Deep Thoughts from the Insomniac's Club

I am holding out on you, I know. I am holding off on eSmarmony Installment #3 for a reason. Mainly because of every time I write it, something happens where I can’t post it because it simply isn’t true anymore or I am proven wrong in my thought process, because you should know if you don’t, that what I write is pure truth on what happens to me and what I am thinking. There is a lot of stuff going on, and I just want to see how it pans out before I go all Dateless on you or them or him or it.

Today’s post may be a little reflective or ramble-some. Find it boring if you will, but it’s what I need to do right now.

Most times, I would be pissed if I didn’t get a returned phone call after a date, or if something kind of fizzled out by way of communicating after a date. But I realized something recently when I took some advice from myself and from the late Tupac. I just don’t care; I have no reason to at this point in the game, right? I mean, really why should I? I go out on one date and talk to someone for a week and I think I am entitled to daily calls and if you don’t ask me to go out the very next day then it’s over? No. And before you go all feminist on me, I just want to say that of course, I deserve someone who wants to spend every waking moment with me. I know all about the 'he’s just not that into you rules', and stuff. I know this, but I cannot expect that from everyone or immediately. Let’s be F'in realistic here.

I've realized I've grown up in that respect, because guess what? Aside from the date with the guy who brought the bee, I am not pissed at any of the others who stopped calling, didn’t request a second date, or have contacted me sporadically or started contacting me again weeks after our date. Because I have no reason to be mad at these people. What did they do to me? Nothing. They didn’t stand me up at the altar; they didn’t even stand me up for a date. And before the conversation I had tonight, I was not mad at all, and still am not. I was just kind of like WTF for a while. But because I am an honest person and so is this person, we were able to just be candid and say it. Remember this post? But then I realize people have shit going on. Life happens and we don’t want to involve someone we just met, rightfully so, and I have no reason to be mad about that. I certainly wouldn’t spill the drama or stress of my daily life with someone I just met. To this person's credit, even though we haven’t had the exciting conversations we'd had previous to our date and on our date, he has made an effort to contact me each day, no matter how brief. And with the candidness and honesty that we both openly possess, just seeing where the chips fall while stuff is going on is a decision we agreed on. So either way, can’t be mad. Can only just live and see what happens.

I don’t know why the sudden less 'hard ass' approach I am having to dating, but maybe that was my problem all along. I wrote many a dates off for mere things. Why? Because I don’t know what’s going on with their lives? Why do I need to be mad? It is NOT about me that they haven’t called, or maybe it is. I don’t know that, so why be pissed for no reason at all. It makes no difference in my daily life, so let’s just live. The hard ass approach is easy, too. It’s easy to write someone off you just met. Why? Because you have no emotional ties to that person. It’s not even worth it. What is not so hard ass is that I assume it’s about me. How selfish. I mean, yes, let’s be honest, it could be about me, and probably is most of the time, but it’s not always. Sometimes the person is having a shitter of a time with work, their dog ran away, and they are reflecting on their past experiences while relating to these life stressors and withdrawal. Wouldn’t you withdrawal? I sure as hell wouldn’t feel like chumming it up and pretending to be positive and happy while trying to get to know someone. Shit. That is harder work than just stepping back for a minute, a few weeks, or forever.

I probably spilled a little too much of things in this post, but it is what it is, and you can’t be mad at me right? You just read my post about not being mad, so stiffen up that upper lip and get over it. ;) Cheers.

eSmarmony--Installment #2 The Date and the Bee

eHarmony was going ok; I was trekking along with communications from several potential men. I say potential men, because you never know what you’re going to really get. The first one to get through the entire process so we could finally email each other real words was Chris. He lived near me, and seemed pretty cool, normal. So the exchanging of numbers happened after a few emails, and then the call. We talked on the phone I think 2 times before we decided to make plans to meet up. The phone conversations were pretty good. They lasted a long time, like hours, which I DONT do, so I was looking forward to meeting him. I realize a lot of things after the date that were clues to who he really was, but how would I know? I didn’t. This account is probably the worst date I've ever been on, and I have been on some doozies. Get ready and try to keep up.

A little background. On eHarmony, (er, smarmony), your profile consists of some things they pull from your personality profile, and a few things you can type in to tell the world. There is a question there that asks "What is something only your best friends would know about you?” My answer is "That I have an irrational fear of flying insects...but you'd know that if you were around me when something flew by". When me and Chris were having our conversation, he had asked me about it. I simply told him that I am extremely afraid of bees and wasps and the like. Not flies, but if one flies by and buzzes me, and I don’t know it’s a fly, the same uncontrollable run/arm flail combo and probably a shriek happens. It’s something I cannot control, and if I am--God help me--trapped in an enclosed space with a bee or wasp, I freak out. So, he asked and I told. He thought it was humorous as most people who do not have nor understand this fear do. He mentioned in the same conversation that in the fall, he wants to take me to the cider mill. Awesome, right? I haven’t been in many many years except for the haunted hayrides, so I was game. When I said that, he mentioned that it is swarming with bees and I'd hate it. Well, considering I'd only been to a cider mill at night in several years, I couldn’t remember bee swarms, but he's correct, I'd freak out. So he said again, he'd want to take me because he thought it would be funny. Ok, ha-ha, that was funny, but no, now I'm not going. /end conversation about that.

During our conversations, I had asked him if he played sports, and he mentioned he used to play ice hockey, but now only plays roller hockey because of an injury. The injury was that he was slammed so hard into the boards that his retina, or something, became detached and he had to have surgery and he is almost blind in that eye, and if it happens again, etc, he would go blind. Ok, hockey injury. No problem. Well, this got me thinking. After the conversation I went back to his profile and looked more deeply at the photographs. I am not the shallowest person in the world, but now that I looked harder, I think he has a google eye. Like, a lazy eye that looks in one direction while the other looks at you, and you have no idea where the person is actually looking. I'm freakin out, right. That is something I am really uncomfortable with. I don’t hate people for it, but it’s like..where do I look? What do I do? If I look in the direction of the other eye, does it make them feel bad? Do they know? Does it hurt? Well, I talked myself into the thought process that if he has a kick ass personality then it won’t matter, it really only looks like a drooped eye a little, and not full blown directionally challenged eye, and it is a cool sports injury. (I'm not shallow, but am a little bit at the same time, aren’t you? Come on.)

Fast forward to the date. We plan on meeting up at a local pub for some drinks. When I get there he is in his car in the lot waiting, and we get out and I say hello, etc. He really isn’t facing me, so I can’t see the eye, which of course is the first thing I am looking for, because I can’t help it. But I say Hi, and am my nice sweet self. I catch a glimpse of him give me/himself a "humph, yup, just what I thought" kind of look. I crinkled my brow for a moment, and moved on, let it go, because that couldn’t be possible. So, we find a seat in a booth in the corner, and here's how it went for 10 minutes.

Me: "So! How are you?"
Him: "Good". . . . . . .
Me: . . .
Me: "Why did you have to stay late at work?" (He worked in an attic all day and supposedly his co-worker did nothing)
Him: "Why do you have to bring up something that makes me upset"
Me: "oh, um, ok...I was just trying to make conversation because there is awkward silence"
Him: . . . . . . .
Me: "So....hmmm.....were you nervous to meet me?" (thinking that this might be why the sudden cat gotcho tongue thing is going on)
Him: "..um..no"
Me: "oh, ok, well I was, its normal when you meet someone for the first time" (Me thinking that because of the eye situation)
Us: . . . . .
Me: "Wow, its hot in here” waving my menu at my face"
Him: "no"

So, I will stop that convo, because if I have portrayed how uncomfortable this was, you’re probably hating my life for me right now. It was like that for seriously like 10 minutes, probably more. I almost kissed the waitress when she came over to take our order. And to answer the big question. Yes, he had the google eye. It wasn’t the most terrible google eye, but it was one, and it could have been dealt with, if the rest of this date didn’t happen and it had gotten better instead of waaaaay worse than what you've already experienced. Moving on.

There was a two person high top table next to our booth with two women who looked like they were in their 30's were sitting. See, I wouldn’t notice that except he brought them up several times in our "conversation/date". The first was "That blond looks like a bitch". I looked around like 'who??' (table next to us). He said something like they look like they are divorced and looked older than he thought. Awesome, because I care about the women next to us. They probably were creeped out because he kept looking at the TV above them (wings game) and because obviously he was staring at them, but maybe they couldn’t tell because of the eye situation going on. Anyhow, we finally get into some sort of 'conversation' which led him back to asking me more about my fears. So I'm scared of bees, and we went through that again. He brought up the cider mill for like the thousandth time. I finally said to him "Why would you want to take me somewhere where I’d have an anxiety attack? I don’t think that would be fun or funny, so why on earth would you want to take me there?" His answer was simply "because I'd laugh really hard and find it so funny". Awesome. This is going well. I couldn’t escape because when I went to the bathroom, it was right in his eye shot, and he was ,like, watching whenever I’d come back, and he'd even see if I asked the waitress to let me out the back door. I don’t know why I didn’t just say "ok, bye" and leave, but I endured through hell and back, and lived to tell about it. After the bees, we covered my fear of sharks, water, seaweed, roller coasters, and heights. I mean, this was lengthily. When I asked his, he had no fears. At all. Oh, poisonous snakes, he guesses. Oh really? I'm pretty sure everyone is afraid of those except the Crocodile Hunter (RIP). I didn’t quite realize his unhealthy obsession/satisfaction in my fears. He got off on them, and this my friends, was the most interesting thing about me to him. He didn’t care about what I did for a living, he didn’t care about my family, he didn’t care about my interests, he cared and loved talking about my fears. What is that when you get off by playing on someone’s fears? Sadist? That could be a total exaggeration, but the closest comparison I can think of.

At this point I was getting pissed. Besides that we talked about his job (of course, not mine because he didn’t ask or even talk really) and how mean he is to his customers that he does house calls for. If he were my electrician, that came to my house, and called me stupid to my face, I would slap him across his face so hard his other eye would turn google, and call his boss so fast and refuse to pay.
Now, I just sat there.
Me: "Sooooo..............."
Him: . . . . .
Me: staring
Him: "Why don’t you ask me some questions?"
Me: "Why do I need to ask you questions? Why can’t we just have a conversation?"
Him: . . . . .
Me: (looking around, find golf on TV) unenthused--"do you play golf?"
Him: "Why would you ask me that?"
Me: roll eyes "uhhh, because you wanted me to ask you questions and it’s on TV"
Him: --boring answer of sorts then silence
Me: "Who’s your best friend?"
Him: "Joe"
Me: silence, as to continue
Him: "what? you want his whole life story?"
Me: "at this point, yes, I do"
Him:. . . .
Me: rolling my hands as to express, let’s get it going "how old? how did you meet?"
Him: blah blah blah
Me:

oh forget the rest of that convo, you can see how it went.

Moving on...and no, I'm not even done. you think it’s bad now?
I go to the bathroom for like the 10th time. Mind you, I actually had pee'd every time, but also texted people like mad as well. When I come back, he has a 'look' on his face.
Me: with my blank stare, "what?"
Him: "I shouldn’t tell you"
Me: "ok"
Him: "no, really I shouldn’t"
Me: "ok, what, did that bitch blond do something else?" (remember every time I came back from the restroom, something new was going on with these women)
Him: "oh ok, I'll tell you. I killed a bee. I struggled a little, but I killed it."
Me: "Excuse me?"
Him: "I killed a bee."
Me: "No you didn’t. There is no bee in here." (Tt was cold outside and no bees yet, plus, I'd know if there was a bee around us ever...because..I just know.)
Him: stare. "Yes there was."
Me: "No there wasn’t. I'd know if there was an F'in bee in here."
Him: looking at the folded specials menu that is in the middle of the table like something is wrong with it
Me: "Oh really? what are you saying? The bee is under that paper?" (paper was not crinkled at all, nicely folded in half)
Him: "yup"
Me: "It's not a bee, it’s probably a fly, and if in fact there truly is a bee under that paper, why the hell would you leave it in the middle of the table and not brush it off onto the floor so I wouldn’t see it?"
Him: Shrugs and takes away the paper.
Me: Leaning in to look. aT. tHE. DEAD BEE!!!!!!!!!! "OH MY GOD ITS A BEE GET IT AWAY" is my uncontrollable reaction in shriek form.
Him: Looking very satisfied with himself, swishes it off the table, and laughs, and says very calmly "I think everyone heard that. Huh, that was funny."

Ok, are you thinking what I am thinking? Mother F-er. He totally brought that bee. How do I know? Because from the depth and bowels of my gut I know he did. He was OBSESSED with my fear, kept bringing up how funny it would be. He also, if you remember reading, he worked in an attic all day. We all know that there are dead bees on the floors of attics or window sills. Plus, a struggle? Give me a damn break. I was in shock. I was just staring. This is why I didn’t immediately get up and leave, or rather; poke him in his crazy eye, and leave-- Because he got up before me and said this:

Him: "I'll be right back; I have to go to my car"
Me: Thinking.. please leave, I don’t care, I'll pay for your beers "ok"
Him: "Here, I will leave my coat so you know I am not leaving. I just have to go to my car and do some drugs"
Me: Blank stare and also thinking.. damn, LEAVE! And I can’t because you’re parked next to me. "ok, why are you really going to your car?"
Him: "Drugs"
Me: "Yea, ok"
Him: "Oooh, no, I didn’t tell you, but I'm diabetic"
Me: "Ok. sSo insulin. Go"
He went. I was praying he didn’t come back, but also fearful to go out there by myself to find the nutcase waiting for me with a beehive or an insulin needle or something.

Oh, goodie, here he comes. Back to the table.
Waitress enters scene, get our bill please. Yes! She's getting it.

Him: "You don’t seem upset that I'm diabetic."
Me: "No, why would I care?" (Mind you, I am talking in the most monotone bored voice I could probably ever possibly have.(
Him: "Most girls do."
Me: "I can’t see why on earth they would." thinking, oh ya right, like those girls you told me about who stalked you? Mmm hmmm
Him: "Yea, there were cops in the lot and they told me I couldn’t have needles out there."
Me: “Why would you be out of your car doing that? And oh really? There was a cop in a bar parking lot? Last I checked unless they were called, that’s entrapment, but whatever. He leave you alone after you told him it was insulin?"
Him: "Well not exactly, someone was walking drunk to their car, so he went after them"
Me: "Mmhmm, right. Where’s the bill?"
Him: "So, are you afraid of needles too?"
Me: Here we go again. "Nope, not at all."
Him: "Really? So, I could poke you with my needles?"
Me: "Ummmmmmah! NO, I'd DIE, WTF???!!!!"
Him: "No, with plain needles!"

Oh. MY. GOD.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our bill came, he freakin paid, and we got out of there. He was walking soooo slow in the parking lot. And I kept his pace, because I was NOT about to turn my back to this psychopath. I got in my car and sped the F out of there making well sure he hadn’t even started his car yet. This is my first eSmarmony date folks. This will go down in history as the most weird, horrible, hellish date EVER. Oh, this was only a snippet of weird. I didn’t even tell you how he kept telling me he wanted to get me drunk so that I couldn’t drive and we'd have to go watch Wolverine at the movies. Oh ya. This was a total gem. This is why I waited so long to tell you my story. I wanted to let that sleeping dog lie and not awaken any beast if they were to somehow find my ramblings.

So, with this being installment #2 of my eSmarmony series, you may be able to understand better one of the reasons that I am not thrilled with my eSmarmony experience. I've had two other dates since this (with different people of course!) and they were normal uneventful dates, but this....this has scarred me. I mean, I even ran into a friend and her boyfriend, whom I’ve met once a year ago, on this night, and he told her (I find out later) that he was worried about me, because of the vibes this crazy mother F'er gave off to him.

Like I said, if he had a rockin personality, I could have looked pass the eye. But his personality sucks, he is mean, and he is a sadist, so the google eye is as creepy as he is. I think I'm scarred. I also believe now, that I am put on this earth to go on the most horrible of dates, and live to tell about them, nearly escaping death by insulin needle. Cripe.

eSmarmony--Installment #1

Here it is, the long awaited post for some. For others, this is a first you've gotten a whiff. This is going to be a series. The "eSmarmony" series, because a lot has happened to talk about.

About a month and a half ago or so, I joined eHarmony.com. I am not even going to link to them, because it’s not even worth it. You've seen the commercials with the people ever so in love; I don’t need to tell you what it is. If you live in a rock, it’s an online dating site...another one... but this one promises a different way to find you everlasting love, that is supposed to really work. I've kept this pretty secret because I've sworn off internet dating sites. I removed and deleted my profile from every single online dating service I'd ever used. Poof! I don’t exist. Phew. Gawd it was tiring, and irritating, and low quality. But...one day, Dr. Warren of eHarmony.com was on the TV telling me for the millionth time, that there is love for me out there. "Millions of users! Personality compatibility! Look at this couple in love!" I decided begrudgingly to give this one last shot. I'd never used eHarmony because it is REALLY expensive. So, my last shot entailed the rationalization that it’s more time consuming than the others, and its expensive, that must mean people on this site are serious about it.

So off I went typing and answering the questions in the personality profile. I took about 30 minutes and answered numerous questions about myself, about my likes and dislikes, and about what I want and don’t want in a man. After I was done, my info was regurgitated in the form of a personality profile. This profile was to be used to match me with people they feel I am compatible with. For the first few weeks, I had not joined just yet, and I was getting a TON of matches. Once I got my discount deal because they were just so desperate to have me, I joined. Then I went through all these matches. I deleted all of them from Canada. Yes, Canada. My search distance was set on 30 mile radius from my home, and well, Canada is in fact within 30 miles, but no thanks. If I can’t find love in this country, I have bigger problems than I think. I deleted all those without pictures. Sorry. This might seem shallow, but look here...If I am displaying my picture, you better display yours. Don’t give me that bull that you don’t have a camera. Guess what, almost all cell phones have a camera now, or one of your friends has ONE picture of you. Dig it out and put it up. And lastly, I deleted all of those who didn’t bother to write anything in their profiles. You can’t take the time, you don’t deserve mine. Well, this got rid of a little under half of them. Now the next task was going through the ones that didn’t get cut, and reading more, and seeing if they were in fact someone I could connect with. The list got a little smaller, but it was a decent size.

Since, I get 0 to 1 match per day instead of the 10 I was getting when I hadn’t yet paid. The ones I get are Canadians, no pictures, and not complete profile. It was suggested to me by eSmarmony customer service, I expand my search distance. OK, the next option is 60 miles. That is FAR, and I am not going any further than that. I am not about to go or make someone else drive 1 hour just to meet halfway to see if, in fact, the person is A. who they say they are, B. Shows up, and C. Not a nut job. Now I get more matches, in Sarnia, Canada as well as Windsor, in Flint, in Flushing, and in Port Huron. WAY far away from me. Whatever, I still look and read and see if it could be worth it.

The difference in eHarmony is that you cannot search through profiles. You must wait for eHarmony to send you matches that they pick for you based on the personality/psychological test/survey you take when you join. Now, as you will read in other installments, people can answer the questions in any way they want. There is no real truth to these unless the person answering is totally honest.

With all of that being said, this was a total waste of time and money for me. It is so time consuming for little benefit. I know, I know, "it takes time" blah blah blah. Yes, it does take a LOT of time to wait for the other person to answer AND send the 5 pre-determined questions with multiple choice answers that you sent them. Really? It takes you 3 weeks? Anyhow, I know I stand in my own way a lot of the time with my cynical attitude towards dating, but eHarmony has in fact validated my belief that online dating sites do. not. work. for me. The good thing about it is that I am open to it; I've put myself out there, and not sitting on my ass complaining about it. I've been on 3 dates. Three 1st dates, no second ones yet, nor do I want with any of them, but I went and was open. That’s more than I've given myself credit for, which was brought to my attention in an email from a friend today. I will just continue to wait to be the exception, not the rule. Just like the movies, or as similar as you can get with this being real life and all.

Next up: eSmarmony--Installment #2 The Date with the Bee

UNorg Chart

I hate unorganized events. I mean, really hate that. If you are going to have an event, it should be organized. Every T crossed and every I, dotted. I worked at a "Quote--Unquote" women’s trade show last night at a local bar. They do this thing like every 6 months, where they have vendors set up, drink specials for ladies and drawings for free stuff from the vendors. The sign hanging from the ceiling saying "Ladies Night, Ladies Only" was handmade with markers and what looked like a plastic table cloth. The flyer advertized 'roving appetizers' which I believe to mean, strolling apps...there were none. They did advertise the chocolate fountain, which was there. They put two jewelry dealers in the same small room, instead of splitting them up in the separate rooms. And I think I got roped into doing a pampered chef party while visiting the other vendors.

So, the dance studio asked me to work it. I was available, so I did because I am in desperate need of students at this point. We are also doing an entire weekend of free classes to raise money for MDA, and it’s a good cause, so I wanted to spread the word about that. So, I get there, I find my table, set up my stuff and wait. It’s not anyone’s fault that no one hardly came to this event. Oh wait, I totally take that back. It’s the bars fault for not advertising correctly, and having their sh*t together. So I sit through 4 hours of nothing and am ready to leave. Well, back up. First I am told I will be teaching a short lesson, however, NO ONE who works there can tell me what time this lesson is happening and where in the bar this is happening. The DJ is announcing this a few times, so I go ask him. He says, "I have no idea". UMMM? OK? So I say, "Where is this lesson happening? Are you moving those tables right there?" He looks at me and says "Um, I am not moving anything". I just stare at him like F off, and he points to someone to go talk to. So I talk to the owner(?) with a sour ass puss look on his face. He has no idea either, he points me to the woman selling purses who is the organizer of this lovely affair. Earlier she didn’t know either, so I go back to her. She isn’t really sure. 10-15 minus maybe, is her answer. Um ok. So now I am pissed I look at my friend who so graciously came up there to keep me company and we go sit back down. As I am looking around, I realize that there are no more 'ladies night' patrons here. I haven’t seen a 'customer' come through the 'trade show' area for some time now and looking around the bar, it’s all dudes who think dancing is 'gay' and like 5 chicks. UMmm, yea...no one here is going to want to take this lesson. So needleless to say, I told the chick running this thing, that we're not doing the lesson. There is no one here to take it, and the regular bar folk are not interested in taking a salsa lesson after listening to Ted Nugent and Guns N' Roses. I am not willing to look like an A-Hole for this. She agreed, and we went back to our post.

A few minutes later I notice the other vendors packing up, so I take that opportunity to pack up myself. I pull the car around to hoist the TV I have on the table out to the car. As I am carrying it through and out one door, my friend is trying to get around me to open the second door to get out to the parking lot. Mind you, a man came through the door, scooted to the side to let me through while my friend is trying to get to the door before I drop the TV on my 3 inch heeled toe. WTF. I say "NO, Maybe this MAN could open the door for us". I said it as snotty as you know I can, and that is when he realized he was a douche and opened the door after saying "ohhh?!" Yep. I'm surprised he didn’t try to trudge on by me nearly knocking me over. Oh ya, and the door guy? Conveniently walked away. Nice chivalry. I should just say nice 'everyday politeness' you people have.

I should mention that my waitress was very nice and personable. You wouldn’t think so considering they make the girls dress like this is a fancy nightclub in tight silk dresses and stuff, but she was adorable. There was a guy (boy?) who worked there as maybe a bar back or something, who was very very nice and wanted to make sure I talked to the correct people while hunting down the owner(?) and kept asking me if I found him and if I settled everything. Those two are the ones who probably should have run this thing. They were the smartest most 'customer service' friendly people there. I wish I had his name; I'd totally call and praise him.

So, really the moral of this story is...have your shit together when planning events, and open doors for people, not only women, you see with their hands full or with heavy objects like a normal polite person.

Maybe I am Paranoid, but....

Today started off really good. I got up, got things done, worked out (finally!) and went to work. At that point it went downhill. I didn’t want to go to work. Which is rare these days because I actually like my jobs, and like to go to them, but I have a really big feeling I will be in severe need of a vacation by midsummer. So, traffic was of course horrendous going to work, at 2 frickin 30 in the afternoon, and I started to get the "have to eat" headache at work while helping someone. So finally, I get to go home, and I pull into my spot and pop my trunk. I get out of my car and some idiot (man) talks to me from out of nowhere. I jump, say "Jesus!" and he said "do you need help" UMMMMMMAH. After I jumped he realized he scared the crap out of me, and apologized. I said "ok then, I’m fine" and he kept going on and on. "I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I was just trying to help" and I am all like, (and say) "ok, but byeeee! Get away" Even though he was sloooowly continuing to walk. So he continues to say "I just like to brighten every girl’s day and show them their beauty" OK freak. So at this moment, I accidentally, or maybe in involuntary defense mode, set off my panic button on my car. This in turn scares HIM and he says "omg, that is loud, is that you". I say "yep it is, it’s my panic button, so byeeeeeeeeeeeeeee". At this point, I grab the litter, walk quickly to my door, saying "OK! OK! OK!" as he continues to walk and talk (not by me). I feel a bit at ease, seeing my neighbor peeking out of his door wall at the commotion, and I get in and slam the door....safely.

What in the F!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You’d think I took a Hallucinogenic last night

What my dream consisted of last night:

To start, was with Vera and Ang. We were visiting Vera’s home town which for some reason was Kalamazoo or something. So, we were going somewhere there, and to get there, we had to kick paddle through a “no wake zone” kind of canal thing on pillows. You know, like boogie board kick paddling, but on pillows. Then every time I hit a small wave, I fell in. So, instead of getting out of the no wake zone and into the lake, we came to a sidewalk/neighborhood/walking area. Don’t ask me, I’m just regurgitating. So then we get onto the walk and I see a sign. High School 16 miles. So, I get really pissed asking Vera…”are we SERIOUSLY going to go to your old high school. This is so lame.” They were like “yea, um, we’re running/jogging there”. Oh awesome, because I do not run anywhere. Sooo, I snottily say “well, are you going to wait there for me since I will be miles behind both of you?” And I start to jog.

I am jogging down this 16 mile road of trees, shops, businesses, and such to get to this ‘dumb’ high school and left them behind. So meantime, every now and again there is a checkpoint or a resting stop for water, or Jon Lajoie merchandise. Apparently he is the feature or hometown hero of this town or is performing there and everyone is either excited or doesn’t care. I can’t be sure, but I know I’m pleasantly surprised because I stop to purchase my Jon Lajoie water at the first rest stop. So I keep jogging and I make it to the mile mark, which seems like the 5 mile mark, and go in the shop and purchase my Jon Lajoie Bicep coin holder. (?!). Yes, it wraps around your arm to hold coins. Like when you’re working out and you can strap your MP3 player on your arm, it was for coins. So, at this point I have to go back home for something, so I get in the car and drive home. Car? I thought I just kick paddled on a pillow, and ran to get there. But no, I went to my home which was some way different apartment that what is actually mine, and my mom and dad are there.

They have just decided to have a renewal of vows ceremony in 2 weeks. So, I panic and have to go to work, to tell my boss, and see who will cover for my shifts for that weekend. The kicker is, the store where I work, (it is supposed to be the store I work in real life), is creepy, has crazy haunting things happening there, and I hate going there (in my dream). Also the manager at the store, in my dream, is not my store manager, but the spa manager where I also work in real life. It was flip flopped. The store looked like an old funeral home. Open floor, windows all around with big heavy curtains darkening the store from the sun. The haunting was the part where the ghost or whatever would shut and open the curtains at its leisure, or slam the safe shut. It was frightening stuff, folks.

So then, in the midst of some unnecessary stress over my parent’s renewals, I had to deal with estranged family members and finding out I am related to the Kardashians. I found them working at a drycleaners down the road, and that we have all kinds of cousins we didn’t know existed. So there was a teary reunion. Mind you, I have no idea who these people were, since they weren’t the real Kardashian's.

I have no idea how this treat of a dream ended because I woke up in a sweat. Good god, where did all THAT come from??

Excuse me? MAAAAA'AAAAM??

I hate when people call me Ma'am. I mean, I hate it. I cringe, and actually swear at that person in my head. I was talking with a co-worker and somehow I mentioned that someone just called me Ma'am, and I hated the guts of the word. He was curious as to why because he says it all the time, and doesn’t think anything of it. I promptly schooled him. Women do not like to be called Ma'am. At least most of the women I've had this conversation with. Call them Miss. You will be loved. It will make them feel good, and not like an old biddy. I remember when I was in line at Blockbuster and the teenage boy running the register, said "Miss? I can help you over here." I blushed. I felt such happiness that this young man was polite, and that his parents taught him well. I was flattered. Maybe not all women feel this way, but I HATE being called Ma'am...and that is my side note on the word.

Matchmaker, Blogmaster, Make Me a Match!

I haven’t told you yet, but I am responsible for a wedding. This blog is responsible for a wedding. This dateless beauty is the reason two friends of mine are getting hitched. YEA! I am so excited! I was excited when they were dating! Now they are engaged, the date is set, the place is booked, and I got a save the date invite!

During the heyday of this blog, when I posted every day and I had interesting things to say, I received a comment from one schmen.com blog (linked to my home page). She had found my link through "This Fish Needs a Bicycle" blog, (which is linked to my home page), where I had left a comment for the writer of This Fish. Schmen read a few of my entries, and liked my stuff, and left the link to her blog along with comments. I read, and liked her stuff, and left comments. Comments turned to email and email led to what I like to call a 'Femme Date'. Me and this cyber blog stranger met at Gus O’Connor’s for dinner and some drinks because we thought we had a lot in common, and hey, fellow snarky bloggers unite, right!? We had a very nice Femme Date and talked for a while. She had specifically asked me about a male commenter/reader to her blog, who said he knew me, and found her link through my blog page. She said his first name, which, I never called him by, just the short version, and she told me his screen name. I told her he is a friend of mine and that I used to work with him, and that HNK (who couldn’t make the 'Femme Date' that night) was good friends with him. She asked a few questions, and mentioned nothing more. Come to find out a week later, give or take a couple days, that her 'reader' had asked her out on a date, and she was gathering info (I gathered. :) ) Apparently they had hit it off so well through comments on schmen.com that they were off on a blind date! I was like, whoa! So, of course, I snooped through her blog posts to see for myself. And low and behold, there it was. The comments back and forth in such a flirty fashion that would make any car lover blush (if you know them, you know what I'm saying). It was the cutest flirting by written word, ever.

Long story short, they became inseparable. I got to grow closer to my new blog buddy and they announced their engagement on February 14th! Just today, they announced the date of the celebration! The minute I received the notice, I plugged it into my calendar. I truly have to say that they are meant to be. I am confident that if they didn’t find each other through my measly blog, that they would have run into each other at the grocery store or through a fender bender on the corner while admiring each other’s car. They deserve the happiness they bring each other and the differences between them that make them better people. I am so happy for you both, and I cannot wait to help celebrate your love!

So, my blog has created one love match. I still am so in awe by this.
I have about a 100% success rate. Maybe I should take over eHarmony, or start my own matchmaker show. It could work!

Incident Report

I had recently sent out a request to friends asking for ideas to write about, since my life seems so utterly boring these days. Someone said to write about my customers. Truthfully, most of my customers who come in the store are great. There are a few wacky people, and who isn’t, and there are some who are horrible people.

So, I take her advice, and will write about a customer I had on Thursday. I might warn you, that this won’t be pretty because I really hope this guy gets the book thrown at him to the highest degree.

A man and wife with their 1 year old child came into the store. There were some bills and paperwork and he told me why he was there. From the get go, I knew what he was telling me was a lie, but I looked at the letter from corporate, the bill and began trying to understand why he was there. While I was looking down at my paperwork, the woman had set the baby on the chair in front of my computer. The man said something to make me look up, and the minute I did, he hauled off and smacked the baby across the face. I mean he slapped him like an adult would smack another adult. I honestly don’t know how I can put how I felt at that moment into words. I gasped extremely loud while my hand involuntarily went to my heart and my eyes were as wide with shock as they possibly could have been. I stared in disbelief for what seemed like a million years. When I looked at the mother and still without being able to speak, she just shyly looked down. I could not speak. I was seeing red. The baby did NOTHING. I mean didn’t even make a sound. WHY? Why did this man do this? I couldn’t ask, I couldn’t speak. When I looked back at this cowardly piece of shit, he continued to talk to me about his problem and why he was there, as if NOTHING had happened. He very obviously didn’t think he did ANYTHING wrong!

I was in shock, and didn’t know what to do. I got him out of the store as quickly as possible. I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t you say something to him? Why didn’t you tell him to leave? Why didn’t you smack him across the face or kick him in the balls? The fact is, I was on autopilot, and had no idea what I was doing or saying and truth be told; if you told ME this happened, and that you couldn’t say anything, I totally would say "if that were ME, I'd say___ fill in the blank" I would think I would too, but it didn’t happen, I couldn’t function and I had to make him leave the store as fast as possible. I have been struggling with this since. Why didn’t I tell him off? The point is, no one knows what they'd really do in this situation. But I did do something..

When he left, I immediately contacted a manager from another store in my market. My manager had the day off and I needed answers. What is our policy for this? What should I say? What do I have the 'right' to say? He was amazing, and got on this immediately. I spoke with the head of security and loss prevention for our market, and he found the incident on video camera. My co-worker who was working all the way at the other side of the store, and heard the slap down there, got his license plate number. See, we didn’t have HIS name, because he was in the store trying to close out his 'cousins' account. Can I tell you what the baby did to "deserve" this ghastly smack? The Loss Prevention manager while reviewing the tape told me. The baby touched his father’s belt. That’s it. That’s all. The baby cried for a millisecond like he was used to being smacked and if he continued to cry, he would get it again. I am horrified just writing this.

I talked more to the manager assisting me, because I was so upset, distraught, and horrified. He insisted that I did the right thing and that I handled myself appropriately and commendably. As I'm sure you gather the rest of my shift, I was a mess, and couldn’t wait to leave. On my way home MY manager called me. He read the email string that had been going back and forth with the other manager, security, and myself and wanted to make sure I was ok. Thank you for that. He as well, assured me I did everything right.

I can’t even put into words how I feel. You hear about these things, and you see them on TV and in the movies, but it’s so different when you see it in front of your face. I am terrified for this child. I am terrified for this woman. I am grateful for security cameras and that the LP manager was able to transfer the incident on a disk and will be handing this off to the proper authorities.

Hey, the Barn Door is Open...Made Ya Look!

I got to play an April Fool’s Day prank this year! Oh the joy it brought me. I love to play little jokes on people, and this was perfect. I worked in the store on April Fools Eve. Myself and my co-worker decided to get our manager good. The best part of the prank is to see the persons face. I didn’t work the next day, so I missed out on the shock and awe and confusion and awesomeness. Me and my co-worker were talking and texting all morning waiting for the call of laughter, but alas, it never came. I figured out that part of the revenge to us, was to not 'acknowledge' the prank. As fellow pranksters know, most of the gratification comes from the response and the shared laughter. I was denied this, but I still feel amazing, and snicker to myself whenever I look at the pictures. I know my day will come, and I am frightened of what revenge will be bestowed upon me. I'm sure I'll get it good, and to tell you the truth, I look forward to it. Baahahahahhaha.

The story in pictures below:

DATE: April 1, 2009
Place: The desk of Manager Jon

This is just the beginning












The Finished Product







AND.....Taped over the toilet