You get messages like this:
hi it is me *** i saw ur profiles and was hopeing u had the same id here., i am *** a crtified welder a professinal painter and a part time massussei, was hopeing we could chat soem times…i took the test and it said we were a exceptional perfect match, i just hope u agree,, urs awaiting *** p.s. i loved the pics, u r sooo cool funny and crazy out going, , i really hope this gets to u so we can talk, be friends and maybe a lot more..
It’s raining. This is proof that God does not want Jen and me to go see “Taming of the Shrew” and meet Paul Todaro this evening.
But, as Jen pointed out, this is probably a good thing…at least for her…as she has only slept about 4 hours in the past 48. (or something) She compounded the lack of sleep yesterday by taking Benadryl for her allergies, and let’s just say that it’s been a LONG time since I’ve seen her quite so…loopy.
🙂
No news on the job front yet…although I noticed in yesterday’s job finder that the charter school that interviewed me and definitely should have notified me either way by now is looking for a principal. That can’t be a good sign…
I also sent a letter of interest to one of the schools where I subbed last spring, and spoke to the superintendent’s secretary on the phone. We shall see…
Additionally, I see that a private business college is looking for a full time English instructor. Assboy taught at this school. How hard can it be?
So I was on a date last night with a guy who is in the final stages of a divorce. We went out to dinner, and who should happen to be at the restaurant but…dum dum dum…his wife.
His wife.
I am not making this up.
They’ve been legally separated for a year and at this point, it’s just a matter of putting the final paperwork through. They remain on amicable terms (although he did say “We’ll see if that holds true after this.” eek!). She and her friend were dining on the patio, and said she saw him walk by. So she stopped by the table to say hello on her way to the ladies’ room.
I’m betting she also wanted a closer look at me…
He said, “I thought these things only happened in the movies.”
I said, “Well, if it didn’t actually happen to people in real life, no one would write it into a movie…”
In these past 9 (almost 10) months, I’ve done a lot of reading about dating. I’ve perused a number of books, articles, online articles, etc., and I’ve noticed a trend.
No one writes about the second date.
They write about how to find dates. They write about how to get ready for the first date. They write about how to successfully turn that first date into a second date.
But after that? They skip ahead. Start talking about relationship issues. When to become exclusive. When to get physical. When to say “I love you.”
But why does no one write about that second date?
See, I have this sort of curse.
I don’t seem to have a problem getting dates. In fact, there have been times when I’ve been overwhelmed with first dates and have had to step back.
Usually, if there’s a first date and no second date, that’s my doing. Not always, mind you, but usually.
But the second date, well, that’s another story.
I’ve had a significant number of guys who, after a first date, seem very interested in seeing me again. So we make that second date. We go out, and have a grand time. Again, they seem very interested in seeing me again. Sometimes they even ask, “can I see you again?”
And then?
Nothing.
No phone call. No email. No polite brush-off. Just nothing.
They disappear.
Can anybody tell me where these guys are going? Is there some great vacuum into which these guys are pulled? Are they with all of the Other Socks, missing pens and earring backs that also disappear, never to be found again?
I tried desperately to research the topic, and what I found was a void.
No one talks about it. I can’t be the only one, can I?
I picked up my materials at the community college yesterday.
I have to plan a course. And write a syllabus.
I’m actually going to be teaching a college course.
Ohmygod. Who am I?
This one from Carbon Leaf – Paloma:
Chase the high ground – where you’d rather be
where you might be found
Face all aglow, to leave from here
to pack up and go
But it takes some time to get away
And you will have to build from what remains.
To run it takes the courage of a lamb
To love, the fierceness of a stormPaloma you wonder if you’ll miss the thunder
And everyone’s staring but no one is caring for you now
Just spread your wings, latch on to the breeze
Just take the leap…and you’re freeChase the higher ground – where you’d rather be
Where you might be found
This move may erase the troubles in your head
Or expose the absence of your soul
And so, it takes some time to get away
And you will have to tear down what remains
And I can’t stand for goodbyes
So hold on to me, or lead the wayPaloma you wonder if you’ll miss the thunder
And everyone’s staring but no one is caring for you now
Just spread your wings, latch on to the breeze
Just take the leap…and you’re freePace yourself when outrunning fear
Take cover when it’s dark
And keep an even keel
In your world you’re only a phone away
But in my world you’re too far to feel
And it may take some time to learn what’s real
And you may have to beg and borrow
And you will surely steal
Remember all those lonely sessions
Turned into yesterday’s lessons
To never forget love. To never forget lovePaloma you wonder if you’ll miss the thunder
And everyone’s staring but no one is caring for you now
Just spread your wings, latch on to the breeze
Just take the leap…and you’re freePaloma you cry out you beg for connection
The dreams you seek are straight ahead in every direction
Now you’re free
Now that you’re free
Now that you’re free
You’re free(emphasis mine)
ETA: I felt that I should add a brief explanation as to why this is here. While it has nothing to do with my current mood, it does fit in with a certain theme I have in mind right now. It’s time for me to do some writing, purge some inner demons. And I’m going to start with a soundtrack.
I was in a foul mood yesterday. Everything was wrong. I was in such a foul mood, in fact, that I had to check to see if it could be explained away by PMS. (the answer was no.)
I hated my job. Even though I had received amazing compliments on a story I’d written that’s in the issue coming out this weekend. The subjects of the story were in the office, crying as they read it. They hugged me, thanked me profusely, asked if I’ve ever considered writing books.
This should have made me happy, right?
Instead, it just reminded me that this job is a placeholder, that I should be doing bigger, better things. I’m better than this job. I know I am.
Over the weekend, I had a wonderful time in Cleveland…so much so, in fact, that I said “I think I might seriously consider moving to Cleveland next year, if there’s nothing keeping me in Buffalo.”
But yesterday, I was feeling stuck. I was wondering if the decision to stay was the wrong one. I was wondering if I could be preparing my classroom right now, had I gone somewhere else.
I hated my tutoring job, and was feeling resentful that I have to do it at all.
I was feeling resentful of my younger brother, who has a great new job in his field.
Do you ever just want to scream “What about me? When’s it my turn? It isn’t fair!” and throw a three-year-old style tantrum?
That was how I felt yesterday.
I can’t believe I forgot to talk about this…
You may remember that several months ago, I posted that my little brother was working at the same TV station as assboy’s brother-in-law. Little brother met him briefly, early in his employ there, but there was no indication of recognition. (For anyone who doesn’t know us, little brother looks a LOT like me. When he was in the musicals in high school and wearing stage makeup, his friends called him Erin.)
I didn’t really expect anything different. The BIL (weatherboy) is probably the most self-absorbed person I know.
Anyway, little brother heard that weatherboy and his wife recently had a baby. I said “If you run into him again, tell him I said congratulations.”
The week before little brother left to go to the new station, he did.
“Oh, by the way, my sister wanted to congratulate you and C on the new baby,” my brother said.
“Oh? Who’s your sister?
Little brother said the look on weatherboy’s face when he said my name was priceless.
Ah, to have been a fly on that wall…
Exciting news–I got a part-time teaching gig at a community college! English 101.
This is very, very good, but I got the news in a strange way. Department secretary called, and talked to Jen. She talked very much as if I knew I had the job. Um, I didn’t. But there’s a mailbox set up for me, and I’m supposed to stop in next week to pick up materials. Woohoo!
Some days, I don’t quite know who I am. I’m having one of those days today.
Last night, I put up a post saying that I had nothing to say. While it is in fact true that those were all posts that I enjoyed reading, and I would love for anyone who’s out there reading to enjoy as well, I decided that it just wasn’t really me.
In those moments when I’m not sure who I am, I sometimes try to be other people. That doesn’t work for me, and one faithful reader and dear friend took me to task for it. And he was right.
The thing is, I’ve been going through some things lately that for one reason or another are inappropriate to post in this forum. (It’s true, readers. I don’t share everything. Some things are just too personal…that’s what good old pen-and-paper journals are for.) But then I get stuck. I’m at a loss. I have nothing to say here, and I hate that…for, as I’ve mentioned before, it’s the fact that people are reading, the fact that people come here and come back, that makes me want to keep going.
And so I’m afraid…I’m afraid that if I post nothing, the people won’t come back. Call it a funk, call it bloggers block, call it whatever.
I deal in words…in my private life, in my (ahem) professional life, in my hopeful career(s). It’s scary to be a writer without any words. Because if I don’t have any words, I don’t have any idea who I am.
Today is one month until my birthday. I look at it with a mixture of anticipation and dread. On the one hand, I’m ready to leave my twenties behind. On the other, what lies ahead for me? Will I find that great job? Get published? Fall in love and have babies? Will I be the best me that I can possibly be?
I need to pick up, take charge, stop being driven by insecurity and fully embrace ME.
I am: twenty-nine and counting.
I am a teacher. A writer. A journalist. A daughter. A sister. A friend.
I am highly emotional. Empathetic. Insecure. Underemployed. Shy. Fiercely loyal to those I care about.
I hate to lose. I hate hurting people. I can’t stand having people angry with me.
I am terrified of bees.
I hope for the best, but often expect the worst.
I’ve had my heart broken twice, and my spirit broken once.
I love to dance. I can’t sing, but I wish I could.
I can’t wait to have a classroom of my own.
I am emotionally high maintenance.
I still believe in true love.