Stupid Girl

I recently listened to an acquaintance get chastised for not posting enough on his blog.  I gotta admit it's kind of scary to post online.  I have a tough enough time pulling together a decently clean and matching outfit for the work day, much less barfing up my last week and stringing enough congruency through it to create a cohesive timeline/semblance of sanity so entertain the unlucky soul who may tread across my blog.

I currently have no idea how people find these postings.  Two people know I was considering blogging, but I have yet to tell anyone I actually tarted.  My ex-husband taught me the basics of web design, HTML, and how to keep everything running on an over-sized blade server that made every room it was placed in 400 degrees.  Then told me I was too stupid to use it.  I later blew up his online efforts soliciting extramarital sex. (oopsie!)

Yeah for the "stupid" girl!  Just a note, don't fuck with stupid girls.  They can make your life difficult, they can make your divorce difficult, they can make getting the shit you were asked to stop by and pick away for 6 weeks exceedingly difficult.  Especially if said stupid girl had to pack it up and move it across the city.  Stupid girls aren't that stupid.  Most of the ones I know, are surprisingly intelligent, they just don't always know how smart they are.     

But I digress...
Through work I am slowly learning html, and the glories of a paperless jobsite.  I got the basics.  I don't always remember to post, in fact sometimes I think twice in one week sounds excessive.  A friend of mine posts everything she thinks, eats, etc to her Facebook, Twitter, IM, and other electronica.  I still use sticky notes and a paper calendar, with colored pens to denote different activities. (Hey!  It's pretty!)  I was recently introduced (against my better judgement) to Instagram.  By a 13 year old.  My Gen-X side says to avoid all this crap, just hide the key to the kingdom under the doormat and pretend Mtv is still cool.  Like Nina Blackwood and Martha Quinn cool, before Remote Control first aired.  I use it, to post shots of sunsets and flowers.    

So, the congruency and cohesiveness is starting to fade.  The tangents are appearing on the horizon, which means I should wrap it up.  I gotta go find something to wear tomorrow. 


love, 
1/2


 

It's dangerous to go alone! Take this.

 
I have friends who call themselves survivalists.  Other who call themselves preppers.  I am neither of these.  I would like to be ready for a cataclysm, or even a bad hair day, but...  I'm pretty much not.

Currently my fridge is empty.  Like Mother Hubbard empty.  There is a package of Craisins with maybe a handful in it, some mayo, a green pepper, and the standard necessity: a box of baking soda.  It isn't that I don't like to eat.  I live to eat.  As I've alluded... I ain't no size 5.  My freezer isn't much better.  Half a loaf of bread, a tray of old ice, a beer that miraculously hasn't exploded, and Otter Pops.  I love me some Otter Pops. 

My reason?  I hate going to the grocery store.
I don't like going there.  There are too many people and I am really bad at finding "the deals".  My friends who coupon tell tales of "the deals".  To me, it's like being Link trying to save Hyrule.  My Princess Zelda is not attainable through doubling.

Sadly, I do not have the Spirit of the Hero. 

My fridge is also a good barometer of my mental state.  The busier my brain gets the less likely I am to take the time to notice there is nothing for dinner tomorrow.  This wasn't always the case.  I used to have the staples at the ready, the basics for lunches were often bagged and ready a few days in advance.  The plan was to pick a few recipes each week and buy what I need.  The plan was to then go home and do my cooking on the weekends, because my weekday evenings are too busy.  The plan was to do one dish on Saturday and one on Sunday and divvy them up to last the week.  Sometimes I could even get a third made!

Then the dark side intervenes - "But Half!  You kayak on Saturdays!  You get to do all your fun projects on Saturdays!  You can't expect your sunburned and tired, self to then whip up a casserole.  Order a pizza, it is easier!"  Sometimes the dark side gets even worse.  "To hell with ordering a pizza, just eat Vegemite on toast! In 3 minutes you get carbs, protein, and knock out your taste buds for 12 hours!"

So what happens?  Often the veggies I do buy go bad, or I bring them to work and spend the day begrudgingly trying to consume what's left in the bag, or convince others that these carrots are really theirs.  I purchase way too many prepackaged meals.  My spatulas get dusty.  Lately, I've been OK with this, because honestly, right now,  I'd rather spend time with friends or at the gym.  When I'm finally feeling gutsy, I slip into the store at 9 at night, wandering the aisles with the underage guys who are trying to buy beer for the Party of the Year.  I don't have the whole life balance thing going, and there will be no wishing on the Triforce yet, but I'll get there. 

love,
1/2

Skype, dragons, and rejection

I gotta say, this whole dating shit is pretty intimidating, and I feel very out of the loop.  While I use Skype regularly for work and talking with out of town family members, I wasn't expecting it to also be a part of the dating scene.

I'm not ready for someone I've never met to see possibly what is inside of my house. I have my computer set up in my studio.  One of my cats loves to sit on the back of my chair.  You can see my paintings and family pictures on the walls... and probably my bike and kayak paddle in the hallway, depending on how much energy I had to put things away.  That's a lot of semi-private info I don't know if I want them having.  They also have the opportunity to get a good look at me before the "first date".  Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I'd rather email and text and get to know the person before I judge them on their looks.   

What worries me most is rejection.  Yeah, I know we've all been there.  But I'm short and pudgy.  While I've lost almost 25 pounds in the last few months due to some serious ass-kicking by a hired trainer and a noticeable lack of beer in my life, they don't know that.  And probably don't care. I still have at least 30 pounds to go.  I'm a nerd, and could use a good wardrobe makeover.  I like the SyFy Channel, really dig Wil Wheaton's new show, and would kill for an Arc Reactor t-shirt and Motley Crue tickets come November.

Most guys that I've met online in the past are pretty superficial, and I'm really afraid that I won't get a chance, because I'm not a size 3, or 7... or 10.  At the same time, I know I sometimes put up walls to prevent them from getting too close.  I bike and kayak with several nice, single guys, but prefer to spend the time cracking jokes and avoiding personal topics.  Humor - it is my dragon protected moat to thwart the potential white knight. 

So my current question. I know that not everyone is superficial, there are some genuinely nice people out there.  Is it worth the risk, or should I continue to let my dragon act as bouncer?

love,
1/2

Hey - what the hell are you doing?

Yeah, this is my first post.  It should have gone live yesterday, but I wimped out on hitting submit.  I agree, it needs definite refinement.  But I'll get that going as soon as I can figure everything out. 

I'm a petite divorcee, living in the "Inland Empire", as locals call it.  It is the largest area I've ever lived in.  I never planned on calling the Inland Northwest a home.  Growing up, once a year, we came to blow our babysitting savings at Norstroms, and swim in a pool that was actually inside a hotel, that had a elevator.   Honestly, it never felt like home. 

So what got me to come back?

Love.  Head over heels type love.  He proposed and I was filled with images of white picket fences, wine-tasting parties, tulips, and happiness.  The reality?  I was chastised from the words "I do."  Abused, admonished, and eventually left to rot.  But I pulled through.

More about that later, this post is about today.  Butte tough, I am.  Look it up, I don't know how to link it yet.   I'm getting my groove on, and finding new things to celebrate.  I still don't feel like I belong here, and that is the basis of this blog.  Fitting in.  I'm very single in a city that prides itself on being matched up.  I am childless in a city that proclaims to be all pro-child.  I have a 12.5 foot kayak in an area that boldly supports 9 foot whitewater adventurists. 

So for today, this is it.  Not my best intro, certainly not my funniest.  But I promise to give you more, just hang on.   

love,
1/2