Shoes and Men

Last night I was out with a friend and an interesting thought occurred to me.  Dating is a lot like shoe shopping. You leave home with a particular style or designer in mind and you run around store to store hoping to find something that catches your eye. You then have to see if they’re comfortable (enough) and how easily can you integrate them into your existing wardrobe (life).

Maybe it’s not about kissing frogs until you find your prince. Maybe it’s more like trying on different shoes until you find the pair that makes you feel like a princess. Keeping in mind that men are so much like shoes, that you usually get what you pay for. Or better put, what flavor of mediocrity you are willing to accept.

Let's take a lesson from those off-label shoes that looked really cute in the store, but hurt really bad every time you wore them or the strap broke at the most inopportune time or the colors that bled on your feet. (wow, that was a mouth full)

Maybe discount rack boyfriends are in the discount bin for a reason; maybe they are slightly irregular or left behind because they just weren't worth comprising over.

Change Will Do You Good

At least 3x a week I find myself explaining to people my decision to go back to school. It’s not the fact that I’m going to school that I think perplexes them; I think it’s my lofty educational goals and the lack of a husband. This is even more so true, for people that *think* they know me. “Well, weren’t you going to school for nursing”, and “how are you going to do that as a single parent” they ask with a confused expression. My reply, is always the same, “I was, but I realized that nursing wouldn’t make me happy. It was shooting one rung lower than where I really wanted to be. I’m going to do it, because I want it bad enough.”
That reply bothers most; I hate to admit that changing paths does make me look a bit flaky. However, I’m quite happy that I figured it out before I was anymore invested into a nursing program. (Not, that I don’t like Nurse Practitioners, because I absolutely do - but it’s not what I grew up aspiring to be.) And you know what, it sucks that I didn’t figure this out until my marriage was on it’s last leg but I don’t think I would have had the courage to try if my marriage didn’t fail. Something about my ex-husband’s perception of me and my role in this family gave me the final boost of oomph I needed to really decide that it’s my life and bump what everyone else thinks I need to be doing with it.

Yeah, it sucks that I’m doing this solo… but to be quite honest I feel more supported than I have in years. This journey isn’t something I could have even attempted 2 or even 5 years ago, because I had too much baggage in tow. So I’ll deal with the fact that I never have enough time, my shopping bug never seems satisfied and my kids can’t participate in every sport known to man. In the end, I think my sons will have more respect for their mother and what she set out to accomplish; my real friends will be still be there in the middle of the night to coach me up when it feels too hard to keep going; and whomever decides that he wants to share my life will understand that just because you brought a plate doesn’t mean you get a seat at the table.

Flashing Lights

I went out with this guy a few times, he’s really a nice guy. One of those nice guys that you’re likely to label “friend”. You know the guy I’m talking about. This man has two degrees, a good job, owns his home and professes to really like me. So why did he give me a key-chain with my name on it? Did I mention that it flashes my name, and it’s solar powered? I don’t ever remember declaring my love for keychains. In fact, I don’t even have any.

So, I’m wondering when did the key-chain become a token of affection.

P.S. - Did I mention it flashes "Lisa"? Just in case I forget my name, I guess.

 

Update 10/31/2010: Thanks for all the emails on this post :) I loved the Facebook comments too! 

I gave him an opportunity to explain the *craptastic* keychain - the explanation was supposed to be endearing but came off weak. I still prefer my gifts to come in boxes from the jeweler or Neiman Marcus.

Independent Woman or Giving Away The Milk For Free?

I am so sick & tired of rap music, every time I turn on the radio there is some stupid song on about independent women. Now, my issue isn't with independent women, I consider myself one, in fact. However, these songs are all about trying to convince young women that they shouldn't expect a man to do or provide anything for them. REALLY? REALLY? Second verse, I love a woman that can provide her own and doesn't need me to. REALLY? Third verse, I love a woman who knows how to please her man and doesn't hesitate to go down. (In my Little John Voice: WHAT!!??!?!)

What kind of malarkey is this about? Seriously? I want to know. When did it stop being a man's job to provide for his woman?  Aren't they the traditional providers? Anyone that's been married and filed joint taxes...  will attest to the fact EVEN if a woman makes more than her husband his names goes first. Because he's supposed to be making the dough and bringing home the bacon - a traditional head of household.

Now, I'm not saying that a woman should expect that every guy she's dating she be putting fistfuls of cash in her hand if she spreads her legs. There is a difference between prostitution and maintenance. If you expect your chick to pick up the phone when you call, rearrange her schedule to see you, console you after a long day, support you in your (whatever activity) AND give you a lil sugar on top-- that's YOUR woman and it then becomes your responsibility to keep her in the way in which you'd like to see her.

So don't start whining about how you want a woman that is intelligent, has a good job, can cook, keeps house, gets her hair & nails done, looks like she stepped off a runway, and still has time to go get waxed cause she knows you like a landing strip -- you better be helping maintain all of that ish.

Real independent women understand what personal responsibility means and owns up to it. They do not allow any personal relationship to determine their level of self-confidence or ability to provide stability in HER life.  The rest of you ladies out there who are letting dudes convince you that since you make good money, and it's not like "ya'll getting married" they don't have to do anything for you --- you my friends are just giving the milk away... and as gran said, "who is going to buy a cow when they can get the milk for free".

So if you are out there dating and all you are getting is dinner and sex... Maybe it's time to reevaluate that. Cause sweetheart you can afford to buy your own dinner and sexual partners are a dime a dozen.

ten things that suck about having more than 1 kid

1. You always have a queue viaing for your attention.
2. Mornings start to remind you of an assembly line.
3. You are constantly trying to convince your kids there is enough room on your lap.
4. There is never enough room on the refrigerator and you have to convince people that there is no hierarchy- you just want to make sure the door can open and close.
5. You've convinced yourself more than once that you don't need to buy new jeans until you can fit into size ____.
6. You've convinced yourself more than once that no one can tell you're wearing maternity clothes, even though you're not pregnant.
7. You have to decide which of your kid's is going to get _______ for $xxx.xx and the others can't.
8. You have to explain to your kids, that life isn't fair so they shouldn't expect you to treat them (i.e. like them) the same.
9. Driving from baseball... to soccer... to swimming and getting home at 7:30- 8:00p and you still have to feed them, bathe them, and make them do homework.
10. Immediately after #9 you have to clean up after them and you don't get to go to sleep unless you fall asleep putting one to sleep.

Clean toilets help me write

It's hard to keep focus and study... and write "statement of purpose" essays when your bathroom smells like pee. Like Yankee Stadium public restroom pee. I know what you're thinking "eww... does this chick ever clean her bathrooms?" Let's just get one thing straight- I have three sons - three boys with bad aim and quite possibly ADD. God-forbid anyone even says anything remotely interesting while they are tinkling - their ears, head, and pee follow the direction of the distraction. (note to reader: never stand within 3 feet of a little boy peeing --- wet leg not cool)

That being said, my bathrooms need to be cleaned a minimum of two - three times a day. Otherwise I start feeling like I need a hot dog and a box of cracker jacks every time I pass an open bathroom door.

So, when I sit down in front my laptop with all the intent in the world to finish that essay or spend 30 minutes reviewing notes, practice problems - whatever- the first thing that comes to mind is "I should be cleaning toilets right now".

Today I was actually able to get some work done because the bathrooms smell like linen & sky, lol. You wouldn't believe the productivity increase from a clean bathroom. I finished all of the pending essays I had to write, wrote personnel action letter for a friend of mine, and even managed to work out my *course schedule for spring. (As in the classes I want to take as opposed to actually get to take once registration opens.)

**edited to note: No, I do not write my essays in the bathroom.  I just happen to be a little neurotic.

Was it worth paying a babysitter?

When I was 20, a good date wasn't hard to define, as long as a good time was had by all it was a good date. Fast forward eleven years and I have to tell you, my standards have definitely gone up quite a few notches. I'd like to think that it is just a culmination of all of my life experiences that have allowed me to discern men better than I did ten years ago but it's not. (I'm still just as bad at weeding out the good from the bad.)  What changed was the need for a babysitter! To even think about going out on a date costs money. An average date runs about $70 just in babysitting fees. So if someone is taking me out, I better be wooed and dazzled. Every minute that he spends rambling on about how his boss just doesn't get the work that he's doing costs money, about $0.17 each minute to be exact. It's not that I don't care about the work that my date does, because I'm sure it's very interesting to him. But is it worth $10 to listen to him go on about the variation of QPS reports for an hour?

So in 2010, the new definition of a good date: Was it worth paying the babysitter? It's a very straight forward question, easy to answer. And, I'm sorry to have to inform you, that if the answer was no, a second date is just out of the question. Unless, of course he wants to cover the expense of a babysitter.