Ok, so I’ve talked a little about my dating experiences thus far. And trust me there’s even more to be said on the subject. So much so that I don’t even know where to start.

And bcuz of everything that’s happened so far, I’ve adopted a new way of handling responses to my online profile. At least I can control that, right? RIGHT?

So here goes…

I look at the guy’s profile first. BEFORE I read his message.

And if his profile says that he’s looking for a relationship?

DELETE.

Yep. That’s it. End of the line. He doesn’t even get a courtesy read. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Hasta la vista baby.

Cuz really, what’s the point? He’s clearly lookin for something I’m not able to give. I mean, HELLO. My divorce has been final for A MONTH. Why start a conversation with him only to have to eventually tell him I’m just not in that kind of place right now?

Exactly.

And don’t even get me started on why they think it’s a good idea to even send me a message in the first place when my profile specifically says that I’m NOT LOOKING FOR ANYTHING SERIOUS.

But I digress.

So…

I get a new message today. And I almost click to read it.

But I stop just in time and click to view his profile instead. And it says that he’s looking for a relationship. Long-term. So yeah, no.

I go back to delete the message. But the subject line stops me. It’s totally different from the “Hi” or “Hello” I usually get. I think it can’t hurt to read the message.

So I read it.

He introduces himself and then asks if I have room for a new friend. Nothing creepy. Nothing stoopid.

And now I don’t know what to do.

Do I stick to my guns and delete the message? Or do I send a reply?

Any suggestions?

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.

So tired of daughter’s half-ass attitude.

**********
Wanna join in the 6WS fun? Check this out.

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?

So the recruiter told me today that he wants to recommend me for a 2nd interview.

And I’m trying not to get my hopes up.

Yet.

*****

Lemme back up a bit.

After being laid off at the end of February, I didn’t rush to start looking for a job. I didn’t have to. I was receiving a decent severance paid bi-weekly, just like a regular paycheck. Plus the job market here sucked ASS. So what was the point of putting myself out there, only to be slapped in the face every time I turned around?

Exactly.

*****

So now it’s a few months later and the severance is running out.

And the lease on my townhouse is running out.

And I got a letter yesterday that the owner of the townhouse is listing it for sale and I’m supposed to give my 30-day notice.

And I can’t move to a new place until I have continuing income.

(Have I mentioned that I hate moving? Well, I fucking hate it.)

And I haven’t gotten any response on the resumes I have sent out so far.

And I’m FREAKING OUT.

But…

I got an email on Tuesday from a recruiter that found my resume on Monster for a possible data entry position. I called him yesterday and expressed my interest in the position. I had my 1st interview today, which I hope will get me a 2nd interview with the hiring manager next week.

The interview went well. I think.

They are looking to fill 2 positions. The recruiter hopes to call tomorrow to arrange 2nd interviews for the beginning of next week. He also said the goal is to make offers by the end of next week.

It would be really REALLY great if this job worked out. Y’all are rooting for me, right?

The phone beeped in my ear.

You know, that tell-tale sound announcing that someone is calling on the other line.

Except, I didn’t even want to look and see who was calling. Whoever it was could just wait until I was through with the call I was on first.

But, I was curious. Who was calling me? I should peek at who it is.

So, I pulled the phone away from my ear.

*sigh*

It was my attorney.

I was expecting this call. And dreading it.

After the last conversation I had with the husband, I knew this call wouldn’t be good. I knew my attorney was calling to advise me the areas that the husband said he was going to contest. And probably advise me that there were even more now.

I really didn’t want to talk to him. So, I let the call go to voicemail. I would deal with it later.

I finished the call I was on and then decided to check my voicemail. The message started simply enough:

Stacey, this is Johnny Cochran. I have some bad news. The glove fits. You’re screwed.

Oh, wait. Sorry. That was a dream I had last night.

Here’s how it REALLY went:

Stacey, this is JH.

(Yeah, and?)

Give me a call when you get this message.

(Ugh. Do I have to? I really don’t wanna hear what you’re gonna tell me. I mean I already know, but I still don’t wanna hear it again.)

I got the papers in the mail.

(Um, don’t you mean you got a copy of his response?)

They’re all signed and ready to go.

(Wha?)

So just give me a call when you get this.

(What. Did. You. Say?)

Talk to you soon.

(I know I didn’t hear you right. I can’t have heard you right.)

Bye.

(Wait…WHAT?????)

I immediately called my attorney back and told him I was shocked to hear that the papers were signed. He said that he was too.

And I was still half waiting to wake up and realize this was a dream. Or for someone to jump out and tell me I was on Candid Camera.

I found out that I had one more document to sign (so I don’t have to physically appear in front of a judge) and I made an appointment to get that done.

By the end of the conversation, my voice was thick with emotion. I hung up the phone and the tears that I knew were coming started to fall.

It’s over.

It’s really over.

He’s not contesting.

No more fighting.

I can’t believe it.

I continued to cry. For the end of my marriage. For the fear of being a single mom again. For the unknown future.

Mostly, I cried because I was so geared up for the fight I expected and it wasn’t gonna happen now. It was a huge shock.

But it was also a huge relief.

So, he has the papers now.

And you would think that would allow me to finally talk about it, right?

WRONG.

I have been waiting (not so) patiently to scream talk about the divorce. Waiting until he received the papers. Because he didn’t know I had retained an attorney. To protect myself, he couldn’t know.

And now that he knows? Not much has changed. I still can’t really talk about it right now.

I CAN say that it’s not going well. But, I also recognize that it could be a whole lot worse.

And I’m grateful that it’s not.

I need help. No, other than the obvious help we ALL KNOW I need. I need hair help. And I’m turning to y’all for advice. Cuz I’m desperate I trust you.

My relationship with my hair is volatile. And cyclical. I grow it out, get fed up with it, chop some (or all) of it off, grow it out, get fed up with it, chop it off….. you get the picture. And often during one of these cycles I get a wild hair up my ass to change the color. And proceed to fuck it up beyond repair. How in the hell did I manage to not make it all fall out? Your guess is as good as mine. And now that I’ve said that, it will all fall out just to spite me. I can just hear it now:

Think you managed to dodge a bullet by not having me fall out from all the damage you’ve done to me? And just what do you think those hairs you find in the sink and all over your clothes ARE? That’s just the beginning if you don’t start respecting me BITCH!

Wow. Did you just get the chills? I did. I might be in serious trouble, so you need to HELP. ME. PLZ. And fast.

My most recent hair cycle has lasted over 3 years. Yep you read that right. I have not cut my hair (other than a trim here, an inch there) for 3 years. Now, don’t get all excited. You should know that my hair growth is sooper dooper SSSLLLOOOOOWWW. And after all that time, my hair doesn’t even reach my bra strap in back right now. Which might not be saying all that much since my boobs are migrating south for more than just the winter.

So, this is me today (or more accurately, yesterday):

It’s longer in the back, but I suck at taking pictures of my front, so I’m not going to even try to take pictures of my back. And I promise that nothing’s changed since yesterday. I did NOT go all hari kari on my hair in a fit of frustration last nite. But that totally sounds like something I would do, doesn’t it?

Anyway, I look at my hair &….. there’s just something off about it. It just looks WRONG. But I can’t pinpoint what the problem is. Is it too long? Should I part it differently? Does it just plain need a style overhaul? I have no idea.

I’ve fought with my hair for most of my adult life bcuz I was under the assumption that I have a round face shape. Lately, I’m not so sure that I really do have a round face. I’m starting to wonder if I don’t just have a fat oval face shape (which is great cuz like I need ANOTHER part of me to be fat *SIGH*). And this is one aspect where I could use a second (or a hundredth) opinion. Help!

There is one thing I should get outta the way. Short hair is not an option. I repeat, SHORT HAIR IS NOT AN OPTION. I fought every urge I had to shave my head over the past 3 years, bcuz of this:

I hate this picture. And don’t tell me I look good, cuz I know better. And this would not be one of the important times when I need you to lie to me.

So, here’s where I turn to you and ask, “What are your thoughts?” Good or bad, I wanna know. Really.

No, REALLY.

BUT, before you decide whether you want to help this crazy person, here are some helpful hints:

• My hair is fine. Not fine as in good, cuz I just got thru telling you the exact opposite. Fine, as in baby hair fine thankyouverymuchmomanddad. It has a mind of its own too. If I want it to curl one way, it will curl the other way, or not at all. And I swear I can hear laughing while all that’s going on.
• I like easy hairstyles. Styles that don’t require me to spend an hour in the bathroom with a flat iron, curling iron, and every hair product under the sun to achieve the perfect coif. I like styles that are as close to blow-dry-and-out-the-door as possible (which I’m sure I’ll have to abandon once I get outta Utah’s dry climate).
• My hair does NOT like to hold a curl. And bcuz of this, any curling iron larger than 1″ is outta the question. I have to use a 1″ curling iron or smaller to get curls that look like they came from big velcro rollers or large-barrel curling irons. And those curls? Last about 2 hours. If I’m lucky.
• I have the best stylist. EVER. She has hair just like mine, so she knows all about my frustrations. She also does exactly what I ask. And I love her for that.

So, think you can help me out? I would be ETERNALLY grateful.

And I’m not opposed to bribing you with alcohol. Or sexual favors.

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.

I am in my last week of work. Four more days until I am officially laid off. Is it bad to say that I already wish it was over?

I received my separation packet last Friday. I was totally fine while the HR rep went over the agreement. That was until he thanked me for my professionalism regarding the lay off. Which made me start thinking, “Well HELL how am I supposed to act it’s not like I didn’t know this was coming for a YEAR NOW and can we just get this over with, cuz I don’t wanna have to think about this right now I have to go deal with my daughter’s first weekend visitation with her father and I HAVE to be home right now and OMG I’m gonna be without a job and divorced and what the FUCK am I gonna do I’ll be an outta work divorcee student with a daughter at home who will be hitting puberty soon enough and I’M TOTALLY FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW BUT I REFUSE TO LET YOU SEE ME CRY MOTHERFUCKER!”

Yeah, he really doesn’t have a clue how close he came to being stabbed right then. Prolly for the best.

**********

It’s been a week since I made the husband move out. How am I doing? Well, I’m handling it. That’s all I can do right now. Take each day as it comes, knowing that some days will be better than others. School will keep me busy, especially starting next week when I won’t be going to work anymore. And I have a long to do list that I plan to make a huge dent in. Finally.

I’m staying strong for my daughter. Even though she is dealing with it fairly well so far, I know this is hard for her. She was understandably upset when her father moved out. And she was sad after her first visitation with him bcuz she felt she didn’t get to spend enough time with him. I completely understand that. I tell her that it’s okay for her to feel sad, angry, etc. about the situation. I tell her that none of this is her fault and that her father and I love her VERY MUCH. I tell her that I’m here for her to talk to about anything. Anytime.

I am amazed with the changes in me I have already seen. The past two years I was hiding more and more at home. Hiding from the tension. Hiding from being hurt. Hiding from him. And I was losing myself in the process. I feel I am coming back now, though, and it feels really good. I know I will stumble occasionally, but I am definitely moving forward. Forward is good.

**********

Friday was the Elton John/Billy Joel concert at the Energy Solutions Arena (which I don’t care what you say, it will ALWAYS be the Delta Center to me). The concert was originally scheduled in November, but had to be postponed bcuz of illness (Damn old men, WTH? Never mind we partied it up big time anyway WITHOUT YOU. So there!).

The show? Well, it was AWESOME!!!!!

We started out in nosebleed seats. They were totally fine cuz the sound was great and they had a screen set up above them so you could see a little better on that when they showed them. But then, Sarah’s dad got us down on the floor. YAY SARAH’S DAD! Y’all are jealous now. I know. Billy played one of my favs of his songs, Allentown, and the two of them played one of my fav Elton songs, The Bitch is Back (which means more than they will ever know right now ). Michelle and I sang pretty much all the songs (loudly of course) and it was a blast. And I will never forget Billy Joel talking about how he always wanted to “mess up” Marie Osmond when he once used the Osmond studio for rehearsals. And if you’re thinking oh no he di’int? Oh yes he did. LOL

I haven’t gone through all the pictures yet, but here’s one of Billy and Elton together on the screen.

Did I mention that the concert was just plain AWESOME? Yeah, well, it’s worth repeating. Trust me.

**********

So. I’ve been hit with a lot of spam comments on my blog for almost a week now. I know I’ll never come close to dooce or The Bloggess, but does this mean I’m getting closer to being in the big leagues?

No? Oh, ok. I’ll keep working on it then. j/k