For My Next Trick...

So, I had a semi-date last Friday night with someone I will let remain silent for no other reason than no one needs to know. As usual, I will give you a little background on this situation. This person who we will call "Vince", since I am in complete love with Vince Vaughn, I can pretend. I meet Vince over the telephone at my office. I know. It was a desperate attempt to get out of the house and meet some new people after all of my broken heartedness. I suggest to Vince that we meet for lunch one day and he completely blows that off. I didn't see a thing wrong with that. Sometimes, I don't even eat lunch. We agree to meet at a location close to both of us, actually across the street from where he lives, for happy hour. We agreed to meet at a certain time which was 6:30 at the designated location. He tells me what he's wearing and where he is sitting at the bar so I will know who to look for.

I get in my car and I AM SO EXCITED about meeting this new person. I can feel myself rising out of the gutter that I have been living in for the past couple of months. I am singing at the top of my lungs with the CD playing, checking my lipstick and feeling like a rock star. The heavens have opened up and I can hear the angels singing. I walk into the place and look around, I look around real hard. I'm not seeing anyone who even catches my eye, but I keep looking around. Then, there he is. Sitting at the bar. He's nothing what I thought he would look like.

Now, I'm not one to judge one by their looks, I can verify this with photographic evidence, but DAMN son. I sat down and decided to make the most of the evening. After all, I was paying a babysitter $10.00 an hour to watch mini-me. I made the decision to sit there for an hour and chat with Vince. After a couple of beers, I looked over and Vince started drooling and the most amazing thing happened. His lips and tongue got too big for his mouth. I've never seen anything like this before.....very strange. I tried not to stare, but I couldn't help it. I think I even handed him a napkin.

Just as I was about bored and covered in this man's drool, in walked a friend of his. We will call him "Alex" because I like that name. Alex is tall, dark and handsome and, he sat down next to me. I decided to stay a bit and see what ol' Alex was all about. We had a couple of drinks and I gave him my telephone number. Everyone I have talked to about this is completely stunned that I found a date while on a semi-date. How does one do that? I'm thinking the date Gods have felt really sorry for me these last couple of months and they are hookin a gurl up. Next post......DATE WITH ALEX!?!?!?!

PPPPHHHEEWWWW

I'm about to speak upon a topic very serious in today's workforce. I only speak of this because it happens to me on a daily basis. I don't know what I've done in a previous life to deserve this punishment. You see, here in my office building, we share a community bathroom. There is one ladies restroom on each floor that all of the ladies on that floor share. I'm not sure how many of us are on this floor, but if I had to make a quick guess, I would shoot for about 10. Now, I want all of you readers out there to tell me if this happens to you or if I am the only human being that is cursed with this problem. Usually around 10 or so, I have to use the ladies room. I open the door and it hits me like a ton of bricks. The stinch of someone blowing the freakin tiles off the bathroom walls. I mean shit for damn daddy. I wonder why these people even bother eating. I go in there and the paint is literally peeling from the ceiling. My long beautiful eyelashes fall to ash when I enter the bathroom. There is a green fog rolling overhead. I always say PPPHHHEEEWWWW....out loud. It makes me sick to be in there.

It never fails that after I've hurried through my restroom break, someone walks in as I'm washing my hands. The smell or rancidness hits them like a ton of bricks and I can see their eyes start to water. She looks at me like "damn, your ass is rank!?!?!" I want to scream at the top of my lungs, "IT WASN'T ME YOU FUCKTARD!?!?!?!", but I don't. I go one about my morning in hopes that one day the forces of ass will turn and I can give the look to someone else.

Have A Nice Day!

Something happen this morning at mini-me's school that made me relive an "episode" that happened to me about 20 years ago and it is still so fresh in my mind.

Let me start by telling you a little background on this issue. When I was growing up, back in the days that are FINALLY over, my mom was one of those moms who had no clue. None.What.So.Ever. It wasn't her fault. She didn't have the model childhood to follow, but she tried to raise me and my brother the best way she knew how. She didn't care what the other moms thought and would voice that opinion any time, any place, and I do mean any place. I was one of the kids who tried painfully hard to fit in. I never really made it into the "in" crowd until well after high school and that was only because I knew where to get all of the good drugs. Growing up, I was not pretty, I was not a cheerleader, I did not play sports, I was not skinny, I didn't have all the cool clothes, and I shared my brother's friends. I was painfully shy and was pretty much a loner in Junior High. In the front of my Junior High, there was a huge oak tree that grew up out of the parking lot in front of the school. Under this tree, every morning, gathered the "cool" kids to talk about the events of the day, make plans for the weekend, discuss boys who were discussing girls and wait for the bell to ring. If you didn't stand under this oak tree, you stood with the band geeks or the kids that smoked cigarettes. I didn't play an instrument and I didn't try smoking until I was well into High School. Basically, I just blended in to try and be "cool".

Every single morning for the entire three years I attend school there, I would tell my mom to please, please drop me off at the sidewalk and I would walk up to the tree. Every single morning, it never happened. My mom would inch her Volvo up closer and closer to that tree and every morning I would inch closer and closer to a panic attack. She finally did it one day. I remember it like I remember the birth of mini-me. My mom pulled her hoopty-ass Volvo right up through the middle of all the cool kids, turns to me and says "Have a nice day!" I wanted to throw myself under her Volvo and let her drive over me. As I am sitting her typing this story out right now, today, my chest is tightening and I've had to put my head between my legs. I made a mental note right then and there to never EVER, ever put my future mini-me through an embarrassing moment like that. One that would scar her for life, one that she would never forget, one that would be burned into her memory like a first kiss.

I am sure that one day, I will totally embarrass her and she will totally freak tha hell out just like I did. When it finally happens, I'm sure that I will laugh and tell her to "Have a nice day!" I am my mom's mini-me.

I Need A Sign, Baby

I sat at my desk yesterday and begged for a sign. A sign to let me know I was doing the right thing. I got my sign. Yesterday. Around 6. Wasn't the sign I was wishing for, but it was a sign. I wanted to throw myself down and scream at the top of my lungs, but his dog accidentally peed on my dog. Tough break for a dog who's only 2 inches off the ground. I had to go inside and give her a bath.

Now, I need to figure out where to go from here. I've lost myself during the past seven months. I don't know who I am anymore. I. am. lost. I don't know that I've ever been this lost before. I've gone through a divorce and two bad breakups and I don't remember feeling this disconnected from everything around me. I want my heart to heal and my head to stop pounding. I want to stop over analyzing everything and stop thinking about it period. I want to be able to sleep. Awwww....sleep, how I've missed you so. I want to be able to drive down the street and not look at cars that are the same color and think it may be you. I hate it when I do that. I hate that you've made me lost. I hate that I fell in love with you. I hate that I still love you.

How does one find themselves after they discovered they are lost? Do you join a gym and workout all of your frustrations? Do you change your hairstyle to make yourself look different even though you're eaten up inside? Do you try and shop out your misery? Do you try to pretend that you're not looking for him when you're walking your dog? Do you take up crazy ass hobbies like scrapbooking to try to pass the time? GRRRRRR......what is the answer to this question?

Time is the answer. Soon enough I will forget him. I will move on like the tumbleweed that I am. I will find someone else that gives me that hot and bothered feeling. Someone that I want to talk to every waking minute. Someone who adores me. Only this time, I will hold my heart close to me until just the right time. I will wait for the sign.

The One

Someone sent me this a couple of days ago. Girl Facts:
When she wants a hug she will just stand there. When you break a girls heart,she still feels it when you run into each other 3 years later. When a girl is quiet, millions of things are running through her mind. When a girl is not arguing,she is thinking deeply. When a girl looks at you with eyes full of questions, she is wondering how long you will be around. When a girl answers, "I'm fine, " after a few seconds, she is not at all fine. When a girl stares at you, she is wondering why you are so wonderful. When a girl lays her head on your chest, she is wishing for you to be hers forever. When a girl says that she can't live without you, she has made up her mind that you are her future. When a girl says, "I miss you, " no one in this world can miss you more than that. When a girl is mean to you after a breakup she wants you back, but she's scared she'll get hurt and knows you're gone forever.
Guy Facts:
When a guy calls you, he wants to be with you. When a guy is quiet, he's listening to you. When a guy is not arguing, he realizes he's wrong. When a guy says, "I'm fine, " after a few minutes, he means it. When a guy stares at you, he wishes you would care about him and wonders if you do. When you're laying your head on a guy's chest, he has the world. When a guy calls you everyday, he is in love. When a (good) guy tells you he loves you, he means it. When a guy says he can't live without you, he's with you till your done. When a guy says, "I miss you, " he misses you more than you could have ever missed him or anything else .
I sat at my desk at work and cried like somebody had just run over my dog. I guess given my current broken heartedness, I'm a little emotional. I often wonder if I'm doomed to roam this crazy place called earth looking for my perfect match until my final days. I want that someone who is "The One." My heart is broken into a zillion pieces right now and I have that helpless feeling of not being about to make it through the day. It is hard to get out of the bed in the mornings to face the day. I want to stay curled up in the fetal position and only get out of bed to eat a mixing bowl of Lucky Charms. My chest hurts, my eyes are swollen from crying and my heart aches. I ache. I want to overmedicate myself just to get some peaceful sleep. I check my phone every three minutes for his call and hit the Refresh button to see if he has emailed me. I want to call him so badly to chat, but I know it will end in me feeling like a retard. I keep thinking about why he didn't chose me. I wanted to be his "The One" and he be mine.

With the passing days, this feeling of despair will fade and I will continue my search for "The One."

Ceeeeeerrn Dogs & Throw Up Rides

It's that time of year again here in my city in Florida. The good ol' FAIR has run up into town. Just like so many years before, I could smell the FAIR the second I stepped out of the car. The smell of cotton candy, polish dogs, ceerrn dogs and cow poop nicely embedded its self in my nostrils. The sound of carnies trying to take his last two dollars to win a prize for this pretty lady, the sound of Bon Jovi taking me back to Paradise City, and the popping of balloons still ring in my ears. The sight of flashing lights, toothless men and women walking around in cutoff shorts and wife beaters in the 50 degree weather have blinded me once again. The kiddies riding every ride three or eight times. The petting zoo full of the same animals I've seen in years past, eating outta my hand, and me looking for the nearest bottle of hand sanitizer. It's a sign that Summer is over and Winter is on its way. It never fails to be bone chilling cold where you must dust off your winter coat to fight the chill in the air. There's nothing like the FAIR.

These Days

I've been feeling a little, well let's just say I've been feeling down. I've lost my direction. Here I was a year ago with a well thought of plan. A plan that had been prepared and even tweaked a couple of times to perfection. A plan that involved me having the life I wanted, or thought I wanted. Now, I'm living in a city where I have very few contacts, I'm on a "break" with the BF I was to marry, and I'm in something with the neighbor, Mike (you know the guy with the friend named Mike and the dogs, Mike and Mike, which is a whole other post). I like my job, but I'm not IN LOVE with it. It has been weighing heavy on my mind and heart these last couple of weeks the fact that a year ago I was getting married, probably having another baby and going to live out with the cows. Now, I'm single, living in a one bedroom apartment, bioclock ticking so loud it keeps me up at night, something with neighbor Mike and no plan. Why does someone need a plan you ask? Well, people like me, you know people who are borderline OCD and probably a bit bipolar, need plans for order in our lives. There are people who are fly by the seat of their pants kinda peeps and I applaud them for that, but I'm not one of those people. I think I used to be one of those peeps back in the late 80's, but not anymore. I get really nervous if I don't know what I'm wearing the next day much less being in her 30's with no plan. I really need to shake this pity party feeling I've been having, take my meds and make a new plan.

Awwww....Freak Out!

Okay, here's tha question. What is the single occurrence that could possibly send a single mother in a new city with no friends or family on a Sunday afternoon around 4:30 into a total and complete panic attack? Anyone, anyone??? Okay, you over there in the corner......no, not the two guys named Mike and their two dogs Mike. Okay, you over there with the donkey.....yes, yes, you're right, it would be walking out to her car and it NOT STARTING!

Yes, I decide to get my lazy ass up, put clothes on, dress the child and drive to the grocery store. I get down to my car, get everyone buckled in and I put the key in the ignition and tha bitch goes.....rrrrrrrr. Right then, I freak tha hell out. Not physically freak out, but mentally freak my shit out. In my head I'm thinking what tha %&**@#^ shit ass crap I'm I supposed to do now!!!!!!

For a second, I think I quit breathing and temporarily passed out in the driver's seat. Without freaking the child out, I somehow get back upstairs and call the BF who is in a different city. He clearly did not see what the BIG problem was. By this time, I'm in full attack, I'm sweating, I feel like I'm gonna throw up and I start babbling algebraic equations. How could this be happening to me NOW on a freakin Sunday afternoon????? How tha shit ass crap am I gonna get to work tomorrow?????? How am I gonna get the freakin shit ass car to the shop??

After freakin tha hell out for about 22.3 minutes, I realize that I have roadside assistance on my cellphone. I AM A FREAKIN GENIUS. I call the roadside peeps and before I even hung the phone up, they are in front of my place ready to jump my bitch off. I couldn't believe it. I was gonna get to sleep tonight. I was gonna get to go to work in the morning. I was gonna be able to drive my bitch to tha shop.

Tell me again, why was I freaking out?

Butt Today...

I feel like complete butt today. My depression has kicked in overdrive and I just feel blah. My eyelids hurt, I feel nausea, I'm exhausted and my patients is next to none. It's the weekend of course which makes it ten times worse.

My daughter wants to ask me 1.5 billion questions every 30.6 seconds on a normal day. Especially when I want to be left alone. I made the announcement this last night that I did NOT want to be woken up under and circumstances on Saturday morning. I made it to 9:30 this morning when I was awaken this morning to the ever ending questions before my pretty blue eyes were even open. It started something like this as I'm peacefully sleeping on a Saturday morning:

Her: Momma, Momma, wake up. Are you awake yet? Her: I'm hungry. Me: Give me a second to wake up. Her: No, I'm hungry now. I want something to eat now. Me: Please let me wake up (as she is prying my eyelids open). Me: (as I'm walking to the toilet) What do you want to eat? Her: Can I have Chips? Me: You can't have chips for breakfast. What else do you want? Her: Gummies? Me: No, you cannot have Gummies. Her: How bout some cookies and milk. Milk is good for you... You see folks, this started out to be something it shouldn't have been. The child is 5 years old. She's been eating breakfast every Saturday morning for the past 5 years. Not a Saturday has EVER gone by where she has not eaten breakfast. I'm standing there giving her the "GLARE" and wondering why in the hell she thinks that this particular Saturday she's going to get to eat chips or candy for breakfast. I knew right then, this was going to be a long day full of me laying around in the bed and her watching Disney Channel while eating a bowl of Cherrios.

My Debut

Okay, okay...I've finally decided to sit down and start a blog. I've been rolling this idea around in my head for several months now and I've decided it is time. I guess I'm going to let the world in on how my mind works and how frantic it becomes some days. I'm not sure who will read my blog or if anyone will even care about my crazy stories of a mother, a career woman, a single parent, and a rap music loving freak.

Let me start by introducing everyone to River $ity Rydars. Yes, I know, you're all probably scratching your heads right now wondering why a 32 year old woman with a child and a profession is listening to River $ity Rydars. I do love rap/R&B music but I know one of the members of the "crew." He goes by "G". I used to know him as "Lil G" but I guess through the years he has since dropped the "Lil." I used to date a friend of "G's" from what seems like a hundred years ago. I used to watch "G" scribble on notebooks that he carried around, along with 20 other notebooks with scribble in them, in a backpack. We go out to the club and he had that backpack. We would see him at the mall and there was the backpack. Even after me and the friend broke up, I would still see "G" around town scribbling with the backpack.

I thought about "G" and his peeps through the years. I often wondered what came of all that scribbling. One day, I logged into my Myspace account and there he was. Older of course. Right there...with some of the peeps. I couldn't believe my eyes....or ears for that matter. I sat at my computer and listen to all of their tracks that I could download. I sat at my computer and smiled for a long time.

I am so proud of him for following his dream, for keeping all those notebooks with the scribble in them. I am so excited for him. He is pursuing what has meant the most to him for what seems like forever.

Hopefully, I will make it to one of his shows and I will get to stand in the front row to cheer him one. I will probably be the only 32 year old baby's momma in the crowd : )