Dear God,
You have a funny sense of humor.
I went to church today with Dulce de TubaDad. It's the first time I've been to church since the one time in January of this year and who knows when before that. Well, I guess you know.
And I liked it.
I liked the message. I liked the way it was delivered. I liked who I was sitting next to at church. I especially liked the person I was sitting next to at church.
So, this is how you get me back to church? You deliver me a really great man?
It's a great deal! Thank you. I am grateful.
Sincerely,
A very happy and content, Hope
PS maybe a little less arm raising during the songs? Or maybe not. I can just keep mine down, right?
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Who knew that Ferris Bueller grew up to be such a groper?
It was Chicfila Wednesday at my house when I received a phone call from my Aunt T. She lives about an hour away from me but she was in my area at a hotel with some friends of hers. And guess what. She met someone that she would really like to set me up with.
I laughed and got the details.
Ferris Bueller was newly divorced. Had two small children. Worked as a pilot for the FAA and was in town training and called San Diego home. Bottom line- my aunt felt sorry for him and wanted me to go out with him. Ah, well, she thought he was nice and I'm sure he didn't grope her when they met so how was she to know.
We met at the hotel bar for drinks and apps on Friday evening. He did look like an older Ferris Bueller. Short like him too but cute enough. I wore my short heels for him. The conversation was easy and we decided to move to a real bar with a live band.
I don't think he was drunk but maybe he was.
Let me just say I am an affectionate person. I like to hold hands. I like to hug and kiss. Public displays of affection don't bother me one bit.
But I'm not really interested in being felt up on the first date in a bar in front of everyone! Jeez! I politely with a laugh moved his hand south of the bosom firmly on the waistline because I'm a cool chick that way. Maybe he's nervous. I'm sure he hasn't been on a date in a while.
The night went on. It was fun. It was okay. It wasn't a love match or anything but it was a night out.
And then it was time to end. And Mr. Groper turned into Mr. Begger.
Please see me again. Please, please! Please come up to my room. Please, please. Please touch me. Whoa! Seriously men! Save it for another date other than the FIRST! Unless of course she's touching you and then by all means go with it if you want to.
I suddenly turned into Ed Rooney wanting to get Ferris Bueller expelled.
Expelled from my car!
It was pitiful and sad and I felt sorry for him but not sorry enough to touch him.
Groper? Groper? Groper? Groper? Groper?
I laughed and got the details.
Ferris Bueller was newly divorced. Had two small children. Worked as a pilot for the FAA and was in town training and called San Diego home. Bottom line- my aunt felt sorry for him and wanted me to go out with him. Ah, well, she thought he was nice and I'm sure he didn't grope her when they met so how was she to know.
We met at the hotel bar for drinks and apps on Friday evening. He did look like an older Ferris Bueller. Short like him too but cute enough. I wore my short heels for him. The conversation was easy and we decided to move to a real bar with a live band.
I don't think he was drunk but maybe he was.
Let me just say I am an affectionate person. I like to hold hands. I like to hug and kiss. Public displays of affection don't bother me one bit.
But I'm not really interested in being felt up on the first date in a bar in front of everyone! Jeez! I politely with a laugh moved his hand south of the bosom firmly on the waistline because I'm a cool chick that way. Maybe he's nervous. I'm sure he hasn't been on a date in a while.
The night went on. It was fun. It was okay. It wasn't a love match or anything but it was a night out.
And then it was time to end. And Mr. Groper turned into Mr. Begger.
Please see me again. Please, please! Please come up to my room. Please, please. Please touch me. Whoa! Seriously men! Save it for another date other than the FIRST! Unless of course she's touching you and then by all means go with it if you want to.
I suddenly turned into Ed Rooney wanting to get Ferris Bueller expelled.
Expelled from my car!
It was pitiful and sad and I felt sorry for him but not sorry enough to touch him.
Groper? Groper? Groper? Groper? Groper?
Friday, July 29, 2011
When I first started re-writing this blog on June 2nd, I told you that I had been on 14 first dates. I started dating again in November so that would have been 7 months. 2 a month. I think Evan suggests 2 a week but that must be for a single person because there is no way in hell I could manage two a week. My evidence is this post.
But let me review this list of men:
1. Mr Southerland - I word vomited on him.
2. Crazy Sexy Jim - Booty call man.
3. Mr. No - Don't drink, don't smoke, don't follow through.
4. Gate 32 - Disappearing over texter.
5. Cartoon Head - Just an over texter.
6. Mr. Cheese - Lies about his age.
7. Just Jim - Too much of an age gap.
8. No. 9. - Oh! Your divorce is not final. My bad.
9. No Nickname #10 - A Top Golf date. I almost won until he pulled out the Big Bertha.
10. iPhone - Called every two hours on a Sunday.
11. I'm Not 5'9" - He wore my lipstick and was not 5' 9".
12. Ferris Bueller- there's a story.
13. Colorado Steve - was in Texas when he was supposed to be in Colorado ruining my 2nd date.
14. Cowboy Kerry - a blurb of a story.
15. Dulce de TubaDad - We're on day 45 and I'm loving our time together.
16. TheVoice - Almost derailed my whole love train but I got smart. And, Dulce de TubaDad asked me out again. Thank you, God.
I realized that I had misnumbered a few but this is the correct order except I never had a date with #10- iPhone. So I'm not sure what to do with him.
Hmm... Think, Hope. Think.
Executive decision. It's my blog. It's my life. We're discussing actual dates so, I'm taking him out of the list. The list should read like this:
1. Mr Southerland
2. Crazy Sexy Jim
3. Mr. No
4. Gate 32
5. Cartoon Head
6. Mr. Cheese
7. Just Jim
8. No. 9. (who is actually #8)
9. No Nickname #10 (who is actually #9)
10. I'm Not 5'9" (formally numbered 11 before I kicked out iPhone)
11. Ferris Bueller
12. Colorado Steve
13. Cowboy Kerry
14. Dulce de TubaDad
15. TheVoice
So, what is all this list making do for you? Absolutely frenching nothing.
But for me, it clears my head out and now I see that I have 3 men to tell you about: Ferris Bueller, Colorado Steve, & Cowboy Kerry because I've already told you about TheVoice and I'm currently updating you on the sweetness known as Dulce de TubaDad.
Somebody start the band so we can get this parade moving!
But let me review this list of men:
1. Mr Southerland - I word vomited on him.
2. Crazy Sexy Jim - Booty call man.
3. Mr. No - Don't drink, don't smoke, don't follow through.
4. Gate 32 - Disappearing over texter.
5. Cartoon Head - Just an over texter.
6. Mr. Cheese - Lies about his age.
7. Just Jim - Too much of an age gap.
8. No. 9. - Oh! Your divorce is not final. My bad.
9. No Nickname #10 - A Top Golf date. I almost won until he pulled out the Big Bertha.
10. iPhone - Called every two hours on a Sunday.
11. I'm Not 5'9" - He wore my lipstick and was not 5' 9".
12. Ferris Bueller- there's a story.
13. Colorado Steve - was in Texas when he was supposed to be in Colorado ruining my 2nd date.
14. Cowboy Kerry - a blurb of a story.
15. Dulce de TubaDad - We're on day 45 and I'm loving our time together.
16. TheVoice - Almost derailed my whole love train but I got smart. And, Dulce de TubaDad asked me out again. Thank you, God.
I realized that I had misnumbered a few but this is the correct order except I never had a date with #10- iPhone. So I'm not sure what to do with him.
Hmm... Think, Hope. Think.
Executive decision. It's my blog. It's my life. We're discussing actual dates so, I'm taking him out of the list. The list should read like this:
1. Mr Southerland
2. Crazy Sexy Jim
3. Mr. No
4. Gate 32
5. Cartoon Head
6. Mr. Cheese
7. Just Jim
8. No. 9. (who is actually #8)
9. No Nickname #10 (who is actually #9)
10. I'm Not 5'9" (formally numbered 11 before I kicked out iPhone)
11. Ferris Bueller
12. Colorado Steve
13. Cowboy Kerry
14. Dulce de TubaDad
15. TheVoice
So, what is all this list making do for you? Absolutely frenching nothing.
But for me, it clears my head out and now I see that I have 3 men to tell you about: Ferris Bueller, Colorado Steve, & Cowboy Kerry because I've already told you about TheVoice and I'm currently updating you on the sweetness known as Dulce de TubaDad.
Somebody start the band so we can get this parade moving!
Oh! I'm so happy!
When you talk on the phone for 3 hours 3 nights in a row you talk about a lot. I'm trying to capture it all so I can remember but sadly I've already forgotten some. But I do remember a couple of things, too.
Like being transparent. Being transparent means you are being honest with the other person and you trust the other person with what you are saying and feeling.
And, holding hands. Dulce de TubaDad told me he likes holding my hand. He says I squeeze his hand as if checking to see if it is real. He squeezes back to assure me that it is. And then I squeeze back harder.
I think my second squeeze is a squeeze that says, "Oh! I'm so happy!"
Like being transparent. Being transparent means you are being honest with the other person and you trust the other person with what you are saying and feeling.
And, holding hands. Dulce de TubaDad told me he likes holding my hand. He says I squeeze his hand as if checking to see if it is real. He squeezes back to assure me that it is. And then I squeeze back harder.
I think my second squeeze is a squeeze that says, "Oh! I'm so happy!"
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Have you heard of that new cult called Oompa Tubas? This is a real email.
From: Hope
Sent: Thursday, July 28, 2011 10:51 AM
To: Fabulous Pregnant Fitness Trainer, Jennifer
Dear Fabulous Pregnant Fitness Trainer,
I regret to inform you that I will not be at my regularly scheduled workout today. I have joined a new cult called the Oompa Tubas. We’re a cult of 2 and we stay up talking into the wee hours of the morning. It’s that initiation period where you’re deprived of food and sleep except I’ve only been deprived of sleep. I will be seeking a wee nap to try and compensate for this week’s lost 9 hours of sleep.
Oom Pa! (that’s tuba sounds)
Hopefully see you on Friday.
Sent: Thursday, July 28, 2011 10:51 AM
To: Fabulous Pregnant Fitness Trainer, Jennifer
Dear Fabulous Pregnant Fitness Trainer,
I regret to inform you that I will not be at my regularly scheduled workout today. I have joined a new cult called the Oompa Tubas. We’re a cult of 2 and we stay up talking into the wee hours of the morning. It’s that initiation period where you’re deprived of food and sleep except I’ve only been deprived of sleep. I will be seeking a wee nap to try and compensate for this week’s lost 9 hours of sleep.
Oom Pa! (that’s tuba sounds)
Hopefully see you on Friday.
just a few of a lot more to come
A phone conversation from Day 42 - July 26, 2011.
There is a feeling of happiness and love that is overwhelming me at the moment. On one hand I embrace it and accept it for all it is and all it has potential to be. It's everything that I have been preparing myself for physically, emotionally, intellectually and spiritually for the last ten months. But my old self still has the other hand where I warn myself that it's only day 42 and there is a lot more to learn and experience. So, while talking to Dulce de TubaDad on the phone I asked him, "Is 42 days a lot or just a few?"
He tapped into my love of pizza.
DTD: So say you have 42 pieces of Little Caesar's pizza.
H: Eh, okay.
DTD: Not so impressive right?
H: No. It is pizza but not very good pizza.
DTD: Right. But what if you have one really good Burrata Mozzarella Pie with pepperonis and a really good salad to go with it from Fireside Pies? Which one sounds better?
H: Well, of course, I want the Burrata Mozzerella Pie. That was a very nice date by the way.
DTD: Right, because it's not quantity. It's quality.
And I completely agree. The 42 days that I have experienced dating Dulce de TubaDad have been pure quality. Everyone of them. But this also made him wonder why I asked that question. He sensed my doubt. And he had an answer. A really good answer.
He tells me this next sentence slowly, with thoughtful pauses, carefully choosing the right words,
It doesn't matter if it's a second, a minute, a week, a month or a year, when it feels right in your heart you know it's right so 42 days is a lot but it's also just a few.
And at that moment, I sent up a silent, "Thank you, God and the whole universe for putting this man in my path!"
On August 12th I will be 42 years old. I have lived a full life with many experiences. As a child I endured my parents painful divorce. And later, I was anxious about their reconciliation but then felt a sense of relief that they had each other again. I've had boyfriends. Some that I liked more than they liked me. And a few that liked me more than I liked them. I've been married. I birthed two wonderful boys. And, I went through my own divorce. A divorce that I chose. In the case of my divorce, and hind sight, my love tank was sitting on empty for too long. Too much resentment built up and I wasn't able to hold on to my marriage. Dr. Chapman, author of The 5 Love Languages, writes about our basic need to feel loved and the 5 different ways that we feel love. To briefly list them, the 5 Love Languages are Quality Time, Words of Affirmation, Gifts, Acts of Service and Physical Touch. And when the people in our lives speak our love language to us, our love tanks stay full.
In all my 42 years, through the boys that I desperately obsessed over in high school and the walls that I built up in my flighty young adults days, straight up to convincing my ex-husband to finally marry me already, I can honestly say I do not remember a time when my love tank was so overflowing. I'm one of those 1975 gas pumps that doesn't have the automatic shut off valve when the tanks is full and gas is spewing all over the car and the ground. That is my love tank these days.
And the thing that makes it so special is that TubaDad expresses my feelings as his own.
And as we talked day 42 into the early morning of day 43 we both agreed it's a just a few of a lot more to come.
There is a feeling of happiness and love that is overwhelming me at the moment. On one hand I embrace it and accept it for all it is and all it has potential to be. It's everything that I have been preparing myself for physically, emotionally, intellectually and spiritually for the last ten months. But my old self still has the other hand where I warn myself that it's only day 42 and there is a lot more to learn and experience. So, while talking to Dulce de TubaDad on the phone I asked him, "Is 42 days a lot or just a few?"
He tapped into my love of pizza.
DTD: So say you have 42 pieces of Little Caesar's pizza.
H: Eh, okay.
DTD: Not so impressive right?
H: No. It is pizza but not very good pizza.
DTD: Right. But what if you have one really good Burrata Mozzarella Pie with pepperonis and a really good salad to go with it from Fireside Pies? Which one sounds better?
H: Well, of course, I want the Burrata Mozzerella Pie. That was a very nice date by the way.
DTD: Right, because it's not quantity. It's quality.
And I completely agree. The 42 days that I have experienced dating Dulce de TubaDad have been pure quality. Everyone of them. But this also made him wonder why I asked that question. He sensed my doubt. And he had an answer. A really good answer.
He tells me this next sentence slowly, with thoughtful pauses, carefully choosing the right words,
It doesn't matter if it's a second, a minute, a week, a month or a year, when it feels right in your heart you know it's right so 42 days is a lot but it's also just a few.
And at that moment, I sent up a silent, "Thank you, God and the whole universe for putting this man in my path!"
On August 12th I will be 42 years old. I have lived a full life with many experiences. As a child I endured my parents painful divorce. And later, I was anxious about their reconciliation but then felt a sense of relief that they had each other again. I've had boyfriends. Some that I liked more than they liked me. And a few that liked me more than I liked them. I've been married. I birthed two wonderful boys. And, I went through my own divorce. A divorce that I chose. In the case of my divorce, and hind sight, my love tank was sitting on empty for too long. Too much resentment built up and I wasn't able to hold on to my marriage. Dr. Chapman, author of The 5 Love Languages, writes about our basic need to feel loved and the 5 different ways that we feel love. To briefly list them, the 5 Love Languages are Quality Time, Words of Affirmation, Gifts, Acts of Service and Physical Touch. And when the people in our lives speak our love language to us, our love tanks stay full.
In all my 42 years, through the boys that I desperately obsessed over in high school and the walls that I built up in my flighty young adults days, straight up to convincing my ex-husband to finally marry me already, I can honestly say I do not remember a time when my love tank was so overflowing. I'm one of those 1975 gas pumps that doesn't have the automatic shut off valve when the tanks is full and gas is spewing all over the car and the ground. That is my love tank these days.
And the thing that makes it so special is that TubaDad expresses my feelings as his own.
And as we talked day 42 into the early morning of day 43 we both agreed it's a just a few of a lot more to come.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Dude, I hope you are wearing a parachute because this is an emergency.
Just for fun and to break up the sappiness so you don't get a cavity from the sweetness of my relationship, let's finish up the list of men that I met prior to meeting Dulce de Tuba dad.
Do you remember Gate 32? He just disappeared, remember?
And then, he just reappeared.
He said he got sick. And then he went on vacation. And then he went home for the holidays. And now here he is again. Texting me.
Okay, okay. You can't say I didn't give these guys a chance. I know a lot of you would have been like hit the road, Jack. You had your chance and you blew it! But no, not me. I agreed to meet him for drinks. We had drinks. He texted the next day. He called. He arranged another date. He picked me up. We went on a date. He took me home. We kissed good night. Everything was fine.
And then it started. The over texting. Texting all the time. He texted me at 7am on a work day. I texted back. He texted right back. I texted one more time but I had to get ready for work so I didn't text back.
And then something really crazy happened. He texted me 15 times. He called me 3 times. And, he sent me an email.
All of them asking me if I was okay. All between 7:30am and 11:30am.
Dude- no. I am not okay. You just tried to contact me 19 times in the last 4 hours. That's 4.75 times an hour. More than once every 15 minutes.
I have news for you buddy, you're not my emergency contact number. And guess what! You're not going to be my emergency contact number because now I'm completely freaked out!
So, I put on my own oxygen mask, thought about assisting him with his oxygen mask but didn't think too long about it before my leg did that automatice knee jerk thing and I kicked him straight out the emeregency exit.
Deep breaths. Happy thoughts. Whew! I'm glad that's over.
Do you remember Gate 32? He just disappeared, remember?
And then, he just reappeared.
He said he got sick. And then he went on vacation. And then he went home for the holidays. And now here he is again. Texting me.
Okay, okay. You can't say I didn't give these guys a chance. I know a lot of you would have been like hit the road, Jack. You had your chance and you blew it! But no, not me. I agreed to meet him for drinks. We had drinks. He texted the next day. He called. He arranged another date. He picked me up. We went on a date. He took me home. We kissed good night. Everything was fine.
And then it started. The over texting. Texting all the time. He texted me at 7am on a work day. I texted back. He texted right back. I texted one more time but I had to get ready for work so I didn't text back.
And then something really crazy happened. He texted me 15 times. He called me 3 times. And, he sent me an email.
All of them asking me if I was okay. All between 7:30am and 11:30am.
Dude- no. I am not okay. You just tried to contact me 19 times in the last 4 hours. That's 4.75 times an hour. More than once every 15 minutes.
I have news for you buddy, you're not my emergency contact number. And guess what! You're not going to be my emergency contact number because now I'm completely freaked out!
So, I put on my own oxygen mask, thought about assisting him with his oxygen mask but didn't think too long about it before my leg did that automatice knee jerk thing and I kicked him straight out the emeregency exit.
Deep breaths. Happy thoughts. Whew! I'm glad that's over.
Monday, July 25, 2011
I want to tell you something.
I love when I hear the words, "I want to tell you something" pass over the lips of Dulce de Tuba Dad. Why you ask? Because something sweet has always followed those words.
For example, on June 14th, Day 1, when we were eating cheesecake at The Cheesecake Factory and he followed them with "I just want to tell you that I've had a very nice evening and I'd like to see you again."
And on July 2nd, Day 19, when we were driving home from his friends backyard Fourth of July party on the 2nd and he followed them with "I've had really great three weeks. I like you and I'd like to grow a relationship with you." I also made him list the things he liked about me.
Then there was July 21st, Day 37, when we were talking on the phone (Day 4 of not seeing each other) and he followed them with "Today has been 37 days of us seeing each other and I just wanted to tell you I haven't felt like this in over 20 years." I had to question his counting abilities because it sure feels like longer than 37 days to which we now have a "count up" (instead of a countdown). We decided that it felt longer because we feel comfortable to be ourselves when we're together. The goofy, dorks we actually are. (I was going to type retard instead of dorks but it's only funny if you say it the way Alan from The Hangover says it and where we got it from. Reh-tard not Ree-tard. Comprende? But hey, dorks works just as well.)
Today is July 25th, Day 41, (and it's also a very long Day 8 of only texts and phone calls since we've seen each other) when Evan enters my virtual world. Hello Evan. What's going on in the world of dating advice?
The title of his post from a reader's question reads: Is My Relationship Too Good To Be True? Whoa! Evan! Come on! I've got a nice little bubble going on here. Don't you dare burst it. He goes on to explain how relationship experts say that the passionate phase of relationships last from 18 - 24 months. You get 18 - 24 months of giddy excitement, butterflies, passionate chemistry and that honeymoon feeling before the hard knocks of life take over and you have to turn to choosing to give unconditional love even when the person drives you crazy and you're in the middle of your not so happily ever after. (Okay, I added that last part myself.)
I just want to clarify that this was not my question sent into Evan. Dulce de Tuba Dad and I both point out to each other on a regular basis that we are not perfect. We've shared our imperfections. And so far, we accept them as they are. Part of us. Moments that we hope we have learned from and have become better people for experiencing those moments.
The good news is- I still have 17 - 23 months of giddy excitement, butterflies, passionate chemistry and that honeymoon feeling. And the other good news, as Evan points out, is:
If you have a boyfriend who seems too good to be true, that’s wonderful news. It definitely beats the alternative (men suck, there’s no one out there!)
and
Take your time, enjoy your guy, and you’ll know a lot better in two years if he is, in fact, “too good to be true”.
Which also means that you, my loyal readers, get to endure 17 - 23 months of sappy, sweet stories like this one:
On day 36 Dulce de Tuba Dad and I were texting each other about a solution of when we were going to be able to see each other. We both have kids and want to be careful about the introduction period. His son, the almost 13 year old Tuba Player asks him, "Dad, what are you doing?" to which he answers, "I'm talking to my friend." And then Tuba Player says, "Dad, she's not your friend. She's your girlfriend."
So there you have it. Dulce de Tuba Dad and I are both 42 years old and we are officially boyfriend and girlfriend proclaimed by a 13 year old Tuba Playing son.
Why does that make me laugh? Because it's just like we're back in the ninth grade. Which is kind of how I feel. Like a giddy ninth grade girl that just talked to her boyfriend who just knows he's her Prince Charming.
Who knows if we're going to make it to Day 730 and beyond, but I want to tell you something. I'm looking forward to trying.
For example, on June 14th, Day 1, when we were eating cheesecake at The Cheesecake Factory and he followed them with "I just want to tell you that I've had a very nice evening and I'd like to see you again."
And on July 2nd, Day 19, when we were driving home from his friends backyard Fourth of July party on the 2nd and he followed them with "I've had really great three weeks. I like you and I'd like to grow a relationship with you." I also made him list the things he liked about me.
Then there was July 21st, Day 37, when we were talking on the phone (Day 4 of not seeing each other) and he followed them with "Today has been 37 days of us seeing each other and I just wanted to tell you I haven't felt like this in over 20 years." I had to question his counting abilities because it sure feels like longer than 37 days to which we now have a "count up" (instead of a countdown). We decided that it felt longer because we feel comfortable to be ourselves when we're together. The goofy, dorks we actually are. (I was going to type retard instead of dorks but it's only funny if you say it the way Alan from The Hangover says it and where we got it from. Reh-tard not Ree-tard. Comprende? But hey, dorks works just as well.)
Today is July 25th, Day 41, (and it's also a very long Day 8 of only texts and phone calls since we've seen each other) when Evan enters my virtual world. Hello Evan. What's going on in the world of dating advice?
The title of his post from a reader's question reads: Is My Relationship Too Good To Be True? Whoa! Evan! Come on! I've got a nice little bubble going on here. Don't you dare burst it. He goes on to explain how relationship experts say that the passionate phase of relationships last from 18 - 24 months. You get 18 - 24 months of giddy excitement, butterflies, passionate chemistry and that honeymoon feeling before the hard knocks of life take over and you have to turn to choosing to give unconditional love even when the person drives you crazy and you're in the middle of your not so happily ever after. (Okay, I added that last part myself.)
I just want to clarify that this was not my question sent into Evan. Dulce de Tuba Dad and I both point out to each other on a regular basis that we are not perfect. We've shared our imperfections. And so far, we accept them as they are. Part of us. Moments that we hope we have learned from and have become better people for experiencing those moments.
The good news is- I still have 17 - 23 months of giddy excitement, butterflies, passionate chemistry and that honeymoon feeling. And the other good news, as Evan points out, is:
If you have a boyfriend who seems too good to be true, that’s wonderful news. It definitely beats the alternative (men suck, there’s no one out there!)
and
Take your time, enjoy your guy, and you’ll know a lot better in two years if he is, in fact, “too good to be true”.
Which also means that you, my loyal readers, get to endure 17 - 23 months of sappy, sweet stories like this one:
On day 36 Dulce de Tuba Dad and I were texting each other about a solution of when we were going to be able to see each other. We both have kids and want to be careful about the introduction period. His son, the almost 13 year old Tuba Player asks him, "Dad, what are you doing?" to which he answers, "I'm talking to my friend." And then Tuba Player says, "Dad, she's not your friend. She's your girlfriend."
So there you have it. Dulce de Tuba Dad and I are both 42 years old and we are officially boyfriend and girlfriend proclaimed by a 13 year old Tuba Playing son.
Why does that make me laugh? Because it's just like we're back in the ninth grade. Which is kind of how I feel. Like a giddy ninth grade girl that just talked to her boyfriend who just knows he's her Prince Charming.
Who knows if we're going to make it to Day 730 and beyond, but I want to tell you something. I'm looking forward to trying.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
What are the chances that my online dating days are over?
50/50? 60/40? 80/20? It's only been a month so 80/20 is probably too high. But, having any chance that my online dating days being over is a really nice thought. No more awkward first dates. No more starting from scratch telling my boring life story. No word vomiting on men. No more awkward first kisses. Which also means no more first kisses. Hmm.. well...you know what? I'm okay with that too as long as there are many kisses to follow that first one. And so far, with Dulce de TubaDad, there have been. So that's a nice thought too. Not to mention all the other good stuff that comes with being in a relationship. Hey, here's a stat from last year: one in eight married couples met online. I bet at the end of this year it's going to be one in seven. Maybe. It could happen.
I'm in that whole dreamy state where it's borderline obsessive and crazy when this new person is all you can think about and your friends are tired of hearing about Mr. Wonderful. It's all about when are going to talk to them again and when are you going to see them again or the least when will I get a text or email from them. And I love how he did this or how he said that and we have this in common and we both drink caramel machiattos.
I've become very cautious when I'm in this lovesick phase because I don't want to overwhelm my Mr. Prospective Happily Ever After. It's that phase when everything else suffers- your job, your house, your kids, your friends- because all you can think about is this new person that makes you feel really good about being you and it's like a drug and you just gotta have some more though I have no idea what that feels like because I've never even smoked marijuana but I'm just guessing that that's what it's like because you just want to be with them. You gotta be with them! And my kids haven't really suffered. Well, not yet because they've been on vacation with their grandparents.
So I just tell myself - Put the phone down, girl. He's got your number. Remember what Evan said, "Stand still." That freaking standing still business is hard! Don't run away from them and don't run to them. Just stand still. With open arms. And a smile. And don't jump up and down. Or have that high pitched girl squeal thing. Just stand still. And smile.
So, I wait patiently for Mr. I'm The Man I'll Do The Pursuing to text or call. Sometimes not so patiently. Sometimes I re-read old texts and re-live the excitement I felt when I got them the first time. Sometimes I throw up a round of Hail Mary's and an Our Father but really Dulce de TubaDad is the perfect communicator. He doesn't over-text or over-call. And believe me- I have known those guys. Bleh! There is a fine line between adoring a girl and smothering the hell out of her. Now that I really like him he could call more and I have initiated 2 conversations via text (I was told the first one nearly knocked him out of his chair) but mostly I just wait until he can't stand it anymore and texts or calls me. And then I'm a giddy ninth grade girl all over again.
So yes- and yay! - I'm still seeing Dulce de TubaDad. I've met some of his friends and he's met some of mine and we both passed the friend test. This past week I had to tell him something difficult. I had to have a conversation that I did not want to have. Or as he says, I had to swallow a frog. So before I saw him Saturday night, I turned to the heavens and I prayed. Maybe it wasn't the best prayer because it went something like this:
I picture Morgan Freeman as God with a wide grin, his chin resting in his palm with his elbow on his knee nodding his head back and forth saying "What in the world have I created? Women!"
And then he gets up and calls Evan to see how his clients are doing.
I'm in that whole dreamy state where it's borderline obsessive and crazy when this new person is all you can think about and your friends are tired of hearing about Mr. Wonderful. It's all about when are going to talk to them again and when are you going to see them again or the least when will I get a text or email from them. And I love how he did this or how he said that and we have this in common and we both drink caramel machiattos.
I've become very cautious when I'm in this lovesick phase because I don't want to overwhelm my Mr. Prospective Happily Ever After. It's that phase when everything else suffers- your job, your house, your kids, your friends- because all you can think about is this new person that makes you feel really good about being you and it's like a drug and you just gotta have some more though I have no idea what that feels like because I've never even smoked marijuana but I'm just guessing that that's what it's like because you just want to be with them. You gotta be with them! And my kids haven't really suffered. Well, not yet because they've been on vacation with their grandparents.
So I just tell myself - Put the phone down, girl. He's got your number. Remember what Evan said, "Stand still." That freaking standing still business is hard! Don't run away from them and don't run to them. Just stand still. With open arms. And a smile. And don't jump up and down. Or have that high pitched girl squeal thing. Just stand still. And smile.
So, I wait patiently for Mr. I'm The Man I'll Do The Pursuing to text or call. Sometimes not so patiently. Sometimes I re-read old texts and re-live the excitement I felt when I got them the first time. Sometimes I throw up a round of Hail Mary's and an Our Father but really Dulce de TubaDad is the perfect communicator. He doesn't over-text or over-call. And believe me- I have known those guys. Bleh! There is a fine line between adoring a girl and smothering the hell out of her. Now that I really like him he could call more and I have initiated 2 conversations via text (I was told the first one nearly knocked him out of his chair) but mostly I just wait until he can't stand it anymore and texts or calls me. And then I'm a giddy ninth grade girl all over again.
So yes- and yay! - I'm still seeing Dulce de TubaDad. I've met some of his friends and he's met some of mine and we both passed the friend test. This past week I had to tell him something difficult. I had to have a conversation that I did not want to have. Or as he says, I had to swallow a frog. So before I saw him Saturday night, I turned to the heavens and I prayed. Maybe it wasn't the best prayer because it went something like this:
Dear God, I'm really tired of you testing me and I think I did pretty good recognizing it right away with The Voice. I know it took longer with Colorado Retard but I've come along way, baby. Oh, sorry- no disrespect, sir. Back to my point, God. You see, I really like TubaDad and when I tell him this thing tonight maybe we could make a deal? If you feel so inclined, I mean. Well, this is how I plan on taking it, okay? If he takes it well then he's a keeper. If he doesn't take it well then I should throw him back and maybe I'll just be single forever but I don't really want to be single forever because you know, you gave me a big heart with a lot of love so it really would be sad if he didnt' take it well. So, if it's your plan that we're supposed to be together he better take it well. I mean, I would like for him to take it well. But, I'll leave it to you.
Ay-I'd really appreciate some courage while you're at it-men.Can't you just picture God rolling his eyes at me?
I picture Morgan Freeman as God with a wide grin, his chin resting in his palm with his elbow on his knee nodding his head back and forth saying "What in the world have I created? Women!"
And then he gets up and calls Evan to see how his clients are doing.
 |
| I love Morgan Freeman. |
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
I turned my Match.com profile to OFF.
Have you noticed that I haven't written many updates about past dates on here lately?
I wonder why that is?
It's all TubaDad's fault.
We've spent a fair amount of time together. Mostly him making me dinner, watching some movies, going out to eat, and strolling around.
And all those other guys that I went on dates with don't seem to matter much anymore. Their crazy texting/calling antics and rudeness has all disappeared with the sweetness known as TubaDad. (I wish I had named him Dulce. It defines him better and on our first date we had Dulce de Leche Caramel Cheesecake at The Cheesecake Factory.)
I didn't expect to like him as much as I do. But I really do like him. And that is scary for me to verbalize (or write in this case) because sometimes I stand in that place of fear- the "what if it doesn't work out". Well, if it doesn't work out I will be sad and I'll move on a better person for having putting my heart out there. I try to hop right back out of that fear-based circle every time I find myself there. There is one thing for sure. If I don't give it a go with my whole heart then I'll never know.
And I think my Dulce de TubaDad is worth any amount of heartache I may or may not have to experience down the road.
I wonder why that is?
It's all TubaDad's fault.
We've spent a fair amount of time together. Mostly him making me dinner, watching some movies, going out to eat, and strolling around.
And all those other guys that I went on dates with don't seem to matter much anymore. Their crazy texting/calling antics and rudeness has all disappeared with the sweetness known as TubaDad. (I wish I had named him Dulce. It defines him better and on our first date we had Dulce de Leche Caramel Cheesecake at The Cheesecake Factory.)
I didn't expect to like him as much as I do. But I really do like him. And that is scary for me to verbalize (or write in this case) because sometimes I stand in that place of fear- the "what if it doesn't work out". Well, if it doesn't work out I will be sad and I'll move on a better person for having putting my heart out there. I try to hop right back out of that fear-based circle every time I find myself there. There is one thing for sure. If I don't give it a go with my whole heart then I'll never know.
And I think my Dulce de TubaDad is worth any amount of heartache I may or may not have to experience down the road.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
TubaDad Update
I like him.
I think he likes me.
We have a date on Friday.
And maybe on Saturday.
The End.
I think he likes me.
We have a date on Friday.
And maybe on Saturday.
The End.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
That's What I Get
In my last post I told you about iPhone and how he liked to talk on the phone. He called me one day at work. It was about 11:00am and I thought it would be a quick hello and then I'd be off to my lunch workout.
iPhone talked and talked and talked. Telling me in complete detail a story about his job. He was a fireman.
Firemen are our friends! They're so brave and strong and tall and handsome!
Talk about ruining a great catch phrase! iPhone gave firemen a bad name.
I was finally able to tell him I had to hang up as I was walking into the workout room. I was already exhausted. My trainer was there training with one of our security guards. I immediately let out one of those really long and loud coping sighs because I had a lot to cope with and I vented to my coworkers about Mr. TalksAlot iPhone.
We all laugh. Ha ha. I go change clothes trying to let go of the irritation to have a good workout when the security guard says, "Hope, that's what you get for being on those online dating sites."
That's what I get? What the hell does that mean- that's what I get?
Really? That's what I get? For trying to find a man to share my life and my love?
My not so tactful response was "What the fuck are you talking about that's what I get? Where the hell do you think I'm going to meet single men my age if I'm not online? That's what I get? Are you serious?"
Security is always wanting to run credit checks on the men I go on dates with and I refuse to treat these guys as criminals. He was kind of taken aback with my response but he stood his ground about all men being crazy online.
Security: Well, look at what you've gotten so far. And what are you talking about single men your age?
Hope: Single men. You know- not married. My age. That would be 40 and over. Do you have someone you want to set me up with if you know so many single men my age that don't want to have any more children?
Security: No.
Hope: Then shut up with that's what I get shit before I punch you in the face and that's what you get.
Not my finest moment. Now I'm not just irritated with one over-caller, I'm furious with all men in the whole world.
Some days there isn't any hope.
iPhone talked and talked and talked. Telling me in complete detail a story about his job. He was a fireman.
Firemen are our friends! They're so brave and strong and tall and handsome!
Talk about ruining a great catch phrase! iPhone gave firemen a bad name.
I was finally able to tell him I had to hang up as I was walking into the workout room. I was already exhausted. My trainer was there training with one of our security guards. I immediately let out one of those really long and loud coping sighs because I had a lot to cope with and I vented to my coworkers about Mr. TalksAlot iPhone.
We all laugh. Ha ha. I go change clothes trying to let go of the irritation to have a good workout when the security guard says, "Hope, that's what you get for being on those online dating sites."
That's what I get? What the hell does that mean- that's what I get?
Really? That's what I get? For trying to find a man to share my life and my love?
My not so tactful response was "What the fuck are you talking about that's what I get? Where the hell do you think I'm going to meet single men my age if I'm not online? That's what I get? Are you serious?"
Security is always wanting to run credit checks on the men I go on dates with and I refuse to treat these guys as criminals. He was kind of taken aback with my response but he stood his ground about all men being crazy online.
Security: Well, look at what you've gotten so far. And what are you talking about single men your age?
Hope: Single men. You know- not married. My age. That would be 40 and over. Do you have someone you want to set me up with if you know so many single men my age that don't want to have any more children?
Security: No.
Hope: Then shut up with that's what I get shit before I punch you in the face and that's what you get.
Not my finest moment. Now I'm not just irritated with one over-caller, I'm furious with all men in the whole world.
Some days there isn't any hope.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
JustJim, iPhone & No.9
I rang in the New Year with JustJim. He was a set up from my aunts friend. She had talked about setting us up for a while but we were never single at the same time. JustJim was 52 or 54. I can't remember. He took my boys and I to Main Event on New Year's Eve. The boys loved it! It was a very nice and I enjoyed his company but when it came down to pursuing anything we were too different and the age gap was too much.
Try, try again.
iPhone - well, guess! Come on. Read his nickname.
The guy liked to talk on the phone. A lot!
And, while I think I can be an interesting person with all the different blogs and jobs that I have, I really don't have that much to say if you call me every two hours. Seriously. I'm just not THAT interesting. And, I'm not that interested in every minute detail of your last two hours either. Really. I'm just not.
We never actually met so I guess my number just went down one. But, we talked so much on the phone that I never wanted to meet him but I felt like I knew him.
Moving on.
I must have had some kind of brain fart when I agreed to meet No.9. You see, I don't want to date men who aren't actually divorced yet and No.9 was honest about it but I just missed it. No.9 was nice but I did ask myself how I ended up on dates with men that don't follow sports. No.9 and I went bowling on our first date- bowling on Super Bowl Sunday. Bowling... Super Bowl. Kind of funny now that I think about it. He knew absolutely NOTHING about football. Huh?
We both had an interest in art and photography. He is actually a really great photographer. But, I knew there was no connection when we were sitting in the IMAX movie theater watching Wired to Win and he put his hand on my knee and the tension that ran through me was excruciating. Talk about being wired. But not to win. It wasn't an inappropriate touch but it wasn't a welcome touch either. He asked me out again but I declined.
Persevere, my friends. Persevere.
Try, try again.
iPhone - well, guess! Come on. Read his nickname.
The guy liked to talk on the phone. A lot!
And, while I think I can be an interesting person with all the different blogs and jobs that I have, I really don't have that much to say if you call me every two hours. Seriously. I'm just not THAT interesting. And, I'm not that interested in every minute detail of your last two hours either. Really. I'm just not.
We never actually met so I guess my number just went down one. But, we talked so much on the phone that I never wanted to meet him but I felt like I knew him.
Moving on.
I must have had some kind of brain fart when I agreed to meet No.9. You see, I don't want to date men who aren't actually divorced yet and No.9 was honest about it but I just missed it. No.9 was nice but I did ask myself how I ended up on dates with men that don't follow sports. No.9 and I went bowling on our first date- bowling on Super Bowl Sunday. Bowling... Super Bowl. Kind of funny now that I think about it. He knew absolutely NOTHING about football. Huh?
We both had an interest in art and photography. He is actually a really great photographer. But, I knew there was no connection when we were sitting in the IMAX movie theater watching Wired to Win and he put his hand on my knee and the tension that ran through me was excruciating. Talk about being wired. But not to win. It wasn't an inappropriate touch but it wasn't a welcome touch either. He asked me out again but I declined.
Persevere, my friends. Persevere.
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