Like mother, like son.

This is a picture of ME when I was 2. My son could be a spittin' image of me if he had green eyes.

Christmas Eve

Ok, I am on Miller Lite #3 and my 20th petit four. I finally see my little guy tomorrow at 2. By then I will have surely finished this entire box of "pitty fours".

Let's take it way back...to Medieval times!

I was just writing a friend an email and went on a major rant, I really liked it and thought I would share it all with you.

Here 'tis:

Women settle all the time out of fear of loneliness. For some reason it is drilled into our heads as little girls that there is something wrong with us if we are single. Seriously. It starts at all the middle school (6th through 8th grade) dances, all the popular girls had boyfriends - thus meaning they were not sitting down, by themselves listening to "crazy for you" AGAIN by Madonna. The rest of us got to sit there, unpopular (too tall!!) and watch, wishing the guys all sitting together on the other side of the room would come ask us to dance. I really wish women would stop this crazy train. The bridal industry would go out of business, divorce rates would go down. I say let's get back to the medieval roots where men had to slay huge dragons, ride horses and have a glorious reputation before a girls father would allow her to even walk with him somewhere. We women would end up happier if we enveloped the mantra of "wow me, woo me, impress me". Guys WANT to do this, it's instinctual for you men - the proverbial CHALLENGE. I have notoriously made it way to easy for a guy to "get me". "oh dont worry, I climbed down from the highest peak of the castle where I was locked away all by myself, then I built a bridge to cross the moat cause I figured you were tired from riding that horse here, and before I shimmied down the castle I made you lunch cause I knew you'd be hungry." That's how I have done things in the past. That is how I ended up married to a man who had no problem letting me handle all of our bills, our new baby - my own "tough guy" exterior got me there! NOW I aim for "yeah, I can climb down that castle, what chu got? Can you climb UP it?" I have to make a conscious effort to not make things easier. It's confusing at times and I worry that I may give a guy the wrong impression that I am not interested. But I will be damned if I make it ridiculously easy anymore. We shall see, like I said, a new path - new journey.

Men + Space = Happy Men Who Want You

I very rarely worry about this being a public site, however lately I cant help but be annoyed by a certain someone who visits this site many many times per day. It's fine, but what are they looking for? What are they hoping to find and why am I so darn interesting to her? This only bugs me because she put forth a very public effort to break up a relationship in hopes that the gentleman (and BOY is he a great guy!!) involved would somehow fall in love with HER. Now that don't make no kinda sense son. I knew I didn't like Alabama, in fact I was AFRAID to go there because I was convinced my Yankee ass would be run off the road by a home-made nitrous-infused monster truck, complete with a flag pole mounted in the bed of the truck for their ever-so-lovely confederate flag. Barf. C'mon, there's a sharp reality outside of the south similar to a cold bucket of water for those types.

Little girls with crushes truly take all leave of their senses and get lost in their fairytale dreams of prince charming (probably gay) and marriage (bwah ha ha) causing them great humiliation. This humiliation can be avoided if they just realize how great a person they are and start embracing "everything happens for a reason". Don't stalk men. No one likes that, in fact men like the exact opposite of that. Play hard to get. Don't return their phone call 4 seconds after they call you. Even if you don't have a life (that's a whole nuther' post) pretend like you do. Don't email him a million times a day, resist the urge to write your first name with his last name in your notebook. Stand up for yourself! You can be a hot sexy bitch with a little aloofness. Men + space = happy men who want you. A good friend once said to me "I sat there waiting for him to call, I had lost complete control of the situation. So I turned my phone off and went out." This is an excellent example of not being pathetic. A girl should never wait by the phone ( I have, recently even!) - get up, get out and go meet someone else (which I did). Most importantly never ever throw yourself at a guy, don't try to convince him he's with the wrong girl cause if he cant see that himself how is he going to see that you are in fact the RIGHT girl? If he chooses someone else well - his loss. Just means there is someone else out there for you.

one hot sexy bitch,
Flydi

Men.

R.I.P match.com. What a weird strange trip it's been. I will miss your daily tidal wave of emails from poor unsuspecting males in the bowls of Georgia, Alabama (ugh.), Tennessee, SWEDEN, etc. However I wanted to thank you for the hours of entertaining profiles to read, ogle over (I swear you create fake ads using models who don't exist to keep us interested). It would not surprise me if match.com was run out of the basement of some 15 year old's house where in between Xbox games and cheetos this punk is writing back to all of us pathetic women. I will say that there were a couple of surprises in there, and I thank you for the "bones" you threw me, even if they are in fact on the other side of the damn country or in CANADA for christ sake.

Match, you helped me realize that I am a hot piece of ass regardless of my mom status. Problem is the over-abundance of "fish-in-the-sea" you provide us. The slightest flaw or inconsistency in someone we all throw em' back cause we know tomorrow you will send us 10 more dudes to check out. I probably overlooked some really nice guys, that had I met somewhere else I would have considered.

yep, time for me to go. I have been recognized by a complete stranger while out riding my bike. It felt exactly like the moment my mom told me I needed to wear a bra in front of all of my little friends. I was mortified. SO, I have decided to pester my friends and get really drunk at their parties and hit on their husband's poor brother. Which reminds me, you F-ING married men!! WHAT IS YOUR DEAL??? It's not my fault you are a chicken shit and stay miserably married because you are "doing it for the kids", who are not stupid by the way, but my point being - ah- oh yeah, don't strut around with your feathers all displayed and use me to make you feel like the stud you once were (or so you say). What's really in it for me? Blech, baarf!

Match, you have apparently helped many people find true love and I'll eventually forgive you for all of the tall, hot, republicans you sent me. A for effort.
Ciao, I'm off to meet men the old fashioned way.
Flydi

Now for some random good stuff....
***warning, sexually explicit comments below - DAD please don't read any farther***

Penis size has come up lately in numerous conversations with my friends. We have been discussing the serious relationships in our life and how those men were, well, small. In fact remarkably small. My first boyfriend was just the wrong person to start out of the gates with. The bar was set into outer space with his freak-of-nature-multi-orgasmic skills. I alos have a friend, god it is so tempting to put his name here and a link to his website but his fiance wouldn't like that, anyway - this friend is huge. He has since stopped wearing underwear as it is uncomfortable. So he says ;) However I am rather certain he has no idea how to use it propah. tee hee. Ok, so my point is that there are men with small penises and great experience and well-endowed men with no skills - making them even on the scoreboard. What is the deal?? I have had crushes on men and watched them do things; play soccer, play guitar, etc and wished they were the same way in bed as they are when they are engrossed in their activity of choice, soccer, guitar. etc.

Lastly my site is garnering serious attention. My naughty little tangents about hooking up and single motherhood have caught the attention of people everywhere. Rachel, I am really hoping you get to publish that wild story about me and the pilot in LA. The "Bad Girl" story of single motherhood and one-night stands. Although he was more of a two-night-two-city night stand. I forgot to mention he didn't know who Whitesnake was, which in my hairband-crazed brain is just incomprehensible.

and here's a random picture of me....

Picking up the Starbucks Barista

I had a very nice chat with the Starbucks barista today. He was very cute, to the point I actually thought he was gay (no offense!) that is until he pointed out the 5 year-old lift tickets attached to my ski jacket. "I see someone has already been skiing this year, twice even!". I was so embarrassed I blurted out "oh no, I haven't been skiing in like 5 WHOLE YEARS, I just keep these on my coat." I am such an idiot. He winked at me and said "you're not from here are you?". And on it went. From skiing, to Milwaukee to weddings to new years, f;irt flirt flirt. My coffee (decaf, non-fat mocha with no whip cream) was waiting for ME for a change. Ha ha.

So, I got to thinking as I strolled down the sidewalk with all my free time; Is picking up the Starbucks barista as bad as hitting on the bartender? Having been a bartender I used to roll my eyes at men who would pull the ol' "hey baby, why don't you do a shot with me?" line. I mean, how would he feel if I walked into his office and asked him to do a shot with me while he sat at his cube, answering the phone?? Kind of odd. Anyway. Picking up the barista is the daytime equivalent to picking up the bartender in my mind.

I will now go there every Tuesday to see if he writes his phone number on my cup next to the "DIANE, N/F, No Whip, Old lift tix".

Eddie Van Halen is getting divorced!! Yahoo!!

Today is a good day. Eddie Van Halen is getting divorced and finally going to come find me, I just know it. He must have found out I too was divorced and really into lead guitarists our something. Who cares if he is old and maybe even a has-been (why on earth would you let Gary from Extreme be the lead singer of the holier-than-though Van Halen??? poor Dave) - he's one of the best damn guitarists ever. All you guitar freaks be quiet. Don't read this post and then email me about Yngwie and Steve Vai and whoever else you think is better - I simple wont hear of it.

You can read about it here:
http://entertainment.msn.com/music/article.aspx?news=209057

And, as it turns out Yngwie is performing here in Atlanta TONIGHT. How's that for coincidence? I went online to doublecheck the spelling of his name and voila, "December 7th, Atlanta GA The Coca Cola Roxy Theater" was there. Too bad I have 2 Christmas parties to go to tonight already otherwise I would ask Yngwie if he could introduce me to Eddie. ;)

While we are on the subject of hairband guitarist and what not, I should mention that I was out till 2 am on Monday night. yes, a MONDAY night! I hired a babysitter, it was all good. Not like the kid was at home alone with the dog. Ok, so I finally got to experience the time warp that is known as "Metalsome Mondays" here in Atlanta. Take every single metal dude you knew in high school. You know the ones, they always wore the black concert t-shirts with stonewashed jeans and biker boots. They had long hair, and smoked. Well, take all of those guys and put them in a basement bar to sing karaoke with a LIVE ROCK band. yes. I will repeat that. A live rock band. The songs you can choose from range from Journey to Judas Priest to Dio to Boston.

I couldnt grow the kahunas I needed to get up there and sing, but boy if I had been doing tequila shots I would have been up there belting out "Crazy on You" by Heart. As the amps wailed an ok version of a Pantera song I committed to singing on that stage on or before my 30th birthday with my friend Raj. He agreed to do the same. So I will start practicing now!
I have missed my rockstar calling. Fo Sho.

Here's the link to Metalsome Mondays http://www.metalsomemonday.com/

You have no idea what you are missing!

Dear Son,
I was talking about the night you were born last night and wanted to write down a few important pieces of those magical moments. What I remember may be a little hazy as I was on lots of drugs to get me through delivering you, but the feelings were very very real. You were very active even before you were born, keeping me up all night with your kicks and turns and hiccups. Music would perk you right up as we drove in the car to the myriad of doctors appointments, so I hope that this is a premonition to your future rocker stardom.

I was terrified to be your mom. I was afraid I wouldn't be good enough and that I would loose my patience and feel like my life was over. This is true, but I truly had no idea how GREAT my life was about to become. When you were finally born they quickly placed you on my chest, all slippery from birth. You! You just stared at me with deep royal blue eyes. Your little mouth quivering with a quiet little cry. You made these little grunts and gurgle sounds as you stared at me. This moment I knew my life was forever changed. That your life depended on me, and that my embrace would be something you would seek comfort in for years to come. Our bonding moment was so massive that every day I gain a glimpse of how huge it actually was. All the nights I have held you when you were sick, your middle of the night feedings sitting in the rocking chair together while I hummed "fields of gold". They all stem from that first embrace.

You are busy with life these days, but every now and then you want me to hold you and comfort you. Those big blue eyes still looking up at me help me to understand that nothing has changed from that moment we first "met". Everything I type seems so cliche, but your birth and the few first moments of your life doubled the size of my heart. As we sit each night and read "Goodnight Gorilla" and "The Tawny Scrawny Lion" and you point out the "rilla" and "rabbits", I want to wrap you up in security and love, to pour my soul into yours so you feel strong and safe in this world.

I love you little man, more than you will ever comprehend.
love, Mom

My $20 dollar Christmas Tree

This year I decided on a fake tree from Big Lots. It cost me all of $19.99 and took two seconds to put together and stand up. It already has lights on it. THIS IS A SINGLE MOM CHRISTMAS TREE. This tree practically said "sit down! have a glass of wine, as soon as we get this tinsel figured out I'll rub your feet". I couldn't help but notice how "bald" and "Charley brown-esque" this tree was though, however my little son was so excited I didn't care. He helped me hang ornaments, well he hung about 20 ornaments in one place, tossed a rope of tinsel over to the bottom left and did a little dance. Kid really knows how to live. No fussing over a "balanced' looking tree for him!

Anyway, I have kept many of the ornaments my friends from Boston made for me about 4 or 5 years ago as part of a surprise christmas party my best friend organized. These ornaments are made out of construction paper, pipecleaners, etc. I even have a gold star to put on the top of the tree with my initials in red glitter. They always make me cry when I take them out amd they go right along with my rebellion against the lame-ass perfectly decorated tree. Growing up we hung OUTDOOR Christmas lights on our INDOOR Christmas tree. We didn't care, or know better. There was an old gorilla with a saxophone, a rubber "Bert" finger puppet that had become an ornament and lastly was the 60's flowery angel. She was a disaster. Her styrofoam ball for a head had bright orange yarn for hair, one eye and was barely hangin on to her shoulders. She looked like drunk housewife. Her dress was cream with huge orange flowers with blue dots in the center. This had to have come from Big Lots in 1970.

Once all of the ornaments were hung, I noticed my son saying "seeeping ca-las? seeeping? awww, night night ca-las". I glanced over to where he was standing and noticed him talking to the Santa Claus ornament in which Santa is sleeping in a hammock with the words "Key West" written above him. THEN as though that weren't cute enough, he went and got a teddy bear, placed him under the tree - then grabbed his new favorite frosty the snowman napkins ($.99 at Big Lots) and placed those under the tree, THEN he started whispering and covered the teddy bear with his favorite blanket (bucky) and said "awww, go to seep. night night". I almost cried, instead I grabbed the camera.

Yes, this is my child. He has his dad's eyes. The only thing I really liked about his dad anyway.

A Love Song

This is rather cliche, but guess what? I dont care! It's a gorgeous song and I plan to include it on the soundtrack when they turn my life into a movie. Kind of an odd mix considering Van Halen's "Aint Talking Bout Love" is on there too. One big giant contradiction, aren't I?

My One and Only Love, Sting

Lyrics:
The very thought of you makes
My heart sing,
Like an April breeze
On the wings of spring.
And you appear in all your splendor,
My one and only love.
The shadows fall
And spread their mystique charms
In the hush of night,
While you're in my arms.
I feel your lips, so warm and tender,
My one and only love.

The touch of your hand is like heaven.
A heaven that I've never known.
The blush on your cheek,
Whenever I speak,
Tells me that you are my own.
You fill my eager heart with
Such desire,
Every kiss you give
Sets my soul on fire.
I give myself in sweet surrender,
My one and only love.
The blush on your cheek,
Whenever I speak,
Tells me that you are my own.
You fill my eager heart with
Such desire.
Every kiss you give
Sets my soul on fire.
I give myself in sweet surrender,
My one and only love.
My one and only love.

Remember Jerry McGuire?

I watched this movie again, after many years of owning the DVD and NEVER watching it. This movie is exactly how my life is as a single mom. I stopped and watched the scene where he kisses her at her doorstep after their date, her dress straps break and he slowly kisses her neck and shoulders as he ties them back around her neck. I watched this scene 4 or 5 times and just sighed. I want that. Not Tom Cruise (too short anyway!). I want it to be ok to get excited about someone without somehow knowing deep down that "this is not going to work..."

"A human head weighs 8 pounds..."

Wedding Day......the real story

November 25th was the day I officially lost my mind. Yes, I left all common sense behind me, or threw out by accident like I do with my keys - the 25th is a very important date for me to remember. I got married at sunset on at Fort Zachary Taylor Park in Key West. It was such a perfect day, really it was an almost perfect wedding - just the wrong guy. It didn't occur to me until around 11pm tonight that it was my anniversary, or that it WAS my anniversary. My x used to look forward to this exact date where I cringed and loathed it. I reacted in anger and frustration, finding it hard to motivate myself to buy him something to show how happy I was. As I type this I am reminded by advice I give so many others yet refuse to apply to my own life. It goes something like this "love is not measured in what you buy each other, the man of your dreams should be able to pick out a $1 dollar trinket at a thrift store and you will love it." Huh. Not my x-husband. He actually asked me for a G5 for Christmas one year as we struggled to pay our mortgage. November 25th reminds me of how foolish I was and serves as a reminder (not like my son doesn't already!) to slow down. I was so swept up in the moment with him, and was motivated out of my fear of loneliness more than anything. I cant forget to tell you all about Dan, the justice of the peace who married us. He's also a real estate agent and arrived at the beach on a moped with a big cooler bungie-corded to the back; "for flowers and cakes and wedding stuff" he explained.

Now, what's really ironic and funny is that as I get married a huge sailboat called the Liberty Clipper sailed by just as I was supposed to say "I do". I was previously engaged to a big Lithuanian carpenter and was planning a wedding on that VERY boat. The Liberty Clipper spends May - October in Boston and November through May in Key West. Anyway, as the boat sailed by all of the passengers started clapping and cheering for us as we stood on the beach. I couldn't believe it. Still don't.

More than anything I just wanted to remind myself, tonight, that November 25th should be a day I stop and think about what's best for ME.

Di

Guts vs Balls

A friend sent me this.....

We've all heard about people having guts or balls. But do you really know
the difference between them? In an effort to keep you informed, the
definition for each is listed below ...

GUTS - is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being
assaulted by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: "Are you
still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?"

BALLS - is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of
perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the ass and
having the balls to say: "You're next."


Hardy har har!!
Flydi

2 beers, 2 glasses of wine and a martini...

Ought to numb the fury. Or one can hope at least. Not to mention throwing in a ride on the Fur Bus! WOOOO HOOO.
www.furbus.com - check out the interiors of these babies. This lovely little town just next door to Atlanta offers free rides on these party bussesses (how the hell do I write the plural version of bus?) and 20% off if you shop at the locally owned stores for the holidays. The furbusses drive you around blasting KC & The Sunshine Band's "shake, shake, shake...shake your boooty!" in pimped out interiors. I am talking zebra striped seats, fur covered ceiling, feathers, disco lights, BUMPIN music. Heaven if you ask me. I want the good ol' days back where I run out the front door and hop on the bus - the Fur Bus - and it takes me to work instead of school. At any rate this shopping idea is in fact a great idea. The stores have wine and snacks and it's just a nice way to shop if you ask me. Yes, bribe me with alcohol and I will shop - anything to avoid the damn malls. I always need to ease into my holiday shopping and the transition from buying things for my son or myself takes some effort. ha ha. At least this year my shopping list is way way down (dropped about 10-15 people) thanks to my divorce. Such a relief!

On a different note, mercury is retrograde for Gemini's right now. This means ABSOLUTE CHAOS. Anything than can go wrong will. In one fucking brilliant week here's what happened to me:
1. Loose my glasses - only owned this pair for about 8 months
2. Fall off my new bike - just learning how to use the new clip-in shoes
3. lock my keys and cell phone in my car after falling off bike
4. get written up at work for looking for a new job - I now have 90 days to improve my attitude
5. my suspicions confirmed an inter-office romance - not a big deal except the man involved WAS also inter-office-romancing ME too. loser.
6. one of my tenants rent check bounced causing all kinds of public rejection of my bank card. I LOVE THAT.

I know this list will grow longer and I only have to hang in there till December 4th when this fucking retrograde time period is over. That's a little bit more than two weeks.
Wish me luck!

Flydi

Open Letter to the next Mr. Myer.....

Dear Mr. Myer,
I have been injected with a dose of "heart-on-my-sleeve" potion and needed to get this out of my head before I reverted back to my guarded, got-it-all-under-control style. So this is an open letter about romance to the next future Mr. Myer.

A movie I just watched said "when your heart has been broken or mangled it grows back even bigger". That must be what I feel. This pain in my chest is my heart growing bigger.

I have never had a great Valentines day. N.E.V.E.R. It's amazing when I think back over the years of all the attempts that were made and ended up half-assed. For example; receiving roses on the 16th, or the 17th. Going on "double dates" with my guys best friend and his loser, winey girlfriend is not my idea of romantic. Having the waitress hit on my boyfriend during dinner because they clearly know each other for some reason or another. I hate those stooopid cards where they show two little kids kissing or holding hands, but for some reason those I have dated GIVE THEM TO ME. That tells me they dont know me very well. They also give me candy - booooorring!

I'd really like someone to go out of their way on my behalf to be romantic and put some thought into what might just impress me. Surprise me, embarass yourself, make a scene, put yourself out on a limb. I love that. Remember that I love Peter Frampton and have him join us for dinner. ha ha. Ok, ok, if that is too much make dinner reservations in a place we have to get on a plane to get to - and during dinner sit next to me, not across the table from me. Have a plan and lastly dont make me pay for dinner cause your credit card bounced. It really kills any romantic thoughts I may have toward you.

I can assure you I will go out of my way to romance you. That is if I am in love with you. I have killed myself to get tickets to already-sold-out-shows and sporting events for previous chumps I have been in love with. I have cooked difficult, gourmet dinners only to have my dude show up late and too tired to participate. I have wrangled myself into fancy outfits thinking they would be excited and been told they WERE TOO TIRED.

I often hear "you must have tons of guys chasing you down" which I wish more than anything were true. Men in their 60's hit on me, in part I believe because they arent afraid of being rejected anymore. Sometimes there are a couple of interesting ones, but there is very seldom one that I find HOT and SMART and admirable. One that makes me laugh and laugh, one who has razor sharp wit and isnt afraid to use it on me.

Dont be afraid of me, or intimidated I am just smart and full of goals I want to achieve. Grab my hand when we are walking and pull me up against you so I can feel your breath. Lean in close to me, about 90% as "Hitch" would say and smell my hair. Help me slow down as I live my life too fast. Insist on helping me with something even though I will resist due to my rediculous feminist independence.

Above all, give me roses on the 14th of February - not the 16th or 17th. Or a week after.

Comprende?
Flydi

Halloweeny

Ok, I know, enough with the Halloween stuff - but I forgot to put this on my site! Soooo sorry! I am not the creator of this, it's simply brilliant though. I dont know where this is, etc etc. I just loved it.

Thanks to J.Crew for the hottest man on earth

No jacket required, or clothes for that matter. Oh my god, this model on the J.Crew website could very well be the hottest man on earth. He's the hottest thing I have ever seen. Thank you for discovering him J.Crew, AND for putting him in a puffer jacket so he looks like he's the hardy noreaster type.

Who is this guy? Not because I am goint stalk him but you dont just end up on J.Crew your first time out of the gates as a model. And, yes I am objectifying him quite a bit but HE CHOSE to be a model, therefore he knew what would happen when the ladies saw him. He knows he's hot. Sort of like me choosing to be in sales and getting upset when I have to make a cold call. ha ha.

Halloween. Mooooo.

The mother in me

Boy am I ever a mom! My child has grown, much to my amazement. This picture is a year old, and I was just noticing how much of a baby he USED TO BE. So much hype centers around all of the things that can go wrong, things that you can DO wrong as a new mom and - quickly now - RUSH OUT TO THE STORE AND BUY THIS NEW WIDGET to make sure you dont fuck up your child. It's rediculous what "we" (I am in advertising, so I am guilty of doing this) do to new parents. Regardless, I survived the first two years and was just noticing that my child now converses with me.


He says the following:

"Sit down! mom." - very similar to the way I instruct our black lab to "sit down!"

"Here mom."

"you ok? you ok mom?" - usually after I have stubbed my toe and swore in front of him

"what mom?" - this is brand new.

This is after I ask him "do you want to go downstairs and get in the car and go to school and sing songs and color?" hahah. I am just trying to see if he gets all of it.

Lastly, when did he start calling me "mom"? It used to be mommie. In this picture he was calling me just that. Before that it was my favorite, momma.

Hartsfield Jackson Airport Update

Was I not just telling you guys about how romantic it is to have a guy waiting for you at the airport? Was I not just telling you how that hasnt happened to me, in about ...well EVER?

I got to the top of the good ol' escalators in Hartsfield Jackson Airport around 1pm on Wednesday when an unmistakble "DIANE!" was heard. Everyone heard it. I was so shocked I thought "I definately heard my name. there's no doubt someone just screamed my name. who the hell could it be?". I wheeled around, and glanced at the large crowd and finally noticed my friend and former co-worker from Boston, Paul standing there, beaming. Now it made NO SENSE that it would be him, of ALL people. He lives in Vermont. I havent seen him in 3 years!!
I almost cried as I hugged him.

Turns out he is intown for a seminar thing for his work and just happend to be at the airport waiting to pick up people and head off to his hotel. I just happened to be LATE thanks to Delta and the 30 something jets in line ahead of us to take off from Laguardia that same morning.

Apparently a friend of Paul's snapped a picture of the whole scene at the top of the escalators. I will post it as soon as I get it.
:)

Halloween 2005

Please note the use of the green Crayola crayon. Such a helper!

If you are a guy, do this for a girl at least once in your life.

Listen up men. Esquire magazine (which I read on the plane earlier today) had a little blurb about some things girls like written by the "mom" star of the show Gilmore Girls. I don't watch tv, or this show but have been told that Sebastian Bach actually plays a pizza delivery guy on the show. WOO HOO. Ok so back to the point here. This actress gives a short list of things girls like, and one of them read "pick us up from the airport". BINGO. Airports are romantic. I don't know ONE girl who doesn't secretly wish her man, or in my case "a" man, is standing there at the top of the escalator, waiting for her with flowers. Or even better, a sign with her last name on it.

I fly all the time. Several times per month in fact. I eagerly turn on my phone when I land after 4 or 5 hours in the air hoping for the "beeeeeeep!" sound signifying that someone missed me while I was traveling. Nope. Not lately. Tonight I turned on my phone and there was no message, no emails, no nuthin. "Fucking blackberry, must be something wrong with it." I muttered to myself, worried deep down that I was actually wrong and that the horrible truth was that NO ONE MISSED ME. I stared at the screen, watching the little data arrows go back and forth getting my hopes up and then nuthin. The clock changed to 7:41 though. I had a sinking feeling inside. I fought it hard, and tried to remind myself that the opposite was much worse (being married to a controlling, insecure stalker-type who used to leave 4,5,6 messages for me) and that I would have to get used to this alone shit.

Riding the escalator in Hartsfield is like a giant dose of anticipation. They are long escalator and at the top is where the huge crowds stand to meet their long lost loves, family members, etc. They are held back by ropes and there is a line of folks in the front that continues down the side towards baggage claim all holding signs with names on them. I wonder if this is how it kind of feels like to be a celebrity, with people kept away from you by ropes and barricades. Now, I realize that most of these signs are from limo services picking up business travelers - but still, I know guys who are hilarious and balsy and I encourage them to make their own signs and stand there with them and see what happens.

Atlanta is a GIGANTIC airport. I have never seen a bigger airport. In fact, it is the world's busiest and claims to have shuffled over 85 million people in 2004. That's a whole lot of signs!

Anyway. Boys, if you are reading this make an effort to pick your sweetie up at the airport. Don't be late. Be very early and stand there at the top of the escalator - even if she does this all the time, and wait for her. She will love it.

flydi

A medley of my Match.com responses

I just couldn't help it. I HAD to cut and paste some of the emails I have received from these men. There is just so much good content for me to delve into here. In order for this to make sense I have to cut and paste what my profile on match.com says.
Here it is:

"Please for the love of god have a sense of humor! Don't just email me and not read this, cause if you voted for Bush or define yourself as a "good Christian" we are not a good fit. The word "liberal" is not an insult, it is a way of life and I like those that think about how their life effects others and the world they live in. "

Ok so it's a bit harsh, but at least it's honest and is working to scare away the guys who want to take me to church or shut-up as they talk about how hard it is for white men to succeed in this country. Anyway, here are some of the responses my profile has received lately:


1."XM sucks try Sirius ... much better programming!
Hey Bush aint so bad.... entertaining to watch try and give a speach, if nothing else! later...
your good Christian friend who voted for Bush.."

Now this is just plane stupid. I love XM radio. Sirius has 1/5th of the subscribers that XM has, why would you send this to me?

2. "Actually, I did vote for Bush, but everyone was yelling "Hurry up dude! Just pick one!". I also just lost 5 lbs. and broke a sweat when I read your profile, it kinda scared the hell out of me :)!

An excellent email! It sums up why I think Bush won in the first place, considering most people don't know WHY they voted for him and tend to make up shit like "I want to feel safe in my country". So this means you think he's improving our international "friendships" to prevent us from being attacked? Huh. Time to turn off Bill O'Reilly and learn some shit folks.

3." I voted for Bush..the diifference between a liberal and a conservative is that I respect your opinion and who you voted for but being a typical narrow minded, attacking, no solution to anything liberal, well, I'm not surprised...

I luv ya'

:-)"

Ok fine. So as a good conservative do you also respect my HUMAN FEMALE RIGHTS to CHOOSE what's best for my body, overall health and safety? Do you think it's ok for YOU to decide what laws should be enforced for me, as a woman, even though you cant comprehend childbirth? I wont be surprised if you have no answer to this, or even a solution.

4. I am a god fearing good Christian and hold George W. Bush as my personal savor. Jesus, at this point is one step below how I feel about W. And I believe we should bomb the French, the Pacific Ocean (because of Katrina) and force all liberals to wear an L on their shoulder. Amen. YouÂ’re a weird chick, engaging in those weird sports with spandex and number written all over your body. You shouldnÂ’t have any contradictions in your life, either believe in Jesus or your savor George W. and if you have any doubts, just listen to this tapes I have of Cheney speeches with Condoleesa interludes, itÂ’s peach.

This is so damn funny I had to write back to him. "bomb the Pacific Ocean"??!!! BRILLIANT!!

5. "Oh yeah, one more thing - I HATE the Patriots...."

This is from a Pittsburgh fan who just cant get over the fact that they arent SUPERBOWL CHAMPIONS. loser!


*sigh* I will prevail. One of these days a post will flow from fingers and be full of "I cant believe it, he is just perfect!". I will not let this southern town bring me down. I will not submit to your god-fearing ways and start wearing a bonnet to assuage your fears of my independence. no way jose.

flydi

Mario Andretti's got nuthin on me!

Yesterday I beat out the men and women I work with at Mario Andretti's adult go-kart track. Here's the link:

http://andrettikarting.com/

There is no better feeling for me than beating men at a machismo, testosterone-filled events such as racing cars or karts for that matter. I was so jazzed up to get on the track I actually started to get nervous as I sat and waited in a line of karts spewing exhaust. These puppies go 40mph. You have a certain amount of time allotted on the track and you're considered good if you get 13 laps in under 34 seconds each. I did just that, TWICE. My average lap time was 33.7 first time around and then 32.6 in the second heat. I think my co-workers are now afraid of me.

I don't know what comes over me but I refused to loose yesterday. I was a raving lunatic! I hit the gas and wouldn't let up, I passed coworkers on the outside of these snaking "S" turns, I cut them off, I crashed into them, I rammed them. I was a nut. I devised a strategy very quickly: let up on the gas and punch the break causing the kart's rear end to spin around the curve while turning into the slide, JUST LIKE DRIVING IN THE SNOW IN NEW ENGLAND, and then floor it on the gas as you come around the curve. On the big curves you hit them at an angle and just accelerate. And finally, when trying to pass someone, go to their inside and cut them off while you floor it. My heart is pounding just typing this! I was such a nut yesterday! I came in second in the first heat and then flat out refused to loose in the second heat. The second heat was full of my male coworkers who planned to school my girly ass. My fairy godmother was not going to disappoint me, I just knew it. I was afraid, and went "wicked" fast to keep my head above water. I wrestled my Brooklyn friend around a few corners, and would not let him pass me. I got freaken broadsided by another dude and kept going. I really had no idea how I had done, I just knew no one passed me.

Now, folks, I realize I am making a bigger deal out of this than needs to be but it feels so good to BEAT THE BOYS!!! We all made a bet on who would win the second heat. And I made a whopping $5 bucks.

The major question of the day is "Why am I so competitive?".

Simple. I have a twin brother. Anything he did I had to do and I learned very early how great it felt to beat him. I didn't always beat him which only fueled my inferno to strike while hot, immediately.

Fire in the belly!
Flydi

I love Wayne Bradey

Dear Wayne,
You are amazing. Next time you are within 100 feet of me, please PICK ME from the crowd and have me assist you on stage with your "off-the-top-of-your-head" rap comprised of stoopid industry buzz words like ROI and shit. The Direct Marketing Association is not a super interesting group, even though it is comprised of all kinds of ad agencies. YOU made it so much fun.
I have never been so entertained before. BRAVO!!

Also, please star in some upcoming movies. I'd love to have a Christmas special of you and see you surpass Will Smith as a funny actor.

that's all.

flydi

The custody handoff always sucks

Poor little guy. He cried and cried for his dad as we drove away from the parking lot where we did the handoff tonight.
"dadiieeee" he cried over and over, as he covered his face and cried real tears. Makes me feel like complete shit, I tell ya.
However my sweetheart, conservative-yet-awfully-liberal friend gave me a farm themed John Deer tractor toy set to give to him - complete with a rather broad shouldered farmer, a sheep (I am pretty sure we have seen sheep in all of the books we have read together, however this sheep is being called a "rabbit" by my son- I think it's fur is too white), a "horsey", a cow and a pig. All crying stopped when this was presented to him. He wrapped his little arms around it and hugged it. We went shopping at Whole Foods with it, we took a bath with it and he is now currently sound asleep with it in his crib. I cant think of anything I enjoy that much that I want to bring it everywhere, that it cant possibly be out of my grasp for more than a nano second. Well, I can think of something (someone?) but this is a good clean post. :)

I literally just tip-toed into his room to snap this picture of him sleeping with the tractor. It is pitch dark in his room, however the flash made it all possible. As you can see, he is asleep on his stomach with the tractor behind him.

Thank you for the incredibly thoughtful toy and conversation. What a friend I have found in you - even if you voted for Bush, believe we should be at war and don't believe in global warming (inside joke, sorry folks!). My son stopped crying because of you, I stopped feeling bad, guilty and selfish for divorcing his dad and all is now quiet and good on the range here tonight.

20 points for you!

The war of northern aggression

I have just finished watching "Cold Mountain" thanks to Netflix and am now re-enchanted with the idea of true love. My heart is swollen in my chest at the thought of loving someone so deeply again. It's only happened a couple of times for me and for that I am grateful. I am lucky to have had at least those two relationships in my life. It's obvious to me that I mistake my instant chemistry with someone for something more, when it is merely a crush or even worse, lust. This is how I ended up married to a man who thinks the Civil War was not about slavery, and that we "northerners" have been miseducated with our American history.

Someone said to me today , "oh you'll get married again." Her optimism piercing through my facade and warming my soul. It felt good to hear for some reason. Another sentence that struck me was, "he's perfect for you cause he doesn't want to get married". Huh. How interesting.

It is hard to fight back tears when I think of how completely odd and unnatural it is to be a mother and not have my child with me when I am home. These thoughts make me say "I will never get married again". Thoughts derived out of a heartache I fear I will never get used to. A heartache I don't want people to see and try to console me with "I understand". Their intentions are so genuine, but there is no way for them to comprehend how painful this experience is. My child was a gift to me, and I remember feeling so excited at the hospital when he was born over the simple fact that he was mine and I got to take him home and keep him with me. That this joy was not something I would loose, it was not temporary or something I could only enjoy for a moment and then feel jealousy as it was given to someone else. Nope, this little boy was mine. He needed me to survive. Folks, this is true love. Love like I have never felt before.

I have developed some coping skills so far. Traveling for work and training for triathlons. Both are exhausting and rewarding in their own way yet incredibly conniving. I am not sure I do both because I want to, my motives are based out of "have to" or I might sit here and erode away like a sand castle built too close to the water. Time alone without my son is the loneliest time. Let me be clear that a break from a whilrwind toddler is much different. A break is brief and has no legal document stating when you can start and when you can stop being apart from your child. A break is relief. This time apart can not be classified under the same category.

Like I always do, I suck it up. I dust myself off and don the "such is life, keep breathing, things could be worse, etc" speal that keeps my sanity from slipping away from me. I daydream about being married to a man I find incredibly funny, sexy and gentle. One that reads to BOTH me and my son. One that let's me be me and encourages me to be more. One that knows his American history for christ sake!

**picture is of me, my dog and my little son sleeping....a long time ago.

For those who have ADHD and don't care, I salute you!

That's right, all your ADHD maniacs out there raise your hands for today we are getting mad props for our hyperactive brains! MSN.com has an article on their site today about "The Upside of ADHD".

Check it out: Enthusiasm, Empathy and High Energy Among Traits the Disorder Carries
By Marilyn Lewis for MSN Health & Fitness

http://articles.health.msn.com/id/100109339?GT1=6997


I was diagnosed with ADHD back in 1995, put on Adderrall and promptly sat still or slept. That was about it. I would sleep for about 12 hours or more, straight! I don't even sleep more than 6 or 7 now cause I got shit to do! It's time to wake up and go DO stuff. I clearly remember sitting at the table with my fellow waitstaff coworkers through out our entire pre-shift dinner. I continued to sit in my chair after everyone had left. I stared out the window. I was repeatedly asked "are you alright Di?" by all kinds of folks. After my shift ended, I noticed a significant difference in my tips. I had made about $30 bucks less than usual, and the night was a busy one. I strolled down through the mall, got on the train and fell asleep on the D line. In all my life I had never fallen asleep on the T! I couldn't stay awake to save my life.

I stopped taking Adderall and bounced back. My energy came back, I guess you could say I "got my wits about me". You don't HAVE to take medication, you just have to adapt. I am used to forgetting things now, and those who know me I am sure have their own commentary to provide on this subject BUT my main point is that I am successful in my job because I have ADHD. On more than one occasion I have had to think on my feet, generate an idea, breathe life into a room of pessimists. Today's article describes the CEO of Jet Blue, who fortunately makes enough cake to hire a personal assistant and an accountant to keep track of everything. I can afford my Blackberry. I have trained myself to input important things like appointments, phone numbers and names of songs, books and movies I will never remember on my own.

What's even better is the Ty Pennington in the spokesperson for Aderrall! The ads for the drug keep coming up as I read this ADHD article with his gorgeous picture on them.

Thank you Marilyn for writing this sentence "Instead of only focusing on the difficulties posed by ADHD, today, the upsides are likely to be noted, too: the quick-wittedness, the speedy grasp of the big picture and the great enthusiasm for nearly everything. These traits make ADHDers endearing and simultaneously exasperating. ".....in bed. sorry. bad joke.

Lastly, Tom Hartmann writes "People with ADHD “may instead be our most creative individuals, our most extraordinary thinkers, our most brilliant inventors and pioneers,” writes Hartmann in his 2003 book The Edison Gene: ADHD and the Gift of the Hunter Child. He posits that the people with ADHD may carry genetically coded abilities that once were, and may still be, necessary for human survival and that contribute richness to the culture. "

Your damn right we do. Look at these words, I am twirling around in them like a little girlExtroardinaryry thinkers, brilliant inventors, pioneers, genetically coded abilities, human survival, richness of culture. I am going to hold this article like a baby kitten.

upDate on dating

Hmmm... you men are starting to be a bit more impressive these days. I am withholding my amazement somewhat here, but as of recent I have met some cool dudes. It's become obvious to me that as a single mom I have to be "extra hot". I cant just be cute, or pretty. It's gotta be much more than that. Boy they have no idea how much there is! ha ha. Ok so back to the subject here.

I have also been hit on and didn't realize it. Let me fill you in:

There is such a range in personality types, ages and experiences here. For storytelling purposes and privacy (somewhat) I will call them "young guy", "NYC guy" and "cali guy". Young guy arrived via an add I had placed to rent out my house and low and behold one of those completely unexpected yet pleasant surprises occurred. I opened the door while wearing sweaty workout clothes to a tall, handsome young man with a great smile. I guessed he was about 24? I am still not sure really, but WHO CARES. Young guy also drives a bright red brand new camaro (minus 10 points) - which made me laugh, please see my previous post about what kind of car I wish I could be. Anyway, he rents the house and suggests we take our dogs to the dog park or go out for a drink and lastly he offered to help me move. That adds up to three attempts at spending time with me, which I doubted as being hit on. That is until I told my girlfriends. I may just take him up on all three of these offers. After all I am SINGLE, which means I can do these things. OH, I forgot to mention how my son tipped over an old plant while we sat on my front porch, and threw a handful of dirt at him. Awesome. He laughed and brushed it off of him (5 points!).

Ok, so NYC guy is by far the most interesting. He and I have been emailing, sort of - and agreed to have dinner when I was in NYC for work. I was so tired from all the traveling I had been doing that week and had no interest in leaving my cozy hotel room the night we were to go out. I pulled my shit together and got all dolled up and met him in the lobby of the hotel I was staying in. We walked everywhere, which I loved, and he told me all kinds of fun goofy stories about his career and life. In particular he describes landing a Levi's ad because of his unique talent to clap his hands at the same time he makes an "O" with his mouth, making a hollow sound. He can perform all kinds of songs this way! There has to be some way to incorporate this skill in bed, I am convinced. And here we go - right into the gutter! ta-dah! It only took me 200 words or so to get here. We had dinner then strolled over to a bar where he tells me about his singing skills. Now, most guys who think they can sing cant, but I was a little curious since he was actually cast in a Broadway show. I had no fucking idea, until today, just how good a singer this man is! This guy has got a pair of pipes that are even out on CD, one you can buy on Amazon.com. I am so impressed I am awarding him 10 points for it. This is the type of guy you date, he's real, he lives his life and dreams and takes it all in. But he lives in NYC.

Lastly is Cali guy. My first real "older man". A pilot no less who rides his bike hundreds of miles while listening to easy rock and romantic songs. He and I met online and actually met in person while I was in LA for work. He flew in to meet me, which I will give him 5 points for. Boy, when I opened the door and saw him I was so excited and nervous which never happens to me. We laughed and joked around like we had known each other for months, not to mention the obvious physical attraction. This experience felt like a violent tornado, and I wrapped my arms and legs around the nearest tree and held on so I wouldn't get swept away into a high school-like crush. After all, a fit, tall, handsome guy like him? c'mon ladies - he's good, but he's 16 years older than me and never been married. That screams something - I don't know what - but it should be noted. So far he's been a lot of fun and yes, he called me the next day. But he lives in California.

I think I am purposely seeking out men I cant possibly have a serious relationship with. I mean NYC & California?? Long distance sucks, especially when you are falling for them and you just want a hug without getting on a plane to do so. Dating is a lot of work, eventually it's your turn and the dating god throws you a bone. Considering the pile of tools I have met over the past year - these three are a whole different ball game. More than anything I think it's a sign of growth for me. Maybe I have managed to inch the low-lying standards bar up a bit higher? I attribute a lot to the confidence I have gained from the triathlons. I feel better about myself in a "shit ya I did TWO triathlons, what chu got to offer, huh?" kind of way.

Blackberry Jam

It is easy to get caught up in your own life, prioritizing mundane things over time with those who care about you. That's just how life is. I have had the great fortune of having a best friend, whom I grew up with for over 24 years now. There's nothing I can compare that kind of bond to. She is more than a sister to me, more than a "buddy" and more than a "best friend". I admire and respect her like no other, and I am flattered that she calls me her best friend. In fact I am relieved she does. I am surprised still that she gets choked up when she talks about how much she cares about me. Surprised that someone I adore and admire so much cares so much for me.

everyone needs someone in their life whom they can be themselves with and still be loved just the same. she may not always like everything I do, but she doesnt hold it against me. It's important as women to have nurturing relationships that support each other and provide strength in all that we face.

recently my best friend was mailed a jar of homemade blackberry jam from her brother. As I watched her open the package and realized what it was, I started crying. This one jar of jam brought back all of childhood experiences with her, riding bikes, picking blackberries, playing on the massive stone wall behind my house. Years of friendship, barbies, hair-dos and boys. Years of trust and unconditional love. Her brother had picked the berries from the same bushes and made jam, just like our mothers did - and he mailed it to her, with no card. It didnt need one.

She and I grew up across the street from each other. We both had blackberry stands, and would "compete" on price - however our road was busy enough that we could do well regardless. We also had blackberry fights! We would pluck the big juicy ones and throw them at each other, staining our clothes.

blackberries remind me of the cool summer evenings when we would twirl around in my back field, looking at the evening sky with the just-about-setting-sun. Fireflies were everywhere. Bats darted about in the twilight. The peepers and crickets and soft wet grass.

What great memories!

My second triathlon

Alright. Hold the phones. This triathlon was a lot harder!! Jesus! I flew out to Portland Oregon to see my long lost bad-ass-plays-sports-like-a-man friend, who joined me in a triathlon. When I signed up for this race, it didnt occur to me that I was going to be in an "outdoorsy" area, where people work out all the time unlike Georgia where people drive all the time.

At any rate, I again did not swim well. I swam better than the last time but I still dont get it. I swim all the time in the warm, calm, relaxing pool at the Y. It should be no problem to swim in the Columbia river right?

Once I swam through seeweed, I ran up the beach to my borrowed bike. My previous bike experience was awesome so I fully expected to just kick ass. Well, ass was kicked and it was the hills that did the kicking. What a hard race!

The main point to make is the psychological bullshit my brain does to me. Every inch of me wanted to get off my bike (burning quads have that affect) - but you have to keep going. When I started training back in May I made a couple rules with myself that no matter what I had to:
1. finish
2. never get off the bike

This was tough, I questioned why the hell I was doing these endurance sports. After all what point am I trying to make here? However the finish line has a way of cheering you up for days, weeks even. There are no words to describe this feeling, even though I am trying. As cheesy as it sounds, you really can do it. I never thought I could. It wasnt possible in my brain and now I am addicted to it.

So with two triathlons down I am done for the season. ha ha. No really I am. Now I get to train my tail off so I can whoop some serious ass in March.

The glass is half empty today

It's gorgeous and sunny outside and I am in my pajamas still, working from home. With all of this running I have been doing my left ankle is really bothering me today so I opted for the safe route and am icing it. Deep down though this ankle pain seems as though it is seeping out of my heart and into other body parts to get me to pay attention. I have good days, great days and lonely days. Today is the latter of the three, where I seem to have lost my grip on the "everything is going to be alright" line and am slipping into the "oh my god, my life is too hard". Which it really isn't. I have my health, a healthy child, a roof over my head. I am not swimming through feet of water due to a hurricane. But man, this single parenthood is an empty lonely place. My older friends call it "trailblazing", when you are the first in your group of friends to: get married, buy a house, have a baby, get divorced, etc. I have done all of that already, all on my own warp-speed of living and it has left me empty in a way I am finding hard to describe. Having done all of this, it still isn't enough.

This is a good "I want my mom" day. A day where someone says "everything is going to be alright", and I can blubber words through tears and not feel ashamed for the dumb choices I have made. Where I can laugh at how pathetic I am even though I feel like a pancake on the sidewalk that no one is noticing. Most of this loneliness is my own fault. I tend to make sure people think I am a tough cookie and that "I am fine" when I am truly quite the opposite.

In my next life I want to be a 68 Camaro.

I sort of believe in reincarnation. And with that said, in my next life I want to come back as a 68 Camaro. A red one with metallic-fleck-type paint job. OOh and racing stripes. If I were a car I would be THIS car. Hopefully there is an 8-track of Van Halen's "Aint Talkin' Bout Love" permanently jammed in the deck and stuck on repeat, too.

Think about it. This car is BADASS. It's gorgeous. It turns heads. It hauls ass. People respect it. MEN respect it. It always has a place in the garage. It burns rubber, leaving mere mortals in a cloud of smoke. The engine rumbles. It has a story to tell, and stories yet to be discovered.

Ladies, what kind of car would you be??

I have kept my child alive for 2 whole years!

I got up at 5AM in Austin Texas today, and in between 5AM and now I have had numerous conference calls, emails, plane rides, bus rides and car rides. On top of which I also baked a cake ( I couldn't bring myself to buy the cake too! I do have some motherly instinct in me), bought and wrapped presents, went grocery shopping, decorated my dining room and ordered pizza.

Now I am sitting here reflecting on this exact moment, 2 years ago. It's hard not to think of how far you have come. I mean 2 years ago at 9:49 PM I was pushing my son out of my body. This pushing experience brings back memories of huge veins popping out of my forehead as I tried to hold the push-pose for an 8 count. My eyes felt swollen in their sockets and with each push I swore one was going to burst. And now, I am sitting here comfortably, healthy, happy for the most part - so far from even a remote chance of being pregnant. At times I amazed I made it through the hazing phase of motherhood when I was so sure I wasn't going to.

I was very recently in Austin Texas and came across the weirdest sign. It read, and I kid you not "Jamie's is a breastfeeding friendly restaurant!". I promptly took out my camera and snapped a picture of it to share with you all. What the HELL KIND OF MARKETING IS THAT?? I don't want to see anyone breastfeed while I eat my dinner! I am all for the discrete nursing mom who drapes a blanket over her and you don't really notice - but please please please don't whip your naked milk-engorged boob out while I am eating! yuck.

Later on this evening, I proudly brought out my son cake while singing happy birthday to him. His cousins chimed in, and I was amazed to hear him singing along too! How cool! THEN HE BLEW OUT HIS OWN CANDLES. I didn't know he knew how to do that. We have only had one other time to practice this! My twin brother caught my expression on my face immediately after he did it.

Enjoy.
nighty night.
Flydi

wow!

I ate a toy one night

A few years ago, as a 3-week old bride I ate a toy in the middle of the night while I was sleeping. No lie. My x-husband and I went to Virginia to visit his Uncle and family on our way down from Boston. We had packed up his explorer with all my stuff and drove there. His teenage cousin graciously offered us her room to sleep in while we stayed with them. I forgot all about this until today while I was shopping at a toy store and came across a clear plastic bin of the exact toy I ate. It all came flooding back.

Now, this is the first time I meet these people and I pull the weirdest stunt of my ever-lovin' life?????? *sigh* Enjoy the details!

Ok, so I was dreaming of a butler passing a tray of semi-circular dark chocolates by my face with a very serious sense of urgency. Eating one of these chocolates was a life or death situation for me, so I slipped my pointer finger under the chocolate and popped it into my mouth. During this dream I remember feeling my hand brush against the hardwood floor next to the bed I was sleeping in. I faintly remember putting something in my mouth and biting it, chewing it as it's brutally bitter taste flooded my tastebuds. In a daze I pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand next to the bed and spit out what was left in my mouth. I folded up the tissue and put it on the floor by the bed and drifted off into a deeper sleep.

At some point I woke up due to the horrible taste in my mouth. I started to think about what I had done and couldn't really believe it myself even though I had all kinds of "textured" pieces in my mouth. The taste was so foul I was convinced I had picked up some cat shit and ate it. With this thought consuming my brain, I got up and slipped quietly into the bathroom and smiled into the mirror. Black specks covered my teeth. I brushed my teeth several times and began to wonder what was in the tissue on the floor by my side of the bed. I climbed back into bed and picked up the tissue and could feel that there was indeed something in the tissue. At this point it's about 7 am and I wake up my x-husband.

"Ah, honey I need to tell you something. I did something really weird."

which freaked him out!! man he was wide awake glaring at me as though I slipped out of bed in the middle of the night and slept with the farmer next door. unreal.

anyway, I recapped what I had done and then unfolded the tissue for us both to see just what it was I had tried to eat in the middle of the night. Colored wood, a head I suppose that had two little eyes painted on it lay mangled in my hand with all kinds of splinters and fragments. It was abundantly clear that I had picked up a little wooden toy turtle, the one with the bobbing heads, off of the floor and ate most of it.

Now, what I didn't know until two weeks later was that I was pregnant. Apparently you do weird things when you are pregnant. I haven't stopped doing weird things, but you have to admit that this is really strange!!

Holy shit, I finished.

triathlon

Swim, Bike, Run and then Cry tears of joy

There is no better feeling on the planet than forcing yourself to do something you hate, realizing you don't hate it and that you can in fact suck it up and do it. Let me also mention how great it feels to do something you never dreamed possible. This experience was harder than child birth with the same result at the end. Not exactly the same, but the end result being a type of happiness you cant describe but must experience to understand. I say that child birth was easier because of a couple of things: I was heavily medicated and I had no choice but to give birth. It's not like I could say after 12 hours of labor, that I had had enough and was going home! Oh no. My body was going to have a baby no matter what my brain wanted to do. This triathlon was harder because I had to make myself keep going. If my brain told me to stop, I could . That's the hard part.

This past Sunday I completed the Acworth Women's Triathlon in 1 hour 46 minutes. I have never ever enjoyed running, but I did this time. It was actually the easiest part of the whole experience. The swimming part was complete insanity. Let me start from the beginning, at 4:30 AM

4:30 AM - I awake from my sleep at the lovely Econo Lodge to the sound of an engine that wont turn over outside. Someone swears and slams a rusty door. I sit up, my heart pounding with excitement and grab my blackberry. It reads "4:27 AM" much to my relief. My adrenaline is surging through my body, my hands ache from the nervousness that is building inside of me. Today is the day!

5:00AM - I am now in my $85 dollar Nike bathing suit, applying "Bull Frog" sunblock to my shoulders while eating a power bar. I am now shiny. This sunblock is like a silicone spray, damnit - I look like a pro wrestler now.

5:30AM - my bag is packed, I have ingested some gatorade and STILL cant decide what to wear for the race. Just a bathing suit for the swim and then yank on my padded bike shorts for the bike while - WET? OR wear it all in the water and hop on the bike in no time flat? Hmm. I opt for the complete package so I can increase my speed. (who am I fooling here? I am not here to win, or compete but to simply finish!)

6:00AM - My fabulous friend, Yellow Lightnin', is being wheeled out of my hotel room to be strapped onto the roof rack of the waiting car. I love this bike. I "adopted" it from Decatur Yellow Bike, http://www.dybikes.org/faq.htm and then re-built most of it. Yes, I took every piece apart on this, including the tires, brakes, gears, pedals and seat. Now it is a speed machine with a sticker on it that reads "Adopted". awww.


Ok, so I will hurry this up a bit more. It was dark as we pulled into the park and down to the fog coated lake for the start of the race. Women were everywhere, all different shapes and sizes which I found liberating and exciting! There were the 2% body fat types, there were big girls and there were people 35 years older than I - all here to bring it. sweet.

I walked up to the bike area where they were blasting Earth, Wind & Fire reminding me to enjoy this experience. A woman takes out a permanent marker and draws 449 on both of my shoulders, both thighs and then writes my age on my calf. This was actually a godsend later as I struggled to find the motivation to keep running until I noticed the 57 on the women's calf in front of me. What was my excuse? If she can run so can I, get going!

I stood on the beach in my bathing suit, bike shorts, fluorescent green swim cap and goggles ringing my hands with anticipation. There were over 500 women participating and my group was the last to go. We cheered all the other waves on as they started their swim too. Would men do that?? NO freaken way!


I stood at the back of the pack, hoping I would be somewhat free from the craziness of 100 women diving in at the same time. WRONG. "go!" bellowed from the megahorn and we all dashed into the water. Some started swimming right away, in knee deep water mind you, others piled on top of one another, I found a spot to doggie paddle and tried to calm my own ass down. Water was splashing everywhere, bodies were on top of me, next to me - I couldn't find enough space to put my face in the water and start swimming. Finally enough space opened up and I could lay in the water and stretch out my 5'9 body and go. That is until some loser in front of me flipped over on her back and started doing the backstroke. This particular stroke requires lots of leg propulsion, causing a small rooster tail of water - thus drowning those who are trying to swim directly behind them. Unreal. So I doggie paddled my way to the first buoy. I was so exhausted by the first buoy I seriously doubted why the hell I was doing this race to begin with.
I swam mainly the breast stroke and fought my way through my own lack of oxygen to get to the other side. Everyone cheering makes such a difference! I ran out of the water, stripping my swim cap an goggles off, waved to the camera and bee-lined it to my yellow chariot.

They time you on everything. How fast you swim, how fast you change from swimming to biking, how fast you bike, how fast you change from biking to running and lastly how fast you run. If you aren't constantly thinking "go, go go go!" in your head you are not focused. :) ha ha.

I tossed on my bike helmet, latched it under my chin, drank some gatorade and put my sneakers on. You have to run next to your bike until you cross the bright red spray painted line where you can mount your bike and haul ass. I did just that. My bike was awesome. I peddled up the hill, past all the folks who swam much faster than I and breezed out onto the main road. I wasn't quite sure what had just transpired. All I knew was I was wet, wearing a bathing suit and peddling my butt off! I did this very well for 6 miles, passing more and more people. The entire ride was 13. That feels GREAT. I am sorry but it does!

About the time I finished the bike, my body was in shock. Not for what I had just done but for what I still had to do. A 3.1 mile run. Oy vey. I did it though. I ran the whole way (except for the hill right at the beginning). I charged down toward the finish line, all kinds of people cheering me on into a shower. The showers were brought to us by Hansgrogh (sp?) and what an epiphanic experience! I had finished in under two hours. A medal was draped over my head making me feel like a little girl at her first horse show, and I struggled not to cry in front of my good friend as he handed me a bottle of water.

I am still in shock that I even did this. The past two years have been hell, full of self-doubt, severe illness, homesickness, sleep deprivation, abuse, anger, etc. I haven't done anything for myself like this, ever. I have never consistently put myself and my own needs ahead of anyone else. There's no way to train for a triathlon if you don't. I have pulled myself out of a violent, controlling marriage and proven how strong I am by finishing this. I have triumphed. I am more important to myself as a result. It's ok now, I have myself to rely on and my yellow bike.

triathlon

There are more of us out there

I found Rachel Sara last night: http://www.literarymama.com/columns/goingitalone/
She describes feelings I have felt about being a dating single mom, the "bad girl" side in particular. A side of myself I thoroughly enjoy but curse equally as much.

Here is a snippet for you all:

"This bad girl hasn't been out in a long time. That's what I call her -- "the bad girl" -- even though she's not exactly bad. She's this desperate part of me that wants too badly to feel strong. She makes her most dramatic appearances when I'm feeling out of control, and the only way to calm her is to seek a man and wander into dangerous territory with him. Briefly, when she's in his arms -- in another circumstance, it could almost be mistaken for love -- she's safe and powerful. She can lean over the edge of a cliff, and she knows she will not fall."

Thank you Rachel Sara, that about sums it up.

I also came across the best poem on her site., "Perspective, by Deanna Jones".
http://www.literarymama.com/poetry/archives/000737.html
It describes my 2 year old son perfectly.

I will now go clean up after my tornado two year old.
Flydi

Triathlon training.....

In a matter of days I will embarke on my first triathlon. My body has transformed somewhat which I am rather pleased with. After all I kick my own ass several times per week. What's important here is how I got here. I have to make an effort to do it. My YMCA has a child care center - so my son can play, or rather I can work out while he plays. Fortunately he is such a happy little guy that he actually enjoys it. However, twice I have been so overcome with guilt while riding the stationary bike I had to stop and go get him. After all the poor kid is in day care all day, he spends an hour with me and I drop him back off at yet another day care center? ALL because I am trying to train for a triathlon? Something feels wrong about that inside of me. I recently came up with a better solution though. I time my work out to coincide with the "open swim" hour. I do my 400 yards and race through the locker room and scoop blondie boy up, wrap a bathing suit around him and take him swimming! ta-dah! He loves it.
I float on my back with him on my chest and he pretends to swim. At least it is a temporary patch to my guilt.

So back to my point. I wanted to do a triathlon the day I found out I weighed 205 pounds. Granted I was 9 months pregnant, but still! 205 pounds?!! I spent the first 6 weeks of my sons life going for brisk walks and trying to loose the weight. TOUGH job when you are sleep deprived. In the past two years I have gathered the courage to go through a divorce and fight Grave's Disease. Last summer my body went hyperthyroid on me making me very sick. I lost about 2 pounds a day, and had no strength. I couldnt turn the shower off, or lift a gallon of milk. I also couldnt sleep. My resting heart rate was around 140. This is all behind me now and I am finally stronger than ever. Finishing this triathlon represents an end to an old way of life. A paradigm shift into a whole new life oriented around doing what's best for me, first. I hope I can really grasp onto this and weave this thread through my love life too.

Wonder Woman was also called Diana

Hey, not bad eh? What cha think about that one?! I even have a clock that reads "with eye blurring speed, Di changes into her secret identity of the famous Amazon..."

Aint that the truth! And let me just point out that I have been repressing my famous amazonness. Had I not, I would have ripped a particular dude's head off this past week, tied my truth-telling lasso around him and thwaped him on the head via my high-heeled red boots. Mister platonic friend-guy, mister "I just want to make sure you don't think I am a dog". Oh No sweetie not at all! How could I when you show up at 11 with your clothes for the next day, dump me and then suggest that we become friends with benefits??? All of this just after you ask me to tell you how I feel, where I bravely admit to liking you a lot. No you're not a dog, or a snake - both of which would be an improvement over your current state of narcissism. You're more like the geek from high school who thinks he's cool now, licking the bowl of attention to make sure you didn't miss any. After pondering your valiant efforts to ensure I wasn't mad at you I have drawn the following conclusion; you don't want to feel guilty about indulging yourself in a fling with me that was driven by your insecure ego. NOT MY PROBLEM DUDE! Take your pretty blue eyes and scram.

Ladies, if it walks like an ass, and talks like one it's probably an ASS.

Dating
men

Single motherhood screams serious commitment??????

Jesus. JESUS! I could scream I am so frustrated. Why do you men cease to HEAR my words and continue to draw conclusions off of the societal bullshit that surrounds single mothers?? I don't live in a trailer park, I am not living off of welfare or the random twenties my baby-daddy gives me fo diapers ya know. I don't need you. Let me refresh your memory on grizzly bears. If you happen to come across a female grizzly bear with cubs the odds that you might die in the next 1/2 hour are pretty high. Now, take that same instinctual protectiveness and apply it to me. What makes you think I wouldn't protect my son and be sure to only put him in front of a man who loves his mother, would never hurt him and would only make his life better by being in it? This is not something you learn after 3 dates dude. This is more like a couple years of time together.

(click here to see Grizzlies attack)
http://ad-rag.com/124.php

My dating life is plagued with an underground riptide of fear. You men think I want a serious relationship with you. That my tentacles will wrap around you and drag you into the abyss of obligation and guilt - NEVER TO RETURN. You have come right out and told me this yourselves. THANK YOU for the honesty.

1. You don't know me well enough to assume I want a serious relationship because I have "my son and all"
2. You aren't THAT great a guy to introduce to my amazing, happy child as someone he can get attached to. So get over yourself.
3. How much time do you think I have here?? Enough to actually BE in a serious relationship?

You guys should be more worried about getting along with ME, and if I am into you. Instead you hear "single mom" and start worrying about my clingyness and start imagining riding around in a mini van going to soccer practice or some shit. I don't even want to do that! I want to be seduced during my time-off from mommy duty, I want to escape the sadness of time without my son and forget about the bazillion things I have to take care of before my next business trip. An example would be a relaxing dinner and good conversation. There's a start! Oh yeah, and don't ask me about breastfeeding (see archives) during dinner.

In summary I am not a intentional commitmentphobe. Quite simply I would love to fall in love with someone who doesn't assume doing so would be a burden to him.

single motherhood

Ode to Chemistry

The big ol dating variable comes down to my dear friend mother nature. She gets to determine if I want to rip a guys clothes off or fumble around trying to explain my issue with dating shorter men. I am not good at or used to having chemistry with someone I dont actually get to date. If it exists I go for it. If it doesnt I dont go for it. None of this "let's be friends" and supress our instinctual-urges-to-mate stuff. I am learning though. This might have something to do with the "loves a challenge" part of my brain and therefore I have even bigger issues than I previously thought. My checklist of things a guy must have (OH shut up you all of them!!!) is long and flexible and I was under the impression that I just hadnt met the right combo yet. According to other handsome male-friends of mine I seek out men who arent available, and men who dont compete with me on a career level - then I get bored with them for the same reason. Huh. I wonder. Actually, I disagree. I tend to go on chemistry instead of common sense and have yet to learn how to be attracted to someone where chemistry is null and void. I have tried though. I know a few just-about-perfect guys out there, and OF COURSE I had no interest what-so-ever in seeing them naked. Mother nature be damned! frustrating! Why cant I just re-wire my brain??

I digress. So I am approaching the friends-first, chemistry-second tactic with wide open arms. I dont know what I am doing, though so if you are in this category and reading this please grab me and kiss me so I know what the fuck to do next. When do I put the moves on hot sexy friends? Am I giving them the wrong signal and they think I really want to be "just friends". This is so southern-belle of me cause I prefer to pepper my conversation with lude sexual comments and am constantly shouting out nonsense from the gutter. This is usually ok with friends I dont want to screw. BUT with friends I do want to screw it gets all complicated. I am much more agressive in nature than this. I see something I want, I go get it. Nuff said.

Any advice would be much appreciated.

Feminists Unite! wow!

Wow, I posted this on the joint custody site - the subject was about involuntary joint custody. Which I have. I volunteered joint custody with my x so my son would be with both of us.
Here's what I wrote:

Ahh, how many of you are :1. divorced?2. getting divorced?3. parents?4. dealing with join custody yourself?
I highly encourage those who are not actually experiencing the pain of divorce and joint custody to remember just that. As a liberal feminist I cant believe some of the comments on this site - they HAVE to be from folks who dont have children, or an x-spouse or half a brain for that matter. Staying married “for the sake of the kids” is the worst idea ever. Children need to see how to resolve conflict and be given a chance to see their parents happy or at the very least happier. Joint custody may not be the greatest solution, but too many adults put their own needs, wishes, fears, ideals, morals, etc first instead of doing what is best for the children.
Having just gone through a mediated divorce in Georgia and determining a custody schedule with a very difficult x-husband, I found myself wishing that Georgia also had the Maryland “cooling off year”. What a progressive idea! SO much changes in the first year of divorce, custody is tough. So many emotions and a bonafide feeling of loss. It’s not natural to not know if your child is ok or where he or she is!
Custody is difficult no matter how much theory you apply to it. It is infuriating to receive advice on custody from arrogant non-parent experts. I think we should educate and furnish tools to parents on mediating parental differences and continue to offer support as the new custody arrangements begin and develop. As a parent I would love to have someone provide factual information to both my x and I so we can make the best decision for our son.

and someone gave me a shout out! woo hoo!
Rock Writes: July 6th, 2005 at 11:00 pm
The fact is that many men are totally irresponsible and do not support there children; custody or no. Often they are busy with the new family and pay little attention to the kids. It has been the burden of mothers to pick up the slack and do double duty for years as many dads are flakes with no conscience. (Sadly drugs are producing moms that are this way as well.)
Amp is right in that forcing someone into relationships does not make sense. If they are not compelled to care and cooperate and be responsible as they should be anyway, what is forcing them going to do but cause more resentment that generally gets taken out on the kids?
Hats off to Barbara, Lee, Flydi, you definitely have the upper hand in this discussion, I am purly impressed with your patience in the face of blatant ignorance. Blessings.

Joint Custody Rant

I came across this site:
http://www.amptoons.com/blog/archives/2005/05/13/involuntary-joint-custody-is-a-bad-idea/

all kinds of experts, with no children of course, giving advice on joint custody! the nerve!

Happy 4th!

Everybody Loves An American Girl, right?

And most American girls have loved everyone. ha ha haha.

I am sorry folks, I am trying not to give up hope with dating but it's not a lot of fun. Apparently I tend to date (and marry, ha ha) lazy bums and have become surprised when a guy offers to help or even better, just plain helps out without being asked! After a rainy 4th of July I am all coupled out. This past weekend was a whole lot of happy couples and not a lot of reality, ya know? I mean my brother and his happy family, my sister and her fabulous man, my best friend and her guy - all of them having a great time together, and then there was me and my son. MY SON took it upon himself to dig out a photo album and run around showing everyone pictures of his father and saying in his cute baby voice "Daydeeee. dadeee." Um hello?!! Even if you have a cold black heart that would make you feel bad for the little guy. I still feel like a piece of crap as I am the "plaintiff" who whisked his dad away. *sigh* poor kid.
Anyway. back to the couple stuff. Lots of talk about big foofie weddings and stellar examples of how a man should treat his future sister-in-law (that would be me). I mean my sister's man is a good guy. He wasn't afraid of the two year old even though he was on his worst behavior and SCREAMING all weekend, he fixed my bathroom, he cooked dinner and cleaned up the kitchen, he helped me carry stuff, he paid for gas, on and on and on.

I thanked him and even pointed out what a nice, helpful guy he is and how surprised I am by all the help. He replied with "Diane, I think you need to raise your standards."

I agree. but that would mean dating women.

My house sucker-punches me

I have just spent the past 4 days or so with my darling son. He uses real words to talk to me now and even insists that I help him sweep the floor by dragging out both brooms and screaming if I stop sweeping. it's quite adorable. All day I was sorta looking forward to some time to myself this weekend as he is with his father, ya know catch up on errands, do some painting, etc. I pulled into my driveway - relieved to be home after herding cats all week, as I got out of my car I dove heart-first into reality. My son was not in the car, nor was he in the house or going to be for that matter. Genuine pain slithered it's way around my heart. I walked up to the mailbox and noticed the little baseball bat laying in the grass, where little man had left it this morning. I fought hard to keep a grip on my relaxed happy state, but my heart aches to the point of dispair when he is not with me. Shuffling my feet up the stairs of my deck I tried to find a way to describe this pain to you all. The only thing that comes to mind is the way you feel when you come home to your house after a pet has died. They dont run to great you, there is evidence of them everywhere and you miss their love for you. Multiply that by a gazillion and that's about how I feel.

flydi

single motherhood

Awwww....Boston you're my home

I JUST got home from work and ran smack into an email containing this link.
http://www.cyburbia.org/forums/showthread.php?t=10814

I am now insanely homesick. I miss the cobblestone streets, the summer concerts, the sail boats on the Charles, all the Italians, the Irish, the students. sniff. sniff. I miss *gasp* Mike's Pastries, I miss Foodmaster, I miss the peruvian band that performs all summer in Harvard Square, I miss WALKING around a city and the smell of candy coated roasted peanuts, I miss all the suits and happy hours, I miss all the construction workers with their igloo coolers for lunch boxes. I miss taking the T, I miss Fenway Park and the Patriots.

I moved to Atlanta so I could be married to my x-husband. We agreed to live in both cities and figure out where we wanted to go from there. We never ever left Atlanta. In part because I discovered I was pregnant and couldnt stop vomiting. But MAN DID I GET THE SHIT END OF THE STICK OR WHAT?!!!! I am now stuck here in Atlanta. By stuck I mean I have to go to court and fight a custody battle to have any chance of taking my son back east with me. That's only if the courts think that's a good idea for him. They first evaluate the life I will be taking him from - which consists of a big family (my x's family of course) and lots of cousins. He loves his grandma. To top it all off if the courts agreed to let me leave WITH my child I would then be the reason he was no longer visiting with his father. This would cause great resentment in him and he would then leave me when he is a teenager, in the middle of the night I am sure, to go live with his dad in georgia.
That sucks. So I am stuck in Atlanta.

wahhhhh haaaa haaa.

To the loser who STOOD ME UP

Here comes a for real WHAT THE FUCK?? Yeah - you will read this I am certain as you check my blog out from time to time. I am so irritated with you, not because you STOOD ME UP but because you and I talked on the phone about all the LOSERS I have met off of fucking match.com. We joked about this. You assured me you were not one of them. You offered encouragement, you suggested getting together and even wrote to me to tell me you were looking forward to it. Well, congrats you have now skyrocketed yourself from "what a cool guy, cant wait to meet him" to the top of the fucking loser pile. Yep - NUMERO UNO spot is now yours. I have never been stood up before. EVER. YOU even called to tell me you overslept and were on your way!!! Dear god, why bother? Whomever you met the night before must have been in the shower when you called me so SHE probably had no idea what a busy guy you were SUPPOSED to be.

Did I scare you off when I told you about the bodybuilder lunatic I dated in Boston who shaved his legs?
(click here to see who I am talking about)
http://www.boston.com/personals/galleries/bestcatch0104/finals/men/iradius.htm

I mean you did mention that you had at one point been a power lifter.

So, Luke or "Freekat109" for doing this I am going to suggest some new screen names for you to use on match.com:

WASTEOFTIME
Lukewarmandpathetic
AllTalkNoAction
Smallpenisboyforyou

Good luck to you. If you see me, dont say Hi and expect me to be thrilled to see you. In fact, you should duck if you are that DUMB.

flydi

Trouble makers.

Beaver or????

The Beaver

On a recent trip to Washington DC I encountered a beaver. I was strolling along, enjoying Roosevelt Island and it all it has to offer when I noticed a beaver. I was in shock. I frantically wrestled my camera out of my purse and chased after it. It was swimming very fast and I had to jog somewhat along the bike path to catch the above picture. I then realized it was a big fat RAT.

I told a friend of mine about this, and in between fits of laughter he mentioned that Washington himself might have seen a beaver a couple hundred years ago AND did it not occur to me that I was in a major metropolitan area?? Ok. no. it did not.

I sent this picture to him and warned him "dont take a sip of coffee and read this email. snarfing coffee hurts."

he responded with "so does snarfing beaver".

2 points for that comeback! nice job!