Currently Chasing: Belief

I took my daughter to see the movie The Tooth Fairy this weekend. It was a good feel good movie about believing.

You see, a few weeks ago her tooth fell out. Right before we got ready to go to bed she said, "Oh wait, my tooth."

Well, I didn't have any cash on me. So I did what I've come to find out no parent ever does. I told her the TRUTH. I said, "It's time you know, the tooth fairy doesn't really exist. The tooth fairy is just me."

She said, "You have all my teeth?"

"Yes," I said.

"And you give me money?"

"Yes," I said.

"Are you still going to give me money?"

"Yes," I said.

"Okay then," she said. "The thought of a fairy slipping into the house was a little creepy anyway." And then she fell asleep.

A few days later we were driving in the car an playing the question game. She would ask me a question and then I would ask her one back.

So I asked, "If you could ask God any question, what would it be?

She said, "I'd ask him if he believes in the tooth fairy and Santa Claus."

I asked her why.

She said, "Well, it seems like no one believes in those guys simply because they can't see them. But no one can see God either. So I just wonder if he believes in things he can't see."

And there you go, the wisdom of an 8 year old. And then I take her to see this movie, the theme of which is about letting children imagine and believe, and put that together with the events of the past month and I'm a jaded, bitter adult with no imagination.

I mean, why shouldn't I believe in the tooth fairy? I believe in Love, and I've never actually seen that either.

Currently Chasing: A Bag Handler

Recently I flew with Southwest. It was a very pleasant experience. They have their own gate, their own baggage claim and their own economy friendly policy. One bag (weighing 50 pounds or less) can be checked for free. I like that policy. I’m adopting that policy.

The emotional and physical baggage that I am willing to accept at this point in my life will be limited to one free checked back and a carry on. And that carry-on better be able to fit in either the upper compartment or the area in front of your feet!

Before I can really put this policy into place, I had to assess the baggage currently taking up space in my own terminal. And so I did. I have two failed marriages in my checked bag. The first one (which lasted less than a year) managed to provide me with one extra bag to check (Bankruptcy.) Since then, I’ve been able to shed that bag, leaving me with just the word…marriage, but no actual accompanying baggage, in fact, barely a carry-on. My second marriage left me with a daughter. I will put her into my free checked bag. She’s magnificent, and you’re probably luckier to have her than me if you want to get technical about it.

Other than that I own my home, have a great job, really great friends, proud parents and a good credit score. However, I can’t cook. So that may have to go in the carry on. I also don’t always like putting laundry away. So add that as well. Still a manageable carry-on, as long as there is less than three ounces of liquid in there, I think we’re good. Although my eyeliner was once confiscated as both a liquid and a weapon.

And now I’m looking for a man who can assess himself. A man who knows how much his baggage weighs. Who understands that emotional baggage is the same as physical baggage. Who doesn’t have a problem taking things out of his bag immediately, if it’s over the weight limit. A man who will throw away a just-purchased bottle of water if it means boarding the flight faster. A man who travels light. And who knows when not to travel.

Someone man enough to carry my bags.

Currently (being) Chased: By the Guy at the Gym

*This blog is the fourth in a series of four blogs. Please start with the blog titled "Currently Chasing: A Bullshit Flag." *

So I've heard it's both good and bad to meet a guy at the gym. However, it's even worse when you don't meet someone, but the think they've met you and they start molesting you in the middle of your aerobics class. Let me explain.

As most of you know, I recently ended a much too long drawn out relationship. And I would use this opportunity to say a bunch of bad things about him, but the truth is, we will probably at some point end up back together and miserable..so why waste all my best "you'll never believe what he dids" in this blog. Besides, he's so vain, he probably thinks this blog is about him. Well it's not!

So, I got to the gym and I work out and all is well and I go to get my daughter out of the day care and she says "mom, I'm working on my craft project, give me 20 minutes." And I should just yank her out by her hair, but the ladies are watching so I say, "Honey pie, cuddle bug, I will come back in 20 minutes, but in the future just remember that I'M YOUR GOD DAMNED MOTHER AND sweetie you shuld also know that WHAT I SAY GOES but finish up your craft BEFORE I STOP FEEDING YOU FOREVER."

So I walk out and there are some guys sitting at the table. I know them from the aerobics class I attend. They ask me to sit down, so I do. One of them right away asks me if I have a boyfriend. I tell him it's complicated, which goes in one ear and out of the other. either you do or you don't, he says. I don't. So they keep talking and I'm watching the clock. Counting down. These guys are nice enough, but I'm not interested. then the same one from earlier starts asking me questions about my ex. Then he tells me he has something he wants to send to my phone and he asks for my number. I give it to him. No big deal. Twenty mnutes passes and I'm out of there.

Later I get a text. It says, "are you asleep?" I'm nt, but I just leave it anyway. Then I get a call. I don't answer. Then another text. In the morning I get another text that says, " can you receive texts?" Finally I just respond. Anyway, he proceeds t text me all damn day, and I barely respond. But it doesn't matter that I tell him a half a dozen times that I'm not interested. He continues to ask me out. I tell him I don't want to date. He says it doesn't have to be a date, we can just hang out. Bla. I don't respond.

The next day I see him at the gym and he acts like we are fucking married. He comes up, tells me how nice I am...how he enjoyed talking to me...? Then he says he has something to tell me, and I say what? And he starts acting like it's some big secret that he has and I'll have to basically beg if I want to hear it. Well I could car less so I just walk into the class.

Well everytime we get a little break he comes over to me and just touches me in some way. At one point he reached his arms around me from the back an then let his hand slide across mybelly. I was freaked out. Totally freaked out. So at the end of class I tried to make a Bline for the door...but he caught me and said, "What are you doing tonight?" I said, I'm going to a bad sweater party. He said, "Oh, I was going to take you and your daughter somewhere amazing but you'll just have to go another day, but don't wait too long."

Is this guy on crack or something? I mean, I guessI'm a nice person and my signs might be saying,I don't like you and I don't want anything to do with you, but you can continue to harass me because I'm too non con to do anything about it. tha is possible. But damn! How do you say fuck off, without never being able to attend aerobics class ever again? Can't a sister just do a lunge in peace?

Currently Chasing: A New Cell Phone Plan

So why do these stories just keep getting worse. I went to get my phone fixed today. I had the day off and there were just a bunch of things I needed to get done. So I walk in and this guys starts helping me. He's nice. And he's 34...which is good. Not that I'm hung up on the age thing, but this weekend I went out and got hit on twice by guys not even out of high school and the last date I went on was with a 24 year old that I met at Wawa.

So, he's in the right age group. However, he works at T-mobile. But fuck it, who cares right? It's just about having fun. so he asks me to go to lunch with him. I have no where else to be, so I say ok. We go to Subway. What's up with me and sandwich shops? At least it is not a damn gas station.

Anyway, in that 30 minutes it was clear to me why he was single. He was married. He cheated on his wife with a mutual friend who was also married. They both got divorced and got together. Things didn't work out and they broke up. He could not afford his house on his own so it was foreclosed on. He now lives with his mother. He has two children. His son has Autism and keeps getting kicked out of school. Because of this he has to leave work almost every day to get his son from school because the teachers don't know how to handle him. This has lead to his son being very behind in school. He's 10 and cannot read.

I asked hi if he has done any research on methods he could use to help his son. He said he's not really good at doing research. I'd get good. But anyway.

Then he saysthat because he keeps having to leave work, they are going to suspend him. which means they let him go for 20 days. So he's now worried about money for Christmas...because that is a month without a paycheck. Then he says he's looking for a serious girlfriend, but it's hard because girls hear his story and assume he is a loser and they don't care about the back story. Whih is not very impressive actually.

So as I am getting ready to leave he gives me his number and says...hey, call me. I've got nothing to do for the next 20 days. Wow.

Too bad I'm busy. Very busy. Extremely busy...changing my cell phone plan as soon as possible, and over the phone.

Currently Chasing: The Guy at the Gas Station

So I am at Wawa pumping gas and just kind of thinking about my relationship...or lack there of...and how I've never really had fun in my relationship anyway, so why even mourn the loss right? And then I see him...A fun guy. He walks out of Wawa and he is just kinda laughing with his friend. He looks fun. Not polished. But still cute. But not "I have to look in the mirror every fucking minute" cute. And he's wearing a Red Hot chili Pepper sweater...so there's that. And at that point I'm not sure if that's a pro or a con...but we make eye contact and it's on.

I guess I should point out that the day before I heard something on the radio about a couple meeting at a gas station...and it got me thinking. If they can do it, why can't I?

So I keep looking and keep pumping my gas...but still looking. and every time I look he is looking. So I get in my car and think, fuck it. I'm going to give him my number. So I do. He seems shocked. My friend says I've ruined him now. I've blown his head up. One day he'll be sitting around listening to people talk about how hard it is to meet women and he'll be like, dude, it's not hard. I was at the Wawa once and this beautiful girl just walked up and gave me her number. And that's the story of how I met your mother.

Whatever. I gave him the number. And he called. Three times. He kept asking to meet me out. But truth is, when I actually handed him the number I could tell he was a bit young. And listening to his language on the answering machine, he might be even younger than I thought. so I was kind of regretting giving him the number.

I was right. He was 24. I don't agree to meet him out that night, but I do agree to meet him out the next day. At Wawa. Yes, I agreed to meet him for a date at the same gs station where we met. It made sense at the time. I don't want to be somewhere with tables. that would mean I would have to sit down and make conversation. I didn't want to go to his house and I definitly didn't want him knowing where I live, so what were my options? A sandwich at Wawa.

Of course people gave me a hard time about this...like, it's ok to meet a guy at Wawa, but it's not ok to meet a guy at Wawa...again! But I stand by my choice.

so we meet up. It's ok. He bought me a sandwich. I know what you want to know. What kind? Turkeyon wheat. No cheese. We talk. He's young. Saving all his money to buy a new car kind of young. It was an experience. And I can say I took a chance. The funny thing is when we met back up he was wearing a shirt with the number 32 on it. Like I needed a reminder of the age difference.

Currently Chasing: A Bullshit Flag

So I've been reading a book called "How to Meet a Fabulous Man." I've made it to page three and I'm already calling bullshit.

First of all, chapter one is titled, How to Meet your Man. It starts off by saying "always look as GOOD as you can as OFTEN as you can. Really? That's your fucking advice? Do you think I walk around looking as horrible as I can as often as possible? Or as good as I can as seldom as possible? No bitch! I'm already looking as GOOD as I can as OFTEN as possible.

It goes on to say that I should never take a potential relationship for granted regardless of where I am. at the gas station, in the mall or at the gym. You can meet you potential husband anywhere. And then it gives m some fucking lame example of how some girl used to jog the same trail every day, but one day she up on lip gloss and BAM. The man of her dreams stopped her mid run and dropped down to his knees in a Gosh Darn love coma and fucking proposed to her sweaty ass.

I run in full done makeup and hair and that shit gets me nothing but a mixture of hairspray and foundation in my mouth, with a side order of running mascara.

But the real reason I don't think I should one more page of this book is because I've met all these men. The one at the gas station, the one at the mall and yes, even the one at the fucking gym. they weren't marriage material. They weren't even scrap material. The only thing they are material for is my damn blog.

The next three blogs are dedicated to you lady who wrote this stupid book. America's top matchmaker my ass. Where is your VH1 reality show?

Currently Chasing: An End to The Ex

I got a phone call the other day. I wasn’t sure of the number, so I let it go to voicemail. Turns out it was an ex boyfriend calling to find out how I was doing. I added him to my phone and quickly sent a text.

“I’m fine. Sorry I didn’t answer. New phone. Lost some numbers.”

He wrote back.

“No problem. Saw on facebook that you are single. True?”

And then I realized what was happening. We were getting back in touch.

There are really only two reasons you find yourself keeping in touch with an ex. Either you want to have sex with them again, or they want to have sex with you again. The simple fact is, if neither of you wants anything to do with the other, and there are no children involved…well adios. But if there are no children involved and you are still exchanging text messages, face book messages or instant messages ...there is only one explanation. Someone wants to make, yet another, bad decision.

Now, I have plenty of ex’s who I have no problem deleting from my phone and my life. (I wrote about one recently.) I say my goodbyes and I FINALLY move on. If they contact me, it’s because they hope we can have sex again. If I don’t delete them from my phone, it’s because I hope we can have sex again. It has nothing to do with just wanting to remain friends with someone who knows me well. I have cousins for that.

And once you contact me again, I may go ahead and add you back into my phone. Not because I ever plan on sleeping with you again, but mostly because now I like that I can call on you for a compliment when I’m feeling fat, lonely or (insert other self loathing word here.)

Now you are who I will call when I’ve just been dumped by so and so. And I’m not calling you because I want to sleep with you again, but because you will tell me exactly what I want and need to hear to rebuild my self esteem. And why will you tell me these glorious, incredible things? Because you want to sleep with me. Trust me, it’s most likely not going to happen.

So I'm saying there’s a chance!

Truth is I probably really don’t want much to do with you. But when you write and tell me you’re still in love, I’ll love how that makes me feel. And it will give me the strength to go out there and love someone else.

So the next time you consider contacting that ex, even if it’s just to ask how they are, ask yourself, are they going to recognize the number when it pops up on their phone. And don’t buy the new phone excuse. Truth is, if you’re important, they won’t lose you in the transition.

Currently Chasing: The Courage to Change the Things I Can

I don’t even know how to start this. Truth is, I’ve written this blog a hundred times.

I’ve fallen back into the very familiar pattern of doing what’s comfortable. Caring for people who are incapable of caring back. And then continuing to care what they think. Not any more.

Recently I had dinner with one of these ‘comfort players’ and it was the epitomy of a last supper, let me assure you.

Conversation was sparse, but it went something like this:

Judas: Hey, so I was playing Call of Duty online last night and chatting on the headset.

Me: (in my head): Big fucking deal.
Me: (words coming out of my mouth): Oh, of course I’m interested, please tell me more.

Judas: There was this girl complaining about people camping.

Me: (in my head): Big fucking deal.
Me (words coming out of my mouth): What is camping?

Judas: When someone finds a safe place to stay and then kills people from the safe place.

Me: Got it. Continue.

Judas: So I kill someone who I see camping and it’s her. So I send her an instant message and give her a hard time for complaining about campers. And she writes back and tells me that she’s new to the game so she’s allowed. But she ended up finishing second. Even above me. And then all these guys are requesting her as a friend. So I tell how pathetic is is that all these guys want to be her friend. Like she’s going to be their Xbox live girlfriend or something. And then she requests me as a friend. And I say, so does this mean you are my Xbox live girlfriend? And she types back. Lol. Then later she found me playing again and entered my room.

Me: ……………………………..

Judas: Is there something wrong?

Me:……………………………..

Judas: I can tell something’s wrong.

Me: ……………………………..

There is always some girl around that everyone ELSE is hitting on and whom he thinks is ugly, or lazy or just is overall not attracted to. But it always comes to light that while everyone ELSE is busy living thier lives, he's busy making the most of EVERY option he has. The last time he brought up a girl that he wanted nothing to do with there ended up being a full blown relationship in the works. I knew he was a Tiger fan, but come on.

So we continue to not speak for the rest of the meal. And the ride home. And we will continue like that for the rest of our lives. I hope his Xbox girlfriend is as good to him as his Xgirlfriend was. I should have known better. I thought one day he’d make an honest woman out of me. I didn’t realize he hadn’t yet made an honest man out of himself.

Currently Chasing: Ink Remover

Tattoos. They are pretty, they are colorful, they are addicting and they are … permanent. Well, unless you want to spend countless hours and plenty of money getting them removed. And by removing them you realize you basically have that skin burned off. Nothing says I don’t want to remember, like a burned area of flesh to stare at.

I’m all for tattoos. I have a few of them. I’ve gotten them here and there over the years. I’ve only really regretted one. The first one. But I was 18 and you know, what do you really know at 18? You fall in love with Madonna and she makes a movie called truth or dare, and she has a tattoo on her back and you decide, “Hey, I’m gonna get that tattoo on me!”

You don’t realize at the time that her tattoo is fake…and yours is now, embarrassingly real.

But besides that first nightmare, I love my ink. I’ve basically only had one rule when it came to going under the needle. No names. Not my husband, not my children, not even mine. In fact, when my father decided to get a tattoo (his first one ever and he’s 54) he decided to get my name. Even that was a bit strange for me. Names just seem a little out of the question.

So last week a good friend of mine calls up and tells me that her and her boyfriend of a few months broke up. I felt really bad for her. She had told me a couple of months earlier that he was considering getting a tattoo. The tattoo was of his family crest with her name wrapped around it. I begged her not to let him get it. She said she would try. I said, do more than try. Absolutely do not ALLOW him to get your name on his body. But a man in love cannot be stopped. He went ahead with the tattoo, just seven days before the breakup.

And imagine my surprise when, through the tears, she tells me that she got his name tattooed on her as well. Good Lord I said. And that’s really all I could say. Besides, “Where is the tattoo located?”

Right below my belly button and just above my “secret garden,” she says.

What in the fucking fuck! I say. Seriously? My life is a complete wreck, but my advice is usually right on the money. And not only didn’t she take it and pass it on to him, but she didn’t even let it penetrate her thinking. I mean come on.

Take it from the girl with a school girl crush on Madonna…you’re never as in love as you think you are. I've been walking around with "ALL ACCESS" tattooed on me since I was 18. And there's nothing more stupid than that. Well, besides a name.