Not much to write down these days. This is a tough time of the year for me. Not just the heat of the summer, but the memories of loved ones passed. I find it so hard to let the sadness go. I find that I can't even begin to think about the good times without crying. OK, it doesn't help that T.o.M. is around the corner, but I'm way too sensitive to begin with about this.
Saturday's date was one hour in length and consisted of 20 minutes of hearing about his hobby of roller derby (yes, it still exists), and 20 minutes of work-related commiseration of being in the healthcare industry, 10 minutes of trading stats of where we grew up, went to school, etc. and 10 minutes of talking about how great a little town like Morristown is. At the end of the date, which ended because he had to get to friends in Montclair, he give me a friendly hug, said nice to meet you, thanks for coming out, and that was that. Safe to say there was no spark whatsoever for either of us. That's OK because he looked like a cross between Jimmy Kimmel and a geek out of Revenge of the Nerds and I really wasn't expecting anything. Hey buddy, Hollywood wants you back in wardrobe.
What I did feel and continue to feel is extremely hormonal. Which is partly why I want to eat everything and partly why I want to cry all the time and partly why I'd probably jump the bones of any guy willing.
OK so hopefully you didn't snort your coffee.
I have a date on Friday night with a lawyer. I can see my sister jumping for joy right now. Eh, you know me, those types are usually too conservative for me. We spoke on the phone and I can tell you he is a rambler....good thing he isn't a courtroom attorney. Yeah, so we'll see what The Rambler and I can manage to come up with on a Friday night. He's a dog lover, but is quasi allergic to cats....I suspect that's the dealbreaker right there, because I just don't groom Duncan enough for him to be non-allergenic I'm afraid. He insists it is only when he is in the cat's presence and not just from stray hair on my clothes, so we'll see. And no, in case you've run the paragraphs together, I don't think this is the type of guy whose bones I'll be jumping due to a flash of hormonal overdrive. Like I said, conservative. And suddenly I think of the conservative yet hooker-purchasing Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, and suddenly I think "well....maybe...." but I doubt it.
Oh, by the way, those crazy imported pine "tree benches" constructed over in the slumlord's backyard? Haven't been used once. I love it. I wonder if I could go hang my wash on them; the method would surely work better than the 1972 dryer I have.
If you're not laughing and smiling, let's wait a few moments. Something is bound to happen to me that will be hilarious.
Losing Weight; Finding Men
"Never make someone a priority in your life when you are just their option."