On day eight of my mommy vacation I woke up with *gasp* nothing to do. I knew this would happen. I knew eventually I would run out of plans and people to meet. I got through Christmas, but this is a normal day. Oh what to do..... So I made six phone calls from bed using my deep sexy not quite awake voice. I was looking for people to play with. I found someone to run with, but that quickly ended. It was 11:00 and I had nothing to do. So I did what any normal woman would do. I went shopping.
New Years Eve is coming up. I've been using the same tube of mascara for two years even though it's been dry for the last three months. I suppose I could use a new one. In my entire life I have found one shade of lipstick I like. It was one of those paint and gloss combo's. The gloss ran out a year ago so I threw the shelak away. So two hours later I wander out of the make-up department with the SAME lipstick as before and one of a million types of mascara that promise no smudging or clumping. I had to wonder....if none of the mascaras clump or smudge, why even put it on the box? Shouldn't that be understood?
The vitamin and personal health department is right next to make-up so I picked up my first box of condoms in four years. Having bought 50 four years ago for an underdeveloped boyfriend - I figured the few I have left are probably past the expiration date or too small for any normal man. Then I remembered the time I had gone into a KMart when I was married to buy something similar. There had been a sale going on for those spermicidal inserts. You know, the one's that are great for him because he doesn't have to wear anything but bad for her becuase she now tastes like creamy bug spray. It said in great big yellow letters - "98% effective - satisfaction guaranteed". That was all I bought on that trip to the store. The poor 16 year old mormon kid (for this was in Thatcher, AZ) who was running the register couldn't think of anything to say to me as he was ringing me up. So I asked him "If these don't work, can I get my money back?" Hehe! Oh the joy!
Next stop in the department store - the "Home Chemical Department". Yes, that's what it's called at Target. I pick up an extra Glad Plug In. This one for the boy's room. When I got this home from the store I opened the door to their room and am completely overwhelmed by the stench. So I start with their bathroom. Clean the whole thing with cleanser and then double back with bleach. Then I washed their bedding. And then their windows, because I now live in California and apparently there is this stuff called mildew that grows after kids have been breathing all night in a cold room and fog up the windows. And then I open the windows to let the place air out. Then I leave the unopened Glade Plug In on their counter and close the door. No point in making the great outdoors smell good too.
I ended up meeting some guys at lunch who asked me to meet them at a bar in San Clemente. Since I had nothing better to do, I went. Talk about madness. A live band with a Chinese guy in a baby blue tux scooting around and screaming into a mike. People trying to dance to the undancable. Seven men who had been drinking since noon and doing who knows what else - all fawning over me. Very flattering. Big sweethearts even if they were all trashed and nothing I could respect. I had to decline the ride in the limo with the pissed off limo driver because someone (very pointedly - me) had stolen an entire decanter of vodka including glassware - as I sipped my glass of cranberry juice since I couldn't find the vodka.
I meandered into bed at 1:00 AM tired enough to not want to read, just sleep. Not bad for a day with nothing to do.
Who's brilliant idea was it to market Nair for the bikini area?! Whoever it was missed a major selling point - that it's permanent. Seriously. Hair can't grow through burn scars!
There's something to be said about being able to go grocery shopping for Christmas breakfast at 9:30 on Christmas morning. What's funny is that I managed to spend almost $100 and I'm only feeding me. Now that did include flowers, a ham that will feed me for the entire two weeks my kids are gone, and a bottle of Grand Marnier that will last for 6 months, but that's beside the point. Merry Christmas everyone, and may you enjoy your day.
By the time you're 12 you understand why we call it "falling asleep". Every night just as I'm nodding off....I fall. And wake myself up with a spaz. It's amazing that I actually ever get to sleep. Last night was no different. I was in a very light dream where I was walking with a woman and talking. Unawaringly, I stepped off a step....and fell. I jumped so high my head was off the pillow when my eyes opened. I laughed so hard. At myself. In the dark. Yes, I'm a spaz.
In the six years I've been divorced I have met many men with qualities that I truly appreciate. I found these men attractive because of qualities such as strength, independence, clear-headedness, and responsibility. I was such a ragamuffin at that point I went through a phase where I decided I needed to make myself "more marketable" to the men I was attracted to. I got my degree despite the fact that I was a single mother. I learned that it was ok to take full advantage of the system because it was there for me. I learned that I had to stop making excuses and take full responsibility for all my actions. That no one had control over my life except me. I became someone I truly respect.
However, apparently I missed a few things.
- Tenderness. Because I accept full responsibility for all the crap in my life I have a hard time being sympathetic to others. Don't get me wrong. I feel bad for them. I understand. But I have a hard time listening to people whine. I would rather help them find a solution so they can get on with their life.
- I'm not overly cuddly. Don't get me wrong. I really like to cuddle. But then I want to roll over and go to sleep, unlesss I truly fit with a person. I like cuddling on the couch or enjoying coffee together. I refuse to make out with someone in a public place, unless that's the whole point of the activity at that moment.
- and last but not least - apparently I need to learn to bat my eyelashes and say "Pretty please". In the past 2 days I've had it pointed out to me that every other woman is getting really large gifts. Plane tickets, boobs, expensive outfits. And I either need to be expecting these or ask for them because I guess these are the normal things women get. Honestly, I'd be really happy with flowers. Especially if they didn't come with a message pertaining to another woman. I don't need a man to spend money on me to enjoy being with him. My life is good just the way it is. I just want someone to share it with.
However, I have put together a wish list. Just in case someone doesn't think they can make my life better using the simple means of money.
1) A housekeeper would be stupendous
2) If it's a simple short date (i.e. Wahoo's and a walk) - help paying the babysitter
3) outdoor gear is always nice
4) designer clothes, or anything I wouldn't purchase for myself
