When Good Things Come To An End

"Doctor says she's, what do you call it, lost the strive for life? Lost the luster for life?" His voice is a surprisingly positive tone as he describes the condition of the love of his life. "I mean, she talks to me just fine and all, but just kind of lies there in the bed when the doctors and staff come in."

I work in health insurance in a department that caters to an older clientele. This isn't my first end-of-the-line love story.  The unhappy ending to a chance-encounter-2-year-engagement-blissful-wedding-2.5-kids-and-a-dog-numerous-fights-numerous-makeups love stories we're sold on TV and in books-then-movies. I'm just impressed that he can talk about her condition with such composer.

"But no, I won't be moving her. She wouldn't be able to take it, you know? [Nervous chuckle] I mean, she fell at the last place. They didn't have the 'round-the-clock care she's getting now, you see. She's got, what is it, heart problem- congenial? Congenital? She had a stroke last month so we had her in the hospital for a bit. She got out, then had her fall. So, no, can't move her [uncomfortable chuckle]."

"All right, sir, well if you're all set then-" I tried to regain direction of the conversation but to no avail as he adds,

"You know I even tried to get her in the car to go see the Christmas lights- she loved those!- but she wouldn't get out of the bed. Just sat up and watched TV." His tone dropped to a more truthful, somber tone.

"Um, sir? I-" How do you mourn the loss of a living person? "Well, all right, then thank you I am all se- uh huh, good bye." He chokes out in between my nervous stuttering.

He's reaching the ending of his love's story. 

Shots in the Dark

Rando: Hello, remember me?

Me: [Super excited the really cute guy I met a while back and kind of called him a sleazy jerk trying to chase skirts- but tequila makes me honest so it was his fault for buying the first three rounds- begins to text him, then figures it would be a really good idea to check time sent...] *1:51am??*

[Sighs. Deletes text and phone number]


[Resolves to be single forever and order her crazy cat lady starter kit first thing in the morning.]

Read between the lines

My mom is on online dating [Stop. Focus].

She commented on one suitor's profile:

"Wow, issues?"

When asked to elaborate, she read his profile allowed, "Would like someone honest; that would be nice for a change."

Yup, issues.

Friend-tervention

"I just don't want to see you in the same position when I met you a year ago." Opening with a heavy sigh, he delivered- by far- the most accurate, poignant, thought-with-action provoking request I've ever received. 

For those of you who are new to this blog

(greetings and welcomes abound!),

a year ago, when I met this fast-formed and true friend,

I was in very much what would be considered a pit

in the overall ups and downs of life. The equivalent of

publically walking enchained and chaperoned by my captor,

I was living a night terror with no sound escaping

my lips and seemingly no way to wake.

So, Quinto had a point. What's the point of following a storyline only to come to the sad and disappointing realization that this story line will eventually flat-line?   There will be no great coming-of-age discovery, no grand self-proclamation, realization, affirmation, or even a blip on some life radar.

This cryptic mess of an entry is to say that I am tired of being a 2 dimensional character in my own story. Very much time for a turner point, wouldn't you all agree?

Better than the bars...

Guy on the online dating site states he is new to this. His profile snippet is "I am serious and I am looking for someone to marry."


Appreciate the honesty and directness...


                                                                  ...Gotta go!

Not for sale.

The pole dance studio where I take lessons was featured at a local art expo. I invited friends to come watch and cheer me on. The place was packed with young professionals, so my friend who works in local politics fit right in in his suit and tie.  Another chick friend joined me on the stage for a demo with one of the instructors. She noticed him looking at his phone. "Hey!" she squealed, "what are you doing?! Don't look at that, look at this (pointing to me in my scantaly clad attire)!"

"What? This is work," he fires back looking at her then back at his phone. He should have stopped there, but then adds, "I gotta do this to pay for that," he gestures up to me mid upside down spin.

I then dismount the pole and, while wearing full on kitten platform heels and the outfit to match, interject with "Hey, um, just to clarify: I'm not for sale."

A man of his word.

"I'm a man of my word."

I should've ran in the opposite direction at this sound bite, but instead of listening to my allergic reaction to bullshit, I stuck around and for those of you who know me personally, we all know how much of a sh^t show that turned out to be.

Rock. Bottom.

I'm going to go ahead and let you all know that this online dating thing is getting absolutely depressing.  The two persons I've messaged back because they met my minimal requirements (at least 6' or taller, not ugly, employed, and educated college or higher) were both in the teaching profession (super cute) and have both stopped messaging me back (super depressing).

I can only take that to mean that I am meant for the well off a$$ holes I tend to entertain in real life as I am too whatever or not good enough for the more normal, nicer guys. Sadness.




Utter. Rock. Bottom.

Is that physically possible?

My former supervisor caught me aimlessly glancing at children and baby clothes display of a visiting retail vendor located by the office cafeteria.

"Shopping for baby clothes?" He playfully asked.

I can only describe my physical reaction through the thought that followed that inquiry:

"Did my uterus just literally throw up in itself?"

For I had felt a very sharp, sudden pain in my lower abdomen, as if my uterus was rejecting whatever imaged contents at the idea of child rearing.

"Oh no, not for me at least." I politely answered my former super before escaping away from that madness.

I wasn't prepared for this...

I'm out of both wine and flour. Bake and drink night is ruined.



I'm inconsolable.

At this point...

At this point, I should stop politely refilling my glass and just get a squiggly straw to finish off this bottle of wine.

New Year's Resolution List: Part 2

Next year I resolve to:

2) Have a backbone. Finally. Have. A backbone.  Resist the temptation to miss out on mediocre.  So instead of people telling me, "You know you deserve/can do better, right?" They can say, "Amazing! Finally! A perfect match! I am not embarrassed for you as much anymore."

Cheers.