Hunting

So. I just remembered this story while out walking my dog. I was thinking about some of the weirdest dates I had been on thus triggering an e-contest with my friends to see who could come up with the oddest and/or funniest date. Votes are still rolling in, but I believe I may have the winner.

A while ago I met a nice guy for a late dinner at a diner. He is very handsome, big blue eyes, tall, fit, nice smile - ya know all the superficial stuff. He swore that he "loved kids" and even had the job to prove it as he is a middle school phys ed teacher. I thought "ok, this guy has some potential". Woooo hooo was I wrong! Man I am already laughing as I type this thinking back to when I thought this was even a possibility.

Ok, the first red flag goes a little somethin' like this: during dinner he talks about sleeping with some girl who showed up at his friends house when they were watching football. He had never met her before, wasnt attracted to her but since she was willing "why not?". Sleeping is a much kinder word than what he used. I dont even remember why he was telling me this!

Next was the description of how he typically meets women. "I go to the mall and have no problem asking girls for their phone number. Sometimes I run into my students and ask them where all the nice girls are." WTF????? His students?? PICKING UP CHICKS AT THE MALL??? This bohunk is almost 40 folks. Yuck.

He tried to convince me to let him come over to my house. Bad idea. All I wanted to do was have the date end! I told him that we didnt have a lot in common and that I wasnt the right girl for him. He continued to ask me why, and with each attempt I grew more and more impatient with him as he clearly didnt get that I was an inch away from shoving an apple in his mouth and roasting him on a spit. I did however manage to tell him that my dog loved to go swimming, leading into the fact I am an outdoorsy type person and he is not - YET another reason we were not a good fit.

His response is painfully funny. He launched into a description of hunting with his cats. Yes ...CATS. "hunting is about as outdoorsy as you can get" he said, "I felt bad for my cats so I brought them with me one day to hunt squirrels." I naturally assumed the cats were on their own, but I went ahead and asked anyway "How did you keep track of your cats while you were laying very still in the grass hunting squirrels?". He replied with, I kid you not, "Oh I didnt let them out of the carrier! Christ they would have run away! I just wanted them to watch me."

Such a waste of a handsome man. *sigh*

Sleep

I recently came across this picture and it made me laugh out loud. I am so completely asleep in this picture, I remember that exact night of sleep very well. It was the first night my son had slept through the night! He was three months old and we were visiting my family in Massachusetts.

The little guy is so cute in this picture, big bags under his eyes yet so tickled to be laying there! He hasnt changed a bit!

Sleep well, ya'll. ha .ha.

Flydi

First Trip to the Beach

The Nationwide Virtual Cat Fight

Wow, what a busy week it has been here at Blogdamnit headquarters. People are even calling me about all of the posts on here, not to mention the additional debating going on at happy hour. "To each his own" and "live and let live" seem to be the theme. Some think it is the god-given right for Southern Belles to live in their 1940's style of ignorance assuming those that don't live like they do are awful people and should git thy-self to church ASAP. The master manipulators that they are, they must be exhausted trying to make this world a better place while looking so darn perfect at the same time. I may just start a national "wear white shoes in October" day to drive them nuts. Pushing those Belle's buttons is irresistible!

All of this bickering made me think back to the all-women triathlon I finished this past summer. Let me first remind you of how hard a triathlon is to begin with. It takes about 2 hours to finish sprint distance if you train for it. I was shocked to see sooooo many women there on race day. There were bionic types to couch potatoes. Most were there to start this race and become an entirely different person when they finished. I was amazed at how supportive the female species was to each other. Women were helping and cheering each other on during the swim, and as I started out on the run I realized that most men would NEVER support each other this way. That's what's so great about women, we rally for each other. The "strength in numbers" theme of the labor unions is instinctual to us. The bionic women who finished the race in an hour looped back around to run with women who were struggling and needed some cheerleading. It was simply amazing. Those that finished the race cheered on all the women who were still going. Women also did this when I was violently ill during my pregnancy. They would discover why I had a vacant stare on my face due to the extensive nausea I suffered from and they would help, immediately. Puking in public is humiliating and I remember this lady, a complete stranger getting out of her car and bringing me a warm washcloth to clean up with. Women are nurturers in many, many ways. All of their actions an expression of themselves.

Cat Fight
Pregnancy

Attack of the Southern Belles!

Drama! A southern belle has raised her Mary Kay spackled head and tried to attack! Of course, she is incognito and too afraid to leave her email address or her own blog link for me to respond to her pathetic attempt at “reprimanding” my evil ways. All she has done has further confirmed my opinion of “Sweet Southern Belles”, You’re FAKE. How can you be so sweet and caring, a self-appointed-motherhood-expert who hasn’t walked a mile ever – let alone in others shoes, and leave such a mean comment on a complete strangers blog? I bet you would even say “Bless your heart, you don’t even realize how much of a bitch I am” to me in person!

I fed her to the wolf pack this morning. My email has been buzzing away with responses and I just had to share with EVERYONE (that’s over 200 visitors per day) what went down with this loser from Florida.

Here’s what started it all:

SweetSouthernBelle writes:
Let me start off by saying .. I am a Southern Belle my mothere is from NC and my Father is from BOSTON .. and I can say with all honesty that my heart lies in the south .. I have spent time in both places .. and the south is a much friendlier kinder place to be. I have also noticed a trend with Women from the North that their priorities are a bit skewed.. Women such as yourself put themselves before their family and their children..Your carreer means more to you than your child .. Your "ME" time is more important to you than the time you could be spending with your child..sadly enough I have read your blog and was very unimpressed with the person you are ..It is not enough to just keep a human being "alive" you must have compassion and love and be able to ineract with that child on their level . It is not about knowing when they are going to fall or get hurt it is about being able to comfort that child when they do get hurt and have the gentleness that all mothers should have .. That touch that makes everything in the world right in that childs world. You are exactly what I would expect from a woman that was raised in Boston .. Please do not take that as a compliment because it is not intended as one ..I have read your entire blog and the only person you truly are concerned about is YOURSELF... Maybe if you were a better woman you wouldn't be divorced or maybe you could find yourself a nice well educated man.. As for myself I am a well educated Southern belle that puts my family ahead of everything else. So grow up and learn what is truly important in life .. Stop with all the "poor me's"and stop throwing yourself all the pitty parties you induldge yourself with .. and start being a REAL WOMAN and a REAL Mother! ! ! ! !


And here are the responses! Woo hoo!!

1. I think by 'Sweet Southern Belle' she really meant 'Stupid Southern Bitch'.
Clearly she has some issues if she has to lash out at strangers online!
And by writing a message like this she's only driving the entire point of your blog home.
Keep doing what you're doing. This woman will never be truly happy.

2. Holy crap, what a beaytch. Let's Google-bomb her.

3. Don't southern belles know that if you don't have anything nice to say, DON'T SAY
ANYTHING AT ALL?? A real care giver knows how to care for a family AND herself. This
lady is going to snap one day, trust me.

4. She needs to get laid.

5. What a bitch! I hope you put her in her place! She's probably at home, thumping her bible, praying for your soul and praying that you become a better mother! LOL LOL LOL LOL

6. Seriously, let me at her! I am appalled!!!!!!!!!!!!! What a freakin' beeeeatch! Yeah, she is just full of southern freaking charm. Puuullllllllllleeeasse!!!!!!!
Please, please tell me you won't take a single thing she said seriously. This woman has about as much individualism as a freaking lemming.
You're a wonderful mother and person. You grow stronger, smarter, deeper, wiser, and more beautiful every time I talk to you. You're open and honest and you put it out there. You care more about your son that anything. And you are still an individual. That is what gets me. Just because you have a child doesn't mean you have to be less of yourself. Your heart and mind did not shrink in order to make room for this child - they grew bigger. Too many people have children and a family as an excuse to stop being an individual.
Those who can't lead follow. Those who can't be a 21st century woman become her. They put their husband and their children and the rest of their family first because they have to. They can't think for themselves. It's easier that way. Individual thought takes time. It takes practice. And confidence. It is the essence of being human. Always making sure everyone else is happy isn't harder - it's easier. Never worrying about yourself - it's a cop out of your own life. Well, ya know what, southern belle, you're not yourself. You're no one. You're nothing. You're just some photoshopped face pasted into a family portrait. You don't have a personality. You are another faceless, SUV driving, Starbucks toting, manicured, dolled up, Kate Spade carrying, generic stepford wife whose life is on auto-pilot.
Trust me, Flydi is a more of a human being than you can ever hope to be. Now stop reading this blog and go back to your damn Nicholas Sparks novel.

6. Let me start off by saying that sweetsouthernbelle1215 should know about what she speaks before she pontificates or spews such ugliness. I know this "blogger" you speak of and I know her well. That you dog her makes me insanely upset. I see her every week with her child and know that nothing and no one is more important to her than this child. Having said that, she is an adult who has and will continue to provide for herself emotionally instead of placing that burden on her children as would appear you do. Your children have the potential to grow up with the inflated sense of self due to you making them the center of your universe. Take responsibility for your own emotional state and show your children by example as this "blogger" does every day. Do not burden your children with your "family first" crap attitude. We all have our family's needs first so don't go thinking you're something special with that directive or that you wrote the book on that topic. Because you choose to place your children's needs above your own needs gives them the sense that they are more important than others, that their needs will and must be met first before considering anyone elses. It will be our good- natured, well behavied, kind and caring chldren who will bail this country out of the financial and social ruins your children will leave it in and we will have people like you to thank for raising such selfish and self centered little bastards Like GW Bush.
Southernbelle1215, thank you from the bottom of my own southern heart. I am glad to know this blogger and find her to be one of the most repsectable, intelligent and kind mothers I've ever met. You've reminded me of how good she really is and off-center southern women can be. Thank the maker we aren't all like you!!


I love my life, thanks girls!
Flydi
southern belle
single mother
mother

If I ever get married again

Now this is more like it! Enough with all the frills, flowers and tom-foolery at weddings. It's time Rock n Roll made it's way to the aisle. I have been in so many weddings as a bridesmaid and strolled down the aisle to some romantic classical music as my delicate virgin feet stepped on rose petals, blah blah blah. BARF. Let's throw some electric guitar in there! A rock band that cuts into AC/DC as soon as the first kiss is over with a wild version of "Shook me all night long".

If I ever get married again I will request this electric guitar version of a tried-n-true wedding song. It's simply fabulous, not to mention the hot Japanese guy performing it from his little bedroom. Click on the title of this post "If I ever get married again" to see it.


I am insane. I know. You all love it.

Flydi

When I least expect it, and need it most

I burst into tears the other day. This happens when you are a single mom. I was really looking forward to a quick workout at my gym, helps to clear your head ( a little "me" time is great too). Anyway, I called ahead to make sure the day care was open, they informed it was closed that day but the following day it would be open. Bummer. So the following day I bundled up the kid and off to the gym we went. I got there, and I just knew something was off as soon as my eyes connected with the brand new bubbly front desk chick. "Oh no! our day care is closed today! I saw you walking in with him, I am so sorry!". It was all I could do to keep from freaking out on her. I mentioned that I had called, blah blah blah.

So now I am trying not to get bent out of shape over this. I load up my son in his car seat. I climb into my seat. Turn the car on and promptly burst into tears muttering something about "...just need a break! blglgeoikejlwaaaahhhh."

Angel child from the back seat becomes very quiet and then says "mommy, u crying? mommy u ok?" - it immediately makes me smile and I respond with "yes mommie is crying but I am ok and I love you". Then angel child says "Want Wallace sing mommy a song?" and he starts to sing Frosty the Snowman for me from his carseat.

Precious. 100 points for the 2 1/2 year old!

(I then took him to his favorite play ground)

Oh THANK GOD it's 2006!!

What an f-ing year 2005 was! I say that every year, I swear. 2006 ought to be a booze-fest though, I turn 30 in 2006, my little sister is getting married, other friends are getting married, yada yada yada. Can you believe that my new year's resolution last year was to "get divorced"? Done. Any others? hmmm "run a triathlon". Done x2.

Regardless of how stooopid your resolution might be, I wish everyone a wonderful New Year! Make sure it is full of stories to tell, good and bad - that's how you know you're human and really alive.
love
Flydi

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