Posted in advice, aging, friendship, humor, Learning, Life, love, People, random, relationships, Uncategorized

The Dreaded “Good Morning” Text

 

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I would like to dedicate this post to my good friend from High School, who first brought this to my attention…you know who you are.

I have been single for a few months now, having just recently stopped licking the wounds from a very long, very turbulent, very damaging relationship- as many of you already know. Very early into my “singledom”, I was so terrified of backsliding (as I have countless times in the past) and running back to my ex, I decided it would be a good idea if I went out with someone new. You know, sort of as an insurance policy of sorts…yes, I see now that this is a bad idea on MANY levels. I have come to understand that I am in NO WAY ready to navigate the treacherous waters of dating, nor do I even want to. But for a minute there, I thought it was a good idea.

I had chatted with this dude on Facebook for quite some time before the actual, final demise of my relationship- going way back into December, I think. My ex and I were very off and on then, and I kept making tentative future plans to meet this guy for coffee, which kept never happening. As is often the case with Facebook, this guy knew a lot of people I knew, so I thought maybe I knew him, too, but even if I didn’t, he was clearly not an ax-murderer, right? RIGHT? Well, probably not, anyway. So, in March, when he asked me to have coffee with him again, I thought, why not?

Here’s the deal…it may have gone fine, if it weren’t for his total over zealousness. The minute I said yes, the barrage of Facebook messages and phone texts ratcheted up to intolerable levels. I got useless, boring conversations that distracted me from whatever I was doing. I got countless, irritating, winking emoticons. I got daily doses of the the dreaded “good morning” texts.

What is the problem?! You may be wondering. Clearly, this dude was interested in you, he just wanted to let you know. Isn’t that what girls want? Sigh…well, yes. And No. See, had we already met for coffee, and found that, indeed, there was a spark there, and we both felt it, those things may very well have been welcome.  But this guy didn’t even know me. At all. And something about those leering, winky emoticons made my skin crawl. I found a suggestiveness in those innocent yellow faced orbs that I never noticed before- I mean, what the hell was he getting at, anyway? Why all the winking?

Then came the morning, six thirty, tops, when I heard my phone buzz across the room, and noticed that my entire body tensed. “Gee, wonder who that could be?” I asked myself sarcastically. I grabbed my phone, and sure enough…”Good morning! wink, wink”. FUCK. I sent him a message back describing that I was in no way ready for any of this, that quite frankly, I was a little put off by all the attention, and I just didn’t know if meeting was a good idea. On the following Monday, he asked again, and I said NO. I told him “I am sure you are a really nice guy, but you seem to have a lot on your plate (he is going through a pretty nasty divorce, which he told me ALL about during our one phone conversation), and I am really not interested in complicating my life. I promised myself a long time ago that I would honor my instincts, and I am getting a big old NO in this case. I’m sorry.”

He said “I thought we could meet as friends and see where it goes.”

I said “I think I am being pretty clear that it can’t go ANYWHERE because I am not interested.”

He said “Okay. I’ll call you”

Sigh. Well, I don’t know if he’s called me or not, because the texts kept coming, so I just blocked him. Then I got rid of him on Facebook. Now, I keep getting hang-ups from a “no caller id” number. LOOKS LIKE I MADE THE RIGHT DECISION.

The moral here? Boys, dating a grown woman on the fast track to forty, especially one with kids, is not like dating a childless woman or a woman in her twenties or early thirties, even. We are infinitely more careful. We have usually learned hard lessons in love. To say we are cautious is optimistic of you- I’m more skittish than a mouse in a box with a boa constrictor. Of course, I am not dating, after all. But when I am…please don’t send me the dreaded “good morning” text. Not until you are pretty sure I am into you. 

Thanks.

And for my nominee for the Liebster award today, I have Three Months to Forty, a blog I just discovered about dating…at my age.

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Posted in family, kids, Life, Uncategorized

Politically Correct is Pure Crap and Common Sense is Dead, 1.

I was emailing a friend of mine today and I briefly touched on how Southerners are portrayed as well-mannered and discreet, while over here on the west coast, we are fake and politically correct. This is a sore subject for me, and I think it ties right into my observation that common sense is dead and gone, and the whole world is turning into a bunch of retarded pussies. If I haven’t offended you yet, you’ll probably be okay…

So, when I was a little girl starting kindergarten, it was 1980. I grew up in Fresno, CA. (shut up, I don’t live there now and I had no choice, I was FIVE.) which is not only NOT the friendliest town on earth, but has now evolved into, like, the murder capital of the world or some shit. But I digress- it was and probably is a city that seems to be filled primarily with people that are working, middle class of all varieties, a lot of people barely scraping by, and a lot who are just downright poverty stricken. We vacillated through most of those statuses while I was a kid there. The thing is, though, there was a rhythm to our lives- not just mine, but pretty much everyone in general. We all sat down for dinner together every night, at the table. We didn’t get up to gab on the phone mid-bite, unless we wanted to get our asses kicked. There were no cell phones, but if there had been, you wouldn’t have had one for long if you tried texting under the table. There were RULES. If we didn’t follow them, there were CONSEQUENCES.  After dinner, I did the dishes. If my mom told me to clean my room, I didn’t have the option of saying “NO.” Well, I had the option- and she had the option of slapping the shit out of me. I would not have DREAMED of calling the cops on my mom for it, either! Not unless I planned on leaving the state before she got back home, anyway.

Somewhere between 1980 and today, which isn’t all that long, really, shit has changed. And even though the changes are supposed to level the playing field and promote kindness and offend people less, as usual, it’s just completely gotten out of hand. Kids have always been bad in their way, but now they are seriously like little wild animals that no one is brave enough to train. There are no consequences for acting up anymore- unless you count the teachers who get their asses reamed for “singling out and humiliating” a child who NEEDS to be disciplined. If they have a mood, they take a pill. If they can’t or won’t pay attention or sit still, they take another pill. When they go out for sports, they all make the team, even if they suck. When they lose, they still get trophies. They won’t even really hold children back a grade when they are failing miserably in school. So what the fuck is the point of any of this stuff, then, anymore? How are these kids supposed to be prepared in any way, shape, or form for what is quite probably going to be waiting for them when they finally make it out of their parent’s home and into the real world? Easy. They never leave…OR, they get a job in Corporate America where there is just about nothing you can do to be fired, no matter how obvious it is that you ought to be.

Before I get into that, though, I want to mention one thing- I really, really believe that parents need to be able to beat their kids’ asses when necessary. I think it depends on the kid and it depends on the reason, and it depends, also, on your ability to not kill someone. Also, the age of the kid is a factor. I am not promoting abuse, not at all- but there is a difference between letting your child know that if they fuck up, they will have a welted ass before the day is through and taking out your own frustrations on an innocent kid. There is nothing wrong with your child being a little afraid of you, for the right reasons. There is something wrong if your kid flinches every time you move your arms- maybe ease up a little, mama! But if your kid would rather look like a sissy in front of his friends and NOT do something stupid, illegal or dangerous because he knows if he does and he gets caught, you will slap his face off his head, how is that BAD? That is your sole purpose as a parent- to try to turn out a human being who might possibly contribute to society someday. Trust me, you are NOT your child’s friend. Your kid does NOT tell you everything. Your kid is blowing so much smoke up your ass if you believe that, that I feel bad for you. You have to trust me on this, as I am learning the hard way- your kid is an asshole, just like you were at that age. You should stop what you are doing and go slap them right now, even if they are sleeping, just to get a feel for it. Okay, don’t do that. But look around you at the kids running around that are just spoiled brats who think everything should be handed to them on a silver platter (because it has been, duh.) and tell me honestly that the way we are doing things is working out. I have one of those kids, I know what I’m saying, man.  I did not do my job and now I’m suffering and she will probably be, too, in the years ahead.

Man, I didn’t even get to the main thing I wanted to talk about and this is already LONG. I’m going to have to make it a two parter, Sorry guys. I need to hit the sack!