No Fighting: A Marriage Vow

When I was a teenager, my Bishop told me he and his wife didn't fight. I was close to their family and knew them well.  I knew this wasn't a case of one spouse being submissive to the other.  I understood this was a choice.  I wanted a relationship like that; where I could be free to express my feelings without the other person blowing up at me.

I was 19 when my mother gave me this advice.  The only good fight in a marriage is the fight to keep it together.  Back then I understood "fight" as in "work hard" to keep your marriage together.  But now I find deeper meaning.  "The fight to keep it together" as in resisting the urge to blow up or get defensive - "fighting" to keep my emotions in check, to "keep it together."

I posted this on Facebook this morning: A little over 2 years ago I found a man who could make me laugh without trying, calmed me without shushing me, made my heart leap and my eyes sparkle, understood my jokes without me having to explain, who didn't ask me to be anything but my authentic truest self, and who loved me enough to do anything to keep me.  We built our relationship on a solid foundation of friendship, love, and trust, with a belief in open communication and an agreement to always give each other the benefit of the doubt.  One year ago today, I married that man.  I told him I would love him "forever & always" and I still do.  Happy Anniversary Eric!  I love you!!!

When I met Eric in January 2012, we flirted and had fun together.  We approached our affiliation as something for fun, nothing either of us wanted to get serious about.  In a matter of weeks I knew I wanted more.  5 months in, I knew I loved him, and 6 months in, he told me he loved me. And while all of the aforementioned affirmations are true, we didn't rush to an engagement.  There were issues in his past relationships that led him to be cautious.  I knew if I wanted to have a chance at marrying him, I had to be patient and go at his pace.  Looking back, this was a good thing for us.  It gave us the opportunity to continue the friendship aspect and build a solid foundation.  I didn't want to give him any reason to call it all off, so I became more aware of myself and filtered A.LOT.

I don't mean to say that I suppressed myself or my feelings.  I simply chose my words with more clarity.  I would actually think things through before saying them. If something was bugging me (which didn't happen too often), I could usually work it out in my mind without having to say anything at all, mostly by giving him the benefit of the doubt.  When I examined the evidence of his intent, it was hard to find fault.  Most of the time, if something was amiss, it was either he was tired or I was, or perhaps one of us was having a bad day and forgot to check it at the door.

If there was something I could not let go of, instead of allowing myself to feel hurt or trampled, I would ask him about it.  He did the same for me.  He gave me the benefit of the doubt and examined the evidence of my intent.  Once he made the comment, "I love how we never fight."  Only then did I learn that he too had known someone who never fought with his wife, and wanted that sort of relationship for himself.

Giving the benefit of the doubt, no doubt gives benefits in any relationship.   Giving someone the benefit of the doubt is different than making excuses for them.  It is not the same thing as being submissive or enabling the other person to treat you with disrespect.  Giving the benefit of the doubt doesn't mean ignoring issues which are toxic to the relationship either.  It simply means not jumping to conclusions. Step back, take the drama out of your initial "fight or flight" response and ask yourself what is really going on here?  And then trust your gut.  When I found time and time again, he had no motives or hidden agenda, that he wasn't trying to pick a fight, etc., I knew we could have the kind of relationship we've always wanted.

A few weeks shy of his proposal to me, Eric asked, "What happens if we decide to get married and then we disagree on something, or something happens you don't like - then what?"  He wanted to know I was in it to the end, I wouldn't just throw in the towel and run off.  I told him I don't think it would even be an issue.  Look at how we already communicate, how we already deal with conflict.  We have laid a healthy foundation for our future. We will deal with things like we do now.  We will talk and listen without judgment and we will be quick to apologize when one of us acts stupid, and we will always love each other, because that is what we already do. This has become our pattern.

And it's true.  This is how things have continued.  We do not fight.  Sure, there are times when one of us might get our knickers in a twist.  But the other one knows to stand down.  And because there isn't a knee-jerk reaction leading to a fight, stupidity is rapidly owned and apologized for.  We talk through a lot of things and I for one haven't regretted that.  I've heard some people say couples should argue to strengthen their relationship.  I don't buy that.  I think it's okay for couples to disagree, but they can do so without having to hurt or offend.  I've been in a relationship with fighting before.  It did nothing to strengthen it.  Toxicity bred more toxicity, until the whole thing was poisoned and irreconcilable.

I love my marriage.  I love my husband.  I love that we do not fight and I love that we never plan to.

Angels and Diamond Rings

Ok, so I've been meaning to tell you the story about my ring-shopping experience, but I warn you this post may be a bit wordy and filled with lots of little side commentaries.

If you've read my prior post regarding my recent proposal, then no doubt you remember that he proposed without the ring.  Of course, ring shopping immediately ensued the following week; it was sweet how he wanted me to be able to pick out the ring I wanted.

This may come as no surprise, but as we had been dating for well over a year, the thought of a proposal had crossed my mind once, or twice.  (Ok, fine, about a gazillion times!)  I had already started thinking about the type of ring I'd want should such an opportunity present itself.  I happened to see a beautiful ring on Pinterest, or maybe it was Facebook-- whatever. Anyway, it got me clicking from one site to the next.  I had seen a few features on one ring I loved and a few from another and in my mind, began to formulate this ring that I now wanted -- MY ring.

It was a white gold square halo ring with a split band.  I had decided that instead of an engagement band AND separate wedding band, a split band was a two-fer and just more 'me'.  I love halo rings.  Something about a halo of mini diamonds hugging the center stone just makes me feel...  "comfy", in a sparkly sort of way, hehe.

So I had this image in my head and we were off to a few stores on our list.  We had heard wonderful, marvelous things about Store A.  Personally, I think Eric (aka, "The Man") was more eager to visit their building to see first-hand the architectural design than he was about finding my ring there.  (I think it's a man thing.)

We parked and entered and were ushered to the 3rd floor where all of the glitzy beauties lay protected under glass; kryptonite for exes.  There is where we met Steele.  No, not a Man of Steele, nor was he Mr. Steele.  Steele was his First Name.  Cool, I thought.  Before we got started, Eric asked Steele about the history of the building, and the next thing you know, we were getting a private tour of the building, through secured doors, and into the basement where the ring designers sat and showed us how they use computer programs and 3-D printers to design and make prototypes of each unique ring.  It was A-MAH-ZING.  We felt "special", like Steele had all the time in the world just for us.  Then we rode the private elevator back to the 3rd floor where Steele showed us all sorts of beautiful rings, all top of the line and all more expensive than either of us could wrap our wallets around.  When Steele asked what sort of ring I had in mind, I told him and in turn he informed me that my ring would cost me a small fortune plus my good kidney. Yowza. We thanked him profusely, got his card and told him we'd be in touch.  And then, we left.

We proceeded to Store B.  Mustache Man and Chop Suey worked as a team to push their 1980's style gold on me.  Didn't they have anything from the current decade?  What little selection they did have was hard to see in the dimly lit room. Even my allergies were afraid of the encroaching dust bunnies.  When I explained to them what I envisioned, they did not understand and proceeded to show me other rings I would "definitely love."  Well, I had news for this duo (other than his toupee being a bit too obvious).  I only love what I actually love; not what you tell me you think I will love.  Moving on.

Time was ticking and we talked about going back to Steele and making it work.  Eric REALLY wanted me to have a beautiful ring.  But, as I thought about our upcoming wedding expenses and the fact that we were trying to get his basement finished as well, I knew that there was no way I could say yes to the ring at Store A.  How could I enjoy my ring knowing how much of a sacrifice it would be?  Or worse, anytime something might come up financially, I would feel guilt over having spent the money on the ring.  No way.  I told him we'd keep looking.

That night, after work we went to a few other places; places that have tons of commercials on TV, bragging about how all men shop there, etc.  Well, let's just say Jared's and Kay's did not impress me.  Perhaps I hadn't received very good customer service, or perhaps nothing looked as beautiful as what Steele had shown us earlier that day.  I mean, let's face it, there was a huge step down in quality when we went to the chain stores.

About ready to give up, we decided to stop in to one more jeweler, about 15 minutes before close.  The sales lady's name was Rachel.  She was a lovely woman, albeit a little bit flighty. She asked me what sort of ring I wanted. I told her I was hoping for a white gold, square halo ring with a split band.  She pointed to a selection in the case I happened to be standing in front of.  From the aerial view, nothing looked like what I wanted.  She began taking me around the store showing me other rings, similar to what I had described.  Then she started in about Angels.

"Do you believe in Angels?" she asked.

"Uhh, yes," I stammered, trying to figure out what that had to do with anything.

"So do I," she replied.  "And just talking to the two of you in this brief amount of time, I feel like an angel brought you to me."

Nice try, Ray-chel.  Nice way to try to get the sale! Hummmph!  That's not going to work, I thought.  "Oh, Mmm-Hmm," I replied, continuing to eye every single band in the case.

"And I can tell," she continued, "He really loves you.  I know you two will be happy together and I know you will find the right ring.  You will see it, and you will just know."

All right, I was thinking, cut the crap already.  I already KNOW he loves me.  I couldn't believe at what lengths some people would stoop to just to get the sale.

"Are you sure you wouldn't want to have a second glance at the hand-crafted collection?" she asked.  (That was the first set of rings she pointed out to me.)

I was tired and exhausted and we were getting ready to head out of town and time was running out.  True, I was engaged, but [insert whiny voice here] I wanted my ring!  "Okay," I sighed.  "Sure."

We walked back over to the first case.  Although this time, instead of looking at the collection through the top of the glass, I crouched down in front of it, to get a better look.  I couldn't believe my eyes.

"Let me see that one," I practically shouted.  Was it so?  Did there just happen to be a White Gold Square Halo Ring with a Split Band just SITTING THERE?  If so, how did I miss it???

I stood as she pulled the ring from the case and quickly slipped it over my ring finger.  A perfect fit - Not.Even.Kidding.

Smiling, I turned to Eric and exclaimed, "THIS is my ring!  This is the one!"  It was the EXACT ring I had in my head all along.  I looked back at Rachel as she smiled a big smile and whispered, "Angels."

When we looked at the pricing, we were shocked at how many less 0's that tag held in comparison to the one Steele had shown us earlier.  True, the quality at Store A was probably a smidge better.  But this ring at Rachel's store was WAAAAAAAY better than the chain-stores.  Still in shock, I asked Rachel, "Why are your diamonds so much less?"

She replied, "Oh, it's our company; we have our own diamond mind in Canada."  Eric and I looked at each other, and knowing what the other person was thinking, tried hard to keep from busting up laughing.  Like I said earlier, Rachel wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.  It was all I could do to keep from asking if Diamond 'Minds' produced sparkly thoughts.  Tee hee.

As simple-minded as Rachel was, we were so grateful to have went into her store that night and we were even more grateful they have their own mine in Canada, thereby cutting out the middle man, and several thousands of dollars!  I don't know if it's true what she said about an angel leading us into that store right before closing time, but it would sure explain finding the ring I had already formulated in my mind, now wouldn't it?

One quick note and then I'll show you a picture of the ring.  We DID call Steele back the next day to thank him for his wonderful service.  He AND his store truly are a class act.  Eric also said that if we ever strike it rich, we will definitely go back to Store A.  I think Steele was a little shocked to hear from us, but we just thought a classy guy deserved to be treated the way he treated us.  The Golden Rule, y'know?

And now, the ring...

And how it looks on my hand...

Perfect Proposal

After recently "publishing" my engagement on Facebook for the entire world to see, I received tons of inquiries asking, "How did he do it? How did he ask?"  To which I replied, "With his mouth."

Yeah, I crack myself up.

I don't know what it is, but people love hearing a good love story, and I suppose "with his mouth" does nothing to quench the insatiable thirst of hopeless romantics.  (I should know; I am one.)  Of course, as a writer, I love a good love story too, and this is one story I couldn't leave alone, especially because it's MY love story.  :)


Two Weeks Ago...

We had plans to go into the canyon Friday night, up to Sundance Resort for dinner. Our Saturday plans included meeting up with 3 other couples for a date night.  We had a fun, busy weekend ahead.

The Man was thinking it just might be the weekend to propose.  The Man also knew I'd been waiting, like For.Ever. for this little 4-word question to be popped (indicative with several not-so-subtle hints in the preceding weeks).  Of course, he wanted the "bling" to sweeten the deal (like I'd say no), cuz we all know that if some chick says she's engaged and she doesn't have a ring to show for it, all of the other chicks are all, "MmmHmm.  She ain't gettin' may-reed. He ain't give her no ring yet.  Srsly."   And, well, he didn't want that for me.

However, Mother Nature had other plans. Thanks to an awful snow storm that Thursday, the opportunity to purchase and surprise me with a ring before that weekend were fast fleeting.

Friday night the snow let up just enough for us to make it into the canyon.  The atmosphere was beautiful in spite of the chill and I admit, I couldn't help thinking this was the perfect night for him to pop the question.  And though we had many sweet exchanges that evening, a proposal wasn't one of them.

After getting back so late Friday night, I don't think either one of us woke before noon on Saturday.  We hung out a little bit in the afternoon working on some of my family's genealogy 'cuz we're romantice like that , and before we knew, it was time to get ready and head out for our date night with the group.

Following dinner, the couples all came back to The Man's house for games.  We had fun laughing, playing and eating dessert, though I'm not gonna lie - I was Tired, with a capital T.  I don't know about you, but there is something about freezing, snowy weather that seems to suck the life right outta me.

Around midnight, the last of the couples left.  I was exhausted. My back hurt. My eyelids began to droop and I knew it was only a matter of time before my words would become incoherent and spittle would begin forming at the corners of my mouth.

The Man agreed to rub my back which eventually led to us sitting on the floor in his living room, basking in the long-awaited still of night. Me, enveloped in his warm embrace, my head on his shoulder, enjoying the peaceful, restful moment; that moment just before the diabolical drool-patch began its slow-drip and my RLS triggered the Jimmy-Legs.  I was completely oblivious to his state of mind.  Perhaps he had a surge of courage and decided to ask before his fears stepped in again. Perhaps he decided, ring or no ring, he didn't want to wait anymore.  Perhaps he was overcome with emotion and couldn't stop the words from rolling off his tongue. Perhaps he just felt the moment was right.

His lips gently brushed the apple of my cheek as he whispered, "I love you."  Then, just before my eyes rolled into the back of my head, his lips grazed my ear ever-so softly, quietly forming the words, "Will you marry me?"

Spell? Broken. Exhaustion? Over. Sitting-Up Straight and Snapping To!

"Yes!" I exclaimed, physically restraining myself to avoid blurting out, "When?"

Much merriment in the forms of foolish grins and giddy school-girl laughter ensued.  My death-choke of a hug around his body didn't seem enough to convey my emotions that very moment.  I felt almost foolish for trying to quantify something which has no bounds. How can one possibly express the inexpressible?

True, he did not have a ring. True, he did not bend down on one knee. True, it wasn't in a fancy setting with a romantic ambiance. Nevertheless, it came from the man I love, delivered with most genuine of heart in the most tender of ways, allowing me to glimpse the depths of his love for me.

It was MY proposal,

and

it

was

PERFECT.

A Moment

You feel tired, haggard even, and you know your eyes are telling the same story.  It's the end of the day and your make-up (concealing all of the stress and worry of "life") has slipped away after countless rubs to your face.  Your hair desperately needs a brush through it, your teeth feel like they are crawling with sweaters and you utter hardly a word because you're so exhausted that you worry your thoughts will come out all convoluted and you'll make a complete idiot of yourself (something you're quite versed in).

Maybe it's the fact that the wind has died down to a gentle breeze, or perhaps the moonlight disguises the dark circles framing your eyes.  Whatever it is, he stands there, nearly nose to nose, looking at you, breaking down barriers, practically melting right through you.

"What?" you ask in a nervous giggle.

"Just looking at your face," he says honestly.

Although your first instinct is to cringe, you resist because there is something in the way he tells you.  Suddenly you feel alive and beautiful and you forget all about the slightly smudged mascara.

It's like in that moment, the world grew smaller and you're all he sees.  In that moment he's soaking up the whole of you, basking in it like it's a good thing.  In that one moment, he shares so much without saying a single word.

It's in that moment you realize... you want more moments.

Little-B

Yes, I DID happen to drop a little breadcrumb in the previous post about me dating someone.  Yes, this is someone I like...like, "LIKE"-like.  (Not just your ordinary "like".)

I'm sure you all have tons of questions (especially, if you're family).  Well, I haven't quite decided how much I am willing to say just yet, but I will tell you this...  he has a little boy, a kindergartner.  This little boy is hilari-oso.  For reals.  I'm just going to give you three little morsels to chew on for now, and save the rest for later.

Things Little-B said:

1) His dad was reading scriptures to him the other morning.  Little-B interrupts and asks, "Dad, why do you keep saying Yay! ???"  (Yea, verily verily...)  Haha.  "Yay!" vs. "Yea".  So cute, right?  I laughed hard over that.

2) We went to go watch Star Wars in 3-D.  During the scene where Anakin is at the junk shop working, Little-B leans over and in an extremely loud whisper asks, "Dad -- how come the kids in Star Wars don't go to school?"  It was so unexpected all three of us (LittleDuckling was there too) busted up laughing for a few good minutes.

3) It was this guy's birthday a few weeks ago.  I offered to go help him clean his house and take down the Christmas tree before the party.  We spent the afternoon getting everything ready.  Instead of driving all the way home and back, I had planned to just stay and shower and get ready there.  Little-B and his dad were laying on his dad's bed watching TV while I was in the bathroom doing my hair.  Then, really loudly I hear Little-B ask, "Dad, who was that little girl at Aunt so-and-so's house?"  His dad told him.  Then Little-B asked, "What's her mom's name again?"  He tells him the woman's name.  Then Little-B says, "Yeah, her.  How come you two wanted to go for a drive?"  I busted up laughing.  Little kids sure do have bad timing sometimes.  The uncomfortable pause was so thick I could almost hear it.  Finally, he clears his throat and explains, "Uhh, your Aunt wanted us to get to know each other."  Then Little-B declares, "Well, I don't like her."  I laughed again, and then his dad says, "Yeah, neither do I."

Good answer!  haha!

R.I.P. Big-D

If you've been with me since the beginning (or at least since my early blogging days), you'll remember all of the swooning I did over Big-D and the plethora of adventures (and mis-adventures) we had.  In many ways, those were good times, until the awful heartache anyway.  But I moved on -- or at least tried.

It took me over a year before I was really into the idea of having a relationship with someone else.  I dated a little here and there but no one really excited me.  But then, this one time at band camp guy was sorta cute and tons of fun.  I would've totally been up for the idea of pursuing something with him.  The problem was he started to drag his feet a little.  And it's not like I'm in a race to the altar or anything.  But, like I've said before,  there needs to be balance -- like a tennis match.  He serves (calls), and you hit back (return the call).  If you've texted or called him first one day, then let him be the first to call or text you the next.  In a previous post I briefly mentioned an article I read about why women should let men be the "hunters" and not the "hunted" -- and about how when the girl lets him "be the man" he becomes more emotionally invested.  There is also this great article {{HERE}} about how women need to back off  and not hover over the men they're interested in because "the more you do for him, the less he does for you, and the less he feels for you." Looking back I can see where I went wrong with Big-D and I did not want to do that with this other dude.  So, I didn't.  And guess what?  He didn't do anything either -- for like 3 weeks, not so much as a word.

When I finally caught up with him, he gave me the little song and dance about how he's just been super busy, but that I shouldn't worry -- It's nothing I did, blah blah blah.  We had that discussion before.  And I "get" being busy.  *I* am busy.  But really?  If he liked me THAT much, he'd take the 60 seconds out of his day to send a text, right?  I replied by saying something to the following effect:  "So you've said before, about being busy.  But here is what I think.  I think that I liked you more than you liked me -- and that's okay.  I think you're a great guy and a lot of fun, and I genuinely enjoy our friendship.  So, don't stop coming around and if you want I'll even introduce you to some other girls."  There was a long pause before he replied.  Yeah - I think I caught him off guard. I wasn't angry or anything; I just wanted him to realize it's better to call a spade a spade rather than to play games and lead a girl on by continuously saying stupid stuff like,, "I really do like you -- I'm just busy."  Fact: If you like her, you'll make time.  I stand by my proclamation girls, if he isn't making an effort to call you or to be with you, then he's just not THAT into you.  Suffice it to say, I left that guy behind and moved on once again.

In the article that says men like to be the hunter {{HERE}} it also talks about why many men have trouble committing and therefore stay single well into their 30's & 40's.  (He's great, but still single -- why?)  It mostly revealed that these men suffer from a type of relationship anxiety called "anticipatory anxiety."  I love stuff like this, so needless to say, I was fascinated by the article and a few of my friends and I have discussed it in great detail lately.  One of my friends is struggling with a guy like this and mentioned how hard it is to sometimes get over someone.  I thought about that and wondered, if Big-D called me out of the blue and asked me out (it's been over 18 months since I've seen him), what would I do? What would I say?  I started to wonder if I was truly over him.  Then I had this dream one night last week...

A friend calls me up and tells me Big-D is dead.  "Dead?" I ask. Unbelievable.  He's a healthy, fit guy -- he's a trail runner, for crying out loud.  He couldn't have possibly had a heart attack or something.  "How did he die?" I ask.  She replies, "He drowned."  "Drowned? Where?  How?"  "In a hotel swimming pool," she says, "surrounded by his family."  My response?  A long silent pause.  I don't get choked up, I don't cry.  Finally I say, "Hmm.  So sad.  I mean, here is is nearly 40 years old and died lonely.  Too bad he suffered from anticipatory anxiety or he could have spent the last several years with someone...  Rest in Peace, Big-D."  

Haha.  Who says "anticipatory anxiety" in a dream???  I do, apparently.  The more I played and replayed that dream in my mind that day the more I thought about how sad it really is that some men feel pressure from their families to be married - so much so, that it triggers the very anxiety that prevents them from taking that next step.  He drowned right in front of his family.  Whoa. If that's not symbolic...

What I also thought was symbolic for me was the fact that I did not cry in my dream.  Anyone who knows me knows that I am a crier.  I cry over happy things, I cry over sad things.  I cry when I hear our National Anthem or the recitation of our Pledge of Allegiance or the Declaration of Independence.  I cry when the crowning of Miss America is broadcast live for all the world to see.  Seriously -- I cry over everything.  But over this?  Not.A.Tear.  I felt sad, but in a sorry-for-him way, not in an I'll-miss-you-like-crazy kind of way.  It was a good dream, because it let me know that I am over him and that I do not want to go back to a relationship wherein I am the one doing all of the work, keeping it going.  I don't want to just love someone -- I want to love him for the way he loves me.

It gives me assurance that I have forever closed that chapter in my life and am ready to move on.  This is also an affirmation to me that when I am with the guy I'm dating now (wait -- what did she just say???), I know that I am with him.  He's not just filling the empty space left behind.

So truly... Rest In Peace, Big-D, Rest In Peace.

Favorite First Dates (And a Dating Tip for Women)

Sometimes the dating scene could use a little freshening up, or at least that's the way it feels.

I know some say it's sexist for the girl to expect the guy to plan the date but studies show (itsyourtechnique.com) that men like to hunt, not be hunted.  "Many women prevent men from making sacrifices by doing too much of the work.  When you give him your number before he asks for it, call him, drop plans to be with him, hang out instead of expecting him to take you on dates,... you deny him the privilege of sacrificing for you.  The more deeply a man sacrifices the more deeply he loves.  Thus, the more you do for him, the less he does for you and the less he feels for you."  

I have to say that as harsh as this sounds I tend to agree with it.  I can think of many times wherein I called him first and more often than he called me, or if he asked me what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go for a date, I ended up planning the whole thing.  In those cases -- when *I* was doing all/most of the work, he ended up losing interest too quickly and I ended up alone and perhaps even a bit sad.  I firmly believe that if a guy wants to be with you, he will be.  And if he likes you he will move mountains to be with you.  And if he's not making sacrifices to be with you or show you he cares, he may care about and like you a little; just not enough to let it turn into something more.  In other words, "He's just not THAT into you."  This is hard for women (including me) and if there is anything I've learned from dating at this age is that often times it starts with the first date.

My favorite first dates have been ones that the guy has planned.  Even if he asked me ahead of time if I have a preference, I've usually responded by telling him I'd rather do something that allows us a chance to talk and get to know one another and then jokingly add, "I'll let you be the man; you decide."  So, even though it's in a somewhat joking tone, I was and still am serious.  I find that when the ball is back in their court, they've usually come up with something fun.

Here are some of my favorite first dates:

• Him making dinner for me or cooking together.
• 4-wheeling in the mountains and reaching the top just as the sun was setting.
• Walking through a local plaza that is lit up for Christmas and going for hot cocoa afterwards.
• Hitting a bucket of balls.  (Which I was horrible at because it was my first time.  But TONS of laughter!)
• Going on a motorcycle ride in the "back country".
• Horse-back riding on a trail.
• Flying kites in the park.
• Sledding.  (This was fun, because we were the only non-kid unit on the hill.)
• Going to the zoo. (You feel like a kid again, but sooo fun!)
• Playing the piano together (if he plays).
• Visit an art gallery/art museum.
• Attend local sporting event.
• Play at the Local Fun center (ski ball, arcades, go karts, etc.)

What are/were some of YOUR favorite first dates?

Age

"Age doesn't matter" is a phrase one often hears in the world of dating.  And I suppose that's true for the most part, assuming you're not trying to pull a Mary Kay Letourneau.  Also, the words "barely legal" shouldn't excite you; seriously.

As far as dating goes, I do have some age preferences, although the only hard-fast rule regarding age is that the dude must be closer to my age than that of my [currently] 17-year old son or my [currently] 60 year-old father.  The only exception to that rule being Sting.  For a man my father's age he is HAWT!  Mmmmm...  now that's some eye-candy I wouldn't mind taking home with me! haha.

En-Nee-hoo...

I don't know why, but age seems to be a big deal to me.  When I turned 30, it wasn't a big deal - but 32 was a hard year for me.  Then 34 was a difficult one, and in my head, I haven't really aged past that.  That's the year I really did stop counting.  Now, when someone asks me my age, I have to stop and do the math.

My age this past berfday has also bugged me.  I try not to dwell on my age or let it define me, per se, it's just the closer I get to 40, the worse I feel about it.  I want to be on the other side of 30, thank you very much.

In trying to determine why I feel this way, the only thing I can come up with is that when I got divorced, it was  starting a new chapter in my life - a fresh start.  I felt young and vibrant and full of energy.  I had options and truth be told -- I kinda like having options, having somewhat of a do-over.

I think about having another baby All.The.Time.  Let's face it though, I'm no Spring Chicken.  The closer I get to 40, the closer I get to the reality that it probably won't happen.  Which is fine...  it's not like I HAVE to have another baby.  It's just something I think about - a LOT.  I would love to be married again, and there is something about wanting to give a child to the person you love... I digress.  The other part about dating at my age is the closer I get to 40, the dating pool of men starts to change.  I had a great conversation with a man in his early 40's back in October; and he was sekseh too.  Then he mentioned something about his new baby granddaughter.

~CHOKES~  What did he just say???  GRANDDAUGHTER?  Ohhhh... no. No.En.No.  I am soooo not ready to be a Nana.  Uh-uh!  I would say I ran the other way, but I only had to walk, since he WAS a grandpa and all! haha!

I hate that I feel like my age is passing me by.  Even though I am "active" with my kids, with school, with work, and in my social life.  Trust me, there isn't a lack of trying on my part.

I'm not sure blogging about this helps at all...  but that's the runaway train in my brain this morning.  The runaway train of age; I see it coming and yet, there's nooooo stopping it.  Perhaps that is what I really hate about it... the fact I can't control it.

Guys I Seem to Attract

1) Guys who only care about big boobs

2) Latinos

3) Old

4) Blacks

5) Disabled

6) Asians

7) Weird, Creepy, etc

8) Unemployed

9) Guys who only care about big boobs

There, I said it. And it's true.

It's not that I am against Latinos, Asians or Blacks. I mean, I had an interracial marriage for over 14 years (not that THAT worked out, hehe). Just saying that honestly, I tend to be more attracted to Caucasians. I don't think that's wrong, do you? I mean, you are attracted to whom you're attracted to, right?

Old men? Bleh. That'd be like dating my father's friends -- or worse, my father's father's friends! (I just threw up in my mouth!) Aside from Sting, I am not attracted to older men. (shudders)

Trust me - the issue isn't about looking past the surface when it comes to severe disabilities. I know some very beautiful souls with disabilities. It's just that I have a lot on my plate right now, and dealing with a severe disability can take a lot out of a person. Maybe I am being selfish, but it is just something I don't feel I can handle at this time, especially while I am working and going to school and raising 3 kids. I also think it takes someone with a very special soul to be a caretaker for someone with severe disabilities. It is a gift that I do not feel I have been given at this time.

I sort of lump weird and creepy into the same category, although one doesn't have to be both to fit here. Weird and creepy is hard to describe, and yet you always know it when he's standing right in front of you asking you out. Yikes.

And the whole Big Boobs thing? I get it. Guys are "visual" and they were made that way. I don't take issue with that. I take issue with the fact that he may not realize there is more to me than the chestacle dept. -- more going on upstairs than in the Land of Boobage. I mean, c'mon... Though I am not brilliant, I do think I am smart. I consider myself to be fairly quick-witted and clever. I love a good laugh and love physical affection. The boobs should just be a perk. Y'know, like when you're shopping for a car and the salesman tells you it comes with heated seats. Not many people would pay for the heated seats, but if it comes with it, they'd be like, "Hey! Su-weet!"

All I am saying is -- I want a respectful, employed white guy, close to my age... is that so hard to ask? If not, then where are they hiding!?!?! lol.

I am about ready to hire a stand-in boyfriend to help ward the dudes in the above categories off.

Reasons I Probably Would Not Go Out With You

• You're too young.
• You're too old.
• You're too short.
• You're too scrawny.
• You're too bulky.
• You have a comb-over, which means you are either A)Insecure B) In Denial C) You Rationalize D) You believe the myth that bald=old looking. (Hello! Have you SEEN Mr. Clean?) E) All of the above.
• You have bad breath.
• You use that "natural stone" deodorant and you think you don't need real deodorant (which is a mistake, by the way).
• You think regular showers are frivolous.
• You bathe in your cologne.
• You're in denial about the "spare tire" forming around your midriff and therefore where shirts 2 sizes too small and those poor buttons are hanging on for dear life!
• You talk too much.
• You don't talk enough.
• You don't find me funny -- or worse -- you don't "get" my jokes.
• You think we should stay in Church Clothes all day on Sunday.
• You won't go to church on Sunday.
• You Drink.
• You Smoke
• You lie.
• You're into yourself more than me.
• You drive a Volkswagon Bug.
• You are a high-talker.
• You are a mumbler.
• You have bad grammar.
• Any of your visible teeth are gold.
• You have a foot fetish.
• You correct me too often.
• I have to correct you too often
• You are picky eater.
• You never go anywhere without your satchel on your shoulder.
• You are afraid of spiders, snakes, mice, or anything of the kind.
• You chew with your mouth open.
• You are a mouth breather.
• You are of the opinion that only kids wear braces.
• You don't have a job.
• You think there is a possibility that you *might* have kids out there somewhere.

.... I am sure there are more - but that's a good start!

Daughters, Whores and the Electric Friendship Generator

Kids make me laugh.

My friend has a teenage daughter and also has a little kindergarten son. The son came home yesterday from school and said, "Mom, your daughter is a whore!"

My friend was shocked. She told him, "We don't say things like that! That's a bad word!"

"Which one?" the son asked, "Daughter or Whore?"

Bwahahahahahahaha! She couldn't help but laugh. And of course I couldn't help but laugh when I heard about it after the fact. Totally made my morning! Kids say the funniest stuff sometimes and who knows where he heard that!

People make me laugh too. People on Facebook make me laugh even more. The whole concept of Facebook and Social Networking makes me laugh sometimes. I saw a comic strip recently that showed a haggard guy at the computer; slightly heavy set, still in a bathrobe. There were hearts floating above the screen. He received a message about meeting for drinks and his reply was, "I'm not really into offline dating." Hahaha.... totally cracked me up.

This video also makes me chuckle. Hope you get a kick out of watching this as much as I did.

Follow-Up

Don't know if you remember this ----> {{"Well, That Was Akward!}}" .

The post about running into someone I went on a date with a few years ago?

Yeah -- well -- ran into him again. And -- he addressed me by name. Guess he remembered. doh!

Well, THAT Was Awkward!

Have you ever went on a date with someone and the whole thing ended up being so awkward, or worse - horrible, and you vowed to never go out with that person again? Yep... I've had my share of those.

But this is even worse...

Let's say you run in to that person again, let's say at someplace you least expect like, ohhhhh - I dunno, in a group setting of sorts. And let's also say that someone is in front of the group giving instruction and perhaps you haven't heard a word that was said because you were so caught off guard by this said person from your past you sit there instead thinking, wondering, asking yourself, "What is he doing here?" And then, "I wonder if he'll recognize me..."

And then let's say perhaps you turn around for a brief moment and he catches your line of sight and you can tell by the look on his face that he recognizes you and you really just want it all to go away, because you are really not interested. So instead, let's say that perhaps you pull your best poker face and pretend you've never seen him before as to hopefully deter him from starting up a conversation.

Yeah.... let's say THAT happens... Talk about AWKWARD!

Cougars, Pumas, and Mules! Oh My!

So a few months ago, I had a conversation with a dude who was what you might call "old-school". He was bashing on men who wear sandals with jeans and saying that he, himself was a "real" man because he wore wranglers and cowboy boots. Ahem. Well, that settled it. I knew right then we would never be a good match. Besides, I don't have the 1980's, multi-tiered, full & fluffy bangs to go with his wranglers and cowboy boots. Not to say that a dude can't look good in that sort of get-up. But if this good ol' boy thinks that "real" men only dress like that, why... he is sorely mistaken.

Seriously... there is something Über-HOT about a man wearing a great pair of jeans (slightly loose) and a pair of slides. Mmm-Hmm.

We've talked jeans before... and it definitely has to be the right pair of jeans paired with just the right sandal. I mean, not just anything will do! Certainly not this...!

NOT.ENOUGH.BLEACH. to cure my eyes of that one!

No, I am talking jeans more like these...

And slides or mules like these...

Put those two together and get something more like this...

I mean, even Mark Zuckerman, FB Creator sports a pair of Adidas slides (also known as his "screw-you flip flops") and in some quirky and lovable way, he pulls them off, although not entirely appropriate for the occasion. (see below)

Anyway, the only reason I bring this up is because not more than two days later I started one of my classes for the semester and this kid comes into class in THOSE kind of jeans and THOSE kind of leather slides and I was all....... nice!

Soon the weather got a little colder. But guess what!?!?! The dude in school came through for me. He'd still show up to class in THOSE jeans and THOSE slides! Maybe it was the universe's karmic way of thanking me for being so super-cool and awesome. I mean, who's to say, right?

The other night, I was sort of feeling all........"antsy". It's been a while, y'know what I'm saying? And I was just sorta thinking it might be high time for a li'l sumin'-sumin'. Not like I'd unwrap the entire chocolate bar and have all the "chocolate" I wanted. More like a tasty morsel, fully wrapped, if you catch my drift.

Side Note: If you're my 10-year-old daughter and you do not "catch my drift", that is perfectly intended and I can avoid a heart attack for today. You can ask me about it later... like in ten years! hahaha!

So, the other night in class we had an exam. The instructor started off by reviewing a few things. Sure... I looked like I was listening. But really, my mind kept wandering over to Morsel Man's jeans and screw-you slippers. Seriously. It really made me think that being a cougar wouldn't be so bad. (Which later I found out from Mattie that at my age, I'd only be a Puma. Thanks,Mattie!)

Anyway, I was thinking how my b-day is coming up and all, and while I am too old for a sleepover and game of spin the bottle, I wouldn't be too old for a 60 second elevator ride after class with tasty-morsel-man, right? Just sayin'...

The more I thought about it, the more I was thinking I just might have enough courage to propose such an event. Could you even imagine!?!?! Then I thought, "nah... he'd probably freak at the idea of lending his lips to some Cougar Puma from class." And then I remembered that I have a 16 year old son, and that Morsel Man was probably only five or six years older than that and... eww.

**sigh**

Nevertheless, it would make for a great story... and one freakin' awesome birthday gift! Hahaha!

"It's in the Boofa!"

Recap of last night.

Arrived home from school, after acing my exam, which I will post more about tomorrow. Sent texts to summon children home. Younger two are dropped off by their faddah. Oldest one does not reply.

Sent second summoning to oldest. Does not reply. Second summoning soon followed by threat, which induces a response of, "Sorry. Had to retrieve my cell phone from [the girl's] sofa. Be right home."

Me. Thinking of 1 Million and 1 ways his phone could have gotten "lost" in her sofa. None of them good, mind you.

Oy.

Who's On First?

Sorry the sound didn't come through on the video yesterday. If I wasn't so swamped with classes and work, I would have had time to redo. Anyway... you get the idea. So she asked him to the Sadie Hawkin's dance last weekend. He said yes.

They were supposed to wear Halloween costumes. He and his friends and their dates decided to go as the opposite sex. But not just any opposite sex mind you. For some reason my son turned into some trampy girl (but actually came off looking as some trashy tranny, lol!) and his friend decided to go as Pocahontas or Hiawatha or something. The girls decided to just be dudes.

I don't know whether to be amused or scared... It's just that they looked like they were enjoying it a little tooooooooo much. Oh - and these are the pics I snagged from The Girl's mom (thanks Amy!).

He Answered...

In response to yesterday's post...

She Asked...

Even though I have lived out here in the West for 13 1/2 years now, I am still learning about the culture here. I am not sure if this is a "Utah" thing or a "Western" thing or what. But apparently, when high schoolers ask each other to dances out here, there is a formality to it.

I should start off by first saying that when I was in high school a dance was a dance was a dance. Dances could be clarified as "just a dance", or "semi-formal" (like the Winter dance) or "formal" (like Prom). But out HERE, they refer to casual dances as "stomps" while "dances" usually hold some sort of formality to it, like homecoming, Sadie Hawkins, Prom, etc.

Let me explain what I mean by "Formality". Apparently, it's a BIG deal on HOW you ask the person you want to take to the dance. And then it's a BIG deal on how the proposee replies to the proposer. I know... it makes my head spin too. Seems like an awful lot of pressure in high school. And I worry about the guys that go through all of the hype of asking the girl out and then gets rejected. Rejection is hard enough without having to come up with the formality of popping the question. Nonetheless, it's just the way it is here, and I suppose rejection is all a part of growing up, isn't it? And I suppose most teens don't ask someone unless they are pretty certain they'll get a "yes" response.

When my son asked his date to homecoming a few months back, he was in his car and saw her walking. He basically stuck his head out of the window and said, "Hey. So, you wanna go to homecoming with me?" And her reply was a simple and sweet, "sure." Simple. Sweet. But then again, he was raised by a Hoosier who wasn't up to snuff on the whole gotta-do-a-big-proposal-for-the-dance ceremony. In a way, it sort of seems archaic to me too. But I can also see how fun and creative it can be, especially once you get in proposal mode.

Okay, so now on to the title of the post. The Sadie Hawkins dance. This is a dance our local high school does typically around Halloween. The students go dressed in costume. (When I was a teen, "Sadie Hawkins" WAS the costume!) Anyway, this dance is girl-ask-guy (some schools call this MORP - backwards PROM).

This is how The Girl asked FunnyMan...

The Girl and her sister and best friend filled my front room with balloons containing slips of paper. He had to pop all of them in order to find the one with the question, "Will you go to Sadie's with me?" The other notes were inside jokes and "keep going" type of stuff.

When he got home from work later that night, he was like a little kid in a ball-pit...

So his answer? Well, you'll have to come back tomorrow for that! :)

Dream Date

The Music Man & I are great friends. He has a beautiful wife and adorable kids, not to mention new baby. He is a fabulous example of a great husband and father.

One of the things that makes us great friends is our mutual love of music. We can talk music ALL.THE.TIME. And... we do. New artists, old artists, lyrics, genres, the whole thing.

I am sure he gets tired of hearing my whiny-cry-baby vents. But, I partly blame him since he is the one who asks, "So, how's your love life going?" hahaha! Yep. Blaming him. He asked, so I guess he should be prepared to receive my mindless blubbering.

As my High School Choir Director used to say, Music is like Life; full of Peaks and Valleys. Yep. Peaks & Valleys. Such is life. So, a recent convo with the Music Man took place during one of my "valleys". I was whiny-cry-babying about how it sucks not to have someone to come home to. I said something like, "I would just love to come home, curl up on the couch, and unwind with that someone special, listening to tunes and feel peace in the rhythm of his breathing.

The Music Man, being in touch with his sensitive side said something like, "I wish that for you. I don't know what's wrong with men. I think you would be easy to love. In fact, if I were one of those men, that would be my dream date with you."

Dream date, huh? As sweet as it was, I wondered later if men are really like that? Do they enjoy the cuddle time too? Would that really be some guy's dream date with me?

The more I thought about it, the more I decided that - Yes! I want to be with a man who would want to have that kind of moment with me too. I want a man who would think that spending that kind of time with me IS a dream date.

Thanks, Music Man. You've just help me raise the bar another notch. Music, Cuddling, and breathing have just been added to my wish list. :)

Project: Fifty First Dates

WARNING: This post is the result of an extremely random thought process.
____________________________________________________

It's so lame, it's brilliant. What am I talking about? Fifty First Dates, that's what. If you remember the movie by the same name, you'll remember that the main character, Lucy meets Henry. Due to her short-term memory loss however, each day they meet is like a brand new day for her. Hence, it's like having a first date each time -- or 50 First Dates, to be precise.

Anyway - while thinking of this movie, a quote some comedian said came to mind (too lazy to google it) -- "I've been on so many blind dates I should have my own seeing-eye dog". This whole train of thought then took me down memory lane, to a couple of awesome first dates I've had in my short life span. About two years ago I received a call from HatDude. He wanted to know if I had good ideas for an awesome first date. I said I would think on it and call him back, since I was in the middle of my own first date with In-Flight Dude. HatDude said he looked forward to my return call, and added that he knew whatever I came up with would be good, as the best first date he ever had was with me. Uh, Duh! hahaha... just kidding. Wow... talk about pressure, right? hahaha!

Then again-- I actually sorta get that a lot. And the truth is, I don't think I'm necessarily a great first date. It's just that I like to do out-of-the-ordinary things, and I enjoy the element of surprise and spontaneity. I think perhaps it might be refreshing for some men, especially "yellows" like me, to date someone who ISN'T so predictable.

Anyway, as I was thinking about this element of "expecting the unexpected" on a first date, I had this idea... What if there was a dude who conducted a first date experiment? Even a Fifty-First Dates experiment? Except, instead of having 50 first dates with the same woman (like in the movie), he would have the SAME date with 50 different women? Don't you think that would be sort of a cool experiment? Even cooler if it were a film, eh?

So, in my mind, (where ALL of the "good shows" are created, haha) I sort of envision this. A guy and his buddies create a format for a first date -- The location, event, food, etc. Then, the main character will shuffle as many women through the same first date experience over the period of several weeks, and note the different responses from the different women to similar scenarios. For example, what if one of his buddies calls him on his cell phone half-way through dinner and he answers it? Does the woman get ticked off? Does she smile and be polite? Does she take the opportunity to make her own quick phone call? All the while, a second buddy is filming secret footage of the date for later review. During the reviews, these dates are then "scored" or "critiqued" by the guy and his said friends, based on their reactions to the various situations. Many of the situations would be staged of course. Like if she noticed parsley in his teeth or his zipper down, does she say something? Is she discreet about it? Perhaps he gets pulled over by a cop {who is secretly another friend} and things get a little intense before the officer "realizes" it's a case of mistaken identity and lets the guy go. I mean, how would she react to that?

All of her reactions and responses earn various points based on the type of girl the he is looking for. Then, as he "weeds" out the candidates, there are repeat dates in new circumstances. It's sort of like several women unknowingly auditioning for the same part. Some girls will make the first cut and then the second, etc.

I mean, that is what dating really is anyway, isn't it? A series of auditions to see if he/she is the type of person you are looking for? How does he treat his mother? His friends? His co-workers? What does he do when a baby spits up on him? When some jerk cuts him off in traffic? When you cry? Or when you clumsily trip and fall in public? and so on and so forth...

Anyway -- Just thinking out loud and how I think that would/could make for a very entertaining flick. It would definitely be funny. Hmm... I'll have to put some more thought into it. In the meantime, if you hear of a movie coming out that sounds like this --

--you'll know they stole the idea from me, cuz you saw it here first :) HAHAHA!