I hate sideline reporting

This isn't a sideline reporter
and I actually get creeped
out by humans in
giant animal costumes.

I hate sideline reporting. And I might actually mean hate. "Coach, you're down 10 points going into halftime. What are you going to tell your players in the locker room?" "Well, Katie, we're probably just going to give ourselves two minutes, color some of our My Little Pony coloring sheets, and maybe do some deep meditation if we still have time." Really? Really? What do you think he's going to do?? No one cares. No one. No one. Stop. You just sound stupid. Please just stop. Or at least ask something like, "Coach, it looks like it's going to rain later. Are you afraid you're going to get struck by lightning?" And maybe dress up like a giant chicken. That at least would add a level of intrigue.

I love Ramen. I wasn't one of those college students who lived off Ramen so it's only recently that I've realized an undiscovered love for the salty little cheap package of pasta that cooks in 3 minutes. I try to keep one in the cupboard just in case I can't think of anything else to eat. I know it has a day's worth of sodium, but let's be honest - who cares?

Julia Ginger

I have a beautiful office plant named Julia Ginger. She - along with a Diet Coke Tervis tumbler - was a gift from my parents. A sort of "yay you have a real grown up job one year after your graduated from a master's program that didn't give you any marketable skills, only a bunch of theology that now makes us think you might not love Jesus" gift...just kidding. But I do love Julia Ginger. And am shocked that she is still alive after four months. I have never been able to keep a plant alive - not one that bloomed anyway. Julia doesn't bloom, but the fact that she has new little baby leaves and hasn't turned brown and crispy make my heart leap. She's not just surviving - she is thriving.

Part of me wants to be the tall
yellow one, but part of me wants to
be the one smacking the
yellow one in the face. 

After these past couple weeks at work, I've realized how deep my loathing of politics and politicians runs. I think they're all selfish little power mongers who don't actually know or care to know what is really going on with their constituents. Want to take the grant money that funds my program because you think you can do something better with it by throwing it at a state or national program? Come sit in my office for a day and tell me how you're going to do that. I'll give you stats, old white man in your ivory tower office, if you want stats. I'll gather up a group of audiologists and patients and we'll sit on your office chairs and show you how that money is being used. Do you even know what goes in to getting a hearing professional to take on a patient knowing they aren't going to be reimbursed much more than the cost of the staples in the patient's file? How successful have you been at that? Come at me, Po. My inner mountain lion is ready for a good rumble... I will actually probably let my boss handle you because I struggle with being diplomatic when someone's being a power hungry ass hat, and we actually do need state reps to like us. So while you're physically safe, I will continue to tear you to shreds with my vicious online rhetoric.

420 Pause for the Cause

So VW turned out to be a stage 5 clinger (I don't think you understand the urgency of the situation!) with no emotional boundaries; ergo, no second date. I actually canceled the second date on the day we were supposed to go out. Sorry, bud, but I'm not your self esteem coach or your therapist, and we're not in a relationship so perhaps consider keeping certain things to yourself. Like how much you hated your last job, how you think you're a loser with no talent, and how you don't think you've made your father proud. I really feel for you buddy, but that's not lighting any fires.

So I'm drawing on the board again. 39 (alternative nickname: Oldie) and I have tentative plans for a date once he gets back from out of town, and I still check the site every couple days sending smiles and answering people's questions. I'm preparing myself for the fact that the only thing I might have after my membership ends is a strong arsenal of first date anecdotes and stories that start with "holy shit, so this one guy I got matched with..." Classic. And 39 might should be off the list because he's like 11 years older than I am. But let's be honest: He's handsome. And shorter than he is tall, which I think is kinda cute. And he's probably a little more emotionally mature than a 23 year old. My concerns with Oldie are mainly that he could be too mature (read: boring. Dull. Age Spots. Creaky. Old) and wants to get married yesterday. I'm still a young spring chicken! I still have a pep in my step (as long as it's before 10pm)!! Though my doctor reminded me I'm nearing 30 so I should be getting baseline things done like blood tests and shit, which is ridiculous because I still feel 26. Besides, I thought 27 was the new 17! Shouldn't I be going to prom, not getting my cholesterol checked?

One of only a few
pics I have where
she's fully clothed.

Anyhow, blah blah blah. Let's talk about something else because online dating gets boring and tiring to do and to talk about. So in other news, my niece is awesome. She can count to three; say words like cheese, shoes, cookie, and Nnenna (that's me!!); say sentences like "what's that?" and "I did it!" while clapping for herself; and is basically a little 18 month old nudist. That girl never has clothes on.

I bought a real big girl grown up bed and I'm excited about it! I love my bed - my mattress, I guess - but I still have the metal frame it came with four years ago. Time to upgrade. Thank you, Rooms To Go sale. And I'm getting closer (like 2 months!) from having my own apartment, so it's time to get things I want and love. And don't have to worry about roommates ruining. Like a crockpot and a KitchenAid mixer and real dishes. And a big comfy wingback to read in. And sharp knives and a little eating table with matching chairs. Fuck a registry; I have my own list.

I also still love my job, though I've been there long enough to have had days where I really hate old deaf people and their families. Like days when they yell and curse at you over the phone, speak condescendingly because you aren't ancient like they are, and in general act like little sniveling brats because you won't give them something for free that would actually cost them thousands of dollars. But for the most part I like what I do and I love love the people I work with. Even my boss who is pregnant, which explains why she was a little...moody for a month or so. Poor thing was just hormonal.

Adventures #4: For Real?

So after Big Country turned out to be full of air (and himself), it was back to the drawing board. The big overwhelming board that is online dating. Being matched with men almost twice your age. Being matched with men almost three times your size. Men who literally list "i am proud to be an American" as one of the three things they are most grateful for. Part of me wishes I was a sociologist with some sort of analytical program to do outcome measuring on the number of men who list outdoors, sports, and physical fitness as their life passions. More than a little part of me wishes I could see what kind of women are on this site. I bet it's just as interesting as the men...

Anyhow, so Big Country was a big bust and I was back to work (because this shit is definitely work). I had it down to another set of three - VW, 39, and K-O - but 39 kind of fell off the list because that's his age, which I failed to realize until we were doing the questions thing and then I went, yeah 39 is a little old for me. 12 years, really? Too much. K-O seems normal, whatever. But VW was the first to jump and ask for my number so we set the first date. For a Tuesday night. At 7:30pm.

And that's when things went to shit.

Tuesday evening he calls to confirm (a welcomed move), but says he's had a hard day at work and wound up leaving later than expected; would I mind pushing it back to 7:45? I say, of course, no problem, let's make it 8pm. Who doesn't understand work getting crazy and leaving late, right? Except now we're pushing my bed time and I'm trying to hold off eating so I'll actually be hungry when I get there, but I'm already hungry and starting to get tired and, well, that's not always a winning combination for me.

So I leave in time to make our (now) 8-o-clock date and as I'm on my way I get a text saying to drive slowly because he's running behind. I don't like late. But there's the benefit of the doubt and all that, so I continue on my way and get there just before 8. I sit on the bench outside the restaurant and wait. And wait. He texts me at 8:07 saying he's five minutes away from leaving. At 8:17 I text him and say I'm heading back to my car and I'm leaving. Text, text, text, text. I'm pissed and leaving long ranting voicemails on friends' phones. And then he texts that he values my time but he lost his job that day and had to pack up his stuff and it took longer than he'd expected...

SERIOUSLY???!!! (yes, that's me yelling).

So now I feel like shit because someone lost their job and that's scary and sad. I feel badly for him, like I should call and ask how he's doing and let him talk it out. But I don't want to do that because I don't know him and he's a big boy - he can call a friend. Instead I just texted how sorry I was and that I would be willing to try again for a second first date. I was a glass case of emotion and I don't like glass cases - not on first dates, which are already stressful enough.

Who has the energy for this stuff?? These are things you go through with your besties, with your people. Not with first dates you don't know. If anything, this online dating process has taught me that I value deep, meaningful relationships and that I actually feel fairly full of deep and meaningful (except for the life partner part). The romantic relationships I have loved being in were with people I knew before dating - I knew who they were and I liked them as people - so this "meet and get to know each other while dating and trying to be awesome" crap is kinda for the birds. It's exhausting. If life's about the journey, this must be an uphill part.