Is it too soon for me to play this game?

We shall see…

*****

*theme song*

WELCOME TO THE DATING GAME!

Host: Our next bachelorette is a 40-year old 2-time loser divorcee from Utah, who likes music, movies, camping, and crafts, feels horny alone, and feels the need to get laid get back out there. Please welcome…STACEY!

*applause*

Host: So, Stacey. You’ve signed up on a couple of online dating sites.

Me: Yes I have. (No, I’m not gonna tell you which sites I signed up on. And no, it wasn’t eHarmony, cuz they have this tiny little ANNOYING quirk that your divorce has to actually be FINAL before they will let you become a member. And it wasn’t yet. Assholes.)

Host: You’ve survived the challenges of creating a username (eliciting help from a friend who has experience in online dating, laughing at every suggestion she came up with, and in the end choosing an absolutely retarded safe name), completing your profile, uploading a picture, and writing your description.

Me: *nervous laugh* Y-yes.

Host: And you’re not looking for anything serious?

Me: That’s correct. I just want to meet new people and have some fun.

Host: Well great! Let’s get to know the bachelors then!

Me: Bachelor #1, you have a really nice smile.

B1: Thanks.

Me: How would we get to know each other better?

B1: Well, we would start by e-mailing each other while you are in Vegas for the weekend with friends. After a few great e-mails, you would give me your cell number.

Me: Sounds good.

B1: We would start texting each other and those would be good too. I’d even suggest that we go dancing so that we can fix your out-of-practice 2-step. We would trade pictures and your friends would tell you I’m cute.

Me: I like that.

B1: And on the day you’re going back home I would ask if you made it back to the hotel before dawn. Then I would comment that your trip couldn’t have been all that great if you didn’t gamble and didn’t hook up with anyone.

Me: Oh……ok.

B1: We would continue to trade texts for a few hours while you are driving back home. And then I would just stop texting. For no reason. And when you send me an email a few days later, I won’t respond.

Me: ………

B1: And to top it all off, a week later, I’ll include you in a generic holiday greeting I send to all my contacts. That spans 7 text messages.

Me: Well, you would only have been the 1st I’ve met, so cute or not, I won’t let you discourage me. But you should know that I would think you’re an asshole. I’m just saying.

Me: Bachelor #2, same question.

B2: Have you had any luck yet?

Me: Not yet. I’m new to this. What about you?

B2: I’m new too.

Me: So how would we get to know each other better?

B2: Sex.

Me: Wha?

B2: Sex. You want sex, right?

Me: (YES!) No, that’s not what I’m looking for. (That’s good. Sound innocent so he won’t think you’re a ho.)

B2: Well, it’s been over a year for me. And I’m a nice guy. And you’ll get an orgasm.

Me: (Which means you’re prolly an axe murderer. And it shouldn’t matter that it’s been over a year for me too.) Mmmm… (Oh shit. Did I say that OUT LOUD?)

Me: Bachelor #3.

B3: Pick me! Hint hint.

Me: What would be your idea of a good first date?

B3: Well, after trading some text messages, I would suggest that you should invite me over for a drink, cuz you clearly need ice or…something. You would invite me over, we would have a few drinks, talk, and get to know each other.

Me: That sounds nice.

B3: At the end of the date, I would act confused on whether I should shake your hand, hug, or kiss you. You would offer me a hug, and I would not let you go very quickly, even though you try to pull away. I would insist on quite a few more hugs before I leave, too.

Me: Um……

B3: After I got home, I would text you pictures of my cats and tell you I wish I had gotten even more hugs from you. Then I would text you just about every day (including more cat pics) and tell you I miss your company. And your liquor cabinet.

Me: Making me wish you would lose my number. Like yesterday. The people I text every day are those that I’ve known for a couple of DECADES. Not a couple of DAYS. Btw, can I get your last name? I need it for the restraining order.

*****

Perhaps it is too early for me to be playing this game.

P.S. It’s taken me forever to finish writing this.

P.P.S. I keep having to stop writing and start drinking.

P.P.P.S. To try to forget.

P.P.P.P.S. That Bachelor #3 WON’T. STOP. TEXTING. ME.

P.P.P.P.P.S. I think I might put Bachelor #2 on speed dial.

1. The 2nd interview yesterday went well. I think. Keep your fingers crossed for me. And toes. And maybe even your eyes. And hell, if you can cross your bewbs, do it. I need all the help I can get. And know that I’m not opposed to using bribes to get this job.

2. SLCC must have heard all my bitching about their web design degree req’s. Cuz the new catalog now includes a couple of art classes that focus more on the digital design aspect. Yep. I totally made that happen. And I didn’t even have to give a blow job.

3. I’m putting together a playlist of really good sex songs. You know, for when I actually have sex again. With someone else, that is. Recommendations are welcome. For songs. Oh…OK. I’ll consider partner recommendations too.

4. I think my blog needs an overhaul. And I don’t think my skills are quite there yet. So if you stop by, and it’s a bright purple background with neon green text, bear with me. I’m still learning. And the spots you see will eventually fade. I promise.

5. I bought new sheets, a new comforter, new pillows, new shams, and even a brand new mattress. And I STILL wake up stuffed up. Every. Damn. Morning. I give up.

6. I still have to think before I introduce myself, especially when I’m on the phone. You would think that the 20 years I went by my maiden name would override the 14 years I went by my married name. Oh, and GUESS WHAT? If you shorten my name, I’m sPad. Fucking awesome.

7. If I have it my way, I’ll be partying with all the hotties at BlogHer@Home in my new place. And I’ll be KIDLESS that weekend! I can’t wait! Now I just gotta find someone to bankroll my booze.

8. Dating. Fucking. Sucks. Or maybe it’s just that dating in Utah that sucks. No. I’m pretty sure dating bites the big one globally. I think I’m gonna need more alcohol to get through this. Or even just to get through the post I’m writing about my experiences thus far.

9. Coming up with 10 things is HARD. I think I may need more caffeine. In the form of Starbucks of course.

10. 2 packed boxes is NOTHING in the grand scheme of things. I still have a shitload of crap to pack. So, if you’re heading out my way, and have a death wish wanna help, I would be more than happy to help you out (we have lots of high places here) SOOO grateful to have you here. Oh, and I have beer. And wine. And liquor. Did I mention that I have no trouble resorting to bribes?

Bet you wish you knew what’s 1st and 2nd.

Two semesters down. I can’t believe it.

I still have a looooong way to go. But so far, so good.

I KNOW, right?

I wasn’t surprised about the first two classes. I knew I did well in those.

But the last one?

I just about shit a purple twinkie. Yes, a pretty, sparkly, purple one. And then I started giggling hysterically.

You see, I wasn’t expecting anything higher than a C in that class. By my choice.

Why you ask?

Cuz the professor was a fucking moron. That’s why. And I was making a statement. And then I reamed him on the course eval. And it sounded like I wasn’t the only one since the professor said the class was gonna be taught differently next semester.

Now why couldn’t that have happened for MY class? *sigh*

**********

So now it’s time to work on my financial aid application for the next school year. And then to decide what classes I should take.

Hmmm…..

My daughter’s birthday is tomorrow.

She is turning 11.

She goes back on track at school tomorrow. On her birthday. After two weeks off.

We haven’t planned her birthday party yet. Bcuz she was off track for the past two weeks and couldn’t give out invitations. And bcuz she wants to go to the skating rink again this year. When last time only one kid actually showed up for the party. ONE. So I’ve been asking her to think of other options so that she won’t be disappointed when one kid (or none for that matter) shows up again this year. But she just thinks that I’m the worst mom in the world for pissing on her brilliant plan.

She got a present from her father. But not from me yet. I haven’t even gone shopping for her present. I don’t even have a clue of what to look for right now.

And on top of everything, I had to get on her case today bcuz she is acting more and more like her father every day (which is not a good thing, I promise).

I’m thinking this is gonna be the best birthday EVAH.

You know how it is. You go through a major life change (or multiple changes cuz the Universe has a snarky sense of humor that way) and you ask yourself, “What is REALLY important to me right now?” So you take time to look at your priorities. And often you find that they need some rearranging.

But, of course, that would be after…

…you spend a day (or twenty) staring out the window wondering, “What the fuck am I gonna do now?”

…you spend the next day getting totally drunk cuz you don’t have an answer to that question, and getting drunk sounded like a better thing to do that day. And the next day. And the day after that.

…you consider selling your soul to the devil for that perfect life you always wanted. Which is never perfect anyway, cuz there’s no such thing, and then you’ve lost your soul, so you chuck that idea in the trash.

…you slap yourself HARD, pick yourself up by your bootstraps, put on them big girl panties, and realize you need to take each day as it comes, focusing on ALL the positive things you have in your life. And there are A LOT.

**********

So. Have you guessed yet that I’m looking at my priorities? I sure am. And I’m making changes.

Some things have definitely moved down the list. Things like pedicures and waxings (but I might need to reconsider that last one cuz the hairs on me that aren’t light blond and practically invisible just plain BUG ME), eating out (don’t get me wrong, it still happens, it just happens a lot less now), and wondering so much about the end of the hostage crisis. It will end when it’s supposed to, right?

Here are some of the items that are still a high priority for me:

• My nails. Yeah, I moved pedicures down, but I can’t give up my acrylic nails. I just can’t. Bcuz if I stop getting my nails done, I will have no nails. NONE. Where will they go? In mah belleh, that’s where. And… um… can we just forget I said anything about that? kthanx
• Working hard in school. I have always regretted not going to college when I was younger. My second semester (part-time so don’t go gettin your hopes up just yet) is nearly finished and I am ecstatic with my progress. I think I’ll keep it up.
• Friends. ALL of them. The local ones, long-distance ones, and even the online ones. You have seen me at my worst AND my best and love me anyway. And I love you right back. xoxoxoxoxo

And then there is what will always remain top priority…

This week it’s a shallow Six Word Saturday for me. With a picture no less!

Got nails done. Aren’t they purty?

Ok, so here’s one that might redeem my shallowness. Possibly. But I won’t hold my breath.

Excited for daughter starting soccer today.

**********
I know y’all wanna join in the fun with us, so click here to get more info on Six Word Saturdays.

I’m concerned with how big the word fucking is. Sorta.

And now I just made it worse. Oye.


**********
Click here to get your own Wordle.

I love to sing. Really, I do. And I sing All. The. Time.

I sing around the house. I sing in the shower. I even sing in my car. And dance. And let me tell you, I have caused the near crash of like eleventy thousand cars from my car dancing. Cuz it’s full of teh awesome. Or seriously disturbing. I haven’t figured out which one quite yet. A friend and I were going country line dancing one night and Watermelon Crawl was on the radio. Well, this hot guy in a truck behind us got a front-row seat to our car dancing and loved it so much that he had to pull alongside us and flirt for a bit. On the freeway. At 65 mph. *sigh* Good times.

This was of course back before the Earth’s crust cooled, cuz you would never…..NEVER…..see me country line dancing now. That girl…you know the one you saw last week/month/year recently at that country bar that looked suspiciously like me? Yeah, you might wanna get your eyes checked cuz it was most definitely prolly not me.

Anyway… I bet you’re wondering whether my singing sounds like nails on a chalkboard or is akin to hog calling. Or perhaps you’re thinking that since I was blessed with such awesome car-dancing skillz, that there’s no way my voice could top that.

Well you would be wrong.

I can sing. Quite well, actually.

I was in the choir when I was younger. I performed in school shows. As I got older, though, band became the priority in my life and singing in the choir just couldn’t compete. Plus I couldn’t sight read vocal music (still can’t), so there was no way to get back into it later on. But I didn’t stop singing altogether. And there were people out there who knew I could sing. A friend of mine tried putting together a band in high school and wanted me to be the singer. But it didn’t happen. Wanna know why?

Bcuz I get SO nervous singing in front of strangers. And I shake. Bad. You can hear it in my voice. I’m not talking about the vibrato that you hear when people sing normally. It’s much worse than that. And then my pitch goes out the window. It doesn’t matter if I can sing the song perfectly alone or among friends. In front of strangers, I end up sounding like a pubescent boy sitting in a massage chair set at level 1,000,000.

Now here’s the funny part…

Y’all ever heard of this thing out there called karaoke? Yeah, well, I’m thinking of gathering a lynch mob to go after WHOEVER THOUGHT THAT CRAP UP. It is evil. EEEEEVVVVVIIIIILLLLL. And it is the epitome of temptation for me.

Shut. Up. We aren’t even talking about sex right now. FOCUS PEOPLE.

I love karaoke. But I have issues singing in front of strangers. So I’m sure you can understand why I must stab the person who purposely created something to force me to sing in front of strangers and then made me fall in love with it. Hard. And yes, I have a karaoke machine. And yes, it’s collecting dust in my garage as I write this. Why? Bcuz it’s EVIL. Didn’t I make that clear before? Moving on.

I can sing around friends and family. And I’m ok. Not perfect. But ok. It’s casual and I don’t feel too nervous around them. But around strangers…FORGET IT. The last time I sang karaoke in front of strangers? O.M.F.G. We are so NOT going there. Suffice it to say, it was AWFUL. And I seriously doubt that taking away the massive amounts of liquor I had that nite would have made any difference whatsoever.

So, I will never be a superstar. And I’m ok with that. And y’all are much better off anyway.

Trust me.

**********

P.S. Let me know if you are interested in getting a car dancing tutor. I’m more than willing to share my skillz.

I wanna apologize. I haven’t shown my face around here for a while now. And I’m not happy about it. Not one bit.

I’ve been struggling with writer’s block lately. Sure, I’ve had it before. Small amounts of it, anyway. This latest bit, though…has been bad.

Bcuz of the… *looks left. looks right.* …(whisper) the ‘D’ word.

It’s not going well. And we haven’t even filed yet. Yeah, I hear y’all saying “Does ANY divorce go well?” And immediately, my naivete screams “FUCK YEAH IT DOES! You just have to work at it.” Which is why I keep that part of me drowning in booze. Cuz she’s almost as annoying as my conscience. Almost.

I have actually wanted to talk about it. Really, I have.

No, REALLY.

The few times I have tried to get it out, though, I feel overwhelmed. Everything comes to the surface. So many thoughts. So many emotions. I might get out a sentence. Or two. And that’s it. End of story. But usually? I get nothing.

Nuh-thing.

I can’t even begin to put together a cohesive thought. It’s so frustrating. And when you add fear to the mix (yeah you read that right), it just becomes a big fucking mental mess.

Yeah, I know I’m being vague. I’m sorry. I hate that I feel I have to be vague. I should be able to say what I want here. This is MY GAWD DAMN BLOG. But I can’t. I can’t even joke about it, bcuz I’m certain that my words will be misconstrued. Used against me. I’m fairly certain that even what I’ve written in this post will cause trouble. And I haven’t even really said anything. *banging head on desk*

I mean, y’all know I’m totally full of shit. But to someone looking in from the outside, who doesn’t know me? Or someone who wouldn’t think twice about being a… well, you know (insert favorite expletive here). Yeah, that’s a whole different story altogether.

Once the dust starts to settle, though, I WILL write about it. Until then, I’ll continue to put one foot in front of the other (I’m really showing my age with this link, so you should totally check it out).

I thank you all so much for your patience with any long bouts of silence I may have here. Especially if they’re followed by a sappy, ranting, bitchfest, that leaves you wondering, “Why the hell did I EVER start reading her blog?” Y’all are fucking awesome.