85 Days...

Until I leave for China. Yippee!!!

Mary Madeleine and Her Presents

Lots to Be Thankful for in '07

It will be different not having "Grandpa Ed" around this year, but I'm sure we'll all feel his presence. We all miss him.

I still feel very blessed that my family will all be together, and that no one is sick or overseas or suffering in any way. I am very thankful for that.

I am thankful that my brother talked me into taking in Kelly. I truly feel that she and I saved one another, and I'm so happy she is back to her energetic self. I never thought I would love a pet this much, or that she would mean so much to me. We are two peas in a pod.

I am thankful for my friends, and the new ones I have made. No woman is a failure if she has friends.

I am thankful for my home, with the old furnace and drafty windows. It might not be perfect, but I will always make it the best and most welcoming home I can.

I am thankful that I am and always will be ok on my own. I can take care of myself, and I will never fear being alone.

I am thankful that I am content, and hopefully that will continue into 2008!

Happy B-day Ben!

I hosted a birthday party for my nephew, Ben, on Dec. 9th. He turned two!

You're Fat, You're Ugly, and I Just Don't Like You

I would love it, absolutely love it if a guy would actually say this to me.
I mean, I probably wouldn't love it, because no one wants to be called fat and ugly. And I don't really think I'm fat and ugly. I got some thickness to me, but it's good thickness, and while I don't look like Charlize Theron, I can look decent if I try hard enough.

But if a guy was actually truthful, I might give him $20. I might even thank him for his honesty.

My friend and I are in agreement that it would be much, much easier for guys to tell us, "you're fat, you're ugly and I just don't like you," rather than to wonder endlessly what the hell they are thinking in their warped little heads when they're not thinking about food, sex, beer and football.

In the end, we really just want to know. I would have much, much more respect for someone who could tell me the truth than someone who throws me a bone once in awhile, or doesn't want to hurt my feelings.

You know, I'm a big girl (in more ways than one). They don't have to worry about making me cry or making me feel bad. I can handle it. And honestly, even if my heart gets a little broken or I get a little sad, I know life goes on, and I will move on, too. It's ok, really.

Most women just really want to know. You're not doing women-kind justice by dilly-dallying around.

So, gentlemen, just tell us. Tell us the truth. Don't sugarcoat it. Don't think you're being nice by not telling the truth, because in the end, you're being less nice.
Just tell me.
Tell me I'm fat.
Tell me I'm ugly.
Tell me I'm weird.
Tell me I'm not funny.
Tell me you're "just not that into me."

I can take it.

Bye, Terrie

The second friend I have named Terrie (with an "ie) is leaving the area to take a job in Madison. I'm very happy for her, as she will be working for the DLTCL and it will be a step up for her. I'll also still get to work with her, and she will actually be my "go to" person for some aspects of my job.

But I won't get to see her everyday or pop my head in her office just to say hi. She was a big reason I enjoyed my job at first. Our work environment is quiet enough as it is, and she said before she left last week that she hopes I don't get too bottled up in my corner office.

I know I'll still get to see her, but it won't be the same.
She was a great mentor, co-worker and friend to me, and I'll miss her.

Another Date

So it looks like my patience paid off. It wasn't easy, but it worked.
I had dinner with B on Wednesday. It was nice - quiet, relaxing and peaceful. It seems like meeting on weeknights works out the best for both of us, as work takes up a lot of his weekend time.
Is date # 3 in the future? We will see...

I Love Painkillers

I love painkillers and anesthesia. Both are wonderful things.

I remember the doctor asking me to make a fist, sticking a needle in my arm and then telling me to relax my hand. Next thing I know, I wake up with a bloody mouth filled with gauze. It was the best thing ever - not the blood and gauze, but being out during the procedure.

The painkillers have been good to me, also. I'm still really sore, but didn't swell up at all. I hope I can eventually start eating normal foods again, besides oatmeal, jello and soup.

Tomorrow

After 4:40 am tomorrow morning, I cannot eat or drink anything. At 10:40 am, I am "going under" to get my wisdom teeth pulled. All four of them.

Ten bucks says I set my alarm for 3 am and high-tail it to Perkins for a huge meal.

Why Does Patience Kill Me?

I've never considered myself to be an impatient person.

I can play hide and seek with Bella and Ben, even when they tell me where they are; hence, ruining the "hide and seek" concept.
I can teach someone a kickbox routine over and over until they get it.
I can listen to my mom go on and on when we're on the phone.
I can bake dozens of cookies in my kitchen for hours at a time.
I can play fetch with Kelly in the backyard like it's the greatest game in the world.

Yet when it comes to dating, I can be, at times, a little impatient. I try not to be, but sometimes I am. I don't know that I'm being entirely unreasonable, though. There's nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with someone you care about, and it's not like I demand someone's attention 24/7.

It probably doesn't help that I've been attracted to work-aholics, but I'd rather be dating a work-aholic than a couch potato.

The date with "B," last Friday went well, and I would like to see him again. In fact, he actually thanked ME the next day for MY PATIENCE during our date, because his work interrupted him a few times. Oh, I'm sure on the outside I appeared as cool as a cucumber, being understanding, smiling with kindness, laying a gentle, reassuring hand on what felt like a nicely sculpted bicep. The inside me wasn't thinking that way entirely. The inside me was probably a little impatient.

In spite of the interruptions, we still had a good time. From what I gather, he wants to see me again, too, but this week he's doing the jobs of three people.

So I have to be patient.
And I have to trust him.
And it's killing me.

First Date Rituals

Friday, 5 pm: Walk Kelly
5:15 pm: Feed Kelly, Sweep kitchen floor, Lay out clothes
5:30 pm: Paint nails, then lay down, shut eyes
6:10: Heat up some soup for dinner
6:23: Run the vacuum through the living room
6:28: Open and pour glass of white wine
6:30: Get in the shower
6:35: Shave legs (Do you have time for this?? Yes.)
6:40: Use pumice stone on feet? Nah. He won't see your feet, at least not tonight.
6:45: Plunge face in bowl of iced water, then exfoliate with real salt
6:50: Blow-dry hair
6:58: Apply make up
7:05: Get dressed, then pour second glass of wine
7:10: Curl hair, text Katie and Steph
7:20: Apply finishing touches, put shoes on, finish wine
7:23: Tidy up living room, check out outfit for the tenth time
7:25: Tell Kelly to quit barking and pacing. Oh wait, that's me.
7:26: Sit nervously on bed, watching Deal or No Deal
7:27: Do I have time for another glass of wine?
7:29: Doorbell rings