
was what I had. But now, as the reality
sets in, I’m not so sure.
My love for you conquered my fears of falling in love – you meant
more to me than every ounce of pain from my past. I pitched my fear of committing because my
love for you was more powerful than my fear of being left behind or abandoned. That is love.
Being vulnerable in front of your partner – that is love. Sharing your feelings and thoughts, telling
your partner why you hurt – that is love.
Telling you about my mother and how much it hurt to lose her – that was
both love and trust. But you never told
me anything that bothered you, despite my asking. Was it that you didn’t trust me, or was it
that you just didn’t love me? These are
the things that pain me now. Not the end
of the relationship – I don’t even know if it was real anymore. And that is why I am so sad.
There are so many things that I know about you. You love Missoni and D&G. And any accent items for yourself or your
house in gold. “Lovesong” by The Cure
makes you cry every time you hear it, and the song Relax by Mika makes you
think. You love those goofy fantasy
novels and your favorite TV show is King of Hill. You love La Tavola, hate olives, and drink
Kir Royales. You love 80’s music and Dr.
Dre, when you hear Justin Timberlake you think about Cara. You love Italy so much that sometimes I
think you wish you were Italian. You’re
very picky about your olive oil and balsamic.
You dilute your POM juice. You prefer
Orange San Pelligrino to Orangina. You love
California. You collect frogs and have this whole “frog
prince” thing going. You want a
motorcycle but are torn between spending the money, the safety aspects, and the
midlife crisis thing. And if you get
one, it will most likely be Italian. And
you’ll probably go overboard and get the one that has the flag on it, too.
But you don’t really know much about me. You couldn’t even remember where we had our
first date. To me, it was unforgettable, but to you – I don’t even want to speculate
what it was or wasn’t to you.
What I do know is this.
I want love. Real, honest-to-God,
comes from deep inside-the-heart love.
The kind of love that overlooks my flaws. The kind of love that trusts me. Confides in me. Shares hopes and fears with me. The kind of love that grows and grows over
time – not the kind that hits a speedbump at the 6 month mark and runs
My heart is so big and I have so much to offer, and I want
to find love more than anything in this world, but it has to be real. I have to believe that the love is real. And I honestly don’t know if what we had was
real anymore. And that is why I’m so
disappointed. So crushed and hurt. And
that is why I needed to just go away.
Because you keep telling me you love me, but I don’t understand
Posted at 6/13/2008 11:49:06 am by Nibs
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Suck My Boobs
Sorry, Tourette's got me there. I'm just feeling so ornery! Lonely mammaries.
Yesterday was Day One of 30 days of Dating Again. That's right folks, I'm cultivating a positive attitude and going to try one month of match.com. Of course, this is Day Two and my chipper outlook hasn't failed me yet! I mean seriously try it this time. I want to have fun. I want to meet people I would normally not consider. I want to go out to dinner and laugh and not be falling down drunk.
So far I've received correspondence from a computer rocker and a 5 year old black man. The computer rocker has hair down to his butt which appears in need of a trimming. My goal: to go out with him and perhaps clean up the ends, followed by a deep conditioning treatment. The black man has bags under his eyes which are large enough to necessitate handles.
My long-term goal: To make back my $35 the match.com subscription cost me.
I'm going to go out with men I normally wouldn't. I'm going to broaden my horizons. I'm going to reformat my memory disk and possibly even date men whose last book read was _The DaVinci Code_.
I think Nibs is trying a similar experiment on eHARM. Let's roll the dice and see what happens! It might be the summer of Yahtzee.
Posted at 6/10/2008 8:56:14 am by gak
Monday, April 14, 2008
The First Date
Rarely is a first date a memorable experience for me. With the convenience of online dating and the ease of selection, most first encounters have been reduced to a quick coffee meeting at Starbuck's or an evening happy hour meetup for a drink or two. So I was completely thrown off my game when I was invited to the botanical garden for a Saturday afternoon stroll through the new orchid exhibit. As an added bonus, he suggested that dinner in the evening would be nice should there be a mutual interest.
Part 1 – Botanical Garden
The garden changed their entrance and I ended up running a little late due to the detour. In my hurried state, I made a gross navigational error while parking the car and slammed the front bumper up and over the parking curb. After cringing and uttering a worrisome, "Oh shit," I stepped out of the car, walked over to the bumper and bent down to my knees and checked it out. It had a few thick gouges, but nothing too terribly noticeable. I got up, shrugged my shoulders, flipped my hair and blew it off. What else was I supposed to do? The damage was done.
I briskly walked up to the garden entrance to meet up with my date. After sitting down on a bench at the entrance, I tried my best to look calm despite my recent parking debacle. However, deep down my stomach was doing these crazy flip flops – why was I such a nervous wreck? Was it the parking incident? Or was it the fact that I was on an honest-to-God real date instead of the usual coffee klatch interview?
And then I caught him out of the corner of my eye. At that moment it became absolutely clear to me why I was such a spastic mess. He was absolutely gorgeous! And for a moment I felt as though I stepped outside of my body and was assessing this situation from the sidelines, asking myself, "What on earth are you doing on this date? There isn't a handicap in the world that could put you on the same playing field as this guy. You are batting out of your league! Run!!!"
But I couldn't budge. I tried, but I was somehow momentarily glued to that bench – right up to the point where he was standing right in front of me. I'm sure he was wondering why I was being so rude by not getting up to greet him. I scurried up from the bench and gave him one of those awkward half hug greetings – enough for me to look over his shoulder and mouth "Oh my God," take a deep breath, and regain some kind of composure. "It's great to see you," I uttered. And into the botanical garden we went.
After about 15 minutes of strolling through the gardens, we entered the building that houses all of the tropical plants. We were chatting and strolling along when all of a sudden my heel became lodged between the cracks of a wooden bridge. I tried to just keep walking, figuring the force would just pull it out, but I was out of luck. I was stuck! And I remember feeling like such a helpless, clumsy moron as I frantically blurted out, "Um, my foot is stuck!"
Now, what happened next truly amazed me. My ever-so-dashing date leaned down, told me to put my hand on his shoulder to stabilize myself to keep from falling, and he gently dislodged my heel from the bridge.
I was in a momentary state of shock, mouth gaping wide open. Most guys would have made a comment about me being a klutz and would have watched me struggle, but not this guy. He unstuck my heel without uttering a word, and that was the end of it. And to think I'd always been told that chivalry was dead! As I stood there in wonderment, heart fluttering uncontrollably, I thought to myself, "Is this how Cinderella felt when the prince brought her back her lost shoe?" Because the moment was definitely like something out of a fairy tale. I mean, guys like this just didn't exist.
As luck would have it, there was a second bridge in the tropical garden. And, as I'm sure you've guessed, my stupid heel found its way into that crack, too. But he recognized it immediately, dutifully leaned over again and freed me from the bridge. Note to self: never wear heels to the Botanical Garden!
I decided that perhaps now was the perfect time to warn him that I'm a relatively clumsy person. Probably not the best thing to mention on a first date, but I figured by now it was abundantly clear. So I told him that I drove up over the curb when I parked the car. "I know," he said, "I was parked right next to you and saw you do it."
He saw me smack the curb. And he probably heard my, "Oh shit," since the top was down and I was kind of loud. Better yet, he saw me get out of the car, bend over and look at the bumper, get up, shrug it off, and worst of all FLIP MY HAIR and walk away. How freaking embarrassing. I'm sure I turned ten shades of red right then and there - I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
"Your bumper is fine – I wouldn't worry about it," he said. And he left it at that. I couldn't tell if he found my clumsiness to be annoying or charming at this point – it was impossible to get a read off of him.
We continued our stroll through the outdoor gardens, but the temperature was dropping and it was getting late. And we'd pretty much scoured every corner of the place. The thing is, I didn't want that date to end, but I didn't know if he felt the same way. I mean, I'd sort of made an idiot out of myself between the bridges and the whole parking incident.
He walked me to my car and we just stood there making small talk. The entire time I kept asking myself, "Is there going to be a Part 2 to this date, or does the buck stop here?" And after about 10 minutes of chit chatting, I couldn't wait anymore and I blurted out, "So, are you going to ask me to join you for dinner or not?" STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!!! What on earth was I doing? Why did I always have to cut to the chase? Give a guy a chance, crazy girl!
Honestly, he seemed a bit relieved. The thing is, I'd apparently psyched myself out so much that I'd been giving him the 'I'm not that interested" vibe, when the reality was that I could have stood there all afternoon and into the night gazing into his big blue eyes. And after we solidified our dinner plans, he leaned in and gave me the sweetest kiss. And I was hooked!
Part 2: Dinner
He called me as I was walking toward the restaurant. "Oh, I see you walking this way," he said. And as I looked up, there he was. 20 feet in front of me. Dressed head to toe in black (my favorite) and wearing a beautiful new Missoni coat that he'd just picked up on his trip back home. He looked completely stunning. I remember stopping for a second, jaw dropping slightly (God, I can make an idiot out of myself sometimes), and just looking at him from afar. Then, as though a brick had been chucked at the side of my head to bring me back to reality, I snapped back to it and continued walking toward him.
I greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a hug. God, did he smell good! And the butterflies started coming back to my stomach. "Oh, God, control yourself!" I told myself, thinking back to the number of times that a bad bout of verbal diarrhea had interfered with the success of a date. But the "dating gods" were on my side on this particular evening, and I was able to control myself and maintain my composure.
Our table wasn't ready, so we took a walk through the Highlands and spent a little time browsing through the little boutiques. That took some of the pressure off being seated immediately, and gave me a wonderful diversion – SHOPPING!!! I still had that nervous energy, but it was starting to subside and I could feel myself finally calming down a little. Thank God.
After about thirty minutes, we headed to the restaurant and were promptly seated in our booth. And there he was – right in front of me. And suddenly, I didn't feel as nervous anymore. His eyes sparkled in the dim lights of the restaurant as he told me about his recent visit home. He was interesting, intelligent, funny, and confident, and he had an incredible sense of style, was extremely attractive and sophisticated. I wanted to know anything and everything about this man – I was completely intrigued. And somehow I felt completely intoxicated even though I'd not yet ordered a drink.
Time flew by, and before I knew it we'd finished dessert and it was time to go. And while I wasn't really ready to bid him goodnight, I knew it had been a long day for him having just returned from Europe the day before. Fortunately, I'd parked on one of the neighborhood streets a few blocks away from the restaurant, which gave him the opportunity to walk me to my car.
After a few minutes of small talk came that moment of truth – the goodnight kiss - the moment that you both anticipate and fear at the same time. Would there be any chemistry? Or would it just be another disappointing kiss?
He leaned in toward me, and as our lips met I felt the most amazing sensation – I was enveloped by this incredible wave of euphoria. It was as though we were standing still and the earth was spinning wildly out of control around us. And that moment was absolutely amazing! And despite the passing cars and pedestrians, we stood outside that car on that dimly lit street for a good thirty minutes. And every kiss was more magical and ethereal than the first. And it became clear to me that this wasn't a dream. It wasn't a fairy tale, either. It was a reality. My reality.
But the true reality was that it was getting very late and like all good things, the date had to come to an end. I drove him back to the corner where his car was parked and he gave me one last kiss goodbye before stepping out of the car. God, it was so hard to let him go. I remember blowing him a kiss – he blew one right back to me – and I drove home.
On the drive home that night the air seemed fresher, the sky appeared to be clearer, and the stars shone brighter than they had in a long time. And I realized I was completely smitten.
Posted at 4/14/2008 5:45:37 pm by Nibs
Thursday, November 08, 2007
one last update for november for all 3 of you who care
My free time this month is severely constricted due to my participation in NaNoWriMo (nano-wry-mo) which basically means that i have 30 days to complete a 50,000 word novella. www.nanowrimo.org
so far i'm in 8 days and have only completed 5500 words, marking me severely behind the recommended word count. plus i have to travel 2 weeks this month, straining my resources in the harshest way.
my novel sucks, don't even ask what it's about, and i am wondering how authors can pen the tales of main characters that they don't even like. reading and criticizing is much more my game than authoring... but still i press on!!! i am going to win this fucking thing b/c it's about Quantity not Quality. i'll have december and january to re-write.
and yes, Big Time, i am single again and fucking don't ask me about it b/c i am super fucking heartbroken and totally bewildered about the whole deal and fighting stronger than ever to just get on with life and jump back on the proverbial horse and continue finding joy in living. i was so happy and i still have to be so... but without the light i found in Beer Guy.
the beer guy dumped me unceremoniously on july 15. we had spent so much time and so many laughs together and i still don't understand ANYTHING about it. the not knowing is rough.
he recently sent me the Meanest Email on Earth b/c i would occasionally email him. yeah, i'm tough but yeah, it hurts. but you know what/??? i've just dodged a bullet. instead of spending a long amount of time in a relationship going nowhere (he calls his ex of 10 years "my wife,") i've been set free by an immature manipulator who was brave enough to let me go so that he could spend some more time examining his wounds and dealing with his own issues. i miss him every day. the truth is that i still love him. he made me so happy and every day was a joy from march through june... but that's not enough to build a life on so he's gone... and i only cry occasionally-- like today at the salon. i haven't had my hair cut since May-- when we were still together-- and today my stylist asked me if i was still with Michael. she asked me this while shampooing my hair.
and i felt the goddamn tears rolling into my ears with my head over the bowl.
it was weird b/c she is the COOLEST and her b-day is Aug 27 (mine is Aug 28). her husband's b-day is April 30, (beer guy's was May 1). we used to comment how our signs just 'meshed' and Virgo and Taurus get along swimmingly.
so now we had to go over why the zodiac didn't work for me.
and i let her chop my hair shorter than it should be.
I'm considering going red.
i brave on, and i'll talk to you all in december. Andrew, Dirty Martini, Melly-- love ya.
Posted at 11/8/2007 5:49:53 pm by gak