Bracing For a Punch

I am tired.

More specifically, I am tired of losing things.

In the last 15 months, I have lost 

My Home.

Many friends.

A marriage.

My mental acuity.

My trust in others.

 My body.

and yesterday my father died.

If I break it down, I have a new home.

 I am happier here. I am safe here. There are no bad memories here.

Even if I wanted to, I never could've stayed in my old home. And I will never go back. I will never drive down that street again. 

 My new home and town feel more like a home than I have known since childhood.

I love it here.

My friends that I thought were friends aren't the people who I thought that they were. Some were gossipers. I was guilty of that too. Some were adulterers. Some were cowards who ignored it all. (Guilty) Some were focused on material wealth. (Guilty) My friends now are strong. Faithful. They don't play both sides of the fence. I am now surrounded by people who are truly good people with good intentions. 

I love them.

My marriage had many happy times but wasn't healthy. It made knots in my stomach. It made me cry and feel genuinely confused. I fought to save it and the harder I fought, the worse it got. Nothing made sense. And then when I knew why and how it collapsed, I fell into a deeper hole. Nothing but nothing should make you feel like that.

My life is better now. Better than it has been my entire adult life. 

I fought to get right. My mind was stripped bare. It was the single worse thing that has ever happened to me. To literally feel like a wrapper to your body. A shell. To feel vulnerable and fear that you aren't taking care of your child. To watch your child have to assume the role of an adult multiple times. As a survival tactic. The inadequacy that you feel when that happens...it is unimaginable.  But I rebuilt my head. I used a solid foundation. My daughter is stronger than she has ever been. Now she can lean on me again. Losing my head and rebuilding it all was the best thing because I rid myself of the compromised areas. 

I feel calm and stronger.

I have control again. And I will never lose it.

I still don't trust others well. But I have a better awareness of people and I try not to put myself in the path of those who would take advantage of me. So I spend time with people worthy of that leap of trust. I feel it coming back. But it is new this time. Because I am wiser.

My body.

Now that I am getting my head right, I can run 13 miles. And hopefully, I get my focus back to become the bikini competitor that I once was a short lifetime ago.

I want my body back.

But this time, It will be for me.

Waking up yesterday and getting the call that my father had died was a punch I was bracing myself for this week. He was in hospice. His beloved Red Sox had won. He died in his sleep. He is not in pain. He won't need to feel the pain or the struggle to breathe that he has been experiencing. Peace is good. He was given the grace that a man such as himself deserves, To just drift away in comfortable rest. I am thankful. But I can't get my head around the fact that we will never see each other again. But still, I feel some peace. 

  I stood there feeling like I needed to be strong. For my daughter. My brothers. My stepmother. So that the wonderful man who was hugging me didn't have to take care of me even though he wanted to do so.  Someone who I care about who makes me feel safe.  And I still go through life feeling afraid that my grief will inconvenience others. And that I need to apologize for having feelings. I realized that I have lost the ability to be vulnerable. And that makes me very sad. Because there are feelings that I need to feel. But I am afraid that if I do, I will lose my grip on one of my strongholds. 

I have lost the ability to let go and really feel things. I walk around braced, ready to take a punch 24/7. I never stop. And for that, I am tired.

I really pray that this precious thing that I have lost will return. I can make peace with everything else. But this I want back. And I hope that time makes that happen. Because without the ability to be vulnerable, I will never completely 

Feel at home.

Be a good friend.

Give my heart to someone.

Think clearly.

Trust fully.

Be 100% healed from this loss.

So instead of bracing for a punch, I am going to need to go limp.

Damn.

Now I gotta learn something new.

They #@% you at the drive-thru

 I don't know how to trust anymore.

But, I want to change that. 

Does anyone else feel this way?

I've had several people ask if I would write about trust and relationships and I haven't because I shouldn't write about something that I don't know how to do.

 Right?

Unless writing about not knowing how to trust is what they meant? If so, hang on to your ass, Fred! We're getting into this.

Of this subject, I am an expert.

I wasn't always this way and I am not like this on every level. My friend Tiffany knows the code to my front door. I send my daughter to the mall with my credit card. I don't always check my bag before leaving the drive-thru.

I trust, damn it.

But do I trust in romantic relationships?

Well, I want to. 

I am trying really hard. Especially now.

I want to give a man the same trust that I give to the Arby's drive-thru.

I gave my full trust and heart to my marriage. But in return, I stopped trusting myself. I ignored my instincts. And then I misplaced them. That's a really bad thing to lose. It left me completely confused about reality.

And damn it, what if it's permanent?

Where are they?

Probably having shots with my trust, laughing and enjoying their hiatus.

Do I trust men or do they constantly have other lines cast out into the water "just in case"? And if they do, does that mean that I am not enough for someone? When I am interested in a man, I stop entertaining the idea of others. I don't message other men. I focus. Otherwise, how do you know? But do men do this too? 

I feel like that is the biggest thing you deal with after any kind of breakup. Wondering why your 100% wasn't satisfying enough for someone?

That's my biggest fear right now. Second only to the fear that the feeling won't ever go away.

OR...

Do I trust myself or do I constantly lie to myself because being single and dating people for a week is just easier than opening up and trusting again? That's a hard truth.  Because people aren't bad. They're just not perfect. And I get scared too easily.

I've never been a "check the bag at the drive-thru" kinda girl. Not on an order for myself. I just trust and go.

Joe Pesci would be so pissed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V66XdulPrBM

And he's right. They can.

Here you are, miles away and you are either the person who goes back or you eat the thing and wish you had what you wanted in the 1st place.

Or you go in and order, make sure it's right and leave with a guarantee that what you need is in the bag. But you go in because you don't fully trust. At some point, we need to let go and trust. Not at the beginning but eventually. Doubt Town. That is nowhere to permanently live. 

That is life in a nutshell. 

When do you start to trust completely? It's the most freeing and beautiful thing about a relationship, drive-thru or romantic. The convenience to letting go of doubt. 

You know what's the tits? Those random weird fries at the bottom of the bag. The one or two waffle or curly fries when you ordered seasoned fries? You didn't even know that you wanted one but when the universe tosses one in...well, if that doesn't give you a natural high then we can't be friends. And normally, that happens only at the drive-thru.

That's what I want.

I want to trust someone enough to have the reciprocal relationship that I have with Arby's. An equal partnership. I won't underpay and hopefully, they won't short me either. And in return for that trust, the universe will throw me the occasional curly fry to remind me that I'm alive.

I smell a dumpster fire...

We live in a time of excess.

Being the fat fucks that we all are, well...

What a time to be alive!

I know what you're thinking, "She just called me a fat fuck!"

I said, "We". 

"We ALL are"

Oh.

That's better.

Wait...

What?

Not only is food everywhere for most of us, we have options. Oh, so many options. We develop specific tastes. Social media tells us where and what to hashtag and order. Food types become popular and all of the sudden, we're all eating avocado toast like it's not just freaking toast and spread.

And we forgot that we really like peanut butter.

Now, I love breakfast foods more than the average person. Right next to beards and Star Wars, breakfast foods are my jam.

insert toast and jam joke here

So let's acknowledge that I am not anti-breakfast foods. 

And...

I love avocado toast.

I LOVE choices.

But, I can't discount the fact that we will eventually find ourselves sitting in restaurants, berating the experience because they only have regular toast. I mean, WHO doesn't have the avocado toast for cripes sake? Or, they HAVE avocado toast but they don't use a balsamic reduction on it? Or burrata cheese as an accompaniment? 

There's sea salt but no pink Himalayan sea salt? 

Savages.

This is us.

In every sense,

 this is us. 

Our abundant and probably unnecessary choices have left us with an unquenchable taste for different and more. So much more that we can't even.

Literally.

Fat fucks.

You can weigh 92 pounds and to act this way qualifies you as such.

Now, I love great foods. And yes, I have pink Hymalian sea salt in my kitchen. I have a cheese drawer in my refrigerator and I just opened it to find the exact spelling of burrata. Also, to eat some burrata. Remember, I said "ALL". I too am a fat fuck.

But, as per usual, my point is to come because we aren't going to bash food.

Take that negativity over to your favorite diet blog's comment section.

Not on my watch.

No, we are talking about excess and our insatiable hunger for what we're told to want. And how it can take us from fueling ourselves for what we need to over-indulgence. Expecting the beyond and not appreciating the simple. And why it leaves us unsatisfied. 

We indulge and indulge and we're never full. There must be something better out there, right? We partake and taste until we are desensitized.

And we feel like shit.

And we sit at home and wonder why we did it.

Why did I eat all that shit?

I'm not satisfied.

See? Fat fucks.

News flash! Obviously, and I hope that you picked this up, this is not about food.

Yeah, I am talking about people...again. Because this blog has always been about human relationships and how I view the world. And just what confuses me. And what I need answers to in this life.

You see, I throw it out there and the Universe hits back answers. It's pretty nifty.

Last night, someone messaged me and called me "a snack".

1st off, I immediately wondered what kind of snack and then I WANTED a snack.

And, I messaged back, "I'm a full-course dining experience."

WRONG ANSWER, NICOLE!

Shit.

See, this is why the weirdos come back and I need use my block button so often. My bad.

I'm learning. Cut me a little slack.

 But eventually, the right man will get my point.

Do you get my point?

No?

Ok...here it is.

There is a legion of people that are snacks out there. Let's be polite and call them the Legion of Snacks. Men and women.

Now, I love snacks and I indulge. Sometimes, I just don't want a big meal. I want to stand over my sink and eat something that is quick and delicious. I want to forgo the napkin and lick my fingers. Because my intention is immediate gratification or I am just starving and I don't want to wait until dinner.

Will I starve? Literally? Nope.

But I want it.

Now.

 And it looks so good. The packaging, the zero prep.

All with the intention of still eating dinner.

But sometimes we snack so much that we are too full for dinner. Or, we just don't want to cook. Do the dishes. Go to the store.  

So, we want a thicc lil snack.

I get it.

I love thicc snacks and I cannot lie.

But I can't live happily on snacks.

Here's the problem.

 If you spend all of your time eating snacks over the sink, you won't know how to sit down for a full-course dining experience.

You won't know how to behave. How to savor each course. What fork to use.

Then, we're savages.

Shit, we're barely capable of it because we are all snacks and apps.

All avocado toast and quick bites because it is heavily advertised on our news feeds.

Filtered and shirtless...the Legion of Snacks.

Delicious.

 What does that make us? 

Because I am not innocent in all of this.

 I am well aware that it doesn't satiate my hunger.

I am eventually left feeling unsatisfied and looking for more snacks.

And that fucking toast, whether I like it or not because I am supposed to like it...right?

Only my single friends really get it.

Hear that.

Married folks, love your spaghetti nights every Wednesday.

That is some satisfying stuff. You have food at home.

Women know when we post a picture that is attractive too, BTW. We know that we look like a snack. When I see guys with a ton of snacks on their friends and followers list, I immediately see it as a sign of insecurity.

Yup. We immediately see you as less attractive.

 And in our Secret Snack Meetings, we discuss this. You see, women only post snack pics to get the attention of one, maybe two guys at best. Very specific men. If you constantly Love her pics and she won't go out with you, guess what? You're a fat fuck.

Figuratively.

She doesn't like you that way. You're filler.

 Ladies, this goes for us too. 

Hear me now.

That was my Ted Talk moment. You're welcome.

My point here is we need to figure out why we are content at this point in time being told what to do. What to like. And why are we ruining our appetites?

How do we separate those who just like snacks from those who want dinner on the table nightly?

Because we're wasting each other's time and spoiling our appetites.

Thoughts welcome.

As always.

Judging is bad. Figuring stuff out, good.

Emotional Condoms

We live in a time where "Dating Desperation" is at an all-time high.

All the apps, having someone to spend the evening with so that we can post pics of our plates and drinks, selfie and tag.

And keep at an arm's distance, emotionally.

Because perception has become more important than the connection.

To most of us. 

But to those who are actually looking for someone to cultivate a life with, it sucks.

And we're all sharing the same space.

I think it makes us settle. 

I don't like to settle.

I like to win.

(Shocker)

After ending 24 years of marriage, I haven't been shy about putting myself out there. I trust easily and I am easily trusted which is part of my charm and my eventual demise in all things men. 

I am a full-time parent.

 I was messaging with a guy and he was like, "WYD?" 

"Hanging out with my daughter."

"What are you doing after that?"

Dude...there IS no after that. I'm her mom. 

My daughter is gone for 42 hours, every two weeks. 

42 hours. 

5 pm on Friday till 11am on Sunday.

Do you know how hard it is to cultivate a relationship with someone with so little time?

It is impossible.

It sucks, actually.

Or, try keeping them engaged for 2 weeks until you can go out and have a date where you lose track of time talking because you truly enjoy each other's company? 

I don't normally have that luxury.

That time we all loved in college when we had few responsibilities.

Late night talks at Denny's and parks.

Talks on our crappy hand-me-down couches in our 1st apartments.

That kind of time.

The stuff that cultivates beginnings.

I love that stuff.

The attention span of today's dating pool is mosquito level, at best. Because there are tons of other women who are readily available to go out and do things more quickly than I am.

Sure, I go to lunches and dinners. And movies with guys. Out for drinks. But, I can't invite them in to just hang out and talk. All those things that happen in a natural progression of a relationship. All that good, face to face stuff. Hanging out. Making dinner. Listening to music. Watching movies. 

I have a roommate. She is a high school senior and ALWAYS home. 

My sweet little home which I love but has zero privacy to talk to other adults. 

 And, because people have the retention and attention span of gnats, I am not inviting anyone in to talk during my 42 hours because at that point, they're new to me and I'm not that stupid.

Also, before you get your all-knowing panties in a wad over what I just said, let's clear up an important point:

  I am honored to be a mom and I am a damn good one so don't think I feel inconvenienced or otherwise. I wouldn't change my life right now. If I need to choose one way or the other, I choose this.

Venting is human.

But back to the subject at hand---the dreaded "catching feelings".

This is where most men and women seem to linger now. They want to date regularly, play house, text good morning and good night. 

But they don't want commitment.

And they're upfront about it.

They wear an emotional condom. So they can enjoy life but not contract feelings.
I don't wear one. Stifles the sensitivity. 

My question is why?

What is it that makes people want to stifle the natural progression of nature?

Is it to keep all of their options open for later while concurrently being satisfied in the present? 

(By the way, that is a huge F you to anyone you're dating regularly. You might just be a dick. Know thyself.)

Is it to protect yourself because you've been hurt?

I want to know.

 Because all things go back to Star Wars and other geeky movies like Jurassic Park, I think about how Jeff Goldblum's character, the fantastic Dr. Ian Malcolm lectures the dangers of disrupting nature. We foolishly think that we are in charge. 

Note, foolishly. 

And while we cannot avoid the disruptions or even change them, we never remember that "Life finds a way."

Nature is one bad ass MF.

We will adapt to a new normal. 

The question is, will this cause destruction or improve society?

While I am forever in search for the man who wants to be monogamous and eat grilled cheese sandwiches with me in my kitchen at 2am while watching Empire Strikes Back, I am like everyone else, adapting.

But I still want to know why?

Why are people so desperate to connect with others and yet they don't want to "catch feelings"?

A term that has launched a thousand memes.

What is your theory?

Are we screwed?

Am I a dinosaur? Thrust into a world in which I am found fascinating and yet simultaneously, I don't feel like I belong? In the wrong era?

Thoughts? There are no wrong ones and I welcome yours.

That's What She Said

• “There’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things, isn’t that kind of the point?”

Nothing in my life feels ordinary.

Do we all go through life pretending to be brave? Like nothing bothers us? 

Just so no one pities us. So that we can be alone and not have to answer questions about our well-being?

To go into the woods and lick our wounds or die in peace like the animals we are?

Do we all do that or is it just me?

On what was going to be an awful 1st, a friend recommended that I watch The Office.

My daughter was gone for the 1st holiday since my divorce and I was spending Thanksgiving alone. 

I was invited to eat with friends but as I stated above, it was a situation in which I preferred my own company. I went to the community workout at CFR and headed home, logged into Netflix and started the series. When my daughter got home that Saturday, I was into Season 3.

“Sometimes I’ll start a sentence, and I don’t even know where it’s going. I just hope I find it along the way.”

Last night, I finished the series. 195 days later. And so much has happened. 

In a time of great inconsistencies, The Office was stability. It wasn't going anywhere. 

My 1st Christmas as a single mom, my daughter gave me a Dundie and awarded me The Hottest In The Office award. We binged The Office together. She texted me this because a 17-year old will text you while sitting in the same room as you:

It was a perfect day. 

I thought it would be awful. It turned out to be the happiest Christmas I've had in many years.

Cotton had an ad campaign years back and the slogan was, "The Fabric of Our Lives."

As I watched this series, I couldn't help but notice how true that was in regard to The Office and so many people. It is woven into the lives of so many of us.

"I get home from work and watch The Office."

"The Office is on in the background every night."

"Want to come over and watch The Office?"

Every single person who I connect with connects with this show on a different level.

It's like, family.

A not so secret society.

The Office has hung with me these last 195 days. It kept me company through my 1st bout with the flu when I had no one to buy me crackers and check on me.

It celebrated with me when I fell in love the 1st time and stayed with me when my heart was broken.

I hate to sleep alone. Hate it. So, it kept me company all of those late nights.

The last 6 weeks, almost every Friday and Saturday night, I've hung out with the paper pushers from Dunder Mifflin. I wasn't ready for the series to end.

I could list a hundred events and times that The Office has seen me thru over the last few months. It has been my friend when I didn't feel like I had one. Someone to laugh with when I needed it. Noise in the background so the silence doesn't suffocate me. 

 I rationed out the last season.

 I felt like I couldn't deal with another thing being taken from my life. I didn't want it to be over. 

But all things end.

Who would've thought that a show about a bunch of ordinary people selling paper in Scranton would hit me so hard in the feels?

Or that it would give so much back to me?

I asked a friend, "Well, what do I do now?"

He said, "You start over."

You start over.

If he only knew the double-meaning in what he said. Or maybe he does but in a different way that is relevant to him?

It seems like we all watch The Office because we need to. It fills something in our souls. It makes us feel connected or connects us to others who just "get it'.

The Nard Dog left us with a great thought:

“I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days, before you’ve actually left them.”

Maybe, that's now. 

If it isn't, we just start over.

Like This Blog Post- No Hashtag

I often wonder if I am too optimistic or just naive? I mean, I state what is written above too often for myself to ignore and yet, I am the eternal Sunshine Pumper.

Why? How?

 At this point, I should be a bit jaded. But, I'm not. And that perplexes me beyond what I can properly express. 

(So, yes Nicole. Blog about it. Because if you can't express it mentally or verbally, by ALL means, throw that ball of confusion out there.)

Does anyone else feel like they are in a perpetual state of befuddlement regarding this life? Because from what I have observed, the written rules don't govern the state.

I feel (and argue with me if you think I am wrong) that a shift has occurred in the last 5 to 10 years. I see, on a larger scale, repugnance being celebrated on a global level.

Shitty people getting famous for shitty behavior. 

True art and music being thrown aside because of surface level judgment and looks being celebrated before talent. 

We are making fools famous.

We.

Us.

Me. 

You.

Let's go closer to home:

Since we aren't all friends with rock stars and Academy Award winners (for fuck's sake, please stop calling them by their 1st names like you are catching the new Deadpool with them later this week), let's address this:

 Really nice people with 12 Likes on a status that is REAL AF and 200 on some bull statement pic with pursed lips and a peace sign.  

We are doing the exact same thing but on a more tangible level and that stuff effects our lives.

Truly.

We interact with these people that we make Internet Famous on some strange local level.

We like stuff that we KNOW is total BS. Don't deny being human. You do it. I do it. You like and I like because we WANT to BE liked.

We know that someone is a freaking creep-common knowledge stuff-but we gush over their "Couple Status", like the pic and then gossip about what a POS they are to their partner to someone else. 

We keep friends on social media who we wouldn't call Friend IRL.

We creep.

(Nicole, I don't...

LIAR! 

We all do. 

Settle down and admit it, silently. 

I'll wait.

There you go.)

We skew reality and then wonder why good things happen to shitty people.

WE do it. This is really on us.

Bummer...

We make people think that value is on aesthetics. On who is the saucier and sassier poster. Who has the IDGAF filterless page that generates the most clicks?  

I can post a pic of what music I listen to or what I am reading but the response is minimal. 

(This is my brain.)

I can post a pic of myself and if the cosmic consensus is that I look hot, the response is 2 scoops of Heavy Likes with creepy fucking sprinkles.

(Those are my boobs.)

And then we sit at home and ask ourselves, "What is right?"

At this point, how ARE we supposed to know?

I have friends, good friends who are single. We get together and commiserate over beer and coffee on why?

Intelligent and attractive friends who have the confidence of the nerd in a coming of age movie, pre-makeover montage. Wondering what the actual fuck is going wrong? 

I wonder the same thing.

Why?

 Why do good people with kind hearts, brains, who are financially stable and treat others well find themselves alone at night, scrolling thru Insta and FB, lonely, looking at posts and pics of people who are living lives that we know are BS. And WHY are we propelling this perception by providing affirmation to what we KNOW is their BS? 

(Yes, I get that there are real "relationship goals" and "squad goals" out there. There IS truth and beauty. 

Like that shit. Always.

I'm a Sunshine Pumper, remember? So, stop.)

My question is this: when do we reclaim reality? And how? The power of social media and perception is bigger than us now. It elects powers that be. It is The Spice. It writes the script and suddenly our lives are like reality TV. We know things are scripted. We act like it isn't when it makes us happy but complain that it is when we're unhappy. And while logic tells us what we want and what is right, we question it.

We question what we KNOW is right because it doesn't provide instant affirmation.

Damn it.

I love the instant stuff.

So, how do we make this better?

 I am asking you because I truly don't know.

I will wake up tomorrow. I will pump sunshine and post selfies and like things online. This is life. 

But I will also talk to people IRL. Smile at strangers just because I want them to feel happy too. Give hugs. Make my classes listen to my music and I will follow my gut instincts. I will stay unapologetically me although that gets me in trouble on the daily.

But I have no idea what is going on.

I'm sleeping with Lando Calrissian

I'm a bed maker.

I make my bed every day.

One, it is so adult. I walk into the room and I feel like a grown-up. 

Two, I hate seeing this:

 Hate it.

Why does it feel so bad to sleep alone?

Some people relish it. 

When I was married, my ex-husband would come to bed hours after me. He didn't touch me-not a cuddler-so I am not reminiscing about something that I miss. 

Actually, I loved it when he was NOT in our bed as I was trying to fall asleep. He snored. If I was already asleep, his snoring wouldn't wake me up. Much.

No, I think the visual of it just FEELS so fucking bad that I make my bed.

There are nights like tonight that I sit at home, my teenager is out until curfew.

HGTV is on and you feel more alone than you ever knew possible.

(Let's be real though...I am watching Empire Strikes Back)

Men send you "What's up, beautiful?" messages and it makes you want to cry because they don't see you for you. And they send you or say things that they would NEVER say in person. And you block another guy that you thought might be nice and hate the world.

And you feel angry because you don't like to be alone. And you wonder if that is good or bad? And if this will be forever?

Being in a relationship is like having a buffer or a filter for your thoughts and soul. Someone else for your energy to bounce back off of like a game of Pong.

I have really good and happy energy that just shoots out into nowhere. Nothing bounces back to recharge me. And I hit empty. Especially at night.

Before you tell me prayer is the answer, understand that I pray daily. Prayers of gratitude. 

God isn't a genie. And we're good.

 But, we are meant to co-exist.

I need to work on being alone. 

But I hate it as much as I hate that picture. 

Why? I think we are so wrapped up in instant gratification. Likes.

Friends and followers.

Affirmation from strangers.

Affirmation feels good. 

It makes good people stray-whether that be cheating or taking time away from your relationships with friends, spouses, family. It makes us feel like we have nothing when we have more than enough. We lose perception of moderation for all things.

Everyone is eating copious amounts of donuts, bacon, drinking. without repercussion, right? 

Wrong. 

We know better. But, we let ourselves think otherwise.

Just for a moment.

 And it makes us feel alone.

Probably because, in a way, we are.

I am thinking clinically but I am also open enough to admit that I recently ended a relationship. And I didn't want to do it. Although it was the best choice for me, it makes me sad daily. He is amazing and I miss him. Good choices can feel really awful sometimes. Truly awful.

But, what has made us get to this point? Is it social media? Or is it something else? Why do we care so much about perception? And why do we miscommunicate who we are to the world?

I would rather be honest and state that being alone sucks. Sleeping alone sucks. Nights alone when you don't want to be alone SUCK. But they can feel like they suck more because our perception is that everyone else is doing well.

They're not.

We all question those couples who can't make it thru life without posting every move they make. What are they trying to prove to themselves? 

Documenting events, kids, fun stuff...that is different. But, I don't need to explain that to you. But those other people? Ugh...We all know people like this.  I always imagine their nights as lonelier than mine. 

Why?

Sleeping alone is lonely but sleeping next to someone who doesn't value your soul is lonelier. 

So, Han Solo is the only guy in my life tonight. 

Or Lando. 

Yeah, Lando Calrissian!!

So much Lando!

Not Luke. 

Never Luke. 

He's a chocho.

Yeah, I said it.

and watch this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xzDPbrrTQys

Otis! My man!

I want points for keeping my sense of humor over the past year.

Here I sit on a rainy Monday morning, drinking coffee and listening to Otis Redding. My house is clean, I am alone and wearing my sweats that would be a deal-breaker to any man who wanted me for my looks. Total comfort.

I am reflecting on my weekend which sends me down the memory rabbit hole of the last few months. Dating for the 1st time in 27 years and phasing off my antidepressants at the same time. Bold move, right? 

That's how I DO!

And, I was ready to do both.

My dating app experience is a WHOLE other post but last night I deleted the apps from my phone. 

Tinder and Bumble are like a literal tsunami of dick. Crude, yes. But that is the best description I can come up with. You put up a profile and then it is like a summer adventure flick. You are standing on the shoreline, enjoying the view and then suddenly, the tide recedes.  Hmmm...that isn't normal? Then, this ominous feeling of dread comes over you-cue the music-and in the horizon, you see it. You don't run, initially. You stand there and just stare. Then instinct says to turn and run and you do. Over your shoulder, a giant wave of weiners.

There is beauty in the ocean. You want to be at the beach. You just don't want to drown in the water.

That was dating apps for me.

The only positive I pulled from them besides from life experience is Jose, who I text with now as I write this entry. He is a chef and restaurant owner. We laugh about how Tinder is kin to a public toilet. Used in what is perceived desperation but MAYBE I could've waited till I got home? He likes brussel sprouts as much as I do. We've never met. He is just a gentleman and a gentle man who is easy to talk to. 

I had a great conversation with a woman in the bathroom at Finnigan's Wake. Girls out for drinks do this. She said the best thing and it really connected with me. She described talking to a man before she married and how it went well over text but in person...nothin'. She realized that she could lead a conversation thru text so that it plays to her level of wit and intelligence. Really, she was courting herself. Of course, it was attractive! That is the perfect description of what is going on in my life and why I can't use these apps.

I meet someone online. He seems witty. Intelligent. I like his face (stupid apps. And I am offended that they like me for my looks?) We graduate from messaging to text. Then, the phone call. I get super pleased because I am hoping that I am going to meet someone that is culturally and intellectually and morally my equal. And I am not above anyone else. NOT AT ALL. I just need to be compatible on that level.  We meet and by date 2, usually...ugh. 

And it makes you wonder? Am I too critical or are these guys just weird?

My No List:

1. Negativity-self-explanatory. I am a sunshine pumper. I don't want someone who complains about the little things. Life is good. Settle down.

2. Dat Ex-can you leave her at home? Or, better yet. Don't date until she is out of your life as a remote possibility? 3 times was enough for me. Get your lives together and just go back to her. 

3. I am a real person-Like me for what is between my ears, not for my looks. I get that is why we swipe right initially but come on. Brainzzzz.

4. No cultural quick wit endurance-is that even a thing? If it wasn't, it is now. I want someone who can keep up. I want to tell someone that I just saw The Crucible and have him say, "Arthur Miller is the shit!" And then he texts me this meme within 2 min.

5. No Big Boy Palate-Be man enough to drink wine and love great food. But still hit the cold 2am pizza over the sink or stand in my kitchen and plow a bowl of cereal.

Oh, and I want him to have a beard. Also, must love animals and Star Wars.

Where is he? 😜

Quick answer...not on dating apps. They take you across the cultural and intellectual border. I don't have a passport. They allow us to create an illusion. Isn't life confusing enough without smoke and mirrors? 

I am going back to meeting guys the old-fashioned way. With me being awkward AF. 

Until then, I have coffee, CrossFit, texts with Jose, my friends

 and my man Otis in the background with rain on my roof.

Pillows and Prozac

"Why don't you write that funny blog anymore?"

Well, damn.

I wouldn't even know where to begin. I mean, literally. I wouldn't know what to start with if I did.

So much has happened.

I was threatened by a reader. I had to get a lawyer.

I became an NPC bikini competitor. 

2017 kicked my now well-defined booty while some millennial Snapped it. Not really, but jeez.

My husband left me and I lost my sense of reality. 

I moved to a new city.

They canceled Criminal Minds: Beyond Borders.

Wait? Hold up. What?

Yeah.

It is a strange sensation. To lose all sense of reality and yet be aware that you ARE LOSING ALL SENSE OF REALITY.

Fun side note; your hair falls out too. Shout out to my stylist, Nicole Watson for adding a shit ton of extensions until those fell out too. You're my hero.

He wasn't happy. I didn't know this. Apparently, he did. I was happy but it takes two. I loved him. He isn't sure if he ever loved me. So, he left.

I can actually pinpoint the day that I knew I had lost my crackers. I was late for work and I turned around and went back home to move two pillows on the bed. I had put the Darth Vader pillow on my side and the Storm Trooper on his. Not that he slept there. But the week before we had a good day and that is where the pillows were on THAT day and if they weren't there today, it would 

All.

Fall.

Apart.

. So, I turned my car around and changed them. And I drove to work.

WAIT! 

Forget that. I'm the Vader. I'm in charge. The universe would see the pillows and know that I was going to cave...again...like I always do. 

GO BACK AND SWITCH THE PILLOWS!

And, I did.

And, I drove to work. 

Again.

I had the worst class. I felt antsy. 

Where was my husband? What if he went home because I wasn't there and saw the pillows?

Ladies, men don't notice pillows. They notice HOW many pillows they have to throw on the floor at night when they get in bed but they don't notice pillow placement. Know this.

I need to get home and change those pillows around! THIS IS THE LONGEST HOUR EVER!!!!

I gunned the yellow light. I made it home. 

The mail was on the kitchen island. 

He had come home to check the mail because I wasn't there. 

that's the worst feeling

He had been in the bedroom to collect more gym clothes. 

Damn it...

And, I sat on the couch and cried from 1:30-6. And thought about absolutely nothing and everything.

Somewhere in there, he stopped by. He sat on the hearth. He left angry.

I pulled my act together and made dinner. I picked up our daughter from practice. He came home and we pretended that everything was fine until she went to bed. Sometimes, we would argue in the basement. 

Then, he'd leave. 

And I would stay awake.

Turned up to 11. 

And I repeated this every day for...I don't even know.

Every.

Day.

We went to counseling. I went to counseling. I got on Prozac. I got strong enough to brush my hair again. 

My marriage didn't make it.

And now, I am divorced. 

We are divorced. Holy shit.

But, he is my friend now.

I have a home, my hair and I've dated a string of unavailable but very attractive men who are WAY too young for me. 

I won't lie. That was fun. 

Except when it wasn't. 

There are parts that I want to forget. And can't.

 That sucks.

But, I sleep now. That is new. I am forever thankful to the friend who helped me in that regard.

I have a kick-ass Millennium Falcon tattoo.

I love my job.

But, what do I do now? Where do I go from here? I really don't know. Life is good. And frightening. And exciting. And frightening. Every day.

But, it IS time to acknowledge to you why I don't write my funny blog anymore. 

Thanks for asking.

And why I will start writing again. 

I will. 

I promise.

And, yes. It will be hilarious.

Stay tuned...

-Nicole