I think I would qualify as an online dating veteran. I joined match.com back in 2000 and used it off and on again for seven years and yahoo personals on occasion. Excluding my wonderful fiance who I met on Match last January, I met and had serious relationships with 4 other guys in that time. I can also happily say I never had any disastrous dates or met any wackos through the personals.
I have a great friend who is smart, beautiful, funny and independent. She’s never been married, no kids, no bad habits except for buying lots of shoes, but that is forgivable. She’s trying online dating again with some level of frustration. I have lots and lots of advice for men that are doing online dating but I’ll save that for another post. In the meantime, I’ve been thinking about online dating and how it really is a lot like fishing.
My grandfather liked to hunt and fish and garden – a real outdoorsy kind of guy. He had four daughters before he had a son who could go hunting with him. Then he had seven granddaughters before his first grandson (we must have very dominant X chromosones in our family). I think he got tired of waiting for a grandson and figured he’d make do with the pack of granddaughters he was given. His doctor had a small pond on a piece of land. He let my grandfather go fishing there anytime he wanted. Every so often a bunch of us would be staying at their house while our parents were “out on the town”.
I haven’t written for quite some time. I’ve been really busy at work and still trying to get my health issues under control. I finally found an endocrinologist who was actually interested in helping me find out what was wrong with me and how to fix it. I went in two weeks ago last Friday to see him for the first time. He requested a whole host of blood work on me. He said it would take a couple of weeks for all the results to come in. Last Thursday I called his office to inquire about the status of my results. I left a message since the nurse was unavailable. On Friday afternoon, I hadn’t heard back so I called again. The receptionist tried reaching the nurse again. He came back and said that the nurse said that the results were back and that the doctor was reviewing them. She said she expected to have them back from him that afternoon. Friday afternoon came and went with no answer. I am so anxious to hear back about these results because I have been feeling unwell for so long and I am hoping that this doctor has finally started to put the pieces together. Anyway, I figured if I didn’t hear back from them on Friday, I would hear on Monday. At four o’clock yesterday afternoon I still hadn’t heard, so I called back. I left an actual voicemail on the nurse’s phone. I explained that I was anxious to hear and that even if she called to let me know when I should expect to hear back that would be great. I was in an all-day meeting today away from my voicemail. I checked my work voicemail periodicallly throughout the day. Finally at 3:30 the nurse left me a voicemail to call her back. I called at 4:00 when I could step out of the meeting. The receptionist tried several times to get the nurse because he knew I’d been calling and trying to get an answer. He finally was able to contact the nurse. He said she was busy with a patient, but that another nurse was going to call me. I explained that I was in an all-day meeting and that my cell phone didn’t have good reception but to have the other nurse leave a phone number if she didn’t get me. He said that she worked until 5:30 and would call me before she left. Surprise, surprise, NO ONE CALLED ME BACK!!! At this point I was livid. I called back and got their after hours answering service. I was given a recorded message and told to hold for the next available representative. I was on hold for five minutes when someone answered and asked me to hold. I was then on hold for another FIVE MINUTES before I finally gave up. I was beside myself I was so angry at this point. I finally called back a while later. I was on hold for almost five minutes when someone finally answered. She wanted to put me on hold. I told her “no”. She wanted to know what my problem was. I told her my problem was that “NO ONE IN THE OFFICE WOULD CALL ME BACK!!!!” I told her to leave a message with the office that I was done being nice and patient and I wanted someone to call me back before 9 am tomorrow morning. We’ll see if they call me back. Maybe if they got email like this article it might help.
I haven’t gotten around to writing in quite a while – almost two months now. I have been busy with my new job (oh yeah, I haven’t updated on that, have I) so I don’t have as much free time during the day to jot down my thoughts.
But anyway, back to the heart of this blog post… I saw this article on Huffington Post how more women have recently recognized that intellect is far more attractive than muscles. These geeks are getting their own groupies too. These guys have a deep intellectual curiousity and have accomplished some really extrordinary things using their brains. I have my very own geek and he is incredibly smart and not the least bit boring. Not only is he a very accomplished physicist, he also skydives, figure skates, writes and plays the guitar (both accoustic and electric). Long after any muscles or brawn have disappeared with age, he’ll still have all of these things.
He’s smart and interesting but on top of that he’s great fun to hang out with. I’m always baffled by the women who marry men that spend every weekend playing golf with their buddies and glued to the TV watching the <insert sport here> game. These women don’t seem to mind this – they are out with their girlfriends shopping, getting their nails done, etc. but barely spend significant alone time with their husbands. I’m not saying you should give up all of your friends and spend every waking second with each other either. My boyfriend and I LIKE to spend time with each other. He still goes skydiving (weather permitting) on Saturdays and I run around and do those girly things while he’s there. But for the rest of the weekend, we spend the all of our time together. We go for bike rides or go shopping or recently I’ve started skating so we go to the rink for an hour or so. I’ve gone on two week-long vacations with him and we haven’t ended the trip fighting and anxious to get away from each other like I hear so many other people complain. If anything, I go through withdrawal when I have to spend time without him.
Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. I realize this post is rather prescient now given that fact. I hope he realizes how much I love and appreciate him and that he is the person I’d most like to spend my free time with. Love you Sweetie!
Last weekend my boyfriend and I had a Christmas party at my place. We made sure that the house was clean and neat before everyone arrived. My house isn’t always perfectly clean (yes, I know that is shocking!) but I try to keep some semblance of order and not live like a slob.
Being a former interior designer, I like watching HGTV. They show a lot of programs about fixing up your house to sell. These are probably pretty popular given the housing market. I am constantly floored at the houses that are featured. What amazes me is the state of disrepair and general dirtiness that other people live in. For example, the most recent show I watched featured a family in a $600,000 house. It had been on the market for 6 months and not had any offers. The owners were just mystified that they hadn’t been able to sell it. When the cameras toured the house, it was obvious to me why it hadn’t. The front yard had foot-high grass, a tree that had fallen down and bushes that were cut down and left sitting there. Inside there was crayon on the walls from their children (brats) and the living room carpet was filthy. They tried to hide the carpet under an area rug – gross. And, the front window had a broken pain of glass. These people were not struggling for cash as evidenced by the incredibly HUGE flat panel TV in the living room. I think maybe they spent a little too much time sitting on their asses in front of it instead of watching their kids and cleaning up the house and mowing the yard. The Realtor suggested they lower the asking price and they were incredulous. What did they think? That people want to move into a place that needs lots of work? Would they? I’m guessing “no” since they didn’t want to fix up the place they currently live in. Sheesh! People are dumb.
I read this blog on Chic Nostalgia by Leslie M. M. Blume on Huffington Post today. This is the third one she’s written about things we should bring back in style. I think she has some excellent suggestions that more people should follow. Number two on her list is dressing nicely for dinner and travel. Bravo!
When I was about 5, I went on my first plane ride to Florida. My mom went out and bought my sister and I new outfits to wear for the plane. I believe I had pink gauzy pants with a matching t-shirt. We had nice big chairs and they served us a real breakfast – eggs, toast, fruit salad on a real plate – and this was coach! The airlines have now reduced flying to the equivalant of riding in a train car with a bunch of hobos. The seats are too small and they are too close together (I’m a small person, so I can’t even imagine how awful it is for average to larger size people). Food, if it is served, is usually in a cardboard box. And forget about getting dressed up. People show up in sweatpants and t-shirts and I’ve seen teen-age girls in their pajamas. Blech – even if we aren’t flying first class, let’s have a little civility, folks.
In addition to the things on her list, I’d also like to add a few of my own. Let’s bring back:
1. Waiting until after Thanksgiving to start playing Christmas carols on the radio – really, what purpose does it serve to play them earlier other than to fuel holiday road rage? I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas by Bing Crosby is soulful and sweet until you hear him whistling the refrain for the billionth time at which point you want to either smash your radio or ram the car in front of you for sitting at the green light a second too long.
2. Nylons for women – it seems that women under the age of 40 have decided that wearing nylons is too restrictive and that they prefer bare legs. Even if you have a nice tan, it just doesn’t look polished. If you buy the right size and style, they aren’t uncomfortable. Or you can glam things up with a garter belt and thigh highs and make your man happy.
Those are two right off the top of my head. Care to add anything?
So I’ve begun clearing out the clothes in my closet that don’t fit me right now. I sorted them by size and realized I have enough clothes to outfit three people. There are three categories; small-, medium- and large-me. I am hoping that I don’t end up with an “extra-large-me” category in there.
This project is taking longer than I’d like. Part of the problem is that I am trapped for about 9 hours a day at work sitting at my desk not really adding any value when I could be home doing much more productive things. The other part of the problem is that I don’t have a lot of energy. I have adrenal fatigue and hypothyroidism that I am currently treating (also the cause of the various sizes of me). I can only do a little bit at a time before I need to rest physically and mentally.
I’ve come to realize that I really enjoy jobs/projects where I can take a big mess and make it better. I’m all about seeing the results of my labor. Right now, my “real” job; you know, the one that pays me a good salary along with benefits, is really unsatisfying. I’m stuck with a manager who won’t let me have any decision-making power and doesn’t know how to delegate. The whole department is undergoing a 5-month long reorganization. Where I work, a “reorganization” is defined as getting a new executive over your area who has the strong need to “mark” his territory by dismantling everything his predecessor put in place and putting everyone in the department into new groups and creating new work flows between them. This generally creates a great deal of worry, disatisfaction and upheaval amongst his associates. But, he gets to show his management what a great job he’s done in the first year on the job with charts and data that shows how unproductive we were before and how productive we will be in the future. In the meantime, all of the funding for our projects has been cut so that we can make sure our CEO gets his millions in compensation at the end of the year. So, in addition to not knowing what job you are going to be doing in the next month, you have nothing to work on before then or aren’t too motivated to get into something new because you might not be even working on it later. This is a fantastic strategy for boosting morale if you ask me.
When I was a little girl, my bedroom was always a disaster area. First it was my toys – they were always on my bed. At night, I would pull the bedspread down to drag them down to the lower half of the bed to make room to crawl in. Occasionally because of a bad dream or just to annoy my parents I would go climb into their bed in the middle of the night. My father couldn’t sleep with me there and would go get in my bed. I remember waiting for the inevitable “crash” as all the toys at the foot of the bed were pushed off as he got in and then some muttered swearing. The toys were replaced by clothes eventually. That drove my father to the brink every time he passed my room. I eventually rearranged my room strategically so that the bed was parallel to the back wall. From the door it was impossible to see over the far edge of the bed so that’s where I would toss everything if I wanted to make it looked like I had tidied up. That made it easier for him to walk down the hall to and from my parents’ room without having an aneurysm. Somewhere in high school I just gave up trying to hide my messiness. One night I came home after being out with my friends and my room was spotless. At first I thought maybe my parents cleaned, but I soon realized all of my clothes that had been on the floor were missing. I threw a fit and woke up my parents demanding to know where my clothes were. It turns out my father gathered them all up in garbage bags and put them in the storage shed out back. This was all his idea and my mom was not happy that she was awakened in the middle of the night because of it. I got my clothes back and my father and I held a truce until I left for college.
Fast forward 20 years. You’d think with that kind of childhood, my house would be a disaster area. Nope. Continue reading