Trust those instincts and tiny little hairs on your neck....

Every Saturday morning, I look forward to sleeping in,..sort of.  My little nymph is now old enough to wander into my room, when she awakes, and snuggles in bed with me after her step dad has already left for work.

Then I'll plan our breakfast and think about all the cleaning I have to do or whatever events we have to attend once my fiance returns from work.  Every other weekend I drive my daughter to her dad's for the night and half of that time, I can't be trusted with that kind of freedom. Mwahahaha...another story.

I think back to when I was single and childless, living in an apartment with my best guy friend, more like a brother, and what that life was like. There is one moment that will forever stick out to me because it was scary as hell.  Not that I hadn't put myself in precarious situations before, but this one I had no part in. I just knew and still know that if I had reacted any differently, I don't know what would have happened to me, but most likely it would have been bad.

I parked in an underground ramp when I lived there. It was very convenient and worth the extra $40 a month. When I would pull into my spot, the door to the stairs and the apartments were practically behind my vehicle. At the top of the landing of the stairs you could find my door one door away. It was pretty awesome, especially for a lazy gal like myself.

Back in the garage, at the end opposite of where my vehicle sat, was the big door that cars would enter through and a small door for people to walk through right next to it. Not 10 feet from those doors was another red door that would take you to the extremely slow elevator. It was always much faster to take the stairs, unless you had your arms full. Then you would patiently wait the minute or two it would take for the elevator to get to you.

Even as convenient as my location was, sometimes I did not feel like hiking up the stairs...I told you I was lazy.

On this particular day, I pulled into my parking spot in my white buick rendezvous after work. It was winter and dark by the time I got home. Shortly after I shifted the transmission into park, the hairs on the back of my neck literally stood up. Something felt off and I was nervous immediately. I saw or heard no one when I entered.

I opened the door to my car and slowly climbed out looking around. I still saw nothing. I began to walk toward the steps, but before I reached the end of my vehicle. I saw them. Two men, roughly my age, that I had never seen before. They were in the ramp of the garage and looked lost. That seemed odd to me, as they shouldn't have been able to be there without having keyed access, so I made a quick decision to go toward the elevator. I wouldn't look rude or scared. I would just look like, that was my intention the whole time. (Just in case I was wrong about my suspicions about them)  Until they started calling out to me.

It started with excuse mes and ended with "Is she fucking deaf?" Yeah I'm gonna turn around as a single 20 something girl in an enclosed garage to two men who are clearly following me and getting more and more agitated with me.  That didn't seem like the smart thing to do.

As I got close to the door for the elevator I remembered how slow that it was and how even more trapped in much smaller quarters I would be.  And even less exposed to help, should I have needed it. I then decided to go out the little "people" door by the garage car door. I hit the outside and trudged through the snow to get to the steps.

I fumbled with my keys before I even got to the door, so they would be in my hand and hopefully quickly get me into my building. I could still hear them behind me. My heart raced and it felt like all the blood had drained from my face. I managed to get the door opened quickly. I rushed through it and bolted inside the foyer, but I was still unsure if they were truly a threat or fellow residents. And I was still terrified. I was worried if I took the time to turn around and make the sure the door closed, that I would come face to face with them. 

Once half way down the hall, I no longer knew if they were still following me, I just ran all the way to my apartment and burst into the room, upset and terrified, calling out to my roommate.  I just had to say I was being followed and he was out the door, no questions asked.

He came back a minute later, having found no one. Maybe they just wanted help, maybe it was innocent, but something felt off before I even saw them, and I'm not for one minute regretful that I followed my instincts that day.

When I was getting ready to leave the complex permanently, I had brought this up as a complaint about feeling unsafe. They then proceeded to yell me at me for not telling them about this.  As much as I could understand their point, I don't think shaming and scolding women that find themselves in these situations to be the best reaction, but it's in the past. And perhaps they and myself learned something. Next time I'll say something, but what if I was wrong? What if they had no ill intentions and I got them in trouble for nothing? And I didn't exactly know who they were anyway. True, their "cameras" recorded, but no one actively watched.  I want them to help me in the middle of trouble, not solve my murder later.

And I'm glad for my less than exciting life (as it may seem to others) that I now lead. However, now I get to worry about things like this happening to my beautiful child. Grrr....

Who in the hell are you calling crazy!!???

Do I tell more dating horror stories from the past, or do I move onto happier times...well that's not entertaining, is it?  :) Dating horror stories it is!

Honestly, I'm trying to remember what life was like when I first became single. I thought it would be easy. In my mind, I did nothing wrong in my previous relationship. In my mind, he neglected me, criticized me, didn't love me for one reason or another. I'll never know the truth of what happened to us, I only know my version and I truly believed I was as awesome as everyone told me I was as his girlfriend.  And therefore, this would be a snap to find another relationship, right?

Not having dated for eight years, well, you don't really know how to do it and there is a right way to date...apparently. Not that I knew that...  You know, ways that don't make you look desperate or crazy. Who knew?

One thing I learned is, that if a woman is honest with how she feels in a positive way, she is desperate and crazy.  If a woman tells a man how she feels that paints him in a negative light she is just crazy and psycho.  Basically, what I learned from men while dating is that no matter what we women do, if men don't like it or don't understand it, then clearly, we are crazy.

They are never jerks or cold or wrong, we are just nuts. (I know, very unfair, because as women, we think you are all of those things when we don't hear what we like) Obviously, I think it works both ways.  If someone is trying to introduce me to his family after the first date, I think he is nuts. Desperate nuts and I run for the hills. So I get it, but this story is written from my perspective on being thought of in those terms, so I'll write this how I see fit. 

Anyhoo, I'm used to "relationship" texting.  I send you a text and you respond, like a friend, a parent, or a boyfriend, timely.  I didn't expect that there were rules when it's someone you're dating and you deliberately wait forever to answer a text or send one.

I didn't know there was dating etiquette on how to text.  I was completely wet behind the dating ears.  So after some online dating experiences that weren't great, I went to a wedding, and met a very attractive man, who I later would learn was very strange, but still very attractive. I could never have a conversation with this person. I don't believe he was dumb I just didn't get him. I didn't know if he was joking or serious or what, but he was definitely off and impossible to communicate with. Well verbally, anyway.  

And of course, like many people do, we confuse that non verbal communication with love or feelings of any level. If I really looked back and evaluated what that experience meant to me, it truly meant nothing.  I was completely and totally in lust with him, but he was not relationship material by any means. I'm truly grateful that I didn't end up with him.

But I was a different person then. I was lonely and confused and depressed. And I didn't even recognize it. I would text too much and I would expect too much and oddly, I didn't expect enough at the same time.

I expected too much from the wrong person, but set myself up for failure by not demanding better or more.  Our first "date" (patterns baby, patterns) he couldn't afford to pay for the both of us...a place similar to Applebees..fuck, it might have been fucking Applebees...man I hate that place.  I mean I love it (I really do), but it's a scene of a lot of failed dating in my past...

Anyway, off topic (nothing unusual).  He couldn't pay for the both of us, but it's my fault. He definitely instigated a flirtation at the wedding, but I pursued it all the way. He couldn't have been that interested or invested. I don't know if he ever initiated dating before, but he certainly didn't with me. He treated me like nothing more than an object and I let him. I didn't even expect that he drive out to me. I drove an hour out to him.  This was definitely not the finest hour in my life and I don't mean JUST that drive.

We got together a handful of times and every time I decked myself out and dressed up and drove out to him and not one time was he willing to do that for me. There was also a string of men at that time that (when they were ready to dump me) called themselves an asshole.  One such day this guy said this to me. And of course, I got the "you're a crazy bitch" look when my response was,  "I've learned that if you are going to say you are an asshole, then you are probably right, so I'll take your word for it. I'm sure you're an asshole." That was the last time we saw each other.

I still held on for awhile with flimsy excuses to text him or contact him. I even attempted to communicate with his brother because I was mad and wanted to hurt him.  But mostly, I was very lost and not in a great place. 

I was also embarrassed because he knew my cousin and I felt so dumb about the situation and my own behavior. I do think I learned something valuable from that experience, but like many other similar lessons I learned at that time...I didn't really learn them until a few years ago.  Hindsight really is 20-20...

St. Patty's Day 2017 - Not My Drama

Another St. Patrick's Day, but yet this is not one that I have to worry about as far as drama on my part.  This year, I went out for a big event and was not the person drama centered around. Honestly, it's been a few years since the drama was me, but still always happy to see it's not me.

It was a fabulous night to be honest. I went out with my bestie from in town here. I have one local and one from Arizona.  This one is local.  We went out with her husband and met up with a bunch of other people.

We started out at a bar that one of my friends likes to call, HQ. We met some interesting characters dressed up in green and likely had been drunk since parade time.  So they were well ahead of most of us in alcohol consumption. There were, of course, those completely decked out in green. I chose to simply wear non green clothes and put in a pair of green earrings to avoid being pinched. (just in case someone wanted to pinch me). There were those that were just out to enjoy the night.  Those that were sober cabs and those that were drunk passengers.  My group fell somewhere in the middle.

After a few drinks at HQ, we headed down to the Legion for some karaoke. Conveniently, within walking distance. I'm getting buzzed up so I'm telling people that I know about my first book. I'm very excited about it, after all.

Around the third trip to the bathroom, a woman in the stall next to me calls over for toilet paper.  She mentions the town she is from and coincidentally it's the same town my fiance is from. We begin talking and she states she knows him and she has heard of me. I'm pretty pumped. When she finds out more about how we met, she excitedly babbles that this how she and her new boyfriend met. Her boyfriend is local, hence, why she was in town.

We come out together and she introduces me and tells him that I had met my fiance the same way they met. I believe he was already drunk at this point and he looks put off that she was introducing him to someone or that she told him how they met. I'm not sure which it was, but he didn't look happy at all.

I move on.  It was weird, but not show stopping. My friends sing karaoke and we have a couple of drinks and shots.  It's a fun night. Near the end, as we are waiting for the shuttle I bump into this woman again. She is with another woman and she is ranting about her boyfriend.  She sees me and sucks me into the conversation. Apparently, her boyfriend told her she was old and no one wanted her. It went on from there.  He was texting other women, according to her.  She wanted me to come with her so she could show me. I ask the woman she is with if they are together.  Nope, this woman knew her as well as I did. Gulp!

I'm joined by a couple of my friends at this time. One of them knows this woman's boyfriend. As we go out into the smoking section two women are bent over his body on the ground.  He fell and hit his head and was laying there, luckily awake.  It takes two men to finally get him up and into the shuttle bus. We decide that we will wait til the next pick up so we aren't on the bus with them.

Then the elderly driver returns, but parks in a different location. He comes up to me and states it will be awhile. The happy couple is still inside the sober bus because the woman didn't know his address and he wasn't coherent. Ugh!

We have to go, there is no more waiting.  She finally believes she knows the address and the driver loads up another batch of riders.  Drunk jerk boyfriend is laying on the front seat and his girlfriend proceeds to tell us everything bad. She wanted to hurt herself because of things he said, so we had to talk her down. I think I might have said 20 times to break up with him.

I told her no guy should talk to you that way.  She said he was great at first, and I said, and now he has shown you his true colors.  Time to move on.  According to her, he drank all the time on weekends and my friend that knew him, basically said that this wasn't uncommon behavior for him as far as drinking and treating his lady of the hour like crap.

It was a stark contrast to the first drunk guy we ran into at HQ. He was telling me and my bestie how hot we were and encouraging us to get with our men.  It was pretty hysterical, but his desire was to send the women home feeling great about themselves, so he could help out the men in town. And we ended the night with a boyfriend who decided it was his job to make his girlfriend feel like the most worthless piece of garbage.

I'm so very thankful for the wonderful fiance I was lucky enough to find. Who makes me feel beautiful, sexy, smart, and desired everyday in every way. I don't think it's an easy thing to find.  And I also think that when some people find it, they don't know they have it, and they let it go for the wrong reasons.

And I also learned why I don't get shit faced anymore.

Dating takes patience, sifting, and access to a background check...

Warning: online dating websites do NOT run background checks, so I highly recommend that those that are on said sites, run your own background checks and be prepared to then run (literally).  

Many sex offenders, regardless of broken rules, are on these sites. Maybe some of you have heard this story, but one such person I met, and dated, before he became a sex offender. Whew, dodged that bullet.

Not that it wasn’t an interesting experience to begin with. I should have realized what I was in for when we first met. This website requires that one of the two people talking to each other, pay in order for communication to happen. Unless you just want to lamely "wink" or "flirt" repeatedly.  What is the point of that anyway?  You can send a wink, but you are incapable of communicating more than that. Short conversation. It's the equivalent of "Hi" and that's all. No more can be said, without forking over some cash.

Anyhoo, Mr. Wonderful wasn’t paying for the membership on this particular website, I was. However, I wouldn't be able to know that because unless you both weren't paying, how would you know if it was your money that allowed you to communicate or theirs? 

This was pretty much par for the course as our “dating” relationship continued. Not only was he selfish with his money, but he was also selfish in…well you know.

Of course, I am a glutton for punishment or equally as desperate as the fire fighter. There are so many moments where I should have been done with him. 

The time he brought me fast food for dinner (the only time he paid) and by the time he got to my apartment he ate almost all of my fries...WTF, Dude?

The time I made dinner for his brother, roommate, and him with kitchen utensils that weren’t designed for anything beyond mac and cheese. And while I did that, he was texting other girls.  His brother was pissed off at him, as was his roommate. They yelled for him to pay attention to me and get off his phone (I realized it was girls later, obviously).  He just smirked and continued. He truly believed he was a skilled player.  Doesn't count when the girl is dumb...hello me at 30.  

Then there was the fact that most of our dates consisted of the constant watching of The Hangover and Hot Tub Time Machine…over and over and over.  We couldn’t ever go anywhere because he never had money and if we did, I had to pay.

On weekends when he would get paid, he would head up north to some night club.  This is where I began to see pictures of some girl he was hanging out with up there, on his Facebook. Maybe were were a perfect match cause he clearly was as stupid as me.

But this man was no catch. Crappy job, boring unless he was drinking, selfish, self-absorbed, rude and not that attractive, or bright.  He wasn’t unattractive, but he wasn’t a ladies man.  His brother, on the other hand was, and I think he aspired to be his like brother. But the part he didn't realize, his brother did treat the women well when he was with them. This guy thought he just had to show up.  (Insert eye roll here) 

When I finally decided to walk away?  Well, besides being tired of always paying, it was when I saw a picture of him and that girl from up north in what appeared to be a bed.  They were laying down, taking a selfie.  I basically dumped him on the phone, but he wanted to get together to "talk".  I said we can talk, but I wanted to go out and we weren't dating, that I wasn't changing my mind about. I was tired of sitting in the basement watching lame movies.  So he said he had coupons for a local pizza place.  Huh? I thought. He was gonna pay?  That was new.  (I know what you are thinking…don’t beat me to the punchline.)

Before we leave, we discuss the girl in the bed and he is trying to make moves on me.  Yuck!  Then he actually had the balls to say to me that the girl and him were laying in the bed because they were sleepy and nothing was going on. I just laughed and said, "Really?  Do I look that fucking dumb to you?"  He laughed because he knew he was caught. Of course, when I think about what I had already put up with, maybe it's fair if he thought I was that dumb.

We go out for food and we have a couple beers. We are having a great time and actually, great conversation.  I’m feeling generous, so I offer to pay for the beer.  He doesn’t respond with more than an unenthusiastic, "okay".  

We are getting ready to leave and we walk up to the register. I notice he makes no move to reach for his wallet, other than to grab the coupons from his pocket. "Okay, I can pay half the tab," I offer.  That is when I’m realize, before he even says it, he doesn’t have any money, at all. 

Such an asshole…and I mean me.  I start laughing, and said, when he gave me this I feel bad look, "Oh no, this is completely my fault.  I’ll pay.” And that was the last time we "dated", not saw each other, just dated. Though I don't fully count that as a date, I can't lie, had he paid that date I might have given him another chance. Based on what I'm about to tell you, I'm glad he stayed classy and only brought his coupons.

We would bump into each other every so often or he would reach out to me when things didn’t go well with another girl…I’m guessing.  His job situation never improved nor did his maturity. For some reason, and to this day I still have no idea what made me do this, I went online and did a background check on him.  Maybe it’s because I discovered the site and was inputting every guy I had ever dated, you know, just to see.  And that is when I see it.  A couple years after we had last dated, he was out there for some kind of sexual deviant charge.  Something regarding a minor who was mentally impaired.  I’m guessing drunk. It didn't sound like actual sex had occurred, but I don't know how to interpret those court documents.

He received 10 years on the registry and fines and probably had to check in with some kind of probation officer for the whole 10 years.

I then start to go back out to another free dating website, where I happened to get lucky and meet my wonderful fiancé.  But before I met him, I was on there and saw a tiny little picture at the top of my screen (where they show you a bunch of men or women, depending on your preference, that are currently online). I could swear it was him, but I chose to ignore it and hope he didn’t see me if it was him.  Literally, two minutes later he is texting my phone.  (I really should have changed my number). So, we start texting and of course, I’m an ass, I ask him, "What's new?  Anything new and exciting happening in your life?  No?  Are you sure???"  Liar Liar…let me introduce you to a fire fighter…he’ll help with those hot pants you surely are sporting.

That was the last I had spoken to him.  A year after that, I did another search, out of curiosity.  He was put in jail for a year.  Sounds like he lied about his charges…to who, I don’t know, but it landed him in jail.  I’m guessing it was regarding online dating and lying during some type of probation officer requested lie detector test, which may not be admissible in court, but it can definitely land your ass in jail when you're on probation.  At least I have been informed by another man that found me on a dating website, who also was a sex offender.  Sadly, (the ones I know about) there were three. Only two out of the three admitted to it and only one right away. So, watch out folks, as you might have guessed, people lie. 

You think it would have scared me away from online dating, but I think about those people that meet in bar, weddings, or etc. No profile to review or other pictures to look at and kind of see where they have been. You almost know less when you randomly meet someone in person versus online.

Sure the guy online can lie, but just as easily as the guy in the bar can too. And I have seen them do it several times...just as much as they do it online.

There was guy that tried to tell my friends and I that his wife had died and he was at the bar all alone. It was his first time out in ten years. But he had screwed up and told us that his wife had left behind two children with him. She died ten years prior, but somehow they had a five and seven year old...huh? And then when the bar closed, out of nowhere some guy popped up and asked this "lone wolf" if he was ready to go. See, even in person, they lie with ease and they tell whoppers of stories.

The Fire Fighter Doused in Desperation

Well I promised you a story about firefighters that stalk, so here it goes. That same day that I fell with the full beer (St. Patrick’s Day of 2007) and didn’t spill a drop, as I mentioned, I attracted the attention of anyone in the newly expanded bar due to all of the clapping.  I apparently drew the attention of a fire fighter along with the rest of them.

I had just broken up with my boyfriend of eight years the previous November.  I was kind of a mess, or at least I was in the beginning of becoming a mess. However, there are lines that even I won’t cross, no matter how desperate I might become. 

Anyway, I spilled the beer, received a standing ovation, (even though I was seated), and then shortly thereafter, we went outside to celebrate by tempting the fate of cancer with our cigarettes. (It makes as much sense as it sounds like, but there it is at the age twenty-eight).

As we stood there, smoking, an older looking man approached us and began talking to us. I wish I could remember exactly what I was thinking.  I had a few cocktails in me but I think I hovered between creeped out and interested. Interested because he was so interested in me; and creeped out because the feeling wasn’t mutual. That’s a broad spectrum, I realize. It had either begun to rain or it had become increasingly more windy, but we decided to leave. 

However, not before I had given him my phone number and he had shared his age of 39 with me. He left to get a drink or use the bathroom and we left. I thought he was a little old for me, eleven years difference and all, but I also didn’t plan on seeing him again.

We ran off to the next bar and I put my hoodie up (as if I could hide in that bright blue number). My phone began to ring like crazy and I ignored it, knowing it had to be the fire fighter. I became paranoid that he was following us. I also couldn’t be sure if that fear was from too many drinks or a real fear of someone that scared me for one reason or another. I can be melodramatic from time to time, after all.

We went into another bar, and quite honestly, the events of the rest of the day are a blur. I believe it went on all night, and my bestie and I might have even gotten into a fight, later in the evening, right before ending up at a diner for food. But man, eleven years ago is a very long time.

So, after that night, I completely forgot about the fire fighter, I can’t believe I even remember his name, which I will keep to myself.  I think I remember his name. Anyhoo, he began to blow up my phone immediately the next day or the day after. He claimed he was worried about whether I got home safely. (His excuse for calling me three million times) He clearly did not forget about me.  I thought, okay, I’m sober, I can give this person a chance. I don’t need to run away because I miss my ex or whatever preconceived notions I had of dating someone who is older.

Dating someone who is older always creeps me out like I’m dating an older relative, even if it’s only ten years, it feels weird to me.  Apparently, dating someone who is younger (9 years to be exact and the father of my child) that’s just fine. Well, we aren’t together anymore, so I guess it’s not just fine. Anyway, I’m getting off topic…

I decide to accept his offer for a date. I don’t even really remember the details of how he asked or where we went, though I’m thinking it was Applebees.  Anyway, on our date, (our first date) I find out that he was not thirty-nine, after he kept changing his age, we settled on forty-three, I think. Liar Liar pants on fire…thank God he worked for the fire department.

I let it go, once again. Someday I’ll share a story of when I was nineteen and you’ll see I have a pattern of ignoring red flags…ugh!

Anyway, I let it go and as I think back, we may have only had one or two dates. I know I was bothered because he moved from the east coast to Minnesota, leaving his child behind to be a fire fighter here.  It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me and I felt it said a lot about who he was. Then there were these goofy creepy faces he would make, that nauseated me. And also, because he was a fire fighter I think he believed he could do or act however, and he would still be considered sexy because of his job.  I’m thinking, are you wearing the uniform now?  No? Okay, not sexy right at this moment.  Kind of harsh, I realize that, but I was twenty – eight.  Another pattern you will come to see, I tended to be fairly harsh back in my heyday or is it “hay” day…I make myself giggle.

The straw (speaking of hay) that broke the camel’s back in this situation, was when he wanted me to meet his entire family on the second or third date.  I was about to leave for Vegas and that felt a tad serious for me, at that point.

I told him that I didn’t know if I was ready for that level of commitment, I believed I was saying it in a way that meant we could continue to see each other and see how it goes, but immediately he was angry and hung up.

During my formative years, I learned pretty quick who the low self-esteem guys were when that was the reaction I would get.  Not getting their way, equating to hating you forever and hanging up on you.

A few weeks later, I was reconsidering my decision and I sent him a text to test out the waters. I got back a hateful, angry text that made no sense to me. So I replied with, “Wow! I was gonna see if maybe I reacted to harshly or didn’t give this a chance, but I can see I made the right choice.” I got back some weak excuse of him believing I was someone else…I wasn’t buying it.  But that reaction was all I really needed to know. It would have been foolish of me to get involved with someone that angry and childish.

In retelling this story, stalker may be harsh (shocking, I know), hence the title.

St. Patrick's Day - Step with Caution

It’s almost St. Patty’s day here in the United States.  In addition, I’m sitting in St. Paul, where this is as close to the Irish as we can get, short of going to Ireland. (At least that’s what I choose to believe because I don’t really know any better or more) I really wonder what the celebration is like in Ireland. I’m not big on crowds, so I’d probably just want pictures or videos, but I think it would still be cool to see.

I think back on the St. Patrick’s Days of my youth. I’ve never been big on crowds or “young” places, even when I was young. In fact, my best friend would often roll her eyes at me when she would ask me what I was wearing when planning to go out (cause you have to coordinate with your girlfriends, I guess) and my response was always, or generally, flannel and jeans.  Like I gave a crap.

Anyhoo, there was a time or two when I allowed myself to be dragged out to downtown during this most holy of drinking days.  I even took a day off from work for the adventure on the most memorable one. My step dad drove me down to St. Paul, so I could leave my car at their place and take a cab back when I was done. I met my best friend and for the most part, it went okay.  I was dressier than usual.  A pretty, blue zip up hoodie and jeans…no flannel and no green.  (I don’t recall being pinched once. I should be either relieved or insulted).

We stopped at our favorite place. A bar we frequented every Thursday with my bestie’s family. Unbeknownst to me, they had recently expanded the place. I had maybe had a couple of drinks at that point and I had a full beer in my hands.  (Did I mention I always wear high heels?) I see the new addition of the bar and excitedly we head over to check it out. It really was my fault for not looking down when walking to the other side of the room because as I crossed into the new are, I lose my footing and I plunge to the earth.

I sit there (I landed square on my butt), drink in hand, looking bewildered. How on earth did this happen?  That’s when I see the step that has yellow caution tape on it. Useful, on the ground. I mean it’s a bar, you need better signage for drunk people, I think.

My thoughts of warning labels and embarrassment are stifled when I notice that people are cheering and clapping. I’m confused and hurt.  Are they teasing me because I fell? Not polite, if you ask me.

I stand up, with some help from my friend and I ask one of the applauders, “Why are you guys clapping?” I wonder if I looked angry at that point. He looks at me surprised, points at my hand, and says, “Cause, you didn’t spill your drink!”

I play back all the events in my mind and realize, huh, I had a glass of beer, not a bottle, and it was literally full.  Not one drop had come out of said glass and I landed square on my butt.  To this day, over 10 years later, I’m still not sure how I managed to accomplish that feat.

Now at this age, (I’m pretty sure I mentioned it in yesterday’s post and it actually hurt a little to type it out), I look at what I have planned on this green day and it really (for the most part) includes avoiding the bars at all costs. It’s not the age because I have friends my age that want to go out.  I’m just reverting to not wanting to be in big crowds and I’m old enough not to care if I say no to my friends.

And I’m not single, so I’m not looking for man meat…so why not stay home in the comfort of my own home? Safe from scores of people and steps I won’t see and stalker fire fighters…but that story I’ll save for another day this week before the holiday has passed us by.

What did you want to be when you grew up?

I don't know about you, but as a child I pictured my life to be pretty spectacular when I grew up.  I would have a job that paid well, a husband, and a nice house. There really was no deep thought beyond those things.  I didn't think about what my husband would be like, what it was like having or raising children, (Granted, after my mother told me the horror story of how you made a baby, I wanted nothing to do with that.) but jobs, that, I did think about.

I wanted to be a lawyer or a writer. That was the dream.  After high school, I didn't think the legal profession would happen, as I threw my education down the drain after my sophomore year. Angst y teenage crap. 

I eventually began college at the age of twenty-two, and found myself pursuing a paralegal career. I felt a little disenfranchised when I realized how dull it truly was. I think for the right person it can be a very exciting career, but for me, it wasn't enough to keep me interested. That or I simply watched too much Law & Order and quickly learned that isn't really how it works.  Especially, if you work in Patent Law and not Criminal Law.

The other dream of writing I began to turn to. (on the side, as a hobby, of course) I had always written stories as long as I could remember. At least, started them.  I even had a poem published in some obscure poetry publication at the age of fourteen. But in 2010, I began a journey to tell a story, loosely based on my best friend, who was dealing with an abusive relationship. I wrote it off and on through out the years, and even began posting pieces of it on this very blog. It was in a very raw state of writing. I also worked full time and attended college (attempting to earn a master's degree) at this time, as well.  Once my daughter turned two, that was all over with. Can't really do online classes in the evening when a cutie pie wants your love and affection.

A part time job also had come along at some point in order for me to supplement my income. The book was pushed off even more. During this seven year process of writing my debut novel for publishing, the book evolved and became it's own creature, far removed from where it began. I'm proud of what I've accomplished and hope that I can do more.  I just hope that the next one does NOT take seven years.

Now realizing both dreams, whether they came to fruition or not, I look at the other pieces of my life. The husband. I was thirty-seven when I finally met the right guy to marry. My match. It's never what you picture it will be, but hopefully it's better.  In my case, I couldn't have imagined better for a fiance. And children. I obviously got over the how you made babies and MUCH MUCH MUCH later got over where they come out of and had a child. Mostly, I got over the idea of where they come out of when I got pregnant. Just had to grin and bear it, literally.  Now I have my most wonderful daughter and fiance and finally became a writer. It may never be my full time job or pay the bills, but I love doing it and will continue to do it.

I had to overcome many obstacles, including dealing with my own self loathing to get here, but here I am, and I wouldn't trade in any of those moments because it could mean that I wouldn't end up exactly where I am today.