The whole relationship stuff is a puzzler that's for sure. Although I find #8 great in so many ways, I also know he's not right for me, and I am quite certain he feels the same. As a matter of fact I could be getting the brush off this very minute. We went out Sunday for dinner and that's all it was: dinner. No smoochin', no sex, nothing. He picked me up down in front of my building. We walked to dinner down the road, he walked me back and dumped me off in front of my building saying he had a super early morning meeting. Huh? It was a like a scene from Sex and the City. I was a bit baffled. We hadn't seen each other for over a week. I was sporting a very low cut top...to which he responded by saying at the restaurant the reason I was cold was that I wearing too little and should have on a sweater. WTF? He also gave me the rundown of his very busy schedule over the next MONTH. And I got the impression that I pretty much would not be seeing him until March, if ever again.
After my three flight climb up to my apt (yes it took that long to register in my thick skull) I wondered if his sudden busy life was code for "I don't want to see you anymore" and he was just being a chickenshit and not telling me that. I stewed over it for about 15 minutes and decided I just couldn't stew anymore. I needed to know for sure. So I dialed. He said that was not the case, he was truly busy and just felt bad because he was so busy. Apparently, in his past relationships it was the women who were too busy to spend time with him. Relationship? So he is still calling this thing we are doing, this thing I see as casual dating, as a relationship? I told him to just call when he could and he said he would. I haven't heard a peep since. Okay, so it was only Sunday, but he couldn't manage an email? The guy works in an office-in front of a computer-an email takes about 10 nanoseconds. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I could be getting 86ed. Thing is, even though I say he isn't my type or 'the one', I am enjoying dating the guy! I am (was) enjoying the great sex! I am not ready to pass him on yet. And furthermore, I don't want to be the dumpee AGAIN. I am forever the dumpee. Other than my ex-husband, I've always been the one dumped. I suppose that is one reason I married my husband in the first place. He was the first guy who didn't actually dump me. Que sera sera. Can't control how people feel. Will just carry on. Besides....I think he really is just busy :)
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Transitioning the Wrong Way
While I've been in this transitioning of lifestyle mode, seems my body has also been in a transitioning mode...and not in a positive way. My boobs have gone from a 32DD to a 34DDD. Is that even a size? Sounds like a made up size to me. Like they're afraid to tell you you're turning into fatty and need to move up to size E, cause that just sounds so scary. So they just added another D to the number...cause everyone thinks a D is the perfect size. My bingo arms have spread from my triceps all the way down to my wrists. And my love handles are now luggage straps! I weigh myself almost every day and notice slight fluctuations in weight, a couple of pounds up or down from day to day depending on water weight, of course. How can I expect anything different when I haven't done anything differently?
Okay enough is enough. I've been relying on walking to keep me in shape for far too long. My body just scoffs at my attempts. "What? You're going to climb up the top of Queen Anne hill again? Challenge me why dontcha?" It's definitely settled into my power walks, running for buses and walking miles because I just don't have other transportation. So after a few weeks...or maybe month (time flies) of missing yoga classes due to holiday socializing, pet sitting galore, I started back up at my favorite studio and it's been great. My friends also gave me wonderful gifts of yoga for Christmas (a great CD, DVD and lavender eye pillow) which I've been getting much use and enjoyment from.
On Sunday I went to a challenging body sculpting/cardio class at the health club down the street from my house. It'd been quite some time since I'd done a class like that. I can't even remember how long it'd been, that's how long it'd been. I used to be an avid gym goer, but once I went to Europe, that all stopped. No funds for joining gyms and clubs, so I relied on my walking. I went to this class, but felt a little out of my comfort zone. Maybe things had changed since my last visit-like my physical capabilities. As we were lining up outside the studio door waiting for the prior class to get finished, I noticed I was surrounded by 20 something year olds. Uh oh, this could be a mistake, my 44 (and a half) year old self was saying.
Once inside I discovered a whole new array of equipment. We set up our step benches (okay, these were the same- I was familiar with these), I noticed the other gals putting together something. What are we doing? I'm trying to keep up already! We are putting together barbells. Oh, right, choose your weights and put them on. What weight? How much should I start with? I look around at my compadres and follow suit. Gather the rest of the tools: bands, balls, dumb bells, mats, arrange them around the step bench and we're ready to go! The instructor, Natalia, from the Eastern Block, gave no mercy. We pumped, we stepped, we worked our hip flexors, glutes and every bit of ab we had, and then more glutes and more arms and more cardio stepping. It was a good old sweaty workout. Seeing my reflection in the mirror kept me going. How did I gain 10 friggin' pounds and think I actually looked okay? Somehow when standing in your mirror alone at home you can convince yourself that you actually look pretty good (okay so I'm slightly delusional). Then I stand next to a fit instructor who I'm pretty certain is my senior and looks fabulous and my self confidence is crushed into dust.
The workout felt great, I got through it somewhat respectably, and after talking to the youngin's I was glad to hear the 20 something year olds got their asses kicked just as well! I will definitely return, for my physical appearance as well as my health, of course!
Okay enough is enough. I've been relying on walking to keep me in shape for far too long. My body just scoffs at my attempts. "What? You're going to climb up the top of Queen Anne hill again? Challenge me why dontcha?" It's definitely settled into my power walks, running for buses and walking miles because I just don't have other transportation. So after a few weeks...or maybe month (time flies) of missing yoga classes due to holiday socializing, pet sitting galore, I started back up at my favorite studio and it's been great. My friends also gave me wonderful gifts of yoga for Christmas (a great CD, DVD and lavender eye pillow) which I've been getting much use and enjoyment from.
On Sunday I went to a challenging body sculpting/cardio class at the health club down the street from my house. It'd been quite some time since I'd done a class like that. I can't even remember how long it'd been, that's how long it'd been. I used to be an avid gym goer, but once I went to Europe, that all stopped. No funds for joining gyms and clubs, so I relied on my walking. I went to this class, but felt a little out of my comfort zone. Maybe things had changed since my last visit-like my physical capabilities. As we were lining up outside the studio door waiting for the prior class to get finished, I noticed I was surrounded by 20 something year olds. Uh oh, this could be a mistake, my 44 (and a half) year old self was saying.
Once inside I discovered a whole new array of equipment. We set up our step benches (okay, these were the same- I was familiar with these), I noticed the other gals putting together something. What are we doing? I'm trying to keep up already! We are putting together barbells. Oh, right, choose your weights and put them on. What weight? How much should I start with? I look around at my compadres and follow suit. Gather the rest of the tools: bands, balls, dumb bells, mats, arrange them around the step bench and we're ready to go! The instructor, Natalia, from the Eastern Block, gave no mercy. We pumped, we stepped, we worked our hip flexors, glutes and every bit of ab we had, and then more glutes and more arms and more cardio stepping. It was a good old sweaty workout. Seeing my reflection in the mirror kept me going. How did I gain 10 friggin' pounds and think I actually looked okay? Somehow when standing in your mirror alone at home you can convince yourself that you actually look pretty good (okay so I'm slightly delusional). Then I stand next to a fit instructor who I'm pretty certain is my senior and looks fabulous and my self confidence is crushed into dust.
The workout felt great, I got through it somewhat respectably, and after talking to the youngin's I was glad to hear the 20 something year olds got their asses kicked just as well! I will definitely return, for my physical appearance as well as my health, of course!
Saturday, January 26, 2008
When The House Is A Rockin'
I've reached the end of my patience rope. My upstairs neighbors have driven me completely mad with their nightly sex romps. I feel like a crabby old hag down here even complaining about this, but the noise in really unnerving. The squeaky bed springs, the headboard slamming into the walls, the moans and groans and gasps for breath. I'm often awaken from a deep sleep by the sounds of their sex. Last night, I lie in bed trying not to listen, but they are practically in the same room with me! My apartment building is old and the floors/ceilings/walls are paper thin. The commotion shakes the entire building....or at least my apartment. But I do wonder if anyone else is privy to this little sex party that goes on every night.
Now, I'm not annoyed that they are having sex...more than me...a LOT more than me. No, that's not my beef. Go at it, I say, have a ball. But do I have to attend this event every evening? For some reason this issue is particularly annoying for me. I wake up with my heart racing...and not in a good way. I don't really understand why I feel such angst. I'm by no means a prude. I can watch a sex scene in a juicy movie and find it more than entertaining. I can read a hot steamy scene in a novel and be completely enthralled. But hearing my neighbors I get so agitated, I want to march upstairs donning my pink fuzzy slippers, and bathrobe, my eye shades flipped up on top of my head and bang on their door. I realize how this would go over, however. Probably not exactly the way to be neighborly.
Last night their business was taking forever. The on-going huffing and puffing for over an hour...and no one was getting off! I was ready to go up there and hand over my favorite vibrator. "Here, get it over with will ya! Works like a charm."
Besides the continual noises of sex, these folks are just noisy in general. They walk heavily on the heels of their feet, it sounds as if they are constantly moving furniture, they slam closet doors and I can even hear the guy yawning! My prior neighbor was as quiet as a mouse. I didn't realize how lucky I'd been.
So what am I to do? I can't go on like this. It's just too disturbing. Apartment living is a challenge at best: shared spaces, laundry room protocol, dumpster and recycle bin rules. But add in noise...explicit sex noise at that...and it's enough to make you grind your teeth.
So here are my choice:
#1 Walk up in my most friendly way. Introduce myself and politely ask them to "shut the f#*k up!
#2 Leave a can of WD40 on their doorstep with a note. "Please use a bit of this next time you have one of your squeaky bed spring pillow fights."
#3 Leave a creatively crafted poem on their door:
Dear Folks in 402
I hear just what you do
Every night when the bed starts rockin'
and the headboard goes a knockin'
you keep me awake
for goodness sake
and I'm hopin' you'll
see my point of view!
ssshhhhh......
#4 Other.
All reasonable suggestions are welcomed.
Now, I'm not annoyed that they are having sex...more than me...a LOT more than me. No, that's not my beef. Go at it, I say, have a ball. But do I have to attend this event every evening? For some reason this issue is particularly annoying for me. I wake up with my heart racing...and not in a good way. I don't really understand why I feel such angst. I'm by no means a prude. I can watch a sex scene in a juicy movie and find it more than entertaining. I can read a hot steamy scene in a novel and be completely enthralled. But hearing my neighbors I get so agitated, I want to march upstairs donning my pink fuzzy slippers, and bathrobe, my eye shades flipped up on top of my head and bang on their door. I realize how this would go over, however. Probably not exactly the way to be neighborly.
Last night their business was taking forever. The on-going huffing and puffing for over an hour...and no one was getting off! I was ready to go up there and hand over my favorite vibrator. "Here, get it over with will ya! Works like a charm."
Besides the continual noises of sex, these folks are just noisy in general. They walk heavily on the heels of their feet, it sounds as if they are constantly moving furniture, they slam closet doors and I can even hear the guy yawning! My prior neighbor was as quiet as a mouse. I didn't realize how lucky I'd been.
So what am I to do? I can't go on like this. It's just too disturbing. Apartment living is a challenge at best: shared spaces, laundry room protocol, dumpster and recycle bin rules. But add in noise...explicit sex noise at that...and it's enough to make you grind your teeth.
So here are my choice:
#1 Walk up in my most friendly way. Introduce myself and politely ask them to "shut the f#*k up!
#2 Leave a can of WD40 on their doorstep with a note. "Please use a bit of this next time you have one of your squeaky bed spring pillow fights."
#3 Leave a creatively crafted poem on their door:
Dear Folks in 402
I hear just what you do
Every night when the bed starts rockin'
and the headboard goes a knockin'
you keep me awake
for goodness sake
and I'm hopin' you'll
see my point of view!
ssshhhhh......
#4 Other.
All reasonable suggestions are welcomed.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Transitioning into Reality
On the way home from a great day of skiing on Sunday, I was suddenly slapped in the face with the reality stick. I hate when that happens. It always seem to sting just a bit too much.
Numero Ocho and I were talking about work and money. Actually, he was talking about work and money since he works...a lot...and has money. He's got his main 40 hour a week regular job as a flight instructor at Boeing (yeah, 40 hours a week may be generous), his military reserves duty (you know those jobs where they stand guard two days a month and get paid oodles cause they are protecting our land blah blah blah), and he sells real estate on the side. He said he was finally making up for several years when he didn't make much money. I commented on how I needed to get on that program as well. Open Pandora's Box why don't I? He proceeded to lecture me on how "yes, my dear, I hate to say it, but you really do need to plan for the future. You can't count on someone else taking care of you." yadda yadda yadda. I am sure this mini-lecture stung because he's absolutely correct. However, I am working toward that end. I am trying to find the right job for me that will help me with my future financial needs. I just refuse to sell-out completely and take a job where I work like a dog, but it doesn't work for me.
Rather than being dropped off at my front door feeling exhilarated from a day of skiing with my sweetie, being out in nature and exercising, I felt kinda down. Empty. Yeah. What am I doing exactly? I've been talking about going back to grad school for some time now. Seems to be almost necessary in this day and age if a person wants to get ahead. I always felt my BA, my life and business experience should get me to my next level, but I'm not so sure anymore. Seems lately, I'm surrounded by people obtaining their masters and PhD's.
Having just read my friend's blog, I am also reminded that I have recently been feeling a bit like a slacker for not actually continuing my education. Part of that is the fact that we are in one of the most educated cities in America (if you ride the metro at all, this fact is often questionable) and everyone does seem to be enrolled in some school or professional study program of one kind or another. I always felt that was one way young people avoided the "real world" a bit longer. And I still think that to a point. But the fact remains that a BA seems pretty worthless these days.
I'm in my mid-forties, transitioning into my next field, have a very small nest egg that I'd like to make grow somehow and I would like to buy a home someday somewhere. The grad school issue poses the questions of what do I want to study? Where would the money come from? How would I continue to work and where? I've been thinking of a masters in TESOL for some time now. Teaching English abroad again does appeal to me and if I do that I'd like to go into it at a more advanced, career-like level. I'm also interested in cultural affairs, training and education. Unfortunately, although my current job is on the right track, I don't see there ever being an opportunity for me to actually do the training, traveling abroad and teaching. My boss is pretty narrow minded with regard to those of us who, as he puts it, just went to school to get a BA , get out and work the rest of our lives. To that I say "whatever." If I compare my life to his, I definitely choose mine even if I don't have the wall full of certificates and diplomas his sports.
So much for my live by the seat of my pants attitude. It's not like the issues of future finances, health care, and home ownership haven't been on my mind. They are things on my mind constantly. I'm just trying to deal with them in a way that will satisfy my bank book and my heart.
I think the other reason that 'reality stick slapping session' stung was the fact that #8 was making it very clear that he was not going to be the one who would be looking after me. Ummm...yeah, I never insinuated that or implied such a thing. As a matter of fact, I pay my fair share on every date unless he insists on paying...and then I end up paying for the next one. How could he even suggest such a thing about me? This is why dating has been a problem for me. Men are frightened of women who don't have high paying jobs with loads of benefits and 401k's. They are also frightened of women my age who don't have children assuming we are going to want them and are looking for a sperm. It's rough out there, ladies. Everyday seems to come with one challenge or another. Keeps me on my toes, but my toes are beginning to cramp!
Numero Ocho and I were talking about work and money. Actually, he was talking about work and money since he works...a lot...and has money. He's got his main 40 hour a week regular job as a flight instructor at Boeing (yeah, 40 hours a week may be generous), his military reserves duty (you know those jobs where they stand guard two days a month and get paid oodles cause they are protecting our land blah blah blah), and he sells real estate on the side. He said he was finally making up for several years when he didn't make much money. I commented on how I needed to get on that program as well. Open Pandora's Box why don't I? He proceeded to lecture me on how "yes, my dear, I hate to say it, but you really do need to plan for the future. You can't count on someone else taking care of you." yadda yadda yadda. I am sure this mini-lecture stung because he's absolutely correct. However, I am working toward that end. I am trying to find the right job for me that will help me with my future financial needs. I just refuse to sell-out completely and take a job where I work like a dog, but it doesn't work for me.
Rather than being dropped off at my front door feeling exhilarated from a day of skiing with my sweetie, being out in nature and exercising, I felt kinda down. Empty. Yeah. What am I doing exactly? I've been talking about going back to grad school for some time now. Seems to be almost necessary in this day and age if a person wants to get ahead. I always felt my BA, my life and business experience should get me to my next level, but I'm not so sure anymore. Seems lately, I'm surrounded by people obtaining their masters and PhD's.
Having just read my friend's blog, I am also reminded that I have recently been feeling a bit like a slacker for not actually continuing my education. Part of that is the fact that we are in one of the most educated cities in America (if you ride the metro at all, this fact is often questionable) and everyone does seem to be enrolled in some school or professional study program of one kind or another. I always felt that was one way young people avoided the "real world" a bit longer. And I still think that to a point. But the fact remains that a BA seems pretty worthless these days.
I'm in my mid-forties, transitioning into my next field, have a very small nest egg that I'd like to make grow somehow and I would like to buy a home someday somewhere. The grad school issue poses the questions of what do I want to study? Where would the money come from? How would I continue to work and where? I've been thinking of a masters in TESOL for some time now. Teaching English abroad again does appeal to me and if I do that I'd like to go into it at a more advanced, career-like level. I'm also interested in cultural affairs, training and education. Unfortunately, although my current job is on the right track, I don't see there ever being an opportunity for me to actually do the training, traveling abroad and teaching. My boss is pretty narrow minded with regard to those of us who, as he puts it, just went to school to get a BA , get out and work the rest of our lives. To that I say "whatever." If I compare my life to his, I definitely choose mine even if I don't have the wall full of certificates and diplomas his sports.
So much for my live by the seat of my pants attitude. It's not like the issues of future finances, health care, and home ownership haven't been on my mind. They are things on my mind constantly. I'm just trying to deal with them in a way that will satisfy my bank book and my heart.
I think the other reason that 'reality stick slapping session' stung was the fact that #8 was making it very clear that he was not going to be the one who would be looking after me. Ummm...yeah, I never insinuated that or implied such a thing. As a matter of fact, I pay my fair share on every date unless he insists on paying...and then I end up paying for the next one. How could he even suggest such a thing about me? This is why dating has been a problem for me. Men are frightened of women who don't have high paying jobs with loads of benefits and 401k's. They are also frightened of women my age who don't have children assuming we are going to want them and are looking for a sperm. It's rough out there, ladies. Everyday seems to come with one challenge or another. Keeps me on my toes, but my toes are beginning to cramp!
Monday, January 14, 2008
Feeling a Bit Sheepish
As I drone on incessantly about my whiny petty issues (I can't even call them problems, because they really aren't) regarding #8, dogs eating my underwear, and the ever unpredictable and complicated bus commutes around our fair city, I am suddenly slapped into reality by my wonderful and patient friends.
Last Saturday I had some girls over to reconnect after several years of not seeing each other all at once. Years ago we all worked together, all in our early 20's, ready to conquer the world. It was a great day of catching up, reminiscing, telling old stories and venting new 40 something frustrations that life has thrown our way. These women and their lives made me more aware of how silly some of my blogs must sound. One woman has a special needs child she and her husband adopted from China. Although they absolutely adore their daughter and are so happy with their choice, it's clear that the challenges this little gal has brought to my friend have been difficult at times. She is doing an amazing job raising her daughter and I salute her!
Another friend is very recently a widow. Her husband died suddenly of a massive heart attack in the night. No advanced warning. No signs. Her husband was the same age as me. My friend has been the most stoic rock trying to get through each day, each holiday, each mile-stone for the sake of their young son. Yes, I salute her!
The third woman at our little soiree is the mother of two teenage girls and wife of a trying husband of 20 years. She and her husband are going to counseling, trying to make their marriage stronger and more loving. It'd be easy for her to leave and I'm sure it's been a thought that's crossed her mind more than once over the last 20 years. But she is working at it to make life better for her and her family. I salute her!
My brother and sister-in-law, who I love, are going through a divorce. It's been very difficult for her as it wasn't how she wanted things to end. Through it all, she is doing her level best to be amicable and reasonable in order to keep some peace and sanity in her home and her heart. I, too, salute her!
More women I salute: My friend whose sister has been struggling with a brain tumor for several years now, my friend who has been treating for Hepititis C, and others who are jumping hurdles every day.
One thing that all these women have, as well as all the other women in my world who find themselves in one of life's twisted pickles, is their sense of humor! On Saturday the four of us laughed at old times. We laughed when our friend ranted openly about her little girl's annoying attachment to her daddy. We laughed at our other friend's stories of her impossible husband. And my sister-in-law calls me regularly and I hear her laugh as she reveals the latest ridiculous antic my brother has thrown at her.
As they say, if you don't laugh, you'll cry. Both are certainly good forms of release, but the laughter is a whole lot more fun!
Cheers to my women friends who help me keep my weird life in perspective!
Tomorrow, however, I'll be right back to my own rants about #8, pet nanny peeves, and other Wander Woman wonderments.
Last Saturday I had some girls over to reconnect after several years of not seeing each other all at once. Years ago we all worked together, all in our early 20's, ready to conquer the world. It was a great day of catching up, reminiscing, telling old stories and venting new 40 something frustrations that life has thrown our way. These women and their lives made me more aware of how silly some of my blogs must sound. One woman has a special needs child she and her husband adopted from China. Although they absolutely adore their daughter and are so happy with their choice, it's clear that the challenges this little gal has brought to my friend have been difficult at times. She is doing an amazing job raising her daughter and I salute her!
Another friend is very recently a widow. Her husband died suddenly of a massive heart attack in the night. No advanced warning. No signs. Her husband was the same age as me. My friend has been the most stoic rock trying to get through each day, each holiday, each mile-stone for the sake of their young son. Yes, I salute her!
The third woman at our little soiree is the mother of two teenage girls and wife of a trying husband of 20 years. She and her husband are going to counseling, trying to make their marriage stronger and more loving. It'd be easy for her to leave and I'm sure it's been a thought that's crossed her mind more than once over the last 20 years. But she is working at it to make life better for her and her family. I salute her!
My brother and sister-in-law, who I love, are going through a divorce. It's been very difficult for her as it wasn't how she wanted things to end. Through it all, she is doing her level best to be amicable and reasonable in order to keep some peace and sanity in her home and her heart. I, too, salute her!
More women I salute: My friend whose sister has been struggling with a brain tumor for several years now, my friend who has been treating for Hepititis C, and others who are jumping hurdles every day.
One thing that all these women have, as well as all the other women in my world who find themselves in one of life's twisted pickles, is their sense of humor! On Saturday the four of us laughed at old times. We laughed when our friend ranted openly about her little girl's annoying attachment to her daddy. We laughed at our other friend's stories of her impossible husband. And my sister-in-law calls me regularly and I hear her laugh as she reveals the latest ridiculous antic my brother has thrown at her.
As they say, if you don't laugh, you'll cry. Both are certainly good forms of release, but the laughter is a whole lot more fun!
Cheers to my women friends who help me keep my weird life in perspective!
Tomorrow, however, I'll be right back to my own rants about #8, pet nanny peeves, and other Wander Woman wonderments.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Always the Demanding Lion
Previously, I was aghast at being referred to as #8's "girlfriend" after only three dates. Remember my response? It went something like "Girlfriend? Girlfriend? How can I be a girlfriend after only three dates?" blah blah blah. A week ago Saturday, we were coming back from skiing and he got a call on his cell. Apparently, the friend asked him who he'd been skiing with and #8 replied "a girlfriend." What? "A" girlfriend. Now I'm suddenly demoted from "my girlfriend" to just "a" girlfriend? How many other girlfriends are there exactly? I'm having this frantic dialog in my head like some kind of insecure ... well...girlfriend. I could have easily given him the business and jokingly asked him about the 'a' girlfriend status, but I didn't. I realized I was being silly and let it go.
However, I am confused by this girlfriend status based on the amount of time we spend together. I am still only seeing this fella about once every 7-10 days ... or longer due to his fatherhood duties. It's the middle of January and I've only seen this guy once this month. Is that couple behavior? Not in my world. It's just occasional dating where I come from. He's had to cancel our plans three times in the past two weeks due to his ex-wife calling to request he either take their daughter a day earlier or keep her a day later. I certainly understand that the daughter will always come before the 'girlfriend' but it's starting to get on my nerves a bit. I'm not being treated as a girlfriend. I'm being treated as someone who is pretty much of no importance whatsoever. Makes it a bit tough to get too attached to this character. Getting to know each other is a slow process at this rate. I'm reminded of why I never date men with children living at home.
Clearly no one in his life seems to be aware of my existence. I'm like the secret mistress. He told me during our first date that he didn't introduce his daughter to women he dates until it's more serious. That is understandable and I agree with that MO 100%. However, she is 14 years old and she, in my opinion, is old enough to at least know her dad has a girlfriend. He could tell her the same thing, "I'd rather not introduce you until I know it's more serious." She's not a baby. She'll understand. It just seems that maybe if his people knew I existed, they might possibly be a bit more sensitive toward his time...think twice before asking him for additional custody days unnecessarily. And these requests do seem to be of the non-emergency type based on what I'm told. The other issue here is that of #8's responsibility. Is it so much to ask him to simply say "I have plans tonight, Ex-wife, can you make other arrangements?" Apparently, it is at this stage. It's a tough position right now. It's only been a couple of months. Early days and all. I like the going slowish idea, and I am a busy person with a life so don't want to be suffocated. However, I also wouldn't mind being able to make a plan with him and count on it happening. If I ever actually get him alone again, I will have a nice calm discussion about this Leo's needs over a glass of vino.
However, I am confused by this girlfriend status based on the amount of time we spend together. I am still only seeing this fella about once every 7-10 days ... or longer due to his fatherhood duties. It's the middle of January and I've only seen this guy once this month. Is that couple behavior? Not in my world. It's just occasional dating where I come from. He's had to cancel our plans three times in the past two weeks due to his ex-wife calling to request he either take their daughter a day earlier or keep her a day later. I certainly understand that the daughter will always come before the 'girlfriend' but it's starting to get on my nerves a bit. I'm not being treated as a girlfriend. I'm being treated as someone who is pretty much of no importance whatsoever. Makes it a bit tough to get too attached to this character. Getting to know each other is a slow process at this rate. I'm reminded of why I never date men with children living at home.
Clearly no one in his life seems to be aware of my existence. I'm like the secret mistress. He told me during our first date that he didn't introduce his daughter to women he dates until it's more serious. That is understandable and I agree with that MO 100%. However, she is 14 years old and she, in my opinion, is old enough to at least know her dad has a girlfriend. He could tell her the same thing, "I'd rather not introduce you until I know it's more serious." She's not a baby. She'll understand. It just seems that maybe if his people knew I existed, they might possibly be a bit more sensitive toward his time...think twice before asking him for additional custody days unnecessarily. And these requests do seem to be of the non-emergency type based on what I'm told. The other issue here is that of #8's responsibility. Is it so much to ask him to simply say "I have plans tonight, Ex-wife, can you make other arrangements?" Apparently, it is at this stage. It's a tough position right now. It's only been a couple of months. Early days and all. I like the going slowish idea, and I am a busy person with a life so don't want to be suffocated. However, I also wouldn't mind being able to make a plan with him and count on it happening. If I ever actually get him alone again, I will have a nice calm discussion about this Leo's needs over a glass of vino.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Happy Super New Year
As new year's resolutions go, I rarely make them. If I do, I forget what they were within a short time. Not that I fail to stick to them, or get lazy. I quite literally forget what I even said...or wrote down. If I do make a resolution, I attempt to be positive. You know, like "I will be a better friend" or "I will take time to volunteer." I don't bother promising to quit anything. "I'll quit being late to work and social appointments," "I'll quit being a pain in the @$$". Naaw. I know I won't quit anything, so better to try to just be better at something I already do a little bit at least. Gives you a fighting chance anyway. A head start.
This year, however, I am going to have to make a resolution. When I left for Europe five plus years ago, I was on a quest to simplify. And simplify I did. I lived out of a suitcase, I traveled light, I lived on cash only for the most part. Public transport, my own hooves, or 50cc moped were my main modes of transportation for three and a half years. I wore clothes out before discarding and replacing them. I had a small handful of friends in any given city I lived and my social life was meeting up for coffee or a drink between English lessons, going sight seeing and out dancing on the weekend. Life was definitely simple.
Upon my return to Seattle in March 2006, I've tried to maintain that simplified lifestyle. And it seems that the more I attempt to maintain it, the more out of control my life gets. I'm not sure how that happened. First of all, I am working several jobs that have me running all over town via a very poor public transit system and earning very little money in the process(Stress #1). If I do have use of a friend's car, I find myself driving around my neighborhood far too long looking for a place to park the beast (Stress #2). I have so much on my plate, I am perpetually late to everything which I think is beginning to drive my friends crazy (Stress #3). And I don't blame them. By the time I arrive I'm frazzled and have some drama to relay(Stress #4). I have the "I can't say no" disease (Stress #5). I have the hardest time saying no to people. "No, I can't get together anytime soon." "No, I can't watch your pet for two weeks." "No, I can't host a house guest." I actually want to do all of these things. I want to see my friends, meet for dinners, host out of towners, babysit animals. The problem is I just can't. And I need to accept that I really just can't. Besides all those wants, I want to workout regularly, I want to go to my yoga classes, I want to take a writing class and I want to have time to read...and nap. So when I say YES to everyone else's requests, I am saying no to all those other things I need as well. There are, unfortunately, only so many hours in a day and I need to be more selective....and balanced!
Besides realizing I must be driving my friends nuts with my frazzle puss life, I had an eye opening doctor visit last Monday. My blood pressure was alarmingly high! Like my 'head should be popping off' kind of high. What? I pride myself on being healthy as a horse. How could I have high blood pressure? I eat fairly healthfully. I walk every day even though I haven't been to yoga for a couple of weeks. I am not a total Fatty McAss. I don't smoke and drink only in moderation. What gives? What gives is family history of heart disease I'm sure. What gives is I'm 44 friggin' years old and shit is starting to happen. What gives is I really need to get back to that idea of simplification and learn to just say "NO" when necessary. Some people are great at juggling a thousand things and coming off looking calm and elegant in the process. I don't have that knack. I don't see a cape tied to my neck. I'm no super hero that's for certain. But I do plan to have a super more simple year!
This year, however, I am going to have to make a resolution. When I left for Europe five plus years ago, I was on a quest to simplify. And simplify I did. I lived out of a suitcase, I traveled light, I lived on cash only for the most part. Public transport, my own hooves, or 50cc moped were my main modes of transportation for three and a half years. I wore clothes out before discarding and replacing them. I had a small handful of friends in any given city I lived and my social life was meeting up for coffee or a drink between English lessons, going sight seeing and out dancing on the weekend. Life was definitely simple.
Upon my return to Seattle in March 2006, I've tried to maintain that simplified lifestyle. And it seems that the more I attempt to maintain it, the more out of control my life gets. I'm not sure how that happened. First of all, I am working several jobs that have me running all over town via a very poor public transit system and earning very little money in the process(Stress #1). If I do have use of a friend's car, I find myself driving around my neighborhood far too long looking for a place to park the beast (Stress #2). I have so much on my plate, I am perpetually late to everything which I think is beginning to drive my friends crazy (Stress #3). And I don't blame them. By the time I arrive I'm frazzled and have some drama to relay(Stress #4). I have the "I can't say no" disease (Stress #5). I have the hardest time saying no to people. "No, I can't get together anytime soon." "No, I can't watch your pet for two weeks." "No, I can't host a house guest." I actually want to do all of these things. I want to see my friends, meet for dinners, host out of towners, babysit animals. The problem is I just can't. And I need to accept that I really just can't. Besides all those wants, I want to workout regularly, I want to go to my yoga classes, I want to take a writing class and I want to have time to read...and nap. So when I say YES to everyone else's requests, I am saying no to all those other things I need as well. There are, unfortunately, only so many hours in a day and I need to be more selective....and balanced!
Besides realizing I must be driving my friends nuts with my frazzle puss life, I had an eye opening doctor visit last Monday. My blood pressure was alarmingly high! Like my 'head should be popping off' kind of high. What? I pride myself on being healthy as a horse. How could I have high blood pressure? I eat fairly healthfully. I walk every day even though I haven't been to yoga for a couple of weeks. I am not a total Fatty McAss. I don't smoke and drink only in moderation. What gives? What gives is family history of heart disease I'm sure. What gives is I'm 44 friggin' years old and shit is starting to happen. What gives is I really need to get back to that idea of simplification and learn to just say "NO" when necessary. Some people are great at juggling a thousand things and coming off looking calm and elegant in the process. I don't have that knack. I don't see a cape tied to my neck. I'm no super hero that's for certain. But I do plan to have a super more simple year!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)