Adventures 2.1 - One Date is Sometimes One Date Too Many

Ugh. Dating. Seriously. There are more frogs than princes, and not necessarily mean frogs or stupid frogs or ridiculous frogs (though there are a lot more of those than I ever thought possible) - just frogs. In case you get stuck in the "everyone deserves a second chance" mindset (of which I am most definitely guilty), consider the following signs as indications that one date is sometimes enough:

1. Your date smells. As in, did not shower before the date or perhaps even that day or week.

2. Your date carries a concealed weapon and you don't like handguns.

3. Your date says "let's meet at 6:45!" at a restaurant. And when the waitress comes he says, "I'm not eating, I'll just have a beer" and then doesn't ask if you want food. I had a glass of wine. On an empty stomach. That was growling. I guess I missed the memo that dinner is out of style.

4. When the hostess asks your date for his name for the waitlist, your date stares at her quizzically and doesn't answer. I gave her my name.

5. It takes 2 beers for your date to crack a joke.

6. The date feels more like an interview than, I don't know, a date.

7. You make small talk about the weather. At the end of the date. Because you've run out of things to say. (and this from a person who can make small talk for hours)

8. Getting your date to initiate conversation can be difficult, especially at first and especially if he is nervous or shy or doesn't date much. After an hour, though, he should be able to come up with something.

9. Your date goes in for the goodnight kiss and you are a) not expecting it, b) not desiring it, and c) can't turn your head for the cheek-kiss fast enough so you get an awkward one planted on you. Not awesome.

10. You think - multiple times during the date and lament to your dog afterwards - that you can't believe you wasted doing your hair/makeup/an outfit on this.

11. Anything that Big Country said or did.

Adventures 2.0 - New site, new people, new...nope, that's it.

I actually got matched with a guy I tangentially know. A friend of a friend, that kind of thing. Anyhow, I decided to start online dating again. Taxi light is back on. I'm trying a different site, mainly because I didn't want to get the same batch of guys on the old one. It's taken some time to get used to this site. The features are different, the process is different, you essentially start directly with open communication (their email system). People "wink" a lot. I am all about the wink, but this is a little overkill. There are no questions, not much guidance in the profile part. There are too many buttons and tabs and editable sections. There are 8 ways to get to the same place, which is both confusing and annoying. I feel more prepared, though - like I know what to expect this time around - and I feel like I'm more relaxed. Less anxiety for it to "work" and more just having fun with it.

I also have a better idea of what (who) to look for and what (who) to avoid. There is still the same mix of TMI/overshare, iPhone self photos (which I've recently learned are called "selfies?"), do-you-really-think-that-about-yourself? statements, and attempted machismo. 99% of men in the metro Atlanta area still love to stay fit, be outside, and tailgate. Alabama and UGA football are again the top passions and there is no shortage of pictures of guys with bowties and shortsabovetheknee. I also didn't know there were so many laid-back and easy-going men in this city. It seems that Atlanta is full of them.

I haven't gone on any dates yet, but I am at that "so here's my number" phase with a couple guys. I don't know their names and probably won't learn them unless it turns into something. After all, there's only so much brain space I can devote to this. It'd be nice if they wore numbers, like in sports. Then I could just keep a short stats sheet in my head: #42 - 5'8", Decatur, 2 dogs, engineer. What else do I need to know, really, unless we hit it off? Then - like I do with sports teams - I'll learn their names and where they're from, where they went to school and who traded them. And follow them with a keen interest in how the season turns out :)

Who's the adult around here?

There has been a lot of turnover and turmoil at work this year (see previous post about professional kidney shots). And the shots just keep coming. The latest is the new Exec Direc. He started as the interim, which was fine because, well, it wasn't forever. Now he's the actual ED and he is ruffling quite a few feathers - and not in a wonderful change- and growth-oriented way. The ED is a nice man, overall. But he's a 78-year old Southern boy - read: not a lick of professionalism and definitely not any current century ideas of workplace professionalism. His comments are inappropriate and sexist, he discloses personal information about staff members (and their families) in organization-wide emails asking for prayer, and he makes disparaging comments about certain employees to other employees. This is a problem, not the least because he works in and is now the boss of an office comprised of mainly women, the majority in their 20s & 30s. Since he's officially taken office (last week), more than a few employees have come to me to voice their complaints and concerns and ask about the formal complaint chain and/or HR person to whom they should report. Yeah, we don't have that. All of this left me wondering where the hell is the adult around this place. And then I realized that, with a few others, holy shit - it's me.

I'm only concerned because it seems
like a man is wearing this shirt.

He recently offended me personally and I was not excited about coming to work today. Staying in bed with Nora and calling in sick seemed the easier option, but I put on my big girl pants (a blue dress by Lauren Conrad that I got at Kohl's) and came in (albeit a little late). After a pep talk from my friend/coworker/SLiz, I invited him for a little sit-down in the ol' office to essentially say, ya can't say those things. I started with the banal "clear the air" opener and then asserted my hurt feelings over his comments. We moved into talking about privacy and confidentiality and the need to keep formal religious language out of the workplace. You know, because we're not a Christian organization and it's the law. But he surprisingly took it well, and while he made some comments that I was glad he made in the privacy of my office and not in an email, he also made a couple comments that make me think he will try to be aware in the future. He even noted that he shouldn't have said the things he said to me. It might take a while for him to learn the proper rules of professionalism, but I'm hopeful we're on our way. If not, I'm sure there will be more sit-downs about it.

Lightning striking agaaaaaain

If you can sing that song, you either grew up with Sally as your mom or you were in Fellini's on Tuesday night. Anyhow, a lot more than the date changed for me on January 1. Things personally and professionally took a punch to the kidney; however, there is one small glimmer of sunshine:

 

At least I'm not on The Bachelor.

 

This is my 4th year of The Bachelor/Bachelorette series. It started out as something that brought my Atlanta world together over the summer on a Monday night. Ali was the Bachelorette. It was weird in the way that only reality TV can be weird. We balked at its ridiculousness, laughed at its absurdity, and mocked its premise. Chris Harrison is perhaps the worst host imaginable. Chavez would have been a more eloquent presence (too soon?). And still, I look forward to this every Monday night every year.

 

Now it has become a time for me to get together with a couple close friends, chat, laugh, and catch up on our lives and our weeks (and let's be honest, for me to see and hold an incredibly precious baby). I really look forward to this connection. And I also look forward to it because of its validation. My life might be crumbly, but I'm not on The Bachelor. I might not be married, but I'm not on The Bachelor. I might fail publicly, but I don't make annoying emotional outbursts on national TV. I might have problems, but being on The Bachelor ain't one of them.

(In other news, the season finale is Monday night. I'm so excited)

(In other other news, I posted a link on Facebook to One Simple Wish - onesimplewish.org - an organization that grants wishes to foster kids. It's a lot of Disneyland stuff, but it's also things like luggage and shoes and a carseat. Anyhow, I wrote something nice because it was FB, but how I wanted to start the post was "Don't be a douche." Hee hee) 

My First Quilt

...was a pain in the ass. But it is done and I've successfully (though definitely not perfectly) made a t-shirt quilt. And you can too, in these easy steps:

1. Cut the shirts into pieces, presumably saving the parts you want. Lay them out on the floor and determine the placing before you get a dog because after you get a dog she will want to play with them.

2. Make sure you have all the supplies you need.

3. Iron the cut shirts onto fusible interfacing or fusible batting. The most efficient method is doing this while your dog is being cute and wants to play with you and the pile of fused shirts. 

4. Wrangle the pieces free and sew them together. Then measure the backing. This should be done on a raised surface - like an ironing board or your bed - unless you want your dog to lie on it. That makes it difficult to work with.

5. Begin the actual quilting. These will be the worst moments of your life.

6. Don't forget to sew through your finger. A full impalement is preferable (see the drop of blood at the tip of my finger), as is passing out afterward. Don't worry, your dog will be there when you wake up.

7. Yay! You're done with the quilting! Lay the quilt out on your bed and get excited because you're almost done. Now it's time to bind.

8. Binding is the way to cover up your mistakes and make the edges pretty. That way you can cut the shirts with your eyes closed and no one will ever know :)

9. Finish binding. You're done! Wash it and give that damn thing away! (Oh, you thought you got to keep it? Oh no no no. You did all that with someone else's t-shirts.)

Nora Knippel, dog extraordinaire.

She is kind of fantastic, even when she does chew on Smoothie and throw up in my bed first thing in the morning. Yum.

On the way home!

First night, chillin' with the fuzzy giraffe

First night snuggles

Yay :)

It only took a week, but she gets
in the car on her own!

Still snuggling :)

Love.

I play when I want!

Seriously my favorite thing about her.

Forget tennis balls, I love pine cones!!

Look into my baby browns.