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am i the only person who pays attention to the details?

5 February 2008

in my quest for the one thing that eludes me above all others, love, i ventured into the pathetic world of online dating. why, oh why, i now ask myself, did i hope for even 14 nanoseconds that within the confines of my 17 inch monitor i would find my prince charming? in retrospect i should have been aiming not for the love of my life but rather a heart beat and 14 teeth. at least that goal would have been attainable.

i don’t think i’m the wittiest or wisest person to place their pumas upon this planet but i do know one thing, i’m unique. i mean, we all are, aren’t we? there is a little list of things about “the lil” that i feel set me apart from the world and when crafting my oh so brilliant dating profile, i tried to spell them out. for your amusement, i present My Profile. hang it on your refrigerator and show it to all your hot, single friends of the male persuasion. pretty please?

“me: pescetarian, parent, procrastinator, aspiring (copy)writer and professional smart ass. loves: picture takin’, live music, my quirky family, my ridiculously wonderful friends and my adorable feet. likes: my music loud and my beers with bite. enjoys: concerts, scaling rock faces, sleeping in tents, brewery visits and sampling exotic fares (especially of the spicy variety. and no, i’m not talking about ricky martin or antonio banderas). hates: lies (even white ones), country music, beets, budgets, meat heads and midgets.

you: gainfully employed, smoke-free (call me a hardass but this is non-negotiable), just sane enough to not be frightening but crazy enough to still be fun. open-minded, creative, tall and don’t live for hunting, fishing or televised sports. realize that camouflage is NOT for everyday wear. know what MPR is an actually listen to it. don’t do the same things with the same people every weekend. would rather DO than watch others do. for the love of Pete (just because he’s so cool), be able to spell and formulate an entire sentence that doesn’t contain one single internet slag spelling such as “kewl” or “hawt”. a pleasant demeanor and wicked sense of humor would be pretty sweet too.”

so, there you have it. pretty straight forward right? maybe even a little funny (hopefully). well, let me outline the kind of “gentlemen” who emailed me.

  • 5’8″ men – is this considered tall anywhere other than on the planet (moon) Endor?
  • men whose profile photo featured them with a dead animal – because pescetarians LOVE dead animals, right?
  • smokers – notice i didn’t say men who smoke, because that could insinuate a certain level of good looks. no, these guys smoke. what it is they do not say but based on their gross inability to pay attention, i’m going with crack. or pot. either way, they’re dumb.
  • hip-hoppers – seriously? look at me. do i look like the kind of girl who would be on the arm of a hip hop guy? i think not. course, if ll cool j asked me out, i’d be there with bells on or any other gear he asked me to rock. yum-o.
  • people who can’t spell – THIS ONE IS THE WORST OF ALL. i want to take all of these people and banish them to an island in the middle of the pacific. forever. no ferries back to the mainland. one way ticket only. goodbye. good riddance.

so anyway, as you can see, the cream that rose to the top wasn’t cream after all really. more like that pus that’s removed during pasteurization. delish.

and on to my second, but related, rant. individuality.

i kid you not, i think these guys literally copied and pasted their profiles from one another. they all say the same damn things, “i like the outdoors. i like to stay healthy. i like going out but i also like staying in.” hooray asshole, you just described the entire population of the world! after reading the 4th profile that said that, i almost tossed my Compact out the window. (which, coincidentally, i should do anyway because it’s a POS.)

the burning question really is this, did i meet anyone? yes, i did actually. i went on 5 first dates in 2 weeks. 2 were horrendous, 2 were utterly disappointing and 1 was actually pretty fun considering i was massively hungover (thank you jagermeister). my average isn’t very good, is it?

i learned something in the process though. people do NOT pay attention to the details. not even the important ones, like the fact that i don’t eat meat. one guy tried to order for me (which i hate by the way. this IS the 21st century)… a steak. seriously. i shit you not. i should have just politely excused myself, folded my napkin over the back of my chair and hightailed it out the front door right then and there but i didn’t. i’m too fucking nice.

amy winehouse says it well, “love is a losing game”

either i’ve done something right…

18 December 2007

or my son is a complete freak of nature. i really hope that i had something to do with it though and when i asked him 5 minutes ago, he agreed.

about now you’re thinking, “what prompted this round of horn tooting Miss Smuggypants?”

my kid is just badass, that’s all. i have to say that i have never found anything in my life more elating that parenting. seriously. (did that make sense? i can’t say i’ve ever used elate in such a manner. anywho…) so yeah, the munchkin, he’s pretty cool.

when i was sitting in the doctors office years ago waiting to find out if i was brewing up something baby style, i couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be a parent. strangely, i was never really all that concerned about it. i guess i figured that people have been doing this for thousands of years and it certainly couldn’t be much more difficult that hooking up my home theater. okay, maybe it’s a LITTLE harder than that.

the thing is, it’s all pretty simple. baby comes out (which hurt like a bitch by the way), you do a little spit shinin’, a little feeding, a little burping and a whole lot of loving.

piece. of. cake.

and that’s how it’s been. i think maybe i’m a bit of an unconventional parent. when he asks me a question, i answer it truthfully and honestly. when he was 6, he read the word “abortion” on a billboard we drove by and asked me what that meant. i told him. i told him all the reason why people are against and why people are for it and why people have them and let him ask me all the questions he wanted. that’s just how we do things.

when he was 7, my mother bought him an illustrated big book of facts. he would spend HOURS reading about space, history, plants and insects, often running to the room i was in, book in hand, to rattle off some fact he had just read. also in this book was a section on the human body, reproduction and development. when i came in his room and found him reading it, i asked him if he had any questions. i was SO thrilled when he did. at that point they were a little more clinical but he did ask me about how babies are made and i told him that i had 2 great books when i was a kid, Where Did I Come From? and What’s Happening To Me? I told him that we would pick these up for him and we did.

i guess i never even thought about it. i figure if he’s old enough to ask, he’s old enough to know. we talk about war, about politics, about drug use… everything. and honestly, i try very hard not to taint these conversations with my opinions. i try to stick to the facts because really, isn’t it up to him to decide what kind of man he wants to be?

but back to how badass he is… he just thrills me. he puts his dishes in the dishwasher without me asking him to. he put the toilet seat down and washes his hands without giving it a second thought. when i ask him to do his homework before playing or help take out the trash, he just does it. why? because i tell him all the time that we are a TEAM. “it’s just me and you kid. we gotta do it together.”

tonight’s awwwww moment was when he came in my room a good 20 minutes before his bedtime. he was already in his pajamas and was holding his dirty clothes, headed for the hamper.

“in your pjs already sunshine?” i asked.

“yup,” he said, “i’m want to go to bed now.”

“it’s early you know.”

“i know,” he replied. “i’m going to bed because i’m tired now like we talked about.”

how crazy is that? a couple of days ago he was telling me he was tired when we were eating dinner. i said, “well, you don’t need to stay up until your bedtime you know. if you’re tired, go to bed angel.” the look on his face was so funny. it was like he had never considered that he could go to bed EARLIER if he wanted to. (and let’s be honest, what kid goes with THAT option?)

so, tonight he was exercising his new found freedom of bedtime. 🙂 it just made me smile. when i hopped off my bed, scoped him up in my arms (no small task now that he’s almost as tall as me) and carried him into his room, i told him that he was simply the best kid ever. then i asked him how he got that way and he said, “i would think it’s at least a little bit from you.”

i hope so sunshine, i sure hope so.

me and the boy

and suddenly, it’s like we’re kids again.

4 December 2007
tags: , ,

today was a wonderful day to be in Minnesota. all day long i looked out the window of my 27th floor office (okay, glorified cubicle) and watched delicate ivory snowflakes flutter past. mother nature was awesome in her delivery of 5 fresh inches of white power.

sure, there was no shortage of frustrations. buses running late or not showing up at all, jack knifed semis and t-boned SUVs and Corollas in ditches… but when i finally climbed in my icebox of a truck and started to make my way toward my son’s school, i couldn’t resist turning off my traction control and whippin’ a shitty in the lot of my park and ride.

after the boy was safely buckled in the back seat (and the traction control was turned back on), i SPAM-texted a few friend while stopped at a traffic light. just a simple “did you make it home safe?” yeses came tucked inside the little blue envelopes on my cell phone screen. all seemed well… that is until one of those little blue envelopes delivered the message I had hoped NOT to hear. “I just t-boned J’s new van.” came the reply from E, my landlord. shortly thereafter, a similar message from J, his roommate. both live upstairs from me and are great friends of mine. ug. no good.

so, i texted them both back to make sure they weren’t bleeding profusely or waiting for the jaws of life to arrive which, thankfully, they were not. all the way home i worried about them. when i pulled up in front of the house, there sat J’s van, resting peacefully in front of the house under a thick blanket of new fallen snow.

when i ventured to the back yard to allow them to laugh at me properly, i found them bundled up in full winter gear shoveling and running the snowblower. i stood at the door and watched them, confused by their odd method of clearance. as i watched, they blew all the snow in the yard into one corner with the precision of a surgeon. one would run the blower and the other would use the shovel to push stray piles into the path of the churning claws. in thick streams the powder shot toward the corner and when the alley light caught it, it glimmered like fairy dust.

eventually i grew bored of watching them and returned to the house for a hot shower. when i stepped out, steaming and refreshed, my son knocked on the door.

“mom, mom! you have to come look at this!”

i slipped on my robe, wrapped my hair in a towel and followed him over the squeaky hardwood floors to his bedroom.

“what?” i asked.

he pulled up his blinds and pointed out the window to the back yard.

“look” he said.

the “boys”, J and E, had taken all that carefully placed snow and made a giant slide from the top of the fort, which stands about 4 feet in the air, down to the ground. as i looked out with my son, they turned toward us and just stood grinning. they looked as though they were saying, “look mom! we made a slide!”

: )

and though they aren’t mine (wouldn’t THAT be something if I had a 29 and 28 year old?), i was very proud of what those two big kids had done. clearly, so were they.

mysteries of the human psyche

3 December 2007

hey, i’m not completely unaware. i know i can be a raging bitch once in a while. i mean, who isn’t? (and no, that doesn’t mean monthly) we’ve all said and done things in the heat of an argument that we later wish we could wipe from the memory of our target. problem is, it’s just not that simple. if it were, i’d be carting around a rather large Pink Pearl and shooting my mouth off whenever i felt like it. lordy, could that ever be satisfying.

the thing is, i think there are multiple lessons in learning to strap the proverbial filter on when we talk to others. one, patience. two, LISTENING. three, understanding. four, humility. five, censorship. 🙂 i put censorship last but i think it’s perhaps the most important of the 5 things i listed. why? well, glad you asked.

see, i’m a person who hates talking face to face and LOVES to “talk” over email. i’m just not that great in person. i trip over my words, i jumble my thoughts, i talk in circles, i’m a wreck. but on (virtual) paper, i can hammer out the most scathing, insulting email possible and then click “save”while i ponder the repercussions of sending said email. believe me, this has come in handy for me multiple times.

“are you fucking kidding me? what kind of jackhole move was that? i can’t believe you found a job somewhere other than the Super America with brilliant decision-making abilities like that” can become, “it sounds like that was the best move for you given the situation. can we talk about other options in case we run into something like this in the future?” oh Pink Pearl, how I love you so.

Pink Pearl

so, yeah, i can be a bitch… and no one needs to know.

other people though, other people seem to have either lost the bitch filter, in both face to face interactions AND over email, or are just too caught up in their own awesomeness to realize that the world in fact does NOT revolve around them. perhaps they should have their own titles (or their own planet) like John Doe, S.A.P. (self-absorbed prick) or something entirely more brilliant (a little help here Scott?). at least then you would know what you were getting yourself into when you started a conversation with one of them.

it’s these people that make me the most crazy. the self-righteous, egocentric assholes that i encounter every day of my life. the people who think they are always right. the people who have that “my way or the highway” mentality. the people who think their idea is the only good one. i’m a stubborn Scorpio but if someone presents me with a well thought out plan/idea/POV opposite my own and does it without pausing to insult my intelligence or beliefs along the way, chances are, i’m going to be pretty darn receptive. imagine that. (feel free to try this tactic out on your wife. you can thank me for the blow job later.)

so, at any rate, i guess i’ll just never understand why people think they can spew bullshit in your general direction but then be mystified as to why the whole situation stinks. put the filter on. keep the bullshit to yourself. take out your aggression on your treadmill or pop a xanax.

just please, be nice. i’ve had it.

testing, testing…

3 December 2007

is this thing on? well, obviously it’s on. it’s the world wide web for chrissake… did you ever think about the fact that the internet is never down? individual sites, yes, but the internet itself is always up. it’s amazing to me that cable or satellite “goes out” but the internet never does. yeah, i know it’s a large, complex net work and doesn’t rely on just one source for content or service but still… then again, you’re talking to the girl who is mystified that we haven’t yet found a “better” way to make babies.

we have bionic arms and prosthetic heart valves and cloning but we still brew babies the old fashioned way. i am CERTAIN there is a market for offline embryo incubation. stretch marks, heart burn and weight gain are NOT most women’s idea of a good time. i should get on that. maybe it’s my million dollar idea…

alright, this is the first of many blogs… i think. bear with me while i work out the kinks.