Day One Swiftly Comes.
(and other Wednesday musings)

First and foremost: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WAYNE! You thought I forgot, didn't ya? Here's to the life of the bestest single dad I know.

Tomorrow is Day One ... the new companies are merging (Chase and Bank One). My company has some kick ass benefits, and I keep hearing through the grapevine that they are going to slash them up. I guess I'll find out tomorrow morning. They already took away casual Fridays, but hey ... at least I still work there to whine about it, unlike the bunch of IT folks that got pink-slipped last week.

I was worried that I might be told to pack up my cubic-hell tomorrow morning upon arrival. Alas - 'tis not to be! I have had an upward movement in my hierarchal title ... I am now officially titled as a Senior Operational Analyst. This brings no additional pay, but brings me one step closer to my "AVP by the age of 30" goal. I also received clearance, full tuition and books paid, to obtain my professional certification I've been drooling over. Is it classist to want to have letters behind my name on my business card?

Emailed back and forth with J today ... all day long. He's cute, funny, charming, and did I mention cute? Maybe lunch on Friday is in order, we shall see.

Have a nasty summer cold. I sound like that annoying lady from "The Nanny". Or even worse, Chandler's girlfriend Janice ... OHHH MYYYY GAAAAWD!

Other than the cold, could my life get any better right now? I have a good, solid job, cute men in my life, the most adorable daughter in the whole wide world, ... all I need is a good sunny day to lay my white self in the sunshine - I need a tan.

Oh, and just in case you were wondering ...

74 days till I leave for AC.

Yes I had drinks with R last night. And yes I liked it.

Too bad I'm allergic to Penicillin ...

Some jackball decided it would be great fun to slip a trojan horse past my virus scanner and personal firewall. Bastards. I've spent the whole evening attempting to clean the damned thing off of my system. I'm so annoyed right now. Don't these lame-ass losers have anything better to do with their time? I'm relegated to sitting here on the couch, and running every virus-scanner and spyware detector known to man.

So, to kill the time while my system is lysoled from the inside out, I'm watching some drivel on VH1 about hottest hotties. Who's on your list? You know ... "the list". Here's mine, in no particular order ... Notice that there aren't any typical factors there, no running theme. Interesting.

GUYS ON MY FANTASY LIST:
George Clooney
Colin Farrell
Jon Seda
Dave Grohl (current-day, not grungy Nirvana type)
LL Cool J
Paul Walker
Orlando Bloom (that one's for you, MAV)
Ben Affleck (before he poked it in J-Hoe)

WOMEN I'D CONSIDER GOING GAY FOR:
Gwen Stefani
Angelina Jolie (provided she doesn't stab me and keep my blood in a vial around her neck)
Mischa Barton

Who's on YOUR lists? Don't be shy, guys and gals. 'Fess up in the comment section below.

i've found a reason to show
a side of me you didn't know

I had a nice time tonight. I had a wonderful date, at least I think it was a date, I'm not really sure.

After work, I went to Bar Louie for a GGC with a hot man. Had only intended on having one, but ended up drinking two ... and some bruschetta. We met at 5:15 for just one drink, no more than an hour or so, and we didn't leave till nearly 7. I sat on the patio, had a great conversation with a hysterically funny guy, flirted shamelessly, had my boobs ogled by my date (under the ruse of looking at my necklace ... the one he purchased), and I'm actually cool with it. After all, it's not like he hasn't seen them before. But he sure did blush and stammer when I caught him peeking.

Would I go out with him again? Sure - if he asked. Was *the spark* there? Of course it was, silly! We've already established that there's only been two men in my life that have ever had *the spark* with me. I think I will send the standard, patented, award-winning Martini-brand "I had a wonderful time last night - can we do it again sometime soon?" note, and see where it goes. After all, I now owe him dinner AND a drink. Actually, GGCs don't come cheap ... maybe I can work it off? *evil grin*

Hey, look at it this way: at least I know for sure that he's not married. I have the signed and notarized documents to prove it in my filing cabinet at work.

Other news - met a nice guy. Apparently he hasn't heard of the "three day rule" ... rec'd an email from him within a few hours. Look for an appearance of a new guy, as J is quite charming and quite cute. It's rainin men, hallelujah.

Passion makes the world go round.
Love just makes it a safer place.

OK kiddies. It's been a real long time since I wrote about something really hot and passionate. Unfortunately, I haven't had any steamy encounters in which to write about. And my usual source of inspiration for passionate encounters has succumbed to its namesake's laziness (or possibly his lack of funds). So what does one lonely woman do for "inspiration"? Well, she reads the latest installment of her favorite literary series.

Ten Big Ones arrived in my mailbox today. And of course, I sat down and ripped the box open ... and read it cover-to-cover. I was a bit disappointed in the lack of Ranger lovin - particularly after Stephanie ended up in his bed (it's really rather innocent, in a bounty-hunter-getting-stalked-by-a-gang-banger-sort-of-way). I had certainly hoped for a Ranger/Stephanie reunion, but that's not what Evanovich had in mind. I'll still hold out for it, as I'm one Plum Crazy "Babe" for sure.

As part of the entire "Plum" series, Ranger is Stephanie's mentor, lover, and a constant source of her romantic confuzzlement. It's a total love/lust/hate relationship. She loves him, but the love is fueled by a total unbridled passion that is unquestionable. The hate comes in when she realizes that she knows nothing about him, his family, or his life - he's just all smoke and mirrors. He protects her, saves her life on a regular basis, but then disappears for weeks at a time. Meanwhile, Joe Morelli is the city's hottest cop - that owns a house in her hometown, everyone knows him (and his former bad reputation), he's honest and open with Stephanie, and he's ... dare I say it ... stable.

This all is a metaphor for every woman's life, honestly. Do you go for the pure passion and hot sex, or do you go for stability, honesty, and openness? I think that there has to be a certain someone out there for every person that not only kindles the spark of passion, but also calms the sea of life. And it really is possible for both passion and calm to come from the same person; a Ranger and a Morelli all wrapped up into one. You know, I think that a "bad boy" can also be passionate and loving. Case in point, the author of today's title ... Ice-T.

Oh, and a 10:00 PM edit for Drama Queen ... Googlism returned today's gem ... christ is da bomb. Word to yo mutha.

Just one of the seven deadly sins.
That's not a bad ratio, right?

Since when did adultery come into vogue? I just finished reading Living Single, and was less than thrilled with it. It was too wishy-washy for me, and tried to concentrate on so many parts of Erin's (the protagonist's) life that it didn't really do justice to any of them. The main story line, however, was Erin's affair with a married man. She KNEW he was married, and continued the affair anyways. I read the book, and gained an interesting perspective that I've never had before - the INTENTIONAL other woman. I've been the other woman, but never intentionally. And this happened to me in the fairly recent past. See, a certain person who shall remain nameless (but has made an appearance in this blog) is married. Not separated, as he would have me believe. Oh no, still married. And I found out about this and was NOT thrilled. There are only two major deal breakers with me in life: liars and cheaters. And this person is obviously both.

Let me explain a bit better. This person had been unhappily married for quite some time. But, he led me to believe that he had filed for separation, and they were in the court-imposed thirty day waiting period (before getting a finalization date in front of a judge/magistrate). Then some other "things" came up, and "delays" happened ... then before I knew it, four months had elapsed without any semblance of forward movement. About a month ago, when I was really in that period of introspection about R, I put a significant bit of distance between us. Come to find out (via a handy-dandy Internet search) that the papers were never even filed in the first place. Half of me is so bitterly angry about being lied to, that it's taking everything in me not to pick up the phone and ruin his life. But the other part of me knows, deep down, that exacting that kind of revenge will only hurt his children.

After talking to a mutual friend, it came out that "You didn't know that? Really? He has no intention of leaving her, ever. It's a total marriage of convenience, they both have their mutual dalliances, and put on a happy corporate face when necessary." Fabulous. So he's a serial whore. Just freaking fabulous.

At least I'm not the total cliche ... "the only thing created when a man marries his mistress: a job opening."

I think all this rates a "WHAT THE FUCK?" Is it too much to ask for a man that can keep his cock in his pants, and to be equally as committed to you as he expects you to be to him? And why is it socially acceptable to fuck around on your spouse? I'm certainly not a prude (maybe I'll be brave enough to write up "The Ex-Files" for you all someday), but Christ on a cracker, I respect a solemn wedding vow! From someone that's been on the receiving end of an affair (for those of you that don't know, I discovered shortly post-separation that R had a girlfriend ... who was also married. Nice.), it is a pain like no one has ever known before. And God damn it, I'm not going to be The Other Woman. Not consciously, anyways.

Rec'd an email recently from The Cheater ... all it said was "Are you ignoring me? Haven't heard from you, wonder if you are OK. Call me, you know the number." And what did I do? That's right - promptly hit delete.

Was up at mom and dad's this weekend. I was supposed to help at a beep-ball tournament, but it got cancelled (and no one bothered to call me and let me know. Nice.) So, today I helped my mom and dad out by volunteering at a tournament/picnic for a league of 6-9 year old girls that play softball. Drove by B's place of business, which is close to the softball complex. Thought briefly about stopping, as his big huge Suburban and that Ducati that I love so much was out front - along with a hose, where he was obviously washing said truck and bike. I would have guessed that he would have been out on his boat today, as it was a really nice day, but I guess not. Oh and the best part about him washing his multitude of toys? Presumably, he would do so shirtless, as I like him. But alas, I decided I had enough drama/trauma in my life without bringing him back into it. I drove on by, without stopping. At least I had enough to keep my brain occupied during the drive home - a naked B is a good B, in my opinion. 'Tis better to keep the fantasy in my head of the hot man, than to mire it all in uncomfortable conversation, you know?

I'm hoping that this is a better week than last, without cheaters, liars and whores. And, for that matter, no more of R stringing me along. At least there's one exciting thing happening this week. Here's to Day One, and the inevitable bounty to my 401k that it will bring.

'cause tomorrow's another day
and i'm thirsty anyway
so, bring on the rain

Ever have one of those days? No, not "THOSE" days in the bad sense, but one of those days where you are in a bad mood for no good reason? Warning, this is a hormonal estrogen-powered rant, replete with language that will make a sailor blush.

I had my interim performance review at work today. As suspected, it was absolutely stellar. The only complaint? That I work too hard. I'm not kidding. My boss told me that I didn't have to take on everything that I do. But honestly, it makes my day go faster. If I have too much "down time", my days just drag on and on. I much prefer having ten projects in the pipeline, as opposed to nothing at all.

I finally hit the proverbial brick wall today. Remember that on Tuesday I sent a note to R asking to meet on either Tuesday night or Thursday night? Well, I mentioned it when we spoke earlier today, and he muttered something to the effect of he didn't feel well. My last word on that subject? "Well, I'll be home later tonight. If you come over, great. And if you don't, that's OK ... I get it. Hope you feel better soon. -h." And his answer to that? "umm, get what???"

I didn't respond. Purposely. Because if he really needs to ask the question, he hasn't listened to a single damned word I've said over the last four months.

I'm not going to allow him to mind-fuck me anymore. I'm tired of pouring my soul out to someone that doesn't give a damn what happens to me. The old cliche is true, actions DO speak louder than words. His words continually say "let's have lunch one day this week" or "when are we going to see Jersey Girl", etc., ad infinitum. But when I actually push the issue, and suggest a time/place, then he backs down. His actions say - "I don't respect you, and I will allow you to be a doormat as long as you want to be." I finally realized today that I would NOT tolerate this behavior from any other man I'd date, why the hell should I allow him to act like this with me? I demand respect from other men, why wouldn't I hold R to that same high standard? Hope he enjoys his quiet days at work without email or phone calls from me. I'm DONE bending over backwards for him. There is only so much shit a woman can be expected to take before she just stands up and says "ENOUGH!"

I have been asked out by a few folks lately, and I've purposely put them off (to see what would happen on T/Th night with R). I have my resolution, as it's now nearly 9:30 and there is NO R. As if I should have expected any different. With him, I've learned to set my expectations low, and I won't be disappointed when he inevitably fails me.

I have a migraine that won't quit. Princess is refusing to go to sleep, she wants to stay up and play with the mee-yow. But it's bedtime. So, I'm relegated to alternately listening to The Beastie Boys and a little plaintive voice saying "Heya, mommmeee! No night night! NOOOOO!" I sense an Imitrex and an icebag in my future. Side note: when did the Beasties get old? They have receding hairlines. And Mike D is wearing a polo shirt. Christ on a stick, I'm old.

Today's Theme Song.

Remember my post on "theme songs"? I'd forgotten about this one. Fifty bonus points a la Rance if you can tell me where it's from ... WITHOUT GOOGLING.

The night is bitter,
The stars have lost their glitter;
The winds grow colder
And suddenly you're older -
And all because of the man that got away.

No more his eager call,
The writing's on the wall;
The dreams you dreamed have all
Gone astray.

The man that won you
Has gone off and undone you.
That great beginning
Has seen the final inning.
Don't know what happened. It's all a crazy game!

No more that all-time thrill,
For you've been through the mill -
And never a new love will
Be the same.

Good riddance, good-bye!
Ev'ry trick of his you're on to.
But, fools will be fools -
And where's he gone to?

The road gets rougher,
It's lonelier and tougher.
With hope you burn up -
Tomorrow he may turn up.
There's just no letup the live-long night and day!

Ever since this world began
There is nothing sadder than
A one-man woman looking for
The man that got away....
The man that got away.

Luck if you've ever been a lady to begin with
Luck be a lady tonight.

Just got off the phone with Ree. Guess what. We're going to ATLANTIC CITY! Not that I haven't mentioned that a million times already, but we're going for the WEEK. She is going anyways, and we're going to work out the money - the agreement is, "we'll make it happen, whatever it takes". I'm going to request the time off tomorrow, and we're going for the whole week. We'll leave from The Rubber City on that Monday morning, early. By early, I mean like, 7 or 8 AM. This is frightening. It's really going to happen.

I haven't been to AC for the entire Miss A week, ever. I've been for the parade/finals night, but never for the whole week. I'm completely beside myself with joy right now. I might explode. Have the duct tape at the ready, because you'll need to put me back together.

ARIES, June 21 - There is so much friction in the room your hair is practically standing on end. Is that something weird with the electricity and the carpets, or is what you're feeling romantic tension?

I think it's romantic tension. I'm at an interesting crossroads, as I have several things going on in my life right now. Let's run them down, shall we?

TheDate: A nice guy, but is the spark there? Don't know. It's hard to make a snap judgment when you are absorbed in the trappings of a first date, you know?

ItsJustLunch: Ran into him in the cafe today. Well, it was more of a "ran BY him" in the cafe today. He was dining with an SVP I recognized (but have never been formally introduced to), and I was running late for my 1:00 meeting (imagine that). I decided it was best not to butt in, so I didn't do anything more than flash my million-watt smile. And it was warmly returned, complete with a little blush. Girlfriend informed me that he is interested, so it's one of those "right place, right time" things. He's a little shy (the way I like 'em), so it may take a little while. But I would imagine that it would be worth the wait if it "happened", you know?

Which brings me to R. Ahh, the recurring theme of strain and stress in my life. I've been through some serious ups-and-downs in the past six months, and it's been since February 23rd since I've told him how I feel. The bottom line is this: I need some closure. I'm done feeling selfish about pushing for a resolution, as it's selfish of R to continually string me along without either saying, "yes, I think we should try to work this out", or "no, we just can't turn back." And the really selfish part? I don't think I could be just his friend. I think there's only two options here: romantic interest, or ex-husband. I don't think there's an option c: friend.

This leads into today's revelation. I offered to either meet up with him Tuesday or Thursday night, his place or mine (depending on who had the Princess). I can't keep going on like this - either it's time for R to step up, be a man, and act like he wants to date me ... or cut me emotionally loose and I can move on. I need the satisfaction of him looking me in the face and saying what needs said. We shall see.

In happier news - Who Wants To Marry My Dad? is back! Yay!

Till tomorrow ...

(11:29 PM EDIT - just purchased a copy of TEN BIG ONES with my handy-dandy coupon from eBay. My final price for a hardback copy? $8.79, shipped to my door. Yippee!)

How much was that again?!?

Spank The Monkey.

A fun addicting little game from a newly found blog. Check out The Secret Exploits Of A Girl In Her 20s - well worth your time.


Spank The Monkey!

I'm up to 288 MPH. How'd ya do?

Shaking my coffee cup full of coins.

I sat down and figured out my finances. I have to save $70 per month to be able to afford to go to Atlantic City. I really wish that I was, like, independently wealthy. At least that way. I could just up and go, and not have to worry about how many different ways to say "no, I can't do that this week (well ... this MONTH), I just can't afford it." My concern would be ... "wow, which pair of Manolos will I wear to the pageant?"

Maybe I'll just start panhandling on the corner. I could make enough to pay my way to AC and not worry about it. Even though we're splitting the hotel room about 6 ways, it still is going to be a stretch to cover it. Trump is so damned rich anyways, why does he need to charge so stinkin much for a hotel room??? You know, if I were still married, this would be an absolute non-issue.

Maybe the title of this post should have been "I Wanna Be Rich".

Word of the day.

Veepstakes. n. The process in which John Kerry will select his running mate. Required proficiencies must include having a head smaller than Mr. Kerry's. By process of elimination, this means that 99% of the American public is eligible.

Maybe I didn't break Big. Maybe was me that couldn't be broken. Some women can't BE broken, they just have to run wild until they find someone to run wild with them.

I'm completely hooked on Sex And The City on TBS. I've been watching it every night this week. They haven't hacked it up too badly so far, but there are some classic episodes that they just won't be able to show ... for example, The Rabbit.

Tonight, the first episode shown was the one where Big drops it on Carrie that he and Natasha are engaged. I have been told by many a friend that I'm Carrie reincarnated, and as I watched the show, it reminded me of where I'm at in life right now. I'm continually trying to be just R's friend, and I don't know if I can do it. We do this really odd dance, where we are "friends", but neither of us ever admit to dating someone else. He never even confirmed the existence of BarWhore to me, I did it for him. I don't know if I can be just his friend. Is that wrong? Is it wrong to want it to be all or nothing? I really have tried to be patient and understanding, and kind, and blah blah blah. But until I reconcile the fact that I have to stop comparing every other man to R, I'll continue to be alone.

Other news ... it's just lunch. Right? Girlfriend introed me to a very nice guy that is an AVP at the same firm as us. Not sure if it will ever be anything other than friends, but in the worst case scenario, I've made a new friend.

But there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The second episode tonight is the one where Charlotte meets Troy. Maybe there's a silver lining after all.

Technologically challenged.

M's email is down at work, but she can access her web-based addy. I think this is precisely what I'd do if I were "disconnected" ...

"Yeah, if I have to go much longer without my email, I would be forced to drag my trashcan into the hallway, fold my big fat ass into it and sing "Orange Colored Sky" until responses to my emails begin to appear.

I can't handle this kind of isolation."

I really do think that we are twins, seperated at birth.

The buzz is deafening.
I can no longer hear the voices in my head telling me to do bad things.

I'm sure by now you've heard all about Farenheit 9/11. As your friendly neighborhood raving liberal, I'm just dying to see it. I'm not a huge Michael Moore fan, I find him boorish and terribly ... well ... skeevy. But I'm really curious to see what the buzz is all about.

I've been overwhelmed with work lately. I'm in the hardcore audit season, and finishing up a major overhaul of policies and procedures. It's now nearly twenty after eight, and I'm going to bed soon. Whoa, I'm a WILD woman!

No news from The Date, or R. Although Girlfriend has decided that she wants me to go out with a friend of hers. She has impeccable taste in friends, just look at yours truly.

Till tomorrow ...

Guilty Pleasures.

There aren't many things in life that I do for myself. This journal is one of them, but my favorite guilty pleasure: SOUTH PARK. I think TIM-MAY! is the funniest damned thing I've ever seen. Every time I hear him exclaim "TIM-MAY!" I just giggle.

My food guilty pleasure: eating nothing but chips n salsa for dinner. Yup, that's what I had tonite! I suck. You know, if I were married, I wouldn't have been able to eat chips n salsa for dinner. So there. That's my reason for not being married.

Wow, I sure can rationalize ...

I'll tell ya where to go ...

Today's fun Wonkette quote ...

One solution to the "what to name after Reagan" dilemma:

MATTHEWS: What do you think of the discussion by Grover Norquist and some of the other real gung-ho guys about putting Reagan on the $10 bill and that sort of thing?

FRANKEN: I was thinking of putting him on all the currency, just, he's on everything. And then it's just like, so the kids growing up will just think of him, oh, there's the money guy. . . or I was thinking of putting him on the $1 billion bill. And that way, we can [use it to] pay off the interest on our debt every year.


'Hardball with Chris Matthews' for June 15 [MSNBC]

And while we're on the subject of dating ...

The Date called this evening. He said that he had a great time last week, and that he had heard about the results of the weekend on the news. He also mentioned that he knew I was headed to Atlantic City to follow her all the way, because that's just the kind of friend I am. He then asked when he could see me again. Finally, he left his number so I could return his call and hung up.

That's right, I didn't answer the phone. I didn't want to deal with it tonight. I've been doing such a lot of soul searching today, that I wasn't in the mood to think about being with someone other than The Usual Suspect. I think that I still have that wistful glimmer of hope that things will work themselves out soon, however misguided that glimmer of hope may be.

Confronting the cold reality that I'll likely never get the chance to have another child really made me think a lot today. I always wanted at least two children, and it's fairly apparent that I won't get to realize that dream.

I'm going to take an Excedrin PM and go to bed - maybe I can sleep this off.

Tab A Into Slot B.

As a young woman, I had this holistic vision that I would have this perfect life, with the perfect husband, the perfect career, and 2.2 children. You know, the American dream! Well, I was well on my way to it, and then all hell broke loose. Apparently, I wasn't meant to have the perfect husband, or 2.2 children. Let me explain the onset of this tirade.

R and I had a discussion today about some friends we had met on our trip to Aruba. They, after several rounds of IVF, are ready to welcome their first child in mid-July. Somehow, the conversation derailed into how I would not want to know the gender of the baby, if I was lucky enough to ever have another child. He remarked that he was "sure" I would have another child, and I mentioned that I would much rather raise my daughter alone if I couldn't have what I wanted. And then I said the phrase that so many women utter throughout their lives: I HATE DATING. See, "hate" is a word that I just don't use. I think its connotations conjure up mental pictures of horrible people and things. Hate, to me, is a very very strong word. And I hate dating.

Dating, to me, is not unlike a pageant interview. You have your pretty little woman, smashed into an outfit and shoes that she would NEVER purposely wear for comfort's sake (but it sure does look good), standing tall in front of a person that is forced to make a snap-judgement call upon them. During the course of the interview (errr, date), you take the conversation and guide it how you want it to be. You steer it away from topics that are not your strongest suit, and try to keep the conversation moving to the point where you have command and control over it. After the allotted time, you thank them for their time, and you walk away with your head held high to show your confidence level. Then, after getting out of sight and earshot, you collapse and begin to overanalyze your performance. And that's what it is: a performance. Come on now, do you really think that there would be a second date if I showed up to a first date with my hair all screwed up, wearing my favorite yoga pants and a circa 1997 sorority formal sweatshirt? You put on this front of your "best self", to make a good impression, and hope that your score corresponds with a "win".

All of this comes back to the bottom line: if you don't date, you have very little chance to have a child. Without denigrating into a "how babies are made" speech, if there ain't no "tab a into slot b", then there ain't no baby. Unless you go the sperm bank route. And that's not my idea of a good time. But hey - a turkey baster would have significantly less drama than a real live man, after all ...

Discriminatory Practices.
Also known as: The Demi Moore Phenomenon.

As a raving liberal, I often find myself far on the left hand side of most people's fences. Apparently, for once, I share a view that some of the mainstream media actually mentions quite often. I find the discrimination against single women terrible. More specifically, I abhor the term "tadpoling".

This recently came up in conversation with Gal-Pal and I, along with my mom. Why is it socially acceptable (and actually quite celebrated) for men to continually date women as much as 30 years their junior (reference: Jack Nicholson and Lara Flynn Boyle), but if a woman dates someone that's younger than they are, it's scandalous? Demi Moore has been the butt of many jokes for her relationship with Ashton Kutcher, but no one bats an eye at Paul McCartney marrying Heather Mills. In fact, so many people think it's an incredible love story!

ABC News had a great piece on this social discrimination phenomenon, as well as the fun site Dating And Hand Grenades (which I highly recommend ... if you have never read any of Che's columns, you are missing out).

I have been on both sides of a age-challenged relationship. During my freshman year of college, I dated a man that was 28. I was 18. It went no farther than a few episodes of Seinfeld and a beer or two (and one innocent kiss), but as he was an upstart attorney, just graduated from law school and passed the bar ... I think that his firm frowned on the relationship. After graduating from college, I dated a very sweet guy. I was 22, he was 17. Really, it was nothing more than a summer fling, but I still get the "Mrs. Robinson" jokes from time to time about it. I think that it takes a very special man to keep up with me, regardless of his age.

Can I get a witness?

Expand Your Vocabulary.

Gipperporn: n. 24/7, 500-channel media coverage of Ronald Reagan's death and state funeral.

SOURCE: http://www.wonkette.com

The dreams of a million girls
Who are more than pretty
May come true in Atlantic City

A photo of me with the new Miss Ohio! I'm wearing a plastic tiara with pink maribou trim. She is, obviously, wearing a coveted Miss America State Crown and a stunning Claire's Colllection gown. Amanda was our local winner two years ago, and we are so proud of her! We always knew she would be Miss Ohio ... and now she's on her way to being Miss America!



And here's a photo of MAV with a friend at Miss KY ... she's the brunette on the right.

There she is ...

Links to follow to check out Miss Ohio week. Pay attention to the ladies with the initials of AB and JD, as they are our "girls". JD is our current winner, and AB is our winner from two years ago ... and dare I say it ... the "frontrunner".

http://www.missohio.org - The Miss Ohio site. Updated with press releases and the like each night. Click on "Pageant Week" on the menu on the left.

http://www.mansfieldnewsjournal.com - the local newspaper. Will be updated with stories and photos every morning.

http://www.wmfd.com - the local TV station. You can actually watch the pageant being webcast. It starts at 7 on W-Th-F and 7:30 on Saturday. I strongly suggest getting on there early, as they have a finite amount of connection ports - and when they are gone, they're gone.

http://www.voy.com/49686/ - The Unofficial Ohio Message Board. The people can be a little harsh, but the info is reliable and good. It's Ohio's version of Television Without Pity.

Also - in Kentucky. Please keep an eye out for my beloved MAV. Miss KY (heh heh ... she said KY) is the same week as Miss Ohio this year, and I am unable to attend to support her. Surf over to http://www.misskyscholorg.com for their updates.

Back in the saddle, lookin for a little affection
I took a shot as a contestant on the Love Connection

So. I went on a date. It was nice. We went to Bar Louie for a Martini. You know what kind.

We arrived at 6:30, and finally realized that I had to go home and pack at nearly 9. Conversation was nice, and I had a nice time. Will I go out with him again? Likely. Was "the spark" there? I don't think so. It wasn't that jolt of electricity that I have felt before, that simmering chemistry that makes me stand up and say "THANK GOD you came into my life!" This has only happened one time in my whole entire life. You know when.

I don't know if I'm really ready for anything other than very very very casual though. My heart has really been through the shredder, and I don't know if I'm in the frame of mind to let anyone in again. I guess that I am just looking to fill a spot in my heart that really can only be filled in one way, by one person. You know who.

It's Miss Ohio week, so I'm going to sign off till Sunday. Princess will be with me tomorrow and Thursday night. Gal-Pal arrives on Friday, and I'm looking forward to a great weekend of fun and debauchery with her. I'll pop on tomorrow from work (working a half day) to check email and respond to any comments, but then it's "lights out" after noon. See ya soon - I'll be wearing a pink carnation.

TUESDAY. IS. CHOOSEDAY.



either leave your answers or a link to your webpage with your responses. my answers are in the comments section below.

Would you rather:
1. wear the same underwear for a week OR not bathe for a week?
2. eat a plate full of boiled earthworms, covered in gravy OR fried bird feet with a tangy teriyaki glaze?
3. drop your wallet and keys in a thick patch of cacti and have to dig in to find them OR play dodgeball naked?
4. get caught spitting in your boss' coffee OR mooning your neighbor?

It's raining men, hallelujah.

For once in a really long while, let's talk about one of the things that makes me smile. No no, not handbags or shoes ... boys. I'm inspired after re-reading last night's long entry. Shall we discuss what makes your fair Martini tick?

1. Smile. Nice even teeth, and a honest and real smile. I'm weird, I know - I have this thing for teeth. Still a favorite smile: Jason Biggs.

2. Self-Assurance. It takes a hell of a man to keep up with a woman with a resume like mine. I'm not cocky about what I've done in my life, but some men can be intimidated by a former model and beauty queen (it is NOT a pageant, it's a SCHOLARSHIP PROGRAM thankyouverymuch). Add in the fact that I'm very career oriented, and most men get a little turned off by that.

3. Eyes. Preferably blue. Mind you, I'm not hooked on a specific color, but they must sparkle appropriately, with a tiny taste of that ornery "I'm the one your momma warned you about". Current favorite eyes: Paul Walker.

4. Sense of humor. I love a good sarcastic sense of humor. Not completely obscure-sarcastic, but bare minimum he should be able to keep up with Fark and the site formerly known as Tucker Max (which should be back as soon as Tucker gets off his lazy ass and gets the server back up and running again). A man that thinks Adam Sandler is funny is certainly a top contender in my book as well.

5. Project and Time Management skills. I need someone that can keep up with my bizarre ADHD-like thought process. I usually have about fifty projects in the pipeline at a time, and I need a man that can tolerate my scatterbrain-ness (is that a word?). Although it is indeed part of my charm, it's something that some people just can't stand.

6. Boyish charm. I find men that have just a *touch* of shyness are the most endearing. You know the type - raucous while out with the boys, but will blush when you "accidentally" brush his hand across your exposed skin, or catch him staring at you while you're pulling your hair back from your face. These are hard to find, a rare treat, as most of the "men's men" are total pricks when with a woman too.

In short, I don't want a man that will smother me. Been there, done that, not fun. I don't want a man that will ignore me and treat me like I don't exist. Been there too. But isn't there a nice happy medium out there - respect, courtesy, sarcastic sense of humor, and a great smile all in one? Ah yes, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the incredibly adorable Mike Valpredo is taken. (Betcha thought I forgot all about my favorite morning show host! LOL)

Tomorrow (after my usual morning show routine, of course) I have a major presentation. Then, I'm on the downslide till I get to leave. I have plans tomorrow night. I think I will suggest meeting for coffee, as I'm not ready for dinner. Because, well, as we ALL know what happened the LAST time I agreed to go out to dinner with a man (reference: January 13th entry). ha ha

Till tomorrow ...

I Love A Parade.

There have been many interesting little tidbits of news to share in the past weekend. Let's go chronologically, shall we?

I got the Princess from R's mom on Friday night, and we were off. Shortly after arriving at my mom and dad's house, I remembered why I don't live "on the farm" anymore. See, they have well water. And apparently, it requires a nice loooooong pipe to go down into the well. And when it splits, because it's 30 years old, you don't get to have running water in the house. Do you know how hard it is to have a toddler running about without running water? Yikes. Luckily, my dad is really a "rain man" type with all things mechanical, and after spending $70 at Home Depot (Saturday morning) and about 4 hours later, he had it up and running again.

Saturday was spent running around, and getting my smoothie fix at Robek's. You know, it's pretty sad when your 21-month-old can say "WHOA-BECK'S! Schamooooooothie!" Saturday evening, I exploded at my mother. She is really overwhelmed right now with her lack of health and energy, and my dad's continual obsession with running the local youth softball league (hell, that's a drama in and of itself). And here I thought pageants were loaded with dramatic bullshit ... hmmm. I darn near picked up and left their house on Saturday night because I was so sick and tired of all the arguing. Yet another reason that I don't live at home. My mom and dad are trying to get me to move "home". As I've written before, I have no desire to move back "home". I don't really know where "home" is anymore, but it's certainly not there.

Today was the famous (infamous?) Miss Ohio parade. Before we left, Princess managed to dump an entire 1.5 oz. (a "blockbuster" size) bottle of Beautiful over her head. She smelled like a French whore. No offense intended to the French. Or whores. But good Lord, my kid STUNK. Mom was really less upset about it then I was. Maybe because I'm a single mom, and I get one bottle of perfume a year - I gotta make it last.

Anyhow, on to the parade. It actually was kind of, as Z says, "BUSTED". Don't misunderstand me, my favorite girlies all looked wonderful, and I yelled really loud for them. But I suppose that when you only have 21 contestants, the size of the parade really dwindles. I remember the days of having to stake out your spot on the route at 8:00 AM, or you wouldn't be able to see any of the 2-3 hour long parade. Well, today we arrived at 1:00 to a pretty empty route. We didn't really get the whole "experience" like we used to, as the whole parade was only like, 40 minutes long. :::sigh:::

Sweet little Princess had no less than NINE suckers. OK, so she didn't really eat all nine, she ate about half of each sucker, so I suppose mathematically, she only consumed about 4.5 suckers. She also had about 3 bit-o-honeys, and two tootsie rolls. Needless to say, she was sticky from head to toe. I let her go to her daddy's house for an extra nigh, because his mom's still in town from TX (till Tuesday). I've been really overwhelmed lately, so I am relishing the down time. Besides, I really need a shower. I'm kinda crunchy. When I dropped her off, they were outside waiting for me to arrive. She didn't want to leave my arms, but then she jumped on R and didn't want to let him go. This has got to be hard on her. And R's super-hot friend (hey man, I'm not married anymore, it is perfectly acceptable for me to comment on how attractive I think he is) was there, but ignored me. It felt weird, dropping my daughter off at what used to be my house, with our friends, etc.

Oh and when I checked in to get my badge from the Miss Ohio staff today, it was proudly emblazoned with my name. MY MARRIED NAME. I debated raising a stink about it, but finally I did. The business manager was apologetic, but the sheer sight of it just ruined my day. I'm just hoping that they remembered not to include my married surname in the program book or I'm really going to be pissed off. It's not that I hate it or anything, it's just that the harsh reality of it continually is in my heart, but I didn't want to stare it in the face during the one week that I shouldn't have to.

Anyhow, off to watch the super hacked-up (no pun intended) version of Hannibal that USA is airing. I was less than thrilled at the original bastardized version of the wonderful Thomas Harris novel, but I'm sure "editing it for time and content" will further ruin a wonderful literary experience. I really do like Julianne Moore as Starling, but no one can fill Jodie Foster's sensible shoes and L'air Du Temps.

News of note (as I am indeed, a current events maven):

J-Hoe got married. Again. Stop the presses. If I wasn't afraid of what sweet little Ben Affleck had caught from that slut, I would marry him. He's a cutie and a half.

Speaking of cutie and a half ... Hugh Jackman is hosting the Tony's tonight. He is so tasty. I think that Sean Combs got the shaft by not being nominated. He was only excluded from the nominations because I think that the theatre community is not ready for that sort of a person/performance. He really showed a lot of class by assisting Phylicia Rashad in presenting tonight, though. IMO, he should have rehearsed his lines and NOT worn those stupid glasses.

God speed, dear Gipper. Although I have made it abundantly clear that I am a raving liberal, I think that Reagan's presidency was one of the most telling events that shaped American foreign and domestic policy. It also changed the way most people perceived leadership and government forever.

Oh and regarding the nice guy I've been conversing with - he had tickets to the local golf tournament all weekend (his company pays for he and a spare to go each year as an "entertainment" expense), so I haven't heard from him since Friday AM. 9:30 update - I just got off the phone w/ him, have a date on Tuesday nite. We agreed to speak again tomorrow night to set up the details of such. Now, to pick out something great to wear ...

I'm constantly reminded of how much I hate dating, because of all of these mindless games and constraints. The vast majority of my heart really just wants my life back, but my head knows that it's time to move on and stop waiting for R to grow up. So, here goes nothin.

Blah Stupid Blah.

I'm due for one of those patented Martini-brand super feminist rants. You know ... all the good ones are married or gay ... are there any decent men out there ... blah stupid blah. I know there are (have I mentioned that I have been conversing with a very nice guy lately?), but it's a vital part of the feminine mystique to always question the validity of each relationship.

There are days like today that I get annoyed with the fact that I live alone. Yeah, there are days that I relish the freedom that being single has to offer: peanut butter sandwiches and beer for dinner, an entire evening spent surfing the web, or a blissful two full hours spent at the driving range with my beloved 3-iron. But then, there are days like today that I'd really really like to have someone to share them with.

Today was a great day. I was informed that I am a "rising star in the firm" by a very powerful person. In front of his direct reports. This made me feel great. Then, an idea I've been working on for our team ... and it will be rolled out to our entire division. That's almost 1,000 employees that will see my idea, endorsed by Senior management. I've always been a very driven woman, particularly when it comes to my career. I went through a period of "I don't know what I want to do", and I think I've found my niche in risk management. My work ethic has completely returned, as it is apt to do when I am happy with what I'm doing. I am focused again, and it feels really exciting to be part of something great again.

But then, I came home, alone, to an empty house. You really don't understand the magnitude of a marriage until it's not in your life. The ebb and flow of each passing day really takes its toll on you when you are alone, and you don't have the chance to share it with someone else. A second set of shoulders to lighten your load, if you will. Don't misunderstand me, Salem The Super Cat is great and all. He's the best man I know right now. But he sure doesn't keep me all that warm at night. And he's a little too hairy for my tastes.

This weekend, I'm headed up to mom and dad's on Friday and Saturday night. Then to the Miss Ohio parade on Sunday. My Princess will be with me, so I suppose that everything will be all right ... starting tomorrow.

It Is Tough Being a Republican

It is very tough to be a Republican in 2004, because somehow, you have to believe concurrently that:

1. Jesus loves you, but shares your deep hatred of homosexuals and Hillary Clinton.

2. The United States should get out of the United Nations, but our highest national priority is enforcing U. N. resolutions against Iraq.

3."Standing Tall for America" means firing your workers and moving their jobs to India.

4. A woman can't be trusted with decisions about her own body, but multi-national corporations can make decisions affecting all humankind without regulation.

5. Being a drug addict is a moral failing and a crime, unless you're a conservative radio host. Then it's an illness and you need our prayers for your recovery.

6. The best way to improve military morale is to praise the troops in speeches, while slashing veterans' benefits and combat pay.

7. Group sex and drug use are degenerate sins, unless you someday run for governor of California as a Republican.

8. If condoms are kept out of schools, adolescents won't have sex.

9. A good way to fight terrorism is to belittle our long-time allies, but then demand their cooperation and money.

10. HMOs and insurance companies make profits and have the interest of the public at heart.

11. Providing health care to all Iraqis is sound policy. Providing health care to all Americans is socialism.

12. Global warming and tobacco's link to cancer are junk science, but creationism should be taught in schools.

13. It is okay that the Bush family's "Carlisle Group" has done millions of dollars of business with the Bin Laden family.

14. Saddam was a good guy when Reagan armed him and Rumsfeld reassured him he was our buddy, a bad guy when Bush's daddy made war on him, a good guy when Cheney did business with him, but then a bad guy again
when Bush junior needed a prop for his re-election campaign as the "war president".

15. A president lying about an extramarital affair is an impeachable offense. A president lying about WMD existence, to enlist support for an unprovoked,
undeclared war and occupation, in which thousands of soldiers and civilians die, is, somehow, solid "defense" policy in a "War against Terrorism".

16. Government should limit itself to the powers named in the Constitution, which should include "banning gay marriages and censoring the Internet".

17. The public has a right to know about Hillary's cattle trades, but George Bush's Harken Oil stock trade should be sealed in his Daddy's library, and is
none of our business.

18. What Bill Clinton or John Kerry did in the 1960s was of vital national interest but what Bush did in the '80s is irrelevant.

19. Trade with Cuba is wrong because the country is communist, but trade with China and Vietnam is vital to a "spirit of international harmony".

20. Affirmative Action is wrong, but that it is OK for your Daddy and His friends (here and in Saudi Arabia) to get you to graduate from Yale without studying much, to dodge the draft in the Texas Air National Guard, to bail out your company Harken Oil and the Texas Rangers, to get the Governorship of Texas and then to have the Supreme Court appoint you President of the USA.

21. You are a conservative, but it is OK to spend like there is no tomorrow and run up deficits that your grandchildren will have to pay, while at the same refunding as much tax money as possible to rich people who do not need it.

This illogical behavior can take a toll on a healthy mind.

So if a friend of yours has been acting a bit dazed and confused lately, be
nice: he or she may be a Republican!

What's On your porch Right Now?

My beloved grill, a table and chairs set (complete with umbrella), and my fun little butterfly patio lights . Usually, there's a little princess sitting out there with her "colors" (chalks) drawing on the sidewalk, too!

The Thunder From Down Under.

Miss Australia won Miss Universe tonight. Miss USA (side to Miata: "COULD SHE BE ANY FREAKING HOTTER?!?"), a former Miss Missouri in Miss America (but with a new nose and a much bigger rack) was first runner up. I had Australia picked from the get-go tonight, her gown was the shit. I even picked up the phone and called my mother to tell her to tune in to see it(she's at a sleep clinic for an overnight study).

Anyhow, she's a stunner, that's for sure. And get this - among her many prizes, Miss Universe receives a very pricey chandelier. What the hell is she going to do with a $10,000 chandelier? Sheesh.

Back to work with me tomorrow. Princess was sick today, so I played hooky to take care of her. It was really nice to just hang out and do nothing all day with her! We watched lots of Noggin, and played with every toy she owns. I don't get her back till Friday now, but that's OK. It's going to take me a minimum of that long to rectify the destruction that has been wreaked on my formerly clean house. I'll work three days this week, then it's parade weekend. Princess loves parades! My mom is coming to stay with me on Monday and Tuesday. I work Monday, Tuesday, and half of Wednesday next week, then off to Miss Ohio. We're checking into our hotel on Wednesday afternoon, and they have a pool. Princess will love it. She's going to the pageant Wednesday and Thursday night, and then I drop her off at the sitter's on Friday ... but only after I pick up Gal-Pal from el aeropuerto. I have my favorites for Miss Ohio this year, but I have a sinking feeling that the judges will do something dumb yet again, and send someone not ready for(or worthy of) the Miss America Pageant. Surf on over to the contestant website, and tell me your pick in the comments section below!

TUESDAY. IS. CHOOSEDAY.


either leave your answers or a link to your webpage with your responses. mine are in the comments section below.

Would you rather:
1. be trapped in a room for an hour with 15 scorpions OR one rabid dog?
2. grow hairy palms OR go blind?
3. be addicted to alcohol OR gambling?
4. save an old lady from a flood OR a dog from a fire?