Pink Weight Loss Shake

The title of this post is very, very, very misleading. There is nothing pink in it (unless you count the blog color scheme) and definitely no weight loss shakes shall be discussed…although, they really should be. Trust me on that one. Side note: only talking about me here with the weight loss shakes thing. In any case, the name comes from one of those random name games that pop up on other folks’ walls on Facebook: this one was the color of your pants plus the last thing you ate would create your “band name”. Mine turned out to be Pink Weight Loss Shake, which I thought was cute, light and utterly random; and while this post will not be cute, I am hoping you will find the light-heartedness and random in it.

First, for the first time in what seems like forever…the drama is subsiding not only in my life but with my Panel in general. Folks are going on job interviews, there may not be more money than month but at least it is about equal with money and month both running out at the same time and issues are being tamed. Peace and happiness are making a comeback and being normal is starting to feel normal again. We are raising babies, going to work and learning to be comfortable in our skin again…we are overcoming and it feels damn good. The only exception to this are Brother Everything/Sister Someone…there are messes and then there are hot messes…these two are a hot mess. He is drinking more, she is eating more (the chick has gone from a size 10 to a size 16 in a little under 8 months) and the denial and delusions are running rampant over there, but that is another story for another post.

UTA (I think I am officially in love with her for the 10th time) has entered another writing contest (she did not win the last one but not for lack of efforts or support) and this time, she is promising homemade lemon cake (should she actually win) to those who help her out. Once again, it is based on views and positive commentary, along with the most shares on Facebook and Twitter. So if you are feeling in a generous mood and wanting some yummy cake (please note, paths must actually cross in order to collect on the cake and right now, she is 8,000 miles away) and want to see our girl get rewarded for all of her hard work and wonderful writing, head over to this site: http://www.expatsblog.com/contests/284/top-5-reasons-why-living-in-saudi-arabia-is-great and read, comment and share on your social sites. Please. With lemon cake on top…

Finally, I have decided to stop fighting with my inner demons and hug them instead…I have returned to the 8th grade junior high homeroom and WB and I are exclusive. He now talks in the singular when telling me about his evenings and weekends and is talking of us becoming blonde hipsters who wear scarves with no jackets and trendy glasses. We exchange tidbits about ourselves and the fantasy is in full effect. He is 34 (he is willing to knock it up to 36), I am 32 and we are very happy pinging together. The man is Him 2. 0…there is no other way to describe it and I am done analyzing anything. The way I see it, wherever this leads, at least it is filled with familiar landmarks such as mixed signals, separate delusions and half-assed attempts. He has seen what I consider to be deterrents (and my worst physical flaws) up close and personal…and STILL he comes back. Time after time…now he is trying to wrangle a move back to HQ so we can see each other more (I think there are no hot chicks at the satellite office) and is trying to find his way over in the next few days to “catch a glimpse”.

We have not had our first date yet…he was all over the place with that one but it boiled down to this: WB said he would have followed through but I am the one too heavily into the dating scene…(I did not even bother to correct that statement) and really, I think that is a good thing. It is all we can do to keep the pinging straight (seriously, when I did not ping him for 2 days after that statement, he asked me why was I playing hard to get) and for now, it is all I can handle. I am still learning that curves and rolls can co-exist peacefully, that my smile is still just as great and that for real…age is really just a number. I am learning to be comfortable with men who are comfortable with me and sometimes (if there is a God)…there are no hidden agendas and they are not sad or deranged. Don’t get me wrong, the man is crazy, but at least it’s packaged younger and cuter than in previous times. Neither of us know what we are doing, what we are looking for (or from) with the other but we are trying to keep it in the moment. I don’t know…I still worry and wonder (the demons and I are hugging and each of us is looking for the knife we are certain is about to be plunged in our backs), but for now, it makes me happier, he makes my tummy jump and I am having fun.

So this is it and all for right now…still have to get the post together on Officer Goodbody and I still have two weeks’ worth of laundry that needs to be folded and put away. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as always…enjoy your day! Wishing everyone a lovely Easter weekend and don’t forget to help our girl UTA out!

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The Pros and Cons of Dating Me

With this post, I am officially leaving the 8th grade junior high school homeroom behind. I saw the WB and I as Samantha and Jake from the classic Sixteen Candles but pretty much we were Diary of a Wimpy Kid…middle school at its most embarrassing. The “are we exclusive” question (out of nowhere) from Work Boyfriend was….WOW. Just. WOW. The last time I heard that question, the guy and I actually knew each other (and more than name and job title) , it was our 4th time being together and he had seen both my nakedness and my unpedicured feet. More importantly, we both knew what we were being exclusive about. The fact that WB is asking this question when all we have done is basically hold hands kind of made growing up and rejoining the real world a necessity.

I do like WB, I did want to see where it could go and I was willing to push the issues aside to find out…I even played along with the “what age do you want me to be” game. I aged him at 34, and he said he would keep me at the age I am…32. I so did not correct that .But the combination of mixed signals, crossed wires, both parties not stepping up to the plate to lay cards on the table and the extremes of honesty (I was too honest, he was not honest enough)…I stopped talking….for now. I had to…we are dealing with two types of crazy here (mine and his), a brand new kind of taking things too quickly and more talking would keep the headaches coming. Flirting…best done face to face with NO detours into uncharted waters.

So here is the list of pros and cons of dating me…I was going to do this post long before the WB came along . At the time I was not sure what this list would accomplish, but now I think it will be something I can refer back to when I need help affirming myself and also when I need to be reminded that improvements can be made. I no longer feel silly writing it or that I am putting myself on a dating site (reasons to date me …or not). We all have fantastic, we all have flaws. Recognizing which is which and how to balance it all out is something I need to do for me, not anyone else.

Pros:
Attractive Face: I am not drop dead gorgeous but I do get a fair share of second glances and I suppose I am pleasant enough to look at. In my adult life, I have only been called ugly twice, both times by unnamed, faceless Craigslist dudes. One thing about the stupid ass men I have been with…I was always told how pretty I was and a few have even said I was beautiful. (Reliable One’s ‘almost beautiful” comment does not count), but when I look at who they dated before me and who they dated/married after me…I have to wonder about their taste. So while I may not stop traffic, I damn sure don’t stop clocks.

Accommodating: This one may fall into both lists…it is both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, I see no need to play coy when we both know what we want and like, but on the other hand, what fun is anything if it isn’t challenging? Believe me, when I like and/or love a man, I will treat him like a King, do my best to keep a smile on his face and try to anticipate his every need. It is probably a nice surprise every once in awhile but on a constant basis it is more than likely overkill and tends to go unappreciated. If I could strike that balance of moderation, it could fall into the plus column completely, no problem.

Personality: Hands down, my strongest and most positive trait. It is one of two good things to sprout from my people pleaser tendencies. I have never met a stranger and can have folks I have known 5 minutes spilling their secrets to me. I am the one bestowing compliments, am naturally funny (I can find humor in almost anything when I am in the mood to do so), I am both empathetic and sympathetic and no one on God’s green earth can stroke an ego like I do. I am social, personable and come across as confident and unflappable…until you get to know me.

Domestic: I cook. I clean. I do laundry on a somewhat regular basis. I do all of them very well and can even do them wearing heels and pearls. What man wouldn’t want a woman who keeps a clean house and creates damn good, amazing food (not my words) in the kitchen? Add to that the fact that I am more of a homebody than a run the streets, hit the bar/club every weekend type of gal and I am a low-maintenance, home cooking catch. With clean panties and minimal dust bunnies.

Generous: It is just in my nature to be giving, caring and nurturing. I have given rings from my fingers simply because someone admired them, I give money and food to the homeless and if I have one dollar left, you can get 50 cents of it. With men I like/love, I will do my best to give them the moon. I cook their favorite meals, I buy them gifts, I send jokes when they are depressed, porn when they are horny and Married Man even got money. I remember birthdays, take care of them when they are sick and have been known to send lunches to work and have even treated to dinner. Yeah, for one lucky guy there can be lots of perks and benefits.

Great Lover: Sex is a language all its own, and in the context of a relationship, it says even more. It can say I love you, I want you, I’m sorry, I’m lonely, I’m misunderstood. Sex is also one of the few things I KNOW (without a doubt) that I am good at doing. I am passionate, both sensuous and sexual, a giver and a natural pleaser (the second of two good things to arise from my people pleasing tendencies). I enjoy sex, and do not mind a bit of kink tossed in there. I am oral and tactile and believe in the lost art of foreplay. I can keep up and in some cases, keep going while they are trying to catch up. As Him once put it, I am too good at this.

Cons:
Honest/Forthright: Most people would put this one in the pro/plus column but not the way I do it. There are times I forget to put the filters in place and remember I have common sense and that some questions are simply not meant to be answered. Anyone remember me trying to evade the question from Him about how many men I had been with (after knowing my history) and saying I had been with more women than he had ? Cuz still insists that was the beginning of the end for us. But that is how I am , if you ask me a question I give you the truth and sometimes too much of it and not everyone can handle my story and/or my experiences. I think they can because I can but I have had a lifetime to process it and basically all they get is 10 seconds before I am on to the next topic. I am still learning the process that not everything is for everybody.

Loyal: Again, another trait that should not be a negative, but dogs could learn from me. I am the chick who believes that if we are together in a committed relationship…I got your back. Despite the red flags, the disrespect, the mixed signals, even abuse …I stand by my man. For far too long, when they do not deserve it and when it puts my self-everythings in jeopardy. Believe me when I tell you, love can be blind, stupid, deaf and dumb when it isn’t being a wonderful thing.

Selfish: I enjoy having my own space; I like being able to come and go as I please. I like knowing that everything is where it is supposed to be. If I don’t want to clean, if I want to lay in bed all day topless with no shower…I can do that. If I want to eat all of the pizza without sharing, I like being able to do that. If I don’t want to talk, I don’t. Being in a relationship makes me feel obligated to be perfect..all the time. If we spend the night together, I feel obligated to get up, get showered and get pretty to cook breakfast. Even though I’m not hungry, he may be. If he cooks dinner, I am doing dishes even though all I want to do is lay down somewhere and let bodily functions do what they will. If I cook dinner, I am also doing all the cleanup when all I want to do is let that crap sit overnight. So because I am not indulging in my selfishness, I get resentful and does anyone else remember I am a petty, grudge-holding bitch?

Smoker: Smoking is a deal breaker for a lot of folks, but it is a part of who I am and what I do. I know it makes me a litterbug, it is a slow motion suicide and all the health risks associated with it, but I enjoy it and until I get tired of doing it…it is part of the package. Seriously, unless the white light we see at the end of life is us being pushed through another vagina to start over…we only get one chance to enjoy ourselves and if you want me to be okay with your beer breath, be okay with my tobacco.

Control Issues: They are numerous, they are my worst enemy and sometimes my control issues get out of control. Imagine Adrian Monk mixed with Monica Gellar and escalate it by like 1000 and you have me.

Overweight: This one I am on the fence about because I am comfortable with me as long as the tits stick out past the tummy but when men (visual creatures that they are) are attracted to me..I have to question it. I realize that there are men who are naturally attracted to fuller figured women but they alwaysalwaysalways turn out to be batshit crazy. Or maybe it is just me that attracts the crazy. Who knows? I also realize I am a fetish for some men (I probably fit at least four boxes on their bucket lists and if we get together, I can help them check off four more), but for the most part men in today’s society expect Barbie wearing a size zero… anyone wearing over a size 4 is fat and size 10 is obese. They see overweight women as health risks, lazy with no self-respect or self-control…yet they love the assets that come with extra weight. Hypocrites. Just know that I will never be a single digit dress size and until I figure out a way to keep the assets while losing the tummy..there will extra padding on this body.

So there you have it…a little longer than anticipated but six of each. What about you, readers? Do we share any pros and cons? Anything on my list you would add or detract? Comment or inbox me as I need all the help I can get. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!

A Bad Idea

Dear Work Boyfriend:

YOU are a bad idea. Not you the person, not you the concept of work boyfriend and not even the concept of you as a boyfriend…but for me, you are a bad idea. See, there are things about me you don’t know (and to be truthful, you don’t need to know) but I am coming from a dark and twisty place filled with broken hopes and harsh realities. I am coming from a place where baggage, issues and drama are the norm and sometimes….if those things are NOT present, I create them just so I feel comfortable. And this…this was so not supposed to be whatever the hell it is now.

You are moving too quickly in too many directions….it was a window flirtation, we were playing around and keeping it light. But even at the window, you were saying things I enjoyed hearing. You came with the correct responses and the come hither looks…basically you called my bluff and I liked that. Then you gave up phone numbers and offered dates and the pinging…oh, the pinging. Not quite sure how all of this interaction with limited outside, real life interaction can fluster me, but it does. For a lot of reasons…the first one being you asked me were we exclusive….AFTER hearing from my own lips (fingers) I am a MESS. Dude, we are talking and pinging…where in the world did THAT come from? Exclusive pinging partners? Exclusive flirting buddies? Exclusive work boy/girlfriend? Sexually exclusive? I mean, if you were interested in talking to, flirting with someone else…why ask me? For real, I am NOT your girlfriend and we are in separate offices. The only ones in the office who know of our flirting are the folks in my department because they see it, not because I told them. And then, given the fact that you are vague and all your output can be taken in a variety of ways…who knows what you even meant with the question? Do you want US to be exclusive and we start from there?

I don’t want to question, believe me I don’t but you are vague and random and so que cera cera…and this is why you are a bad idea: because you tempt my mind, pique my curiosity and make me want to shake my spontaneity awake. With you, I can see the exploring the city at night, falling asleep at sunrise and spending a lazy, rainy Saturday in bed with Billie Holiday playing in the background. With you , I can see one night of passion, exploring and pushing boundaries. I can see the FUN in it with you… I have not seen the fun in something like this in a long time. But I have no idea if you are still in window flirtation mode or if you are serious and I have ZERO clue where you are going with this…online, offline, casual hang out, serious LTR. You don’t say, you play coy and I am driving myself crazy because when I do respond to the suggestions, the words you put out there…I second guess which question I am answering because it has three different meanings (or at least three different ways of being looked at…and I warned you I see things differently). I end up feeling as if I have said too much and/or I have answered the wrong question in the wrong way and I feel embarrassed, exposed and vulnerable. And instead of reassurances or gentle corrections from you….I get you asking if we are exclusive. Sweet Jesus.

I have NO idea where you are coming from or where I am supposed to stand with you and I NEEDNEEDNEED to know where you are coming from before I jump in the car with you. I need to know how many passengers are in the car. I want to say I need to know how long the trip is for, but I don’t need to know that. Trust me, I am ready to go under, ready to see where this can go, but you have to talk to me and not in riddles. Please. I am doing my best with breaking away from expectations and trying to figure it all out (there is no fun in knowing how it all ends) but some things are must-haves: honesty and at least some idea of the agenda…trust me, if it IS all harmless flirting and making each other’s day more interesting I am all for that and if it is more to it…hell, I have acted on bad ideas before. Maybe it is time to see the results of what happens when it all seems wrong; Lord knows, it cannot end any worse than when I did everything the right way. But until you can actually explain to me what it is you are doing and which direction your words are coming from…this bad idea can never become a good time.

Red Flags

This is a blog post that is not supposed to be here. God, how long since we have had one of those? But between my emotional implosion (some call it sabotage but I say I went crazy by myself, on myself) my Panel and a man whose idea of taking it slow is a little faster than I am used to and who leaves some of us speechless …here it is. And here we are. This is going to be a long post and potentially convoluted because there is more here than what is on the surface, so consider yourself fairly warned.

Before I get into anything, I have to say I put together a fantastic team to help with the WB Project and I applaud them for taking on more than what was in the job description and what is turning out to be way above their paygrade: Morning Person, Cuz, UTA, Artsy Craftsy, New Mommy, Chef, Oscar (who has a blog post up) and one of my Independent Consultants, Divalicious got dragged into it also. I have no idea how this got complicated, how flirting got fucked up or how two people can both send mixed signals in so short a timespan, but if there is a way to do so…leave it to me and those I fall for to find a way.

First, I have to say I was calmed, soothed, slapped, shushed and shaken when I wrote my last post about how scared I am and how I was letting my issues potentially sabotage what could potentially be a good thing. I know I came across as a Negative Nelly (it was actually referred to as a damsel in distress pity party) and all kinds of hard on both myself and WB but I know me. I know who I attract, what I attract and I also know it is not just limited to men I meet online. After all, I met both Married Man and Him in the real world. I know when something seems too good to be true, it usually is….and a guy like WB is not seeking anything serious or substantial with someone older and who stands out. Say what you want, corporate men go for the cookie cutter types when it comes to the long term. Which was fine…seriously, the man had me re-thinking my stance on FWB (at some point, acronyms should be out of your vocabulary when it comes to personal relationships), but he had to be honest…forget truthful (there is a difference)…just honest.

I was told I was too hard on myself, judgmental, and selfish…it isn’t all about me as we have no idea about WB’s history of heartbreak. The first two admonishments I ignored but selfish? I could get on board with selfish as that is actually on my list of why someone would not want to date me….women (and myself especially) tend to cry and wail and whine and be drama bitches and say the dude is fine, happy, with someone else…when we don’t know. But the better their lives and the happier we (I) make the man out to be, the more of a victim we (I) appear to be. I say this to let you know I simply never see men as having suffered heartbreak. Cause it, yes. Suffer from it…no.

So I said I was going to lay everything out objectively so I could get a handle on things…some people don’t get it because they don’t get me: my story or the way I am is not a result of Him or addiction. My story begins a long time ago and my entire adult life I have been used and abused by men…raped, beaten, lied to and left. No matter how great I was, no matter how hard I worked, no matter that I gave them everything…and no, I do not believe a word they say. I also have trouble reconciling who I am now to who I used to be….I see the girl who wore the same jeans for a month straight, even after having her period (with no tampons/pads) in them; I see the girl who slept on concrete in the winter and took shits in alleys because she was no longer allowed in public places. I know it was a long time ago, but I still see her. Couple that with a disbelief that half a lifetime of the same treatment by different men will be wiped away by the lawyer/business analyst in shining armor….it’s not happening. This job is a blessing, NOT a miracle. So that is my shit…I own that and try so hard not to put it on anyone else but my guards, walls and issues are in place for a reason.

So the WB and I have been pinging since Monday (totally unprotected pinging) and soon after he tells me that we can take it slow if I want, I asked him what exactly were we taking slowly…and got nothing in response. I mean, nothing at all so I went back to work. Then came the questions about dating scenarios…and I asked were we still going out this weekend. He says sure and what did I have in mind? I am thinking interactive museums, movies, Chinese food, maybe bowling…and best part is it is casual, fun, right in his neighborhood and we could groupon everything! Except he doesn’t want to groupon and hang out in his neighborhood (and he lives in a very trendy and happening neighborhood) ….his scenario involved a romantic walk, window shopping and an intimate dinner along the Georgetown Waterfront; I was a little confused…romantic and intimate did not sound like taking it slow; for a chick who up until last week made a living cutting to the chase, slow would be perfect. Slow builds friendships and bonds and makes flirting even better. Then came the question about age…I asked WB how old he was and I swear, I think he is part woman. His response was: however old you think I am , that is how old I am. Really? Then he says he like to play coy and maybe it is me sabotaging myself, but I don’t do coy.

I asked him was it cool if I call him in the evenings (after all, he gave me his number) to find out more about him and see what his hopes and dreams were. He says that we can talk the next day at work and all his hopes, dreams, bucket lists and even trouble were wrapped up in me. Seriously? I saw through it but it bothered me…yes, I will say I initiated the flirting but this dude was going way beyond flirting, at least in my book. First, he was taking it away from the window (the window is a great boundary), and making it suggestive which I have never done, save the joke my co-workers made about Li’l Wayne not having seizures until I got ahold of him. So we were pinging today and we asked each other about our evenings. He said “we” went to dinner and “we” caught the circus parade….and I did not even ask who “we” were because I knew that the girlfriend is still in the picture and probably sharing his roof: no hanging in his neighborhood, no calls in the evening, wanting trouble and risks (to make life more exciting) and say what you will…I have WB being another guy who says what he thinks a woman wants to hear.

Then came the passages that made Divalicious’ head hurt and has Morning Person saying I am still carrying Him around with me, but I say I am carrying around the lessons learned from Him. Who knows? In any case, I tell WB not sure where any of this is going and while I am not against trouble, I am against being hurt. Just be honest. He says I am a mess…and I knew what he meant. A good mess, a fun mess…the fun girl type of mess. And I told him I was a mess and I knew it. Could he handle it? To be truthful, my meaning was double edged because I am a mess AND a mess (he needed to know that if he chose to keep pressing forward with half truths and game-playing) …and he says not to call myself a mess. I am thinking to myself he called me one first and I get the feeling he knew exactly which mess was talking to him when I asked him to just be honest…which is why he responded the way he did. Except, why call a woman a mess when she is asking you to be honest, regardless of which context you are calling her that? Divalicious says I was once again sabotaging myself but I say I am protecting myself as best I can because I see red flags and one thing I have learned is to address the red flags if not avoid them altogether. I told him I was okay being a mess and I see things differently and he said that wasn’t bad…that was cool and he was okay if I was okay. I asked was he ready for messy trouble and he said he could manage, hold his own and keep up. And that was it for today…I needed a break which is another thing some people don’t understand…nothing has happened so what do I need a break from?

I need a break from holding myself back from asking him why he answers things that don’t matter and skip over things that do; why did he have to lie about the girlfriend still being in the picture; why offer up things he has no intention of following through with? Why take the flirting away from the window and push the boundaries? I need a break from the words he speaks that make me melt even though I know they are cheesy lines and outright lies…because even though I wasn’t feeling a certain way about him, I am an emotionally starved woman who has a distorted view of herself and too clear a vision of what men want, and I know it sounds like a broken record…especially what they want from a woman like me. Not sure if my price tag is still visible or if I exude some subconscious something with the flirting but I do I do know this (I should know it, I said it myself)….I am not ready for anything real or imaginary. Yet, I broke my own rules because yes, a cute guy who I thought would never look at me twice gave me his number and exerted some effort. Do you think I don’t want to feel pretty? Trust me, I would like to think that a man who is not physically, emotionally and/or mentally defective would find me attractive enough for the long term. I know WB isn’t the one…I thought he would have been the one to get the ball rolling, but unless he can be honest about what is really going on and what he wants us to take slowly…I can’t do it and my walls are staying up. Trust me, I want more than a mindfuck or endless pings or to be the other woman (again) and with WB, I see myself in all three of those scenarios.

And now, I am done talking and getting it off of me…whoever doesn’t get it, you just don’t get it. Whatever you want to think…do so. I can’t explain it any better or lay it out there any plainer. Maybe it is self-sabotage, maybe it’s protecting myself but the way I see it…mess or not, when it’s right, there will be no red flags and I will know it’s right and they will too. And no, I am not ruling out fun (free sex), but not sure I want to or need to at this point in time. I need to go home, do laundry, have an argument with Morning Person and finish up the post on my dating credentials. I need aspirin, a cold Pepsi…and to ignore the ping I just got.

Raising the Stakes

So, if you read my last blog post, you know that the Work Boyfriend and I have re-connected and he gave me his cell phone number (to actually use) and suggested we go out on a date. Granted, it will be casual, somewhat dutch and involve groupons…but it is something outside the office and not involving defective laptops or an audience comprised of my co-workers. I ended that post with how I was going to bask in the fact that I guy I liked, liked me even when I looked like day old, runover cat crap and I did bask in that…for all of one hour. Then I began questioning his sanity, his motives and have already branded the man as a butt-fuck crazy user who will hurt me once someone better, prettier, younger, etc. comes along. And now my Panel is questioning my sanity because since the man is wanting to go further, take the work out of his title and remove the boundaries/safety nets I put into place (trust me, he is Work Boyfriend for a reason)…I am ready to turn tail and run.

This unexpected turn of events has raised issues and hackles and I swear, it has me feeling and thinking like a 16 year old, NOT like a 46 year old woman with life experience and gainful employment. I have so many things I want to say about it, but it is best summed up thusly: I am comfortable with me, but uncomfortable with others who are comfortable with me (blame esteem and trust issues for that one). Chef told me that I need to loosen up and just go with it…no one is ever ready for the next person (and there will be a next person) once they have landed on somewhat solid emotional ground but at the rate I am going, I am rejecting myself before anyone else has the chance to do so. Oscar gave me the best advice ever: stop worrying about who is in whose league and remember the whole point of the game is to play ballall the leagues play ball and it’s my turn at bat. Hit or miss, just do my best and have fun. Of course, being me, I hear them but I am not listening to them. Yet.

I am still processing the fact that the guy gave me his number and actually asked me out. I wonder could it be possible that my prayers of a man who was younger, decent, intelligent and chill could possibly look at me and realize that my flaws are beautiful also? I wonder if I can calm the hamster wheel I call a brain so it can slow down long enough to allow me to stay in the moment to find out? But most of all, I am wondering just what in the hell happened today…it had me sending emails to Panel members so they could see exactly what was said (I already know without written proof, no one would believe it) and to get feedback. UTA says that it is not all in my head, Artsy Craftsy says we are all back in junior high school passing notes folded in cool shapes, Brother Everything says it is all very interesting (whether in a good way or bad way, we don’t know yet), Morning Person and I had a therapy session and Sister Someone says she can help me take this further than anyone thought possible and she has a wedding planner on speed dial.

Today, I instant messaged the WB. I chose not to call him over the weekend for two reasons: I did not want to appear desperate and I need to find out for sure what the living arrangements are at his house. Another good reason to wait until I was in the office to talk with him was because it put the work back in Work Boyfriend…and we were having a great conversation. He told me he had an excellent weekend that started with a plate of amazing food (and he was coming back for more…I say food but Oscar swears its me), I told him about how my co-workers started picking on me as soon as I walked through the day which made him laugh out loud…and loudly. I told him I was warned to stay away from him as he is trouble and his response was “I am trouble, but you needn’t stay away”. The man floors me and I was at a loss for words for a minute and told him that I liked his thinking but I had no more to say since we were in a professional environment, and WB then comes out the gate with “we can take it slow if you want”. What the hell?

I have no idea where these “challenges” (for lack of a better word) came from….Morning Person insists the man is just flirting back, but she is as nervous as I am; Lunch Buddy says the man has admitted to being trouble….leave him be. I think the man is raising the stakes… those statements are way beyond calling my bluff. He is offering up innuendo and hints of things yet to come…vague promises of whatever I desire with him, from him. It has me wondering what he means, what he wants and why he wants it with me. Let’s face it: I am not as skinny, young or pretty as I used to be. I am a wreck…a 46 year old wreck who was once (correctly) told by a professional therapist that I am in love with the idea of things, not with actually doing said things. Truth is, I am scared…this guy brings with him new hope, new expectations and a fear that I will fall flat on my face once again. I want to stay in the moment and just let things unfold naturally, but the more I do that..the higher the hopes and expectations. Why did he have to say those things? Why say anything? Just stop.talking. I’ll do all the talking.

So this is where we are…with the ball in my court and me wondering when we switched from baseball to basketball. My next blog post is going to be a list of reasons of why a guy would/should want to date me and why he would not…Oscar and Morning Person are so waiting for that one. I will say this: I have never been this nervous, this confused or this whatever it is about a guy…not even Him. I want to enjoy it (whatever it is) for however long it lasts, but my issues are raising hell with me so badly, I am ready to cancel a date that hasn’t even been made yet. Crap.

As always, thanks for stopping past, reading and bearing with me and as always….enjoy your day!

Pick-Me-Up

Have you ever had one of those days? We all have them…the days where you feel fat (hell, you are fat), not quite ugly but certainly not pretty and where the entire world can go to world in a handbasket and you would be perfectly fine with that. Days where you are lethargic and nothing is important. I have been having one of those days for about a week. The Menopausal White Baby has my body getting fuller and thicker and I feel (and look) as if I am carrying a basketball in my tummy, my energy is low and I feel edgy and overwhelmed. My house is on its way to being a wreck, I still have last week’s laundry that needs to be put away before I can get started n this week’s loads because everything is still in the laundry bag and I actually called out from work because I could not muster the energy to even try to get it together.

Yeah, it is starting to get a little serious and I am taking control over what I can: we are back to the eating lighter and healthier, my medical benefits kick in at the beginning of April and we are going to see a OB/GYN ASAP and the arrangements are ending. For real. I have one more date with a repeater who is a true BBW lover (seriously, how can you say you are BBW admirer as long as their belly isn’t big?) and overly generous and when I walk out his door, I am leaving it all behind. I have a job that allows me to pay my own rent (Reliable One has lost his mind: refuses to help me and he is cancelling dates…let him go. No more chasing) and I can no longer allow my esteem, worth and value be determined by men who don’t catch my eye even with money in hand.

But Friday was an incredible day that turned my attitude around and reinforced that I am making the right decisions with taking back control of my life. You guys know I lovelovelove my job, and I was told by my supervisor that she was so happy I was there with them, she was proud of the job I was doing and no way was I going anywhere. So, it was Potluck Day and we were kinda wondering what everyone was going to bring: all we knew for sure was that we had Spanish rice with beans and meat; potato salad with beets (it looked like a big bowl of Barney) and I made tuna salad with pasta and homemade mac & cheese, but the gang pulled through with flying colors. It looked like Thanksgiving Day in the office: in addition to the above mentioned items we had red beans and potatoes; slow grilled spicy chicken breasts; grilled chicken breasts; salmon; shrimp; grilled veggies; homemade breads with assorted cheeses; chips and homemade salsa; fruit tray; bagels, brownies, cupcakes and assorted pastries. We were carbed out and I called it a Diabetic’s nightmare but it was soooo yummy.

It was Fatty Patty Friday and I was ready for it: I wore an extremely comfortable outfit that is actually a size too big…not the most flattering outfit to be sure as big women look bigger in baggy clothes but with the smorgasbord of food and the fact that I am taking on even more responsibilities work-wise, it was the perfect outfit. I was rushing to get to work on time so I forgot to put on my lipstick and my eyeliner and until I actually saw myself in the mirror, I did not realize I was the Plain Jane version of myself. Then I was slightly self-conscious about it, but no one else noticed…I was just me, and they like me. We packed plates to take home some goodies (and no one thought to bring Tupperware…we were filling plates, covering them with another plate and taping them together…we were ghetto and hood with it, for real) and if you had anything left of the food you contributed, you got your pan/pot/bowl back with the food…I had condensed what was left of my dishes into one pan to give to Honeybee and her son. My plate for dinner had some of everything except the Barney potato salad: spicy chicken, shrimp, my mac & cheese, tuna salad, grilled veggies, homemade bread and the Spanish rice.

So at 4pm, I was feeling pretty good: fat and full, secure in the knowledge that my job was safe as long as I did what I was supposed to do and enjoying shooting the breeze with co-workers and my Lunch Buddy (we had to force her to take a plate) when my supervisor came through the door telling me: someone’s here. And I KNEW…the Work Boyfriend!!! and I was ready to light into him…I have not seen the man in about 2 weeks and he was walking past my window/desk without speaking? I turned my back to laugh at a joke one of my co-workers made about a lover’s quarrel and when I turned around…he was there. Looking good. And smiling. And reaching out for my hand.

I totally forgot I was Plain Jane, overweight and that my hair was crooked as I had been scratching my scalp through the wig. Oh, and let’s not forget I am coming down with a cold so my nose was all crusted over with boogers. But WB is looking at me like I am the best thing since sliced white bread, and telling me he missed seeing me but he got transferred from HQ to a satellite office four metro stops away. He was in the office to pick up his business cards and wanted to give me one. I told him I wanted two…why, I will never know. He told me to call him or IM him…he would have “pinged” me first but wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear from him…after dumping him and all. After pinning one of his business cards (he told me I was the first person to get one and he made it sound almost special) to my Wall of Important Documents, I told him I already had his office phone…and he asked for the remaining card back…and wrote his cell number on the back. He called it “old school”. This act prompted open mouths and oohs and ahhs from my department.

He asked how I had been, how was the training coming along and what my plans were for the weekend and suggested we make plans for next weekend. I groupon, he groupons…we could combine groupons and have a nice time outside the office. It could not be this weekend because he is sick and needs to get over his cold (he did sound raspy and was sniffling); my response was: what will your girlfriend say about this? And he came back with something that shut me up…he told me he was unsure who I had been hanging around with, but if the girlfriend were still in the picture, he would not be extending invitations. And that is when my co-worker jumped in, telling WB that he missed the Potluck and my cooking and that I knew how to beat my feet in the kitchen..and WB is looking at me like, really and his eyes fell on my taped up plate of dinner. He said he was hungry and I had to pray on my next move because while I believe in feeding the hungry (especially when I’m not) and it was simply a plate of food, I did not want to offer up gifts so soon and especially when we had not seen or communicated in two weeks…so of course, I gave WB the plate.

The look of surprise and delight on his face can only be described as child-like and he told me (holding both my hands in his) that I always, always overwhelm him. My looks, my personality, my humor…and he always thought I was sweet but my kindness and generosity touched him. He kept offering to give the plate back but I told him the truth: I had eaten way more than my share and I had food in the fridge at home…if he was hungry…eat. By this time, my supervisor is back because it was 5pm and time to close up shop and WB told me to call him so we could set something up for next week, and we are waving and smiling at each other like two idiots. Of course, I am now a nervous wreck and I am going to get into that over the next two blog posts, but today I am going to bask in the fact that a cute guy I have a crush on gave me his number, told me he missed me and never seemed to notice I was a big, fat mess with a plain face and dirty nose. Today, I will not be having one of those days…today, a really cute guy likes me…at my worst.

The Work Boyfriend

One of these days, my trust and validation issues will be under control, my confidence and esteem will be at healthy levels (anything above 10% is welcome at this point) and I will no longer need to have arrangements with short, 70 year old men (in his response, he was 55 and 6 feet tall) who think telling me I look as if I weigh 400 pounds and need a dentist is okay. He actually said this (to my face..in my house) and this is the best part: when I asked him WHY he would say such things, he says it makes him feel better about his weight and diet issues. The man is on weight watchers, yet brags about eating entire pizzas in one sitting…sounds to me as if he needs to practice self-control and it all needs to be centered on his mouth..when he puts in it and what he allows to come out of it. And I need to trust the process and my Higher Power so I can start truly living and enjoying this new chapter of my life without bringing old chapters into it or letting people who can only feel good about themselves by making me feel bad about myself occupy one moment of my time. But that is fodder for another blog post.

So onto the reason for this post: I’m in love…again and not for real, but I have met a guy who makes me giggle, blush and actually bat.my.lashes. I know I have told you all about my office flirtations and that one guy in particular has me ready to lose 50 pounds and make him a man. MY man. I think he is cuter than hell as does UTA, Oscar and Morning Person. Morning Person says he is hands down, the best looking guy I have ever paraded before them (cuter than AFO AND Kiefer, the One Date Wonder)…Oscar (who sent me the most beautiful love letter in response to hers) says he is cute in a dorky way. Honeybee says the man looks like Eddie Haskell (thinking it may be the eyes, mouth and wholesome good looks) and I actually thought of calling him Eddie Haskell, but sticking with Work Boyfriend, now forever known as The WB.

I am working as administrative support/Intake person for an IT department, so I get to see/meet lots of guys…and this place has men that put Abercrombie & Fitch models to shame. Tall, short, muscular, slim, brooding, good looking, straight white teeth…blondes, brunettes, redheads, bald, white, black, Middle Eastern, Latin…for a single girl browsing the market to see what is out there my job is a perpetual Eye Candy Parade. The WB does not fall into this category…he isn’t stop dead in your tracks handsome. He is not exceptionally tall and has an average body type. But he has the best smile and his personality is sweet and quirky with a slightly dark edge to it…and not dark and edgy in a creepy way. More in a he is the guy you would trust to live out slightly kinky fantasies with and the one you would trust to explore different things with. I don’t see him being the gym rat or even that active: he may play soccer or baseball, but I see him as the chill boyfriend who watches your favorite TV shows with you, movies, dinner, bowling, and the type where you could both be in the same room doing your separate things but still feel connected with. (Side note: don’t you just love how I make up lives and personalities for folks I really don’t even know? )

He’s smart and in more than an educated way: when I put him on the spot, he agreed with me that I was very pretty and not fat. Granted, it was a coerced compliment, but you have no idea how many men would still mess that up. Or maybe you do..I know I do not have a monopoly on stupid men. He tells me about his weekend, his work and has even vented frustrations to me about the defective laptop, the real-life girlfriend with the attitude who is on her way out the door and out of his life. He has told me about his siblings, nephews and his parents (who share the same birthday…no lie). He has a great sense of humor and really, when he looks at me I feel like the only person in the room. We both get teased by my co-workers: they want invites to the engagement party and tell me he is finding ways and means and excuses to come see me.

Honestly, I would love to make him my work husband but that requires a lot of things to happen, including a level of commitment that neither of us can handle: we would actually have to be working in the same department, not just the same company. It would involve lunches together, sharing a workload and me doing more than providing a service for something no one ever wishes to have…a defective computer. Besides, right now we cannot even be work boyfriend/girlfriend on a fulltime basis. I have not seen the guy in a week and a half…since he last got his laptop repaired and I kinda dumped him. See, I told him I needed strings at the most and at the least, a guy who wanted to see me, not see who I can get to repair his laptop issues . Of course, the next time I saw him, I was back calling him my boyfriend simply because he was so cute and I was so happy to see him…I clapped my hands together like a little girl at her birthday party and announced to anyone within hearing range: He’s here! He’s here! And he not only allows me to do these things and call him my boyfriend to any and everyone, he gets a little upset when I don’t. It’s weird, but is fun and flirty and for now…innocent and harmless.

The WB does make going to work fun and helps my day go by a little more smoothly when he shows up, but lately the Eye Candy Parade has had some new members that have left me with my mouth hanging open and wishing I were a 25 year old blonde who works out and jogs on Saturday mornings so maybe I don’t need to be tied down with anyone, real or imaginary. I am collecting WBs left and right…my co-workers say I am starting up a harem, but they know who my favorite is. It has been suggested I IM him but that would make it serious somehow…and serious with ME being the pursuer. Not going to happen…the last two men I pursued (Him and AFO) have shown me that since I have zero idea what and who is worth pursuing, I need to wait and see if someone finds me being worth their time and effort. But I am in no rush for that from anyone…being single can be fun and even better when you are just browsing the merchandise…one does not have to make a pitch or purchase right off the bat, do they? I like the conversations I have with the WB, I do enjoy seeing him come around but there is no liking or loving going on…I just heart him, which in my book is the equivalent of school girl crush…there will be no pursuits over school girl crushes.

Well, this I do hope you enjoyed something light, fluffy and different for a change. A always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual….enjoy your day!