looking foolish

Half the girls bailed. But the other half of us enjoyed our wine immensely. Boys were the main topic of discussion, with the majority of us not yet married.

We talked about our recent boy stories. When the topic turned to mine, they teased me for getting so excited about the new boy. So excited for a boy who has yet to actually call, only texts. Whose house I've not seen, who hasn't been to my house.

Then my friend at work warned me today to be careful. To try not to get hurt. Perhaps they were all picking up on something I am not.

Minutes later, he bailed on our plans for tonight. Plans hatched weeks ago. Finalized last weekend.

He maybe has a great excuse. But I hate flaky more than anything else. Well, except for maybe looking foolish in front of my friends.

just me

I walked down the same sidewalk I'd walked down a hundred times before. The colors were more vivid. The sounds more clear.

I hitched TheDog to a tree and grabbed my steaming cup of addiction.

I missed the days of sitting on the patio with TheDog. Perhaps they'd allow her back soon. But in the meantime, I unhitched her and we walked away.

A block up there's a bench. Near a restaurant. One that is fortunately not open at that hour of the morning.

We sat, TheDog and I, for a while. TheDog was enjoying the cooler weather and occasional pets. I was enjoying my coffee, not reading, not writing, just pondering.

Despite the organizational disaster that is my house, despite the mountain that is my inbox, despite the wreck that is my back, I was calm. I was serene.

I was myself again. Mostly.

dilemma

Compromise is important in any relationship. Everyone knows that.

Although I'm a little set in my ways, I can compromise when necessary. Well, depending a little on what the compromise is.

I refuse to compromise on things that are really important to me. The right guy wouldn't ask me to compromise on those things. Right?

Well, after my beer and boy induced grinning, I had a dream. One in which the new boy told me it was either him or TheDog.

I woke up with a knot in my stomach. He wouldn't really do that, would he?

He loves dogs. Had them growing up. Had one of his own until recently when he figured out he was allergic to them.

I know I'm getting way ahead of myself here, but if thing works out*, what would I do?

I can't imagine not having a dog. Ever.

* Who am I kidding? Things never work out as I hope they might.

distraction

I was working when he asked if I could join he and his friend for a beer. I knew I should be the good employee and keep working. In the past, with the others, I would have just said exactly that.

Instead, I worked until I got to a good stopping place and met them out.

I was stressed and frazzled when I got there. But within minutes I was laughing and relaxed.

I keep telling myself to not get overly excited. That a few dates does not amount to much. But sometimes my cool* is betrayed by the grin on my face.

* Not that I really have any cool. I like to think I can fake it sometimes though.

bright side of life

My stomach hurts after this weekend. In a good way.

I laughed so hard at points that my muscles hurt a little. Yes, perhaps I need to add a few more sit-ups to the list.

But before the laughter started, my Friday started off with a visit to a new doc for my back. He has new ideas. He thinks there may be something they can actually do to help the constant pain.

As with other things, I'm trying not to get too excited, before all the facts are in. But it was an encouraging visit.

The whole office left work early. Well, early for our office. Those that weren't out of town headed to a coworkers for a bbq. The weekend laughter began over beers and homemade salsa.

I then headed to Oktoberfest with friends, one of whose Aussie boyfriend had us all chuckling all night long. Particularly anytime he neared the mechanical bull.

When we met up with the new boy, my smile only slightly faded when his "friend" was a girl. And that small concern evaporated when he saw me, walked up to me and kissed me.

The rest of the night was filled with a bit of sarcasm, self-deprecation, and making fun of anyone in a chicken hat.

Saturday was spent cheering on the home team to a shut-out along with good friends and family. Telling humorous remember when stories in the parking lot afterward.

After dinner with teh parents, I started to get ready for the parties I was supposed to attend. But once I sat down, I realized just how exhausted I was, and bailed on both parties, only to watch some silly comedy on cable.

Today I enjoyed some quality time with TheDog and the mess that is my closet. TheDog possibly questioning my sanity as I giggled to myself at the "treasures" I found lurking in the depths.

Tonight, my mom, sister and I headed downtown for dinner and a trip to Spamalot. At points tears leaked out we were laughing so hard.

I usually dread Sunday nights a little, as Monday morning looms. I'm only slightly closer to finishing the projects whose deadlines have passed than I was Friday, but I'm not concerned.

Perhaps I am beginning to take Sir Arthur and his singing knights' always look on the bright side of life to heart.

a little bit crazy

Out to dinner tonight with my roommate of only one more night, I realized I've become a bit more neurotic than had previously been thought. By myself, by anyone, really.

As the very nice, very knowledgeable waitress brought our sangria and tapas, I kept hoping to hear from possibly new boy.

As I remembered our conversation from the other night, we were supposed to hang out tonight. But silence was all that greeted me.

And it bothered me.

I'm the girl that calls a boyfriend of several months only a guy I hang out with. More than once. I'm never the needy girl. I like space. Usually.

This one is different. When he told me the other night that he missed me when I was away last weekend, I didn't freak out as I normally do.

Without hesitation I said, me too.

In the past his statement would have scared me. My uttering the reciprocal would have had me worrying what he thought.

Neither were the case.

I was just happy to be sitting there, drinking beer on a beautiful Fall night, with a boy I like.

But this new development. This being concerned when it's been a day since I've heard from him. This, I don't like. The worrying whether he's not as taken with me. That he might be out with someone else. It's crazy.

By the end of our glasses of sangria I felt better. Still a little sad that he hadn't called. But no longer dwelling on it.

Well, turns out that the crazy was completely unfounded.

He worked late. And the conversation earlier in the week wasn't exactly as I'd remembered it.

I'm hoping to keep my cool a little better in the future. And trust that he's not like other guys I've dated. That so far he appears to like me, just as he says he does.

beyond tired

Sometimes it's not worth it. Taking a few days off from work, which was really only a few hours, because of the overtime before and after.

Somehow, in being out of the office, my workload appears to have doubled. The deadlines to have gotten closer together.

I'm beyond tired. Between the traveling and late night beers and working late. I need a vacation to recover from my vacation.

I worked late tonight, because my plans fell through. Trying to catch up, but getting further behind.

At least my plans didn't fall through because I worked late. That, I am trying to avoid. At all costs.

If nothing else the last few months at work has taught me that only I can value my personal life. My boss, even if a friend, could care less if I'm happy.

Sure, they care if unhappiness affects my work and attitude, but that is all.

I'm trying only to work late only when absolutely necessary, and only when I want to. We'll see how long it can last.

the rest

After the last band of the festival I checked into my hotel room. M & P had left, so I was on my own for the last night. I took a long relaxing shower. Then climbed into bed with my book.

I didn't even open it. Distracted by the vibration of my phone on the bedside table. Another flirty text. Returned. And on. Ending with sweet dreams.

Exhausted but happy. I slept very well.

Waking up the next morning, I hurriedly packed. I had one more place to be before returning to reality.

I drove to the familiar limestone house. C greeted me in her driveway. We hugged hello. And the conversation started flowing as if it were last week when last I was there, instead of last year.

Her house was soon inundated with kiddos. Hers and neighbors'. In the past, the utter chaos of six young kids running around would have made me long for peace and quiet.

Instead I basked in the craziness. Missing my nieces a little. Wanting a little for someday.

Usually when I come back from my trips to the state where most of my college friends still live, I miss it, miss them. Don't really want to be home.

I still miss my friends, but for once I was excited about the possibilities that await me at home. Reality at work would be harsh. But I was ready to get back to the rest.

wine in hand, feet in pool

Five of Six

I had planned to drive straight to C's house from the airport as I had last year. But it wasn't a good day for her, so we planned to get together before I flew back home. My afternoon strangely devoid of needing to be anywhere, I found a coffee shop with WiFi and caught up on a little work, yes, even on vacation. But it was good to have it out of the way. Then I met M's friend to get her my extra ticket, which was the last of the extra tickets originally bought for the recent ex. The relief with which I parted with it was substantial. Another feeling of relief that he was gone. That the slate was clean. After exchanging our tickets for wristbands we headed to a creek side watering hole for some beers. Then she graciously invited me to hang out at her place until I picked M & P up at the airport. I picked them up and we headed to P's parents' place, which was to be our home away from home for the weekend. We opened a bottle of wine and caught up while dangling our feet in the pool. M inquired about the new boy, and picked up on the excited-ness with which I told the story. How I almost wish I had given him my extra ticket. Even though it's way to soon for either. We talked about their move back in nearly a year. About my hopeful visit before they do. About our families. We could have talked for hours, but the exhaustion got the best of us, and we eventually headed to bed. After lunching on delicious fish tacos, queso and margaritas, we napped then headed off to the festival. A long line greeted us as we approached the park, as fire trucks exited, the line began moving. Apparently something had been even hotter than we were. Over the next three days, we listened to some old favorite bands, and found some new ones. Hit some of M's favorite restaurants that have become mine with my many visits. And of course enjoyed a crunchy chicken cone, the best-ever festival food. We forgot our annoyance with the larger-than-last-year-seeming crowds by drinking beers and wine by the pool. Catching-up with old friends, and making new ones. Although, the music didn't excite me as much as it had in years past, this festival was perhaps the most fun. For me. Perhaps it was my laid-back attitude towards the number of must-see bands. Good food and drink. And mostly the great company. But perhaps a little the flirty text messages from a boy a thousand miles away. All in all my fifth festival, was the best. My boss asked me before I left if I planned to go down for it every year. I don't see why not. So far I've only missed the first. I think I'd like to keep it that way. Of course it may be easier when M & P move back to town. Hopefully they'll have a spare bedroom I can perpetually claim for this weekend every year. Maybe they can bring the pool and I'll bring the wine? ****** You can see larger versions of the images by clicking on them.

just memories

As I walked through the airport, a feeling of nostalgia washed over me. I have never even lived here. But I've visited so many times that I know this airport almost as well as the one at home.

I walked past the cafe we sat in awaiting our flight home from my brother's wedding. Where he insisted to my friend from college that we randomly ran into, that he was my boyfriend. Emphatic. Only to be replaced with another opposite emphatic statement exactly one month later.

Juggling my bags, I missed last year's demonstration of local hospitality as everyone offered to help me with bags being as I was on crutches.

I walked past the baggage claim. Remembering the first time I flew in for the festival. When M picked me up. Before she bought a house. Before she was married. Before she moved away from here.

She and P arrive in ten short hours. It hasn't even been a year since I stayed at their place in Brooklyn, but I miss her. P, even. I've only known him briefly, but he already feels like a brother to me.

My excitement at seeing old friends pales only in comparison to the feeling I get when I think about his eyes. About his smile. About last night's kisses. About how walking past the cafe brought no feeling of sadness. Just distant memories.

I'm happy he ended things. I'm happy I took most of the summer off. I'm happy I've finally met someone that stays with me even when I'm a thousand miles from home. Even if it doesn't last. It helps me to put other things in perspective.

I never missed the last when I was away. When he was. That should have been telling.

beyond frustrated

Work has been very challenging this week month year. So much so that I had to excuse myself and head down the hall to keep from just packing my stuff and walking out the door. To calm down and curb my anger and frustration. And a little to hide my red eyes.

The thing is it's not the work. I love the work. And it's not the people I work with. They're (mostly) great, too. It's the inability of the managers to manage people. Projects, they get, well, mostly. People? Not so much. Not really, at all.

Only those with families of their own have their personal time valued. The fact I consider my furry kid among my family is completely lost on them. The fact that I choose my friends to be my family for now, also lost on them.

I won't go into too many more details. Because if and when I leave, it will be on my terms, not theirs. But I needed a minute to grumble. Thanks for listening reading.

realizations

I've been thinking a bit lately about whether or not how I meet a guy plays a part in how the relationship will go. And decided a little examination is required before I have my answer. (Yes, I am a geek.)

I'll start from the beginning, or from when I can remember. Mentioning only those that left a significant impression, taught me a little something, or I dated for a while. It may paint me a little bit trollop. And it may bore you all to tears (consider that your fair warning).

HSBoy1 and I got set up by a friend. He took me on one date. In his green Gremlin. It was a terrible, have nothing in common date. Only significant because it was my first date.

HSBoy2 and I were inseparable one summer. Until I found out he was dating someone else. Yes, I am naive. But I was 16.

HSBoy3 and I were friends for forever before we went out. We had one amazing date our senior year. But both were too chicken to take it much past the friends point. And that's what we remained.

CollegeBoy1 and I met at a party. We went out twice. He spread very untrue rumors. That was the end.

CollegeBoy2 and I were set up by friends. He was an idiot. Even so, I went out with him twice, giving him the benefit of the doubt. I learned first impressions can be misleading, but second impressions usually aren't.

CollegeBoy3 and I met at a party. The initial flirtation was fun. We went out twice. He was the biggest ass I have ever met. I learned to trust my gut instinct a little more.

CollegeBoy4 and I were friends for a long time. We went out once. We flirted unabashedly, but nothing ever became of it. Probably a good thing.

GSBoy1 and I met in class. Always good friends. Brief periods of flirtations never amounting to anything.

GSBoy2 and I met through mutual friends. It was a long flirtation. Ending in only a kiss or twenty before he left town. Disappointing.

BarBoy1 and I literally ran into each other at a bar. There was a little bit of flirtation initially, but nothing became of it. We stayed friends for a long time. Although his on-again, off-again girlfriend was sure there was more there, there never was. For that I am glad. I ran into him over the weekend when he told me how much he missed my friendship. I don't, he was actually a terrible friend.

GSBoy3 and I met in class. Always good friends. A brief period of more-than-friends. And back to just good friends. Showing me that just because something should make sense, it doesn't always.

RandomBoy1 and I met through mutual friends. We dated for a few months. I hadn't made up my mind on whether we made any sense, when he broke up with me to get engaged to another girl two weeks later. They broke up. He wanted me back. Ha.

BarBoy2 and I met, well, at a bar, when a friend insisted I join her out. We caught each other's eye across the room. Cheesy, but true. We dated for over a year. But there was not enough in common to hold it together for longer. He told me last week I was the best girlfriend and friend he ever had. He was my best boyfriend, yet.

RandomBoy2 and I were set up by my sister and her friend. It was another terrible, have nothing in common date. Apparently some lessons take being taught twice.

RandomBoy3 and I were friends for a long time. Then more. Then friends. Then more. Then not-quite friends. Perhaps my most regrettable foray into a relationship.

BarBoy3 (aka NowEx) and I met at a beer festival. Close enough to a bar. We had mutual friends in common who assured me he was a great guy. We dated for a year and a half. We had a lot of fun together. But no deep connection. He, too, ended up being an ass.

RandomBoy4 and I met, well, randomly. There have been periods of flirtation. But nothing much ever became of it, besides a great friendship.

BarBoy4 (aka 24) and I had a disgustingly drunken PDA the night we met. We still see each other occasionally. He told me not too long ago I was the best friend he had and that he still thinks I'm beautiful. Sometimes just having fun is all something should be about.

RandomBoy5 and I met through mutual friends. Another very long flirtation. Ending with an entertaining week at mutual friend's wedding. And then nothing. Another ass. Should have listened to that little voice on this one.

eBoy1 and I, quite obviously, met online. We went out three times. I had the most in common with him that I have ever had with any guy I dated. He freaked out when I left town for a week, and that was the end of that.

eBoy2 (aka The(ex)Boy) and I dated for just over a year. We had a lot in common, or so it seemed. And although it was fun. And I hoped something more would develop, there just wasn't that certain something.

eBoy3 is, well, a story in progress. And we know I don't usually talk to much about those. If the story ends, I'm sure the eBoys will continue. It seems to be the only way for me to meet guys these days.

Particularly since I don't hang out in bars all that much anymore. Apparently my friends and family have absolutely no idea what I am looking for in a guy, given those set-up dates have been the worst I have ever been on. And the friends-of-friends -that weren't true set-ups weren't much better.

One thing I realized is the starting as friends thing never amounts to much for me. But mostly, I need to listen to the nagging voice telling me that there is not enough earlier than later next time.

I'm sure I should be taking away more from this list. But I'm tired. And I have you all to point things out to me, as well.

acting like a child

Although my friend ultimately bailed on me, my weekend ended up being anything but just me and TheDog. Not that TheDog didn't get some quality time with me. (I'd show you pictures, but my card reader has gone to the great card-reader graveyard.) But a few others got some quality time, as well.

I got to hang out with my sister-in-law (SIL1) and nieces quite a bit. Including another entertaining evening at the pizza place, ice cream with a bear, a walk / "bike ride" around town, and, of course, some tickle-monster time.

I went to Oktoberfest with friends a town over and ran into another I hadn't seen in a long time. He's the same. Hasn't changed. Which is unfortunate in some ways.

I also spent plenty of time with my brother, SIL1 and my nieces. A "little" bike ride, that took the better part of a day. Home-cooked (not by me) dinner. A trip to the police station. And lots of hanging out in the front yard, being the "don't do that" aunt.

Of course, TheDog and I snuck in a short hike, walks into town for early morning coffee, and some lazy deck reading and barking.

As Sunday's sun began to set, I hurriedly cleaned up my parents' home-away-from-home and headed back down the hill for more childhood-reminiscent fun. Fun including hot cocoa, a board game, and a cute boy.

belated

We celebrated my friend's birthday tonight, belatedly. It was nice to see her friends, and S, who missed the party, as she was out of town. Wine and port. Good friends and good food. A great bookend to my work week.

I'm heading up the hill again tomorrow. I didn't make it up as much as I would have liked this summer. So I've planned one last trip before Fall officially settles in, really cooling things down, changing leaves, bringing the early season flakes.

I don't even know if my friends are definitely coming with me. And I'm not sure I care. Wait, that didn't sound right. Of course, I would love to have my friends with me on my hikes. To go to dinner with. And to have good conversations with.

But it wouldn't really bother me at all if it were just me and TheDog for the weekend. I need to spoil her a bit before I leave town next week. And after this week I need some time to relax. Not that it was bad. In fact, parts were good. Just long, for a three-day week.

Some forecasters are saying the flakes may fly as early as this weekend in the high country. Although I hope we get a banner snow season, perhaps it could hold off until after my weekend.

manic Monday

I woke up Monday morning feeling well rested. And feeling mostly better. I had decided to get a good night's sleep at my parents' house after the bbq, since they live much closer to the planned family outing.

I sleep better at their house. I haven't been sleeping well at my own for various reasons. My hip has been hurting more lately. My mattress is in dire need of being retired. And I still wake up at the slightest noise, worried it's another unwelcome late night visitor.

I drove south with my mom and dad. We drove past a ranch that my great-grandfather owned. My mom told a childhood tale of how she went out wandering around the ranch looking for her dad, and got lost. Her dad had to call the fire department to come look for her.

We got to the place. We were the only ones on time. Not a surprise in my family. Slowly the rest arrived. One brother, his wife and my nieces. The other brother and his wife. Then my sister.

We laughed and joked and played with my nieces, while their parents learned what to do, and what not to do as they jumped out of a perfectly good airplane.

My other brother was supposed to go, but he was three pounds over the weight limit. We joked that he should have laid off the beer over the long weekend. He was disappointed.

He's really tall, plays semi-pro football, and is probably the second most in shape guy I know. Other than my other brother who is a mountain-biking, tele-skiing junkie.

My sister-in-law had asked if I wanted to join them. I had laughed. There is no way. There are a lot of crazy things I've done, and will do. Sky-diving? Not one of them. Not even when it's already paid for because they denied my brother.

The rest of the family watched as my brother and his wife jumped out of the plane. Free fell. Then opened their parachutes and twirled toward the earth. Both landed beautifully.

It was cool to watch. But definitely doesn't make me want to jump. Ever.

We headed to lunch, laughing as my nieces' balloons floated to the ceiling. Not their fault, but their mom's. They would get more as we left.

As lunch lingered on, I started to get a little nervous. I had a date. I didn't want to be late. And I still had to pick up TheDog, then my car.

My sister made my nervousness worse by insisting on picking up a pizza for dinner. I was her prisoner, as I'd left my car at her house the night before.

The pizza getting took longer than expected. Then the traffic.

I should have known. Labor Day traffic gets crazy with all the RVs and campers. The traffic was making me really concerned. I let him know I would most likely be a little late.

I finally got home, jumped in the shower, and met him. Only ten minutes late. Not too bad for as crazy as my day had been.

one wish

I love my family and friends. They insisted I join in most of my weekend plans despite the fact that I felt mostly horrible.

My sister-in-law insisted I go to the spa. Her comment was something along the lines of what do you have to do but lay there and sit there. Same as you would here.

So I went. The hot stones helped me feel better, at least temporarily. And the pedicure was relaxing, and very much needed. Lunch after was when things went sour.

Or actually, just my stomach did.

So I bailed on the girls for happy hour, and slept instead. Trying to rest up for the following day's activities.

The next morning my friend G's taxi showed up at my house as I stepped out of the shower. I let him in, but told him he was going to likely get to go to the game with my parents and sister. I couldn't imagine being able to walk all the way to the stadium.

But when my dad showed up, he called me a wuss for even considering not going, and shamed me into it.

The game was a nail-biter. With a "running toilet" for entertainment*. A good friend to buy me a pretzel and water, and shade at half time to sit in. The outcome was perfect. My entire family's alma mater pulled out the win in OT.

I sent G to the liquor store as I napped, since they aren't open on Sundays. (Yes, I make all house guests earn their keep.)

Then my mom, G, A and I went to sit in the second row of Red Rocks. Any show would have been great from that vantage point. But this one was fantastic, great music, great company, and my mom sneaking into the front row to try and get a rose.

Mr. King, Ms. James and Mr. Green can sure put on a show. The music was sublime, and most of the onstage dancing was entertaining, even if Ms. James gesturing may have been a little over the top.

Sunday was spent sleeping in and getting ready for the bbq. Thankfully my mom and sister helped out, as I was still feeling pretty terrible. By this point it had been concluded that it was food poisoning, and I was not allowed to prepare any food.

Of course only drinking water at your own bbq doesn't make up for not having to work as hard. I would have rather been the hostess with the most-est and been able to have a beer with my friends.

The party was a hit, despite my ailment, despite the rain. Good friends. Good food (or so I'm told).

As, I got ready to blow out the candles alongside a good friend whose birthday is today, surrounded by my amazing friends and family, I pondered my wish. I couldn't imagine wanting for anything, well, except maybe one thing.

* The running toilet was part of a water conservation campaign here.