A Room of One's Own

Gawd, I hate this house.

My house needs to sell. If I had a dime for every time I said that. It is completely exhausting. All I do is clean the damn thing just in case someone comes to look at it. Every night, every morning, every weekend. Clean, clean, clean. I have NO energy left. And, my realtor told me today that one of the agents mentioned that they thought the house should be, guess what, cleaned. Well, fuck me running. He suggested I get a cleaning lady. Well, gee, I'd love to have someone else do my dirty work but I'm real busy trying to pay for a house that has not sold. Mmmm 'kay?

So, now starts the total pissed off bitch going through of the whole damn house. I'm very much in a "fine have it your way. I give up" kind of mood. I just read a number of articles on "staging" a house. Essentially, I have to go make my house a cold as possible. I have to get rid of everything that I love that makes my house an actual happy place to be for me. I have to get rid of all the pictures, send my dog to live with my ex-husband, store my cookbooks somewhere else, and pack up all my books. This makes me want to cry. I have also arranged to have the carpets steam cleaned.

I hate this. I have damn fury about this. I hate the housing market. I hate the home builders that made it this way, and yes, I think they are to blame for the soft market. They have completely screwed me and didn't even have the common decency to buy me a freaking martini first.

What was in my bed

I woke up with the following things either in or on my bed this morning:

• A Verizon Treo
• A T-Mobile Sidekick
• A watch
• A Siamese Cat
• A marketing plan for the Junior League Cookbook
• A business plan for the same cookbook
• Security Post Orders
• A training manual
• A Lee Gutkind edited book called "Our Roots are Deep with Passion - New Essays by Italian Americans"
• Sunglasses
• A box of Kleenex

I am starting to feel like a college student...

Open Letter to the Online Dating Machine

Dear Stupid Online Boy,

Thank you oh-so-much for checking out my profile online and taking the time to “wink” at me online. I thought I would do you the courtesy of checking out your profile as your picture was kind of cute. Since I have done so, I would like to discuss a few things with you:

I have dating age parameters. Might I refer you back to my profile where it states them? I will not date anyone born during the Reagan Administration nor anyone who was alive when Kennedy was. You are 25. That makes you born in, roughly, 1982. I don’t think Ronnie was on vacation that year.

I see you are looking for a lady who is 22 to 28. I’m 33. I know many math teachers who may be able to give you a crash course in integers. I, myself, am very proficient in greater than and less than. 33 is greater than 28. See? You are also in need of a lady who makes significantly less money than I do and who has never been married and doesn’t have kids. This discrepancy between your wants and my reality is of concern to me. What is of even more concern is that you may not be able to read as all this info is contained in the aforementioned profile.

I see that you are turned off by brainiacs, power, public displays of affection, and tattoos. This leads me to the most important question. What on Earth would you want with a highly successful, Italian control freak with a tattoo and a Mensa IQ?

Oh wait, I see you’re turned on by such things as erotica, flirting, and skinny dipping. I’m gaining a little clarity here. All those things involve or evolve to nakedness. I’m now assuming you saw my profile pictures and saw that I’m not missing teeth nor do I weigh 250 pounds. I’m thinking, since my entire profile and your profile point to the assumption that we would kill each other within 15 minutes of meeting each other, that it’s not my sparkling personality and wit that you’re after. I’m thinking you’re after something else. Let me remind you that I’m 33, not 23. I am certain if you went to a good number of bars, you’ll find plenty of 23 year old girls with self esteem issues that are looking for validation from a man that will give it up for you and can be had, much like a bowl of salted peanuts, free with the purchase of a cocktail.

Best of luck to you!

One of life's little pleasures

Today, I hugged a friend who smelled very good. It got transferred on to me. I couldn't figure out all day long why I smelled like a boy! But it was such a nice smell I didn't care. I love it when a guy smells good. LOVE it. When I visited Kate earlier in the month, I spent over an hour on the dance floor with a delightful young man. He smelled fabulous. My little tipsy self sat on the couch with the girls at Kate's and I giggled about smelling like that boy more than a few times. Delightful. Then there's my friend Sebastian, who smells so unbelievably good that he has the ability to drive a whole party full of women crazy. "Dat boy smell good!" He really does smell that good. Honest.

I had a date on Sunday and once again, I smelled like a boy. It was just nice. I got home, got all tucked into bed and could still smell his cologne, which was quite yummy. I did more giggling. There is something so 11th grade about it. Regardless of what it is that's been done to warrant close enough proximity to transfer that scent, how innocent or how not it may be, one of the true pleasures in life is having that trace bit left over. I love that.

Is this telling?

I am playing with my iTunes and adding playlists. I like to organize things. Y'all KNOW I love a good flow chart. So in the adding and deleting of playlists I clicked on the Top 25 Most Played. That one they make for you but you never look at? I was surprised to see what my top songs were. I think it's a testament that I frequent need to chill out. As a matter of fact I have the chilling out playlist. It makes me happy. It's on right now. So my top five most played songs were:

#5 - Fields of Gold - Eva Cassidy - It's the Sting song done by a little known folk artist that died of cancer a few years back. Her voice is so sharp and gut wrenching and Field of Gold is one of my favorite Sting songs so two great tastes that taste great together.

#4 - A Sunday Kind of Love - Etta James - I love Etta and sister is singing the word.

#3 - Breathe (2AM) - Anna Nalick - There is just something about this song that is so sad and so beautiful. I love the honesty of it.

#2 - Both Sides Now - Joni Mitchell - My version is not the original one but the remastered one that's in Love Actually. When I finally downloaded this, I think I just stood in my kitchen and played this on repeat. It is THAT amazing.

#1 - Silver Springs - Fleetwood Mac - This one surprised me. I guess I never realized how much I play it. I found it on shuffle a few months ago and have had it in heavy rotation since. I've said it before and it bears repeating, "I'll follow you down til the sound of my voice will haunt you." Um, wow.

I'd like to fill this space

But really, I can't get anything from my head out my fingertips.

All I do know is that I need a beach. And a beer.

But then again

For the last few years I have spend St. Patty's day in Jackson, MS. Let's just say they put on a great parade. And the parade lands you right at one of my favorite places, Hal & Mal's. I didn't go this year and was not that upset about it until about right now.

One of my favorite things to do each year after the parade is to sit on the patio at Hal and Mal's and have a beer or three with some of the most fabulous people I have the pleasure of being friends with. Oddly, I went and bought a slew more picture frames and there is a picture on my kitchen counter of my friends Emily, Pippa and myself last year. It is a great picture and I smile every time I walk past it.

After having a few beers and conversation, you move over to the big room and have the time of your life listening to the Pinstripe Brass Band play some New Orleans jazz. These guys rock. They even have a big ol' tuba player. It wears you out but it feels great and it feels right.

Emily posted her pictures this morning and seeing that parade was grand. They had perfect weather which never happened the years I went! Lots of smiling faces and silliness. Great shots of the huge crowd at Hal and Mal's. Our weather is awesome today. I've thrown open all the windows and doors and I'm cleaning the house and listening to Ken Edwards, a small town Mississippi musician, and feeling just a tad bit nostalgic. But, I'm smiling ear to ear about it. Cheers, girls.

Ding ding ding! We have a winner!

I started doing the online dating thing last month. I figured why the hell not. I am a hard working single mother who volunteers way more than she should. How the hell else am I going to meet people? So I threw out there a painfully honest profile along with a picture of me at a Jimmy Buffett concert carrying a beer, a bag of chips and a 2 ft. ceramic Jesus wearing a hula skirt. I never imagined people would actually respond. And, hey if they did, they must have some kind of sense of humor to want to date ME.

It's been an adventure and I've not had any really bad experiences. Full disclaimer: I have only had dates with men named Dave. This is just happen stance and not intentional. Again, this confirms what I've learned, that I am attractive to a) brothas b) waiters c) men named Dave. I have a date with the third Dave, which is actually Dave #2 on Sunday and it will be date #1. Also, oddly, I have only had first dates. I have yet to have a second date.

I have had some random emails. One guy who is much older than anyone I would ever date, keeps emailing me times and locations where he would like to meet me. I've not even responded. It's a little odd and I'm wondering why he keeps emailing me with random appointments. But, today, someone went above and beyond. Today, I got the most hilarious email. Sadly, I don't think he's being funny. But, oh my, this one takes the cake. Mind you, I have never had any contact with this person. Ever.

Subject: How was your day?

"I didn't do a whole lot, I took Elvis for a walk on the green belt and had a smoothie at "in the raw" juice bar. Then got home and jumped in the pool, and ran a few errands. I took my mt. bike in for a tune up, looked at some tires for my truck and recycled some old motor oil. Are you doing anything for st. patty's tomorrow? I think we're going to Rula Bula on Mill ave. Well ttyl"

I am just without speech. Why, on a first contact with someone you'd like to date, would you mention that you recycled motor oil? Am I supposed to be impressed? Well, I do need my oil changed. There is nothing in my profile that would even allude to me being a trucks and tires kind of girl. It reminds me of this commercial about ten years ago where they had guys with awful pick up lines. One became quite the joke between my college boyfriend and I. There is a cowboy in a bar and he looks at a girl and says, "Honey, you look finer 'an a new pair a snow tires." Yeah, I'm feelin' that fine. 

So here it is

I know y'all are DYING to hear how my trip to see Kate went. I'm still too tired to present it coherently. I will give you random details and thoughts and observations though which all boil down to this: The East Coast is a very different place than Arizona.

I can't understand why people have to hurry so much. I just want to take it easy. I missed bright sunny patio bars/restaurants with tables outside. Now, these people know how to get from point A to point B. I get from point A to point B through points F and R. More on this later.

The men in DC are the best dressed men I have ever seen in my entire life. These men were sharp. They worn nice jeans that actually fit them, stylish shoes, button down shirts on the weekend and (be still my heart) coats. Actual coats. Like dress coats. They did not dress like frat boys regardless of age. Man, did they look yummy.

Kate and I gave our own tour of the Smithsonian that started with my narrative of, "First the Earth cooled and then the dinosaurs came, but they got too big and fat and then they died and turned into oil. Then the Arabs came and they bought Mercedes Benzes." We saw the Hope Diamond. My mother told me I had to do it. She would have known it if I didn't. She has spidey sense.

NYC is a concrete jungle. We ended up going from Midtown to Lower Manhattan via Brooklyn because we got on the wrong train. We are masters of nonverbal communication. But, I did get to Ground Zero eventually. There is a gate wall at the memorial and people have had dog tags made with messages. There are all profound and poetic and lovely. Then there was a lock on a link. Just a regular lock with the words, "You held the key to my heart." Oh, I cried.

I really was so happy to be home I thought I was going to through myself on the desert ground and kiss it. I had a great time. But, this Sunday, I am going to find a totally laid back patio bar in Scottsdale and just sit. I am going to talk to people and make new friends because that's what we do here. I will wander with no destination in mind.

Things I love right now

I got back from a four day trip to DC and NYC with my dear friend Kate. I had a fabulous time but there are a few things I am currently in love with:

• Cacti
• Weather in the 80's
• The large expanse of desert behind my house, which I stared at for almost an hour today
• My bed

My favorite thing in the world at this very moment is my bed. I have been up since 2am Arizona time. Stick a fork in me. I'm off to go enjoy the luxury and happiness that is my bed. Have I mentioned how much I love my bed? I'll tell you all about the trip tomorrow.