Tuesday, January 24, 2012

One Step Closer

There was a point in time when I thought I might like to work in the family business.  Instead, I decided to join a tennis league.  Now, my ex's new wife has her own office right next to my ex, (Well, if I would have known I would have my own office...) and I feel totally at ease knowing she is watching over our finances and my personal well being.  Nothing to worry about there.

Since that avenue is now closed to me (you snooze you lose,) I am continuing my hunt for the perfect career.  From what I have read there is a definite process one needs to follow in seeking employment. I spend a lot of time on GOOGLE researching the step by step approach to finding a job.  It appears the next step would be to actually apply for one, but I'm not there yet.  This is going to require more research and a lot of careful thought.  This process can not be rushed.

One article suggests writing down your strengths and weaknesses and going from there.  Here is what I have come up with so far.

1.  Reliable transportation
2.  Good teeth
3.  Healthy appetite
4.  Don't drink a lot of soda
5.  Have set new records on Solitaire

1.  Cannot commit to meeting deadlines
2.  Cannot commit to meeting goals
3.  Cannot commit to meeting expectations
4.  Get extremely tired after lunch
5.  People bug me

Okay.  One step closer to finding my new career!  The next step will have to wait, because I just ate lunch, and you know what that means.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Let's Do This Thing!

Exciting news!  With the encouragement of my college professor, and lack of anything else to do, I have decided to write a book.  I am working on a compilation of online dating stories.  I will offer bad date stories, (such as you have seen here, ) good date stories, and dates that have led to long term relationships and marriages.  I will of course include data from psychologists that I hope will back up my belief that online dating works.

I have been so honored to see that over 5,000 people read my blog.  You know who you are!  If you have a story to share with me or know someone who does, please contact me at amyk@tampabay.rr.com
No names will be used, don't worry, I mean I own my bad dates, but that's just me.  I like the world to know how I have suffered.

For all who contribute, after publication the Martinis are on me!!  Help a girl out.


Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Cat's Out of the Bag

 Being a divorced, 50ish woman, you have to be super careful not to appear lonely or weird, when dating.  There are some things that men find appealing, and other things we need to stay away from.  For instance, taking your black lab running in the park, or joining a wine tasting club is definitely cool.  Going out and buying, let's say a ferret, probably won't go over so well, it may sound eclectic and fun, but trust me, it's weird. Showing him pictures of your peekapoo, Mitzi dressed in a rain coat, not so cool, and the one big red flag that men run from?  Cats.  This is why I hesitate to publish this post.

 Awhile back, my son said to me in passing, "Hey mom, this is weird but I thought I saw H carrying a cage to her room."  "Hmmm," I thought, "That IS weird."  When I went to investigate I found a black kitten with emerald green eyes, lying on her bed.
"What is this?" I asked.  She looked at me, eyes squinted,  like,  "What is what?" but answered,  "A kitten."
"Why is it here?"
"I wanted one."
Ohhh, okay, got it.
"But you didn't ask, and I hate cats.  They have no personality and their pee stinks."
"Well, I already have a litter box and I will keep him in my room. You won't even see him."
It really was adorable to watch.  She took "Jet" with her everywhere, true to her word, he stayed in her room and they were inseprable.  For three days.  Then a friend invited her to a beach house in Clearwater for a few days and she was out the door. 
"What about Jet?" I yelled as she ran out the door.
"He's fine, I left him enough food and water  till I get back.!"

That was one year ago.  H has since acquired a boxer puppy, named Cassius Clay, and has been asked by me to go live with her dad (HA! Take that Giselle! Sooo sorry about that new berber carpeting,) after he toilet papered the inside of  my house and continues to pee right next to my pool.  Rudy, our ten year old mastiff, who smells like total ass, btw, was beside himself when Cas planted himself down on Rudy's bed as if to say "Yeah this is super comfortable.  I think I'll sleep here too."  It would be like my ex bringing Giselle home and her saying "Move over."

That being said, the now grown up cat, Jet is the center of my universe.  My life revolves around making sure he does not get out of the screened porch.  I can't leave town because my kids don't feed him right.  I have to let him out at 4 am and stay awake until 4:30 to let him back in...he likes to do his business at this time.  I don't know if I am replaying an old scenario, but if I accidentally open the front door wide enough, he runs like the wind, only to be grabbed by the tail and pulled back in, with me promising to be more attentive to his needs if he promises to stay.

I am careful not to mention Jetty when out at parties.  While people may think I am actually interested in what they are saying (chances are slim,) based on my focused look and deep thought, actually I am trying to remember if I closed the screen door tight.   Don't worry though, I think I have a handle on it.  I realize that between Jet and my many piles of People Magazines, unopened bank statements and unread Sunday papers, I am just one decaying carcass away from having my own show.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Too Cool for School

During my divorce and days on end with Real Housewives (how I love Jill Z and Countess D, ) and Hoarders, it became clear to me that I really had to do something.  What to do...what to do...I tried volunteer work.  I volunteered at a local television station taking calls for the "Problem Solver." People would call in with complaints about local businesses in hopes of getting the "Problem Solver" to give them a hand. You would listen to the person, take down all their information and hand it in.    The goal was to get it to the on air personality and onto the news.  The other volunteers took their work very seriously and seemed to receive calls dealing with important issues.  Here is what I got:
"Hello this is XYZ News Problem Solver, how may I assist you today?"
"Uh yeah, I got the cable company out today, cos my tv wasn't working, and now the guy is out there bare ass naked in my bushes."
"I'm sorry, are you saying that the cable worker is naked in your bushes?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm saying and you need to get someone out here right now to get him out."
"Just give me your name and phone number and I will have someone contact you as soon as possible."
"Well you better hurry.  I want him outta there before my wife gets home from work."
 Needless to say I am in my cubicle laughing my ass off and that didn't really sit well with my fellow volunteers. Between that and me sitting at  the news desk between calls, I didn't last too long there.

It was clear that I needed something to do, a reason to get up in the morning, something to get my brain in gear.  My friends would say "Do something you love, " and I tried to remember what that might be.  Then it came to me,  College!  I loved college for those 2 years I went.  The frat parties, late night study sessions with delivery pizza,  and the smell of sex and pot wafting down the dorm hallways.   Of course, I haven't been able to drink rum since that one Halloween dorm party, when I missed curfew and spent the night in the parking lot dressed as a playboy bunny, but let's leave that alone, I don't remember it all anyway.

 I chose a private University, about 30 minutes from my house,  near alot of good night life where I figured the other kids and I would be hanging out after classes.  Due to certain circumstances, (my advancing age and my barely there GPA,) I was advised that I would have to retake freshman English.  Okay, sounds good, I should breeze right through, it couldn't have changed that much in 30 years.
In preparation for my first class I went out and purchased what I felt to be the biggest necessity for settling into college life: skinny jeans.  I paired it up with a graphic T, and some super cool wedged heels and felt I was really ready to jump into academics.

 I was excited on the first day of class.  As I wandered the halls of my new found academia, I felt energized and purposeful.   I found my classroom, and stopped in front of the door that would lead me to great beginnings.  I entered the room, and saw about twelve 18 year old freshmen, conversing in a language that appeared foreign:
"So I was like Oh My God, DUDE, you are not putting the bed there, no way.  And my roommate was like, Yes I am, and I was like, No dude, No Way."
"Dude, Oh My God, your roommate sounds like such a jerk.  Seriously."
"I know. Right?  Like seriously?  I was like get over yourself.  Seriously."

 All conversation, came to a screeching halt when I entered the room, and I knew I had made the right wardrobe choice.  It took me a minute to realize the kids thought I was the professor.  I took a seat in the front row and realized something else.  Skinny jeans, slide half way down your butt when you sit down, and your jockey underwear somehow settles in right beneath your boobs.  It apparently is not a good look from behind, and it earned me the name of "Granny Panties' for the semester.

Although I really enjoyed my time back in college, it sure was different from my first time around.  It's hard to concentrate on how to write a proper essay,  when getting texts from your daughter saying "We're starving plz bring us home food."  "We wantsubway"  "J says get his usual, not toasted this time"
"What time u home?  We starving"  "Mom comeon,"  When class is over and the other kids are heading over to Frankie's for hotdogs and beer, I am racing to Subway to feed my starving children.  Standing on line, I get a text, "Nvrmnd, dad taking us out."
DUDE-Seriously?  Like, get over yourself.



Monday, January 2, 2012

He's Got it Maid

OMG, I just read that Maria Shriver is reconsidering her divorce to Arnold, aka, LUNKHEAD, Schwarzenegger. Are you serious? Apparantly he has been wooing her with gifts and is back to wearing his wedding ring. I'm sure that makes her feel better. I guess he didn't wear it around the family maid that he impregnated who was taking care of his wife's laundry and cooking for his kids. He sure had Mildred fooled!

I just need to sit down with Maria for a minute. I have to ask her "Why would you take him back? You're part Kennedy for God's sakes? Your uncles, cousins, or stepbrothers, whatever the relationship is, changed the course of history. You're on TV! You're rich! You have great hair. You have those big teeth and weird sort of Dudley Dooright jaw that most women would kill for, so WTF?"

I understand that she is Catholic and they have this thing against divorce. Um, just wondering, is there anything written in the bible about what you should do if your husband screws your maid-probably in your own fucking house, gets her pregnant, let's her raise a child by herself in an icky house and just fails to mention that you two gals have sons the same age? File for divorce? Seriously Maria, you are so dramatic. Get over yourself.

Needless to say this strikes a cord with me, and many others I'm sure. Look at Hillary Clinton whose husband's wax museum exhibit includes a blue dress with a sperm stain on it. Then her top aide, Huma Abedin, finds out her husband Anthony Weiner (haaaaa, sorry I can't see that name without laughing,) is texting and sexting pictures of his penis all over the place. At this time, there is no plan for divorce. Huma, seriously, you are a top aide to Hillary and were profiled in Vogue Magazine in 2007, you don't have to put up with this crap!

One thing I will say, these women handled themselves with class and dignity. I have the utmost respect for them. I don't think they drove around town with Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats," blaring from open car windows looking for their husband's car, like SOME women did.

I do believe that divorce is a last resort. Even after I found out about Giselle, I wanted to work things out. Fortunately, unlike these women, the whole world did not know what I knew, only a few close friends and the guy who runs the mail store in my neighborhood, who was kind enough to alert me to her continuing presence. My ex played both sides of the fence for quite awhile, disappearing here and there, returning, somtimes days later to my relief and rage. Finally I knew, I had enough. I have daughters, what was I teaching them? Hang on at any cost to make sure your mortgage gets paid and your tennis club membership doesn't go away? Okay, yes I miss it, but I can usually get a court at the Y if I call two days in advance and bring my own balls.

Anyway, I guess it doesn't matter how rich or famous you are, when your spouse commits infidelity, the decision has to be made, should I stay or should I go? What's right for one, may not be right for another. As far as Maria and Arnold go, his famous "I'll be back" has a whole new meaning now.