The Girly Adventure

Mr. Curls Moves On

2011-08-27T13:11:00.002-06:00

When I ended things w/Mr. Curls, I was sad for a couple of days. Then, I wasn't. I felt relieved and freed. I felt very, "Ah, that's better." It grew clear to me how much the relationship had been stressing me out and how much we really didn't have in common.

Mr. Curls called me the night we broke up. I didn't answer. Then he e-mailed me. The next day, he called me at work. After a couple of days, I flat out told him that we needed to not talk to each other for a few months.

Last weekend, he called. I didn't answer. His voice mail was something to the effect of, "We haven't talked in a while and I just wondered how you're doing." I played the conversation out in my head and realized there really wasn't any good way for it to go.

Option 1: "I'm doing great!" = He's offended & it rubs salt in the wound of the break up.
Option 2: "I'm having a hard time" = Open door for him to try and talk me back into the relationship. I refuse, we have an argument, nobody wins.

The day after I got the call, I told my friend Jenny about it. She looked me in the eye and said, "Don't call him back." Amanda called. I told her about it. She said, "Don't call him back." So, going with my gut as well as the input of two good friends, I didn't call him back.

Today, I saw that Mr. Curls had un-friended me on Facebook. How do I feel about it? Relieved. I'm taking it as a sign that I officially don't have to worry about him any more.

BTW: I have a bet with myself that Mr. Curls will be in a new serious relationship by Christmas.

Sex + DD

2011-08-24T21:06:00.002-06:00

Here's the problem when you start talking about DD: A lot of people look at adults with DD and treat them like children. In their minds, an adult with developmental disability isn't really an adult.

Here's the problem when you start talking about sex and DD: The people mentioned above totally freak out.

Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of people who are very matter-of-fact about the topic. Plenty of people who recognize that pretty much everybody who has genitals wants to take them out for a spin every now and again.

By the way, did you know that we have evidence of fetuses masturbating? Bottom line, folks, you're playing with your junk before you're even born.

When I set out to do a sex ed class, I ventured into this controversy of perception of people with DD, issues of informed consent, and issues of liability. And here, I thought it was just a matter of blowing up condoms and talking about fertilizing eggs.

Enter: The Policy.

Let's Talk About Sex Bab-ee!

2011-08-19T14:44:00.004-06:00

Okay, so enough with the pity part. It's time to talk about sex.

If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be gearing up to teach a sex ed class, I would have laughed at them. Me teach sex ed? Puh-lease. I blush at the drop of a hat. I blush so hard, I practically glow.

And yet...

It started out innocently enough. Part of our responsibility (as per the rules and regs) where I work is to provide sex education to our clients. I was curious, so I asked what we did to meet that requirement and the response was, "Glad you asked. That sounds like a great project for you."

Since I was still new to working with people with developmental disability, I asked to have a few of the agency's more experienced staff work with me so I could get their perspective. The first time I met with the group that was picked out for me, I went through half a dozen shades of pink and red as I explained what it was we were going to do. Here I was, sitting in a room with a handful of people I barely knew (or had literally just met) talking about sex. Definitely a first for me. Little did I know, that was going to be the easy part.

Writing Letters to the World

2011-08-18T19:30:00.000-06:00

I rejoined my writers group last month. For a number of months, I've been feeling a bit of writer burnout, but I decided I had to do something other than sit there and not write.

Lately, I've been writing letters to a friend of mine (not the long-standing penpal). Then, this weekend, I wrote a short story from start to finish pretty much in one sitting. I'm not sure if it was rejoining the group or writing the letters, but I think my block has knocked loose.

Now I'm blogging again, too.

In the grand scheme, I'm feeling lonely and frustrated right now. The good point, though, is isolation and frustration are great for getting words down on the page.

The Melancholia

2011-08-17T18:59:00.004-06:00

I'm glad I took my job and I don't regret the decisions I've made while doing it - not even the decision to take on a 2nd job in addition to my primary job (and, BTW, I really, really dislike the 2nd job). But, I've done what I came here to do and I've taken the job as far as I can given the constraints of the position.

Now I'm feeling the ceiling pressing in and I'm getting more and more frustrated with the politics - the place is very compartmentalized/cliquey. I've never been one of the popular kids and this job is feeling too much like high school for my taste. And, in the past couple of weeks, I've been personally let down by some of the higher ups in the organization. I don't want to be here any more. I decided, going into this job, that I'd stay here for 1-2 years. The 24th is my one year anniversary. This job has run its course.

I know exactly where I want to be. I want to leave this little backwater and move to the city I've spent so much time in. That's the city that made my parents move to this state (though, they've never actually lived there). It's beautiful. It's big enough to have cool stuff going on. That's where my writer's group is. That's where one of my best friends has moved to. That's where I want to be.

It's not where I am.

I'm in a little town, far, far away from the people I want to be with. I'm isolated, frustrated, and wrestling with self doubt. I've been in a funk for a couple of weeks. Try as I may, I can't seem to pull myself out of it.

On the bright side, I've decided that this weekend I'm going to ditch this town and either go visit my parents or go a bit farther (to the city I want to move to) and hang out at the penny arcade with a friend. I'm hoping the change in scenery will lend itself to a change in mood.

The Worst of the Four Letter Words

2011-08-16T17:35:00.005-06:00

I wrote a story for my thesis that's about a man who essentially sews himself back together after his life crumbles. Stitch, by painful stitch, he slowly becomes whole again. I wrote the story because I feel like him a lot. Bits of thread and sheer faith that I won't fall apart.

Some days, it works better than others. There are times, whole months in a streak, where I don't even see the stitches. Lately, I'm feeling more threadbare.

I ended my relationship with Mr. Curls, but that was a good thing. In the end, he was still repeating the same patterns of thought and action that led to all the drama in his past. He thinks he's changed, but he hasn't. For a few days after the breakup, I was sad. That part didn't last long, because the relief was stronger. But, now, I'm left thinking about how, in the past five years, I met exactly one guy who liked me and I liked him back. Five years. What's wrong with me?

When I took my current job, I planned to be here for 1-2 years. Now that I'm a week away from my one year anniversary, I know that plan was the right one. I've grown claustrophobic. My search for a new job has so far yielded one, "We want you to come in for an interview, but we're still working out when," and half a dozen either outright, or implied, "Thanks, but no"s. What's wrong with me?

On Friday, my doctor sliced into my back, cut out a piece of me, and then put about a dozen black stitches into my skin to sew me back together. I'm in the mood to run. I'm a terrible runner, but the exercise eases my mind. With the stitches, it's painful to wear a regular bra, much less a tight sports bra. So, it's just me and the thread in my skin and the waiting.

I wait, and wait, and wait...

Colposcopy Results

2010-09-20T20:25:00.002-06:00

Got a call from the doctor's office today. My colposcopy results came back okay, though they're going to have me come in again in six months. It's a relief, for sure.

Job Interview, Again

2010-09-10T20:15:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, I got a phone call from the school where I used to teach. Over the summer I applied for a part time job there as the coordinator of the online writing center. After nearly three months, they called me to set up an interview. Too bad for them that I already have a new job.

I felt just the slightest twinge at the missed opportunity, then I reminded myself that the job was only part time and would have required me to continue adjuncting which would mean a huge workload (the coordinator job, plus three classes to plan, prepare for, and grade papers from) and lots of BS all so I could make about $1,000 a year more than what I'm making at my new job. The writing center job would have made me eligible for benefits, but my new job has better benefits, and when I move I'll have lower living expenses. In short, the new job's still a better financial deal overall. Also, among other things, this job is a change of scenery, both in terms of work and location and I was craving that.

Anyhow, the interview request was good for my ego. Having to turn them down because someone else already snatched me up didn't hurt either.

Long Distance

2010-09-08T20:07:00.002-06:00

My job continues, as do the long-ass days that go with it. The good news on that front is that I've pretty much got a place lined up that I think I'll like. It's itty-bitty, but it has a yard and is in the process of being refurbished. The only problem with the new floors, new plumbing, etc. is that it's not quite done yet. So, it'll be a nice little place, but I have to wait a couple more weeks before I can move in, which means the long-ass days continue.

I'm nearing the end of the part where I take all the company trainings as a new staff member/auditor. I've written up a lot of notes and I've started making plans about where I'll start and what I'll do in order to improve the training program. It's cool because I feel like I know what I'm doing and I feel like I can really make things better.

In the mean time, Mr. Curls went off to his new job on Monday. This is the job that's about four hours away from where I'll be living as soon as the itty-bitty house is done. But, on the whole I'm more excited about him having a job than I am disappointed about him going away to have it. I'd rather have a boyfriend far away and employed than one that's ten minutes away with no job, no place to live, and no vehicle to get around in. The long distance thing isn't ideal long term, but it means a longer term than our relationship would have had otherwise as it's September now and we're still together vs. my earlier decision that if nothing had changed by the end of August, I was going to be finished with this relationship.

The timing works out okay, though. I'm so busy with the new job that it provides great distraction from worrying about the future of my relationship with Mr. Curls. What will be will be, and until then, I've got stuff to do.

Colposcopy

2010-08-31T18:20:00.003-06:00

Today was the day. I got to the doctor's office, was taken to a room and told to strip down. The doctor who did the procedure was a new doctor who I'd never seen before. He was also a he. So far, all the medical professionals I've ever had look at the lady parts have been women. Nothing makes an uncomfortable vagina procedure better than having it done by a stranger. But, he was nice and professional and the whole thing was done quickly.

At the end, he said, "It'll be a few weeks before we get the lab results back. From what I can tell just by looking, I think we're looking at CIN1 or CIN2 cells."

"What does that mean?"

"CIN1 means we won't do anything yet. A lot of times the body will take of those on its own. CIN2 means you'll come back and I'll do a procedure to remove the abnormal tissue. If it was CIN4, that'd mean cancer."

Again with the waiting. But, at least it's not immediately scary.

First Week at the New Job

2010-08-30T21:26:00.003-06:00

Waking up at 5:30 a.m. is rough when you're used to waking up at 8:30 a.m. Driving almost an hour and a half to work and then almost an hour and a half to get home is also rough.

I've been pretty wore out this past week, but it's been a good week. The people have been nice and very welcoming. I think I'm going to like the job, and I may have a new place to live lined up.

It feels like this is what I've been working up to the past few years. It feels good to finally have a grown up job.

2010-08-20T13:28:00.002-06:00

Just when I thought this summer couldn't be any more of an emotional roller coaster, I got a call from my doctor. I missed the call last night and got short, and incredibly vague, message, "I need to speak with you about your test, please call me back."

My mind immediately went to worst case scenario mode and I had a hard time sleeping last night because of being stressed out.

This morning, I called the doctor's office. After a little bit of phone tag, I finally spoke with her around noon.

"Your pap smear showed abnormal results, so we're going to do a colposcopy." She explained what that was, and told me her nurse would give me a call to schedule the procedure. It was a pretty short conversation, but left me shaken up. The first thing I thought of was the history of cancer in my family. My dad's dad died from colon cancer. My mom's mom died from breast cancer. Neither was cervical cancer, but...

Now I'm waiting for the nurse to call so I can wait for the procedure then wait for the results after that. This sucks.

Mr. Curls was quick to say, "They're just checking. It doesn't automatically mean something's wrong. Until they say otherwise, don't worry." I really appreciate his support, because this is freaking me out. The worst part, as always, is the waiting.

Denied

2010-08-19T16:54:00.002-06:00

Mr. Curls decided to go back to college about one month before the beginning of classes. That meant he had a lot to do in a very short time. He filled out his FAFSA online, completed his application, got a copy of his high school diploma... and didn't check the minimum requirements for the one school he applied to.

Minimum requirement = 2.0 high school GPA

Mr. Curls never planned on going to college, so he spent a lot of time his junior and senior years focusing on work and goofing off. So, his high school GPA = 1.9

Classes start on Monday and Mr. Curls' application was declined. Today he contacted the community college (which has lower minimums) and was told it's just too late.

Oh, for fuck's sake. Now it's going to be spring before he can start taking classes. In this case, the reasons are 100% his fault, no bad luck to blame. First, his crappy GPA from when he screwed around in high school. Second, he didn't pay close enough attention to the application criteria, i.e. the part that says "You must be *this* smart to be a student," nor, if he saw that, did he take proactive steps like talking to someone in admissions about a possible exemption. Third, he applied to only one school. Fourth, he waited this long to decide that a college degree was something he needed.

Too little, too late, and now it's months more before he can get started. Things are not looking good for the continuation of our relationship. Though he was offered a job 3 hours away, they're still processing his paperwork and he doesn't actually have the job yet. The good news is that he found some part time work for the mean time, but it's not enough to be a solution.

His decision to go back to school was encouraging, as is the job offer. But, until he's actually taking (and passing) classes, until he's actually doing the job he's been offered... In light of recent positive developments, I'm willing to give this relationship a little more time, but the sand is running out of the hourglass.

It Ain't Lemonade

2010-08-16T22:42:00.003-06:00

Today I peed in a cup. Then I handed it to HR Gal so she could do a drug test. Good times.

I must say, I don't envy her that particular aspect of her job.

Drug test is done. There goes one more step toward the fancy new job. My official first day = next Tuesday, the 24th.

The Job Whirlwind (Part 2)

2010-08-14T20:04:00.004-06:00

During the drive home after the 2nd interview, my mind was a wreck. I loved the sound of the job. I liked HR Gal and I liked Boss Guy. It was easy to tell that I was on the same page as both of them in terms of how we like to get things done and how we tend to think. Along with the job comes good benefits and solid job security. Also, however, comes a pay scale well under the amount I considered to be my lowest acceptable range (and that's with me negotiating a pay rate at the top of the range they can offer for the position), even accounting for the area's low cost of living. Oh yes, and taking the job would require moving to a town of 8,000.

All of this kept racing through my head. With this, there was the consideration that taking this job meant not taking any other job. What if I would have gotten a better offer if with a few more applications? What if my $40,000 starting pay is two months away? Or, with this job, after a couple of years, I'd have some really awesome experience to put on my resume. Creating a position from scratch? That's badass.

I got a headache.

In the end, I had to go with my gut. Faced with this offer, what did I want to do?

Friday morning, I called HR Gal and took the job.

The Job Whirlwind (Part 1)

2010-08-13T19:39:00.003-06:00

Bright and early Wednesday morning, I woke up, got ready, and drove an hour and a half to get to my 10:00 interview. I was nervous. I was conflicted. Did I really want this job? Was this job really the right move? I kept warring with myself. But, the most important thing was to find out more about the job before I decided one way or the other. So, after an hour and a half drive, I let the receptionist know I was there and in a few minutes I met HR Gal, my potential new boss.

HR Gal was about my age, maybe a year or a couple years older. I immediately liked her and as the interview progressed (with a little hiccup at the beginning due to a fire drill) I realized that this job was right up my alley. The position title is Training Coordinator and it's a new position. So, I'd be relying on my teaching experience and building a whole position and program from scratch. A unique opportunity, to say the least. And it'd look awesome on my resume as I got further in my career. In short, I was sold. At the end of the interview, HR Gal told me that she really liked me for the job and that she would definitely be calling me back for a second interview next week. I told her I was on a time crunch and that I was available to come back as soon as possible for that second interview. That afternoon, she called. Could I come back tomorrow?

Thursday I met with HR Gal and Boss Guy. Boss Guy is pretty straight forward and very focused on doing whatever he has to do to get the results he wants. Among his goals for the organization, he wants to make sure that the organization is the most desirable employer in the area. One thing that means is that he puts a premium on treating his staff well and he's working toward creating excellent professional development. Both are plusses for me, especially since a training coordinator is integral for that second one.

At the end of the interview, Boss Guy asked me to step outside for a few minutes so he and HR Gal could talk. When they brought me back in, I expected them to tell me either that they were interested in me and would let me know their decision after they talked to the other candidates they were bringing in for interviews, or that, ultimately, they didn't think I was quite the right fit.

I came in and sat down.

"So," Boss Guy said, "we've decided to offer you the job."

She's Here!

2010-08-07T10:04:00.002-06:00

Last week, my wonderful penpal, Camii, and her new hubby moved. Now, instead of living 5 hours away, she lives 45 minutes away. I'm super pleased :) She moved for school and will be taking classes to get her M.A. in Psychology.

When they arrived, I drove over to help them unpack the UHaul. I must say, I didn't know just two people could have that much stuff. Between the three of us, we spent three hours hauling things from the truck to their second-floor apartment and got them all moved in. There was much talk of, "Screw this, the next time we're hiring movers" and "Wow, we need to get rid of more stuff."

Over the next couple of days, my body told me that all that lifting and climbing stairs was a really good workout. My calves were sore for three days after. I still have two bruises, one on my left bicep and one on my right thigh, from boxes. But, the pay off is well worth it. Now, for the first time in eight years, she and I can meet up for the odd cup of coffee or lunch. I love it :)

The Job, The Job

2010-08-06T18:26:00.002-06:00

Maybe you've noticed, but the current job market SUCKS. I've been trying to find a job for months, and my resumes and cover letters keep getting answered with... silence. You'd think I was a leper or something. Not a recent MA graduate with a 3.75 GPA and an assortment of good work experiences. I have a good resume and I've written some rockin' cover letters. *Sigh*

But, I've been staying focused on the idea that if I apply for enough jobs that I'm qualified for, eventually, by virtue of the numbers game, one of those companies will want me.

Last week, Mr. Curls was looking through the newspaper classifieds and pointed out an ad for a training coordinator in a town that's 60 miles away. I wasn't sure if I was really feeling it, but I can't get a job if I don't apply for jobs, so I filled out the application and sent it off via snail mail on Monday afternoon. On Wednesday morning, I got a call from the HR person asking if I could come in for a first interview on the 11th.

Life's funny. The first interview I get and it's for a job I applied for halfheartedly. But, the more I research the organization, the more I like the organization. The more I think about what my job would entail, the more I think it could be a really good fit for me. Right now, my main concern is about moving to a town with only 8,000 people in it. I'm not a big city girl, but that's awful little. Also, the town, as a whole, isn't doing so well economically. Is that really the place I want to uproot to?

On one hand, maybe this is the job I've been waiting for since April. On the other, maybe it'd be a bad move. At this point, the positives and negatives are pretty evenly balanced for me. If they offer me the job, I think, crude as it may be to say it, that the major deciding factor for me will be the pay. I've got some numbers in my head. There's the "nope" salary range, the "maybe" range, and the "oh yes," range. On the job posting, the pay is listed only as "Dependent on Experience," so I have no idea now the numbers they're thinking of will compare to the numbers I'm thinking of.

What I do know is that, all else aside, going through the interview will be good practice. Being called for the interview has been encouraging. Since I got the call for the interview, I've applied for seven other jobs. Sooner or later, something's bound to stick.

Bullet Points

2010-08-05T17:55:00.004-06:00

Lots of things have been happening lately.

1. Mr. Curls' trucking job fell through. He had his license suspended briefly a while back when he was unemployed because he was unable to stay current with child support payments. Thus, no trucking job because of the suspension. Yet another aspect of his past that looks bad.

2. Because he ended his lease and put his truck in storage with an auto pawn company in preparation for the trucking job, losing it means Mr. Curls is currently homeless and without transportation (except for my bike that I'm letting him borrow).

3. After months of sending out resumes and applying for any and all jobs I'm qualified for, I finally got a call for an interview. It's a job I think I could enjoy, but it's about sixty miles away and in a town that's quite small - population 8,000. I'm not sure whether or not that's too small for me.

4. In light of everything that's been going on with Mr. Curls, and the general lack of having his life in order that all those things indicate, I made a decision. The decision is that, unless Mr. Curls does something to make a serious change in his life, the end of August is the end of the relationship.

5. Mr. Curls decided that after 15 years of choosing work over education, and with that working out so wonderfully for him, he's decided to go back to school and get his B.A. Today, he submitted his FAFSA and he's qualified for a Pell Grant.

6. On Tuesday, Mr. Curls traveled 160 miles to interview for a job. Today, he got the job offer. We've already talked about him taking the job. He's looking at schools in the area and planning how to do both work and school.

All things together, I think that between the job and the decision to go back to school, Mr. Curls' life is undergoing a pretty serious change. Most important to me is the choice to go to college. I put a premium on education and his decision to get his degree after so many years of being away from school is a great thing. It's also probably the single most important, life-changing decision he's made in the past two years that he's made for reasons other than doing what other people think he should do.

I like it. But, it's only the first step. Now he's got to sort out the move, get enrolled & registered for classes, and actually pass them. There's still a lot of action that needs to follow the decisions, but it's given me faith that this relationship will survive until September and that's a much better prognosis than I would have given last week.

Keep on Trucking

2010-07-11T09:56:00.003-06:00

I've not posted in a long time because I've been trying to figure some things out all my own and not much in the mood for making those thoughts public. Now, things have somewhat worked around to an equilibrium again.

Quick sum-uption: Mr. Curls lost his job in May and has been working hard to find another one since. Thanks to the tough economy, he's mostly had no luck. The situation has made me question our relationship - not because I'm enamored with money for its own sake, but because having some financial stability is way important to me and this is yet another hiccup in his employment history. Now, the last-ditch job option is taking a job with a trucking company. Yep, that's right, Mr. Curls is about to become a trucker. It's oh-so-glamorous, but the $ is serious enough that it'd be a big step for him to get some stability and save up enough within a year to do things like hire a lawyer to deal with his ex(es) situation and get that sorted out. Also, it would give him enough capital that he could quit the trucking job and use his savings to begin what he truly wants to do by going into business for himself.

We've talked about it a lot and talked about what it would/could mean for him and for us and while I can't predict exactly how it'll go, especially since the work schedule would limit his days off to about 3-4 a month, we're going to do our best to keep our relationship strong.

In the past couple of weeks, with everything else that's been going on, some of the tension in each of us has eased and my re-thinking of the relationship has come down on the side of understanding and wanting to do my best to make this work. Amanda, not surprisingly, expresses her doubts. My pen-pal expresses hope. They're both right.

I don't know how it's all going to work out. I have to make a decision based on what I do know. When I'm with him, I feel happy and loved and like I don't want to be with anyone else. In light of everything he's going through right now, I know that he's got few choices and that if I were in his same position, I would probably make the same choices he has. I know that our relationship may not last through him being so far away so much. I know that I want to try.

One way or another, things are going to work out. I don't know how, exactly, and that may very well mean that things work out by me and him going our separate ways. But, we'll take it one little bit at a time and see where we end up.

Losing My Phone Sex Virginity

2010-06-08T10:12:00.005-06:00

Last night, Mr. Curls called me after the boys were asleep.

"Hey sweetie," he said. "What have you been up to?"

I paused for a minute before I answered, because there was one thing in particular that I'd been up to not long before he called. "Oh a little of this, a little of that," I said. "Um, you know how you told me earlier that you wished I was there this morning?"

(During an earlier phone call, Mr. Curls had left the apartment for a couple of minutes to tell me he'd woken up with a bit of morning wood which had made him think about me, which hadn't helped the situation. Since the boys were already up and about, he hadn't felt right about taking matters into his own hands, even behind his locked bedroom door.)

"Uh huh," he said.

"Well, a little while ago, I was thinking about that, and I was in the kind of mood where it would have been really nice if you'd been here and naked. But, as it was, I had to take matters into my own hands."

"Oh really?" From the sound of his voice, I could tell he was smiling. "Why don't you tell me about that?"

From there, the conversation led to an interest I'd expressed in watching Mr. Curls jerk himself off. It's something I'd like to see, but something he's been too bashful so far to try. I decided he might feel less weird about it if he knew why I wanted to see it, and I told him there were a couple of parts to it. One: seeing him pleasure himself might show me a new thing to try the next time I was the one touching him. Two: there's a bit of a voyeuristic appeal there and since I don't have a penis, most of the ejaculations I've been around tend to happen inside me, so I can't really see what's going on. So, there's a definite curiosity motivation there.

After a while, as we continued to talk about sex, he said, "I really wish you were here right now. This conversation has gotten me in a certain frame of mind..."

"Are you in your room?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you on your bed?"

"Yeah."

"Are you hard?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm..." Since we had recently been talking about my interest in him masturbating, I mentioned there was a way to try it out a bit, maybe get him comfortable with the idea.

"Hmm..." he said. "I've never done that before."

"Neither have I." I was nervous about it. I wasn't sure what to say, or what to do. All I knew is that it seemed like the phone call was headed in that direction, and who am I to say "no" to a little experimentation?

"Am I going to be on my own here?" Mr. Curls asked. "Because, I think it'd be more fun if you were touching yourself too."

"I already am."

"Good."

It was an interesting experience to fly solo without exactly being solo. I got to practice being descriptive and using my imagination. Having his voice in my ear while I masturbated was pretty hot. I remained just a bit self conscious throughout, but in the good way that added a little bit of a thrill to it. There's something about phone sex that's just a little taboo to me, I'm not sure why, so it made me feel a little naughty.

This morning, I can't hardly even look at my phone without blushing.

Summer With the Boys

2010-06-07T09:08:00.002-06:00

Last Tuesday Mr. Curls' first ex called. The original plan was that Mr. Curls would take the boys Friday for them to spend the summer with him (save for alternating weekends when they'd be back with their mom). Instead, she asked him if he'd like to get them early, like, in an hour and a half.

Mr. Curls agreed, did a mad dash to get ready, and his ex brought the boys up early. It was a bit of a wrinkle in his plans, and since he'd just gotten a water bed that hadn't been... tried out yet, it was a bit of a wrinkle in mine. However, Mr. Curls doesn't get to spend as much time with the boys as he'd like to, and I like them, too, so no complaints.

This past week I've been playing games with the boys and I even found a set of poker chips on clearance for them, they're big fans of Texas Hold 'em. Also, we managed to try out the water bed after all by practicing covert, post-boys-asleep, shenanigans. Dunno how much I like the water bed for certain things, though the novelty is certainly fun.

The Big L

2010-05-31T10:29:00.002-06:00

The other night, Mr. Curls and I were lying in bed all cuddled up and snug. I had my head on his shoulder and I was thinking it'd be so easy to say it. It's just words. They don't need to be hard.

"You're quiet," Mr. Curls said.

"So are you."

"Yeah... I was thinking about a conversation we had a while back. One where we went in circles for a little while..."

"Mmm... that one," I said, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "I was thinking about that too." I winked at him. "Jinx."

He gave me a kiss. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about saying the words out loud. I was wondering what they'd sound like."

There was a pause where neither of us said anything, both of us trying to be brave enough to go for it. I took a breath and reached up to cover his eyes. Mr. Curls laughed, "Shouldn't you be covering your own eyes, you know, execution style?"

"Hush," I said, burying my face in his chest. I was trying to get the courage to say the words out loud, and maybe I had enough to say them, but I didn't think I was brave enough to say them and look him in the eye at the same time. I took another deep breath and whispered, "I love you."

Mr. Curls hugged me tight. "I love you," he said. I hugged him back, as tight as I could manage, not wanting to let go. Leap of faith, my friends. Leap of faith.

Mr. Curls' Dad

2010-05-25T15:02:00.002-06:00

This past week Mr. Curls' grandfather passed away. His grandfather's health had been in decline for a while and the death didn't come as a great surprise. However, even expected deaths are difficult. The one lighter side of it is that Mr. Curls' father came to town for the memorial service and to help take care of what needed taking care of.

I didn't go to the memorial, but I did meet Mr. Curls' dad the next day. We went to a diner to get some space from the rest of the family and ate pie while we chatted. It was funny to me to see the similarity in some of their mannerisms and ways of speaking. I definitely see the resemblance ;) I enjoyed it and knew I was okay in Mr. Dad's book when he told me, "It was wonderful to meet you. You are the best thing that's happened to my son in a very long time."

Photo Field Trip

2010-05-18T22:27:00.004-06:00

Today, I spent the morning getting caught up from spending two weeks out of town and I spent the afternoon with Mr. Curls. Now that I've had a couple of days to decompress from traveling, I was in a much better mood and we had a really lovely afternoon together.

A big part of our adventures today included driving all around town and out of it, doing some hunting for things for me to take pictures of for my photography club. I'm still getting the hang of my new camera and I've been less than thrilled with how it takes pictures in low light. I'm sure I can adjust the settings to make them come out better, but I haven't quite figured it out yet. It's a shame, too, I really like the elements and composition of this photo, but I'm not ecstatic about the photo quality.

On the bright side, I quite like the spot Mr. Curls took me to get the photo. We'll have to go back.

What's the Point of a Relationship? More Importantly, What's the Point of This One?

2010-05-18T11:24:00.004-06:00

Gosh, the past few posts have primarily been all about bashing Mr. Curls. It's enough to make one wonder why I haven't drop-kicked him out the door already. I mean, heck, it almost seems like I don't even like him at all. It's not that I don't like him, it's just that I'm worried. The worry has made me do a lot of thinking about my relationship priorities. Lately, between seeing my friend get hitched, traveling both with and without him, and talking to different people who're in relationships, I've spent a lot of time thinking about the nature of relationships. I mean, seriously, why are people in them?

Aside from a regular sex partner and somebody to hang out with, what's the point of romantic relationships? The hardest part is that there's no one set answer. I feel like a kid who's stumped on a quiz question and frustrated because each of the multiple choice answers feels like it could be right, but I have to pick which one's the best answer. I feel cheated like someone who's asked a riddle then denied the answer. The worst part is knowing that, ultimately, no one has it. Knowing that everyone's got to figure it out for themselves.

So, I've been trying to figure out what the point of me being in a romantic relationship is. What the heck do I want to be in a relationship for? I support myself, so it's not that I'm looking for a sugar daddy. I have a wonderful group of lovely friends, so it's not that I'm just lonely. I'm a stubbornly independent person, so I don't need some other person to define who I am. I've got vibrators, so I can manage plenty of orgasms without help. I have a dog, so it's not like I'm just looking for someone to make me feel safe or wanted.

It's easy to figure out reasons why a relationship might be more trouble than it's worth. It's harder to figure out reasons why one would be worthwhile.

I want someone to hold me
I want that someone to be the same someone who understands who I am
I want to be someone's favorite someone
I want to have a person in my life who chooses to become my family
I want laughter. Lots of laughter
I want to have someone in my life whose hug can make a crappy day brighten
I want someone to cheer me on
I want inside jokes that only the two of us laugh at
I want to know someone's got my back
I want someone who, by being in my life, makes my life better
I want to have someone I know I can trust
I want to feel like having this person pick me over all others means I'm amazing and special
I want love
I want loyalty
I want a certain kind of fierceness
I want the sound of a heartbeat beneath my cheek
I want to be amazed at how this person was a stranger once because I can never imagine my life without knowing them
I want a little bit of silliness
I want chilly days snuggled up under blankets watching the rain fall on the other side of the window
I want to go somewhere and be able to point at things, saying, "Wow, how cool is that?" and know that the person I'm talking to will think it's cool too

These things that I want are all so many things that are about how I want to feel and how I want to be treated. These are things I have with Mr. Curls. Yes, his life is totally messy right now. Yes, that stresses me out. But, in the end, I think taking the time to give him time to sort at least a chunk of that mess out before I walk out the door is worth it. I know I'm asking for trouble if I try and build a life with a guy who's just going to crash and burn again, but maybe he just needs some time to go in a new direction. I worry about the mess, but look at all I stand to gain. Isn't that worth a little bit of time?

The Wedding, The Ambivalence, The Problem, and Time

2010-05-17T22:02:00.005-06:00

A day after I got home from Florida, Mr. Curls and I were on the road to my penpal's wedding. A six-hour drive later, we arrived in my penpal's city and met up with her for dinner. Friday, she and I spent the afternoon together running some pre-wedding errands.

Saturday morning started out rough. I woke up feeling ill - delayed altitude sickness it turned out. Mr. Curls was real sweet about making a couple of runs, first for a bit of medicine for my nausea, second for a light breakfast. Still, I felt pretty bad the whole morning and most of the rest of the day. Awesome, lemme tell ya.

By wedding time, I was mostly okay again, but my mood was less than stellar. Add to that the excitement of a wedding and the emotions entailed, plus being at the wedding of one of my best friends with a date who's exchanged those same vows twice already, and, well... I was stressed. The wedding itself = beautiful and sweet. Going with Mr. Curls = "What am I doing?!"

He's so sweet to me and all kinds of nice things, but he's got so much drama in his life. I had a crisis. Here I was, watching my friend marry a guy she's crazy about and all I could think was how I couldn't picture myself tying my life to Mr. Curls' life that way. All I could think was, "This guy has too much mess. How could I ever marry him?" That thought quickly ushered in the follow up thought of, "Then what am I doing with him?"

I was tired, I felt sick, and my emotions were all akimbo. I was cranky during the drive home, despite my best intentions not to take out my stress on Mr. Curls, because I knew that a lot of what I was feeling about him had more to do with everything else going on than it had to do just with him. I apologized about the crankiness and was surprised when he understood where it was coming from - not every detail, but understanding that all the travel and close quarters had taken their toll. He wasn't excited about my bad mood, but he got why I was in it and let things be quiet for a time while I pulled myself out of it. The way he reacted was an unexpected relief and it reminded me that there are good reasons why I like him.

Today, I talked with Amanda. I told her about my worries about Mr. Curls. I told her that during the wedding I thought, "What am I doing with this guy?"

Amanda replied, "Oh, that just means you're going to break up with him. It's okay though. He was a good experience for you."

Then, of course, Mr. Curls tells me he's officially quit smoking. His last cigarette was five days ago and he's determined to stay off the cancer sticks. Then, today, he got fired (long story short, his boss is a dick who fired him for taking Thursday off, aka the day Mr. Curls requested off a month ago, got approval for, and then got told the paperwork was "lost" and that he had to work on his approved day off). Today, Mr. Curls came over and even though he was embarrassed to admit that he needed help, asked for my help on overhauling his resume. Then, even more significantly, when I told him we needed to redo his resume from scratch (the one he had was an unfocused, 5-page mess) he just nodded and said, "Okay, where do I start?" It wasn't easy for him and he was very uncomfortable being that vulnerable, but he did it because he knew he needed to do it. I tore his resume apart, helped him put it back together again, and he said, "Thank you" and meant it.

On one hand, I've come to the stark realization that Mr. Curls is something of a train wreck. He's well-intentioned and passionate and sweet, but his life, in short, is not in order. I'm not looking for a millionaire, but it is important to me that my Mr. Right has a fairly good grip on his life. Let's face it, right now, Mr. Curls doesn't. But, with a couple of things that have happened the past few days, maybe he's started to head in the right direction?

Today, I got to see Mr. Curls' work history. It's, well, spotty. A few months here, a year there, eighteen months at that other place. He says he knows it makes him look like a flake. He knows that's not a great thing, neither for an employer nor for me to see. He explains, he justifies, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, sure, the last few years could just be a run of bad luck. Fine. The thing is, I'm getting worn out with some of his talk. He over-explains. He complicates. He preemptively defends the things he's embarrassed about. All this chatter does him more harm than good and I'm just waiting and watching, tuning out the jabber and focusing on the action.

Between bad choices and bad luck, Mr. Curls has had a bad run. Whatever. There's a lot I can forgive about the past. It's the present, the future, that I'm most interested in. I'm conflicted in figuring out the present. On one hand, he's done some things lately that I'd classify as problematic. On the other, he's done some things lately that have been very positive. I just can't figure out which is more weighted.

I think I have to give this more time. I need to see if/how much he's learned from past mistakes and the only way to really do that is to see if/how he repeats them. Some time in the not-too-distant future, I foresee a talk regarding my concerns. The time is not now. I want to see how he handles the situation he's in now and see what that tells me.

All I know for sure is that, unless Mr. Curls gets some things in his life under control, I'm not optimistic about this relationship's lifespan.

Culture Clash

2010-05-09T22:14:00.003-06:00

Of late, I've been a bit conflicted about Mr. Curls. On one hand, he's got a lot of emotional qualities that I really like. On the other, well, it can pretty much be summed up with a recent conversation I had with my brother where I was talking about Mr. Curls' culinary skills. I described a dish he'd made (chicken over rice, topped with cream of mushroom soup) and how he'd been so proud about coming up with the recipe. When I mentioned that the recipe was on the side of the soup can, he responded, "Yeah, but I didn't look at the recipe that first time. I came up with it independently." He was very proud of himself. I was, to be honest, underwhelmed.

I told my brother, "The sad thing is, he thinks he's such a great cook and the truth is, he's not especially great. Yeah, he can cook, but Gordon Ramsay he is not. Except, that's not how he sees it."

One of Mr. Curls' qualities that worries me is an over estimation of certain abilities or accomplishments which, frankly, I'm not impressed by. I know that sounds harsh, which isn't how I mean it. It's more about him and I coming from very different backgrounds.

Mr. Curls' background = parents who got pregnant in high school to force their parents to allow them to be together. Mr. Curls' dad was a dad at 17, his mom never graduated high school, and his mom became a Jehovah's Witness when he was a kid. Growing up, Mr. Curls was told that, basically, college was out of his league, so between that mentality and getting married at 19 because he was about to be a dad, he never went.

My background = parents who dated for a couple of years, dated long distance, and the first time my dad proposed, saying, "and when you're my wife, you'll never work" (meaning it in a nice way), my mom turned him down because it was important to her to have her own career. My parents had me when my mom was 29 and my dad was 32. When I was a kid, my mom went to college and got her bachelor's degree while working and raising two kids. Growing up, college was always talked about in terms of "when" I would go to college, never if.

The bottom line is that even though Mr. Curls and I grew up in the same city, in a lot of ways, we come from different worlds. Things which, to me, are not newsworthy, are a big deal to him. On some things, I feel like we're just not on the same level. I know that sounds critical and snobbish, but I don't know how else to say it. One thing I keep coming back to is what a difference a college education can make. Having that BA or MA or PhD isn't the be all end all, not by a long shot, but there are certain ways of thinking that college teaches you.

In my composition classes, when I'm talking with my students about the ways the media influences us, when I'm talking about analyzing biases present in movies, newspaper articles, etc., their first reaction is often that I'm "over analyzing" it. A cigar is just a cigar, right? And yes, sometimes, it is. But, sometimes it's not. By the end of the class, at least a few students have had light bulb moments. For instance, sometimes they say, "Oh! Now I get why that commercial is using Jennifer Lopez as a spokesperson, it's 'cause she's scantily clad and the commercial is aimed at men!" Right? Right.

Mr. Curls has told me how, because he's had business experience and because he's so worldly, he can watch a commercial and immediately figure out who it's aimed at. He's impressed friends and family with this skill. He thinks it's cool that I get it, too. I think it's cool that he's figured it out on his own. But, the difficulty comes from the fact that his background, most of his social circle, is not on that level. So, he ends up feeling like big stuff 'cause he knows something they don't. Except, that in my perspective, that puts him on the level with an 18 year-old college freshmen. In his mind, he's on the top of the food chain. In my mind, he's just getting started.

Case in point, the showcase he was so gung-ho about. He was excited because the process was somewhat selective and because he felt like they just weren't picking everyone. Also, apparently, the $800 fee was low compared to other showcases he's heard about. At first glance, it seems promising. But that's skipping a couple of important analytical steps. One thing I always talk to my students about in terms of the motivations of political organizations, for instance, is "where does the money go?" With the showcase, it's put on by the scouting agency, which means the scouting agency is getting the money. Therefore, it's in their best interest to find a large number of people to attend it. They get the registration fee. That's how they get their money, not based on the number of people who actually get agents. So, there's one gigantic, flashing red light. Also, he talked about how he could get discovered, but that skips another important question - why would this be his chance? Yes, he'd be in front of agents, fine. But another important question comes up - if this is an effective way of finding an agent, then who are the actors who've been successful this way? What big names has this particular scouting agency found? What's their track record?

Mr. Curls was excited about the showcase because he felt like he'd thought about the situation critically. I'd say he thought about it more critically than many might, but not critically enough. He was so focused on "well, I asked this question that most people wouldn't, that means I know what I'm doing," that he missed the other, even more important questions.

Another thing I was talking with my brother about was Mr. Curls' far-sightedness. He has this tendency to focus so much on where he wants to be that he overlooks where he is. He has a plan to do real estate work. According to the plan, in 16 months, he's doing real estate. That's fine. But, what about next month? When he hurt his back, he was frustrated because it threw a wrench into his finances and he didn't have enough to go to the showcase (blessing in disguise, right?). His refrain, "but, if I hadn't hurt my back, it would've been fine." The thing is, unexpected things are, by nature, unexpected. I made a comment once about a job I applied for and how, if I got it, I'd spend a couple years living well below my means (i.e. my lifestyle wouldn't really change) because I'd be so focused on clearing away my student loans and building up a big savings buffer. He said, "Well, it's important not to live above your means, but why not live within them?" Well, because of things like back injuries or layoffs or whatever might come up that I can't anticipate.

His culture = you're doing really well if you can pay your bills every month.
My culture = you're doing well if you've got your own home, your car paid off, and a good sized retirement fund.

His culture = "You're marrying a gal you met four months ago? Cool, she seems nice."
My culture = "You're marrying a guy you met four months ago? Are you crazy?"

A lot of the time, the clash isn't so clear. Sometimes, though, it's blindingly so. This past week I've been in Florida, visiting my brother. It's the most time I've spent away from Mr. Curls since we met. I've been away from him, and spending a whole lot of time with my brother, who's an Air Force Lieutenant undergoing pilot training. Mr. Curls works for a trash company. I'm not saying a job or a college degree is the be all end all, but it does shape your world view. Being around my brother so much this week has emphasized how different my world is from Mr. Curls' world.

How much difference is too much difference? How much do Mr. Curls and I truly have in common? Is it enough? How much of my concerns are genuine? How much of my concerns are more about just adjusting to another person's perspective? My brother and I see eye-to-eye on so many things, but we were raised together, our nature and nurture are both the same and we've known each other twenty three years. Of course I'm on the same page with him. Mr. Curls is a whole other person, from a whole different background. Of course we're not going to be the same on everything. But, what is okay to be different on? Where does difference become conflict? I know part of my anxiousness just comes from being in a relationship with someone. I know part of my worry comes from being in a relationship with this particular someone. What I don't know is how the percentages work out - is it more about being intimidated by being close to someone, or is it more that we're too different for this to work? I'm so confused.

Pina Colada Brain Freeze

2010-05-06T12:35:00.002-06:00

On Monday, I turned in final grades for the semester. Tuesday I hopped on a plane and flew to Florida to visit my brother. Right now, while he's off doing pilot training, I'm sitting on the lovely screened in porch drinking a pina colada. Today, is a good day. I've got warm summer air, plenty of TV to watch on my laptop, and a whole lot of nothing in particular to do.

I'm having a lovely slacker vacation.

Thank the Lord

2010-05-02T09:51:00.004-06:00

The day after Mr. Curls contemplated selling his Jeep for the cash to go to a talent showcase, I got a call from him in the morning after he'd finished his physical therapy appointment. Among other things, we talked a little about the showcase.

"I've been thinking about it a lot," he said. I cringed and held my breath, anxiously waiting. "All things considered, I've decided not to go. It's just not financially sound for me right now."

Thank George it was over the phone, because I was practically doing my happy dance. All I said was, "I think you made a good call." What I was thinking was, "Hallelujah! There's hope for him yet!"

I'm super relieved that he decided to walk away from the showcase. I never had a good feeling about it and I very much believe he just cannot afford it. But, on the other hand, I'm not his mom and it's not my place to boss him around. I'm a part of his life, yes, but I'm not a part of his bank account. If things keep on going like they have and we get to the point where it's less about his finances versus my finances and more about our finances, then I'll certainly be more assertive. But, for now, that's not the case and he has to make his own decisions.

The fact that he made the "right" decision in this case is extremely reassuring. He may be a bit problematic in the judgment area, but he's not a total lost cause.

What Worries Me, Part Two

2010-05-01T09:42:00.003-06:00

Last night, he talked to me about it because he was trying to figure out what to do and wanted to talk it through. I reiterated what I'd said last week about the talent showcase - a long shot at best, and not something I put a lot of faith in. But, he really wants to do it because showbiz is his dream and he's all idealistic and naive about what, exactly, that would mean. I could tell him it's hard, even with an agent, but he'd tell me he's done hard things before. He ran his own company for a while, even though everybody in the whole world (almost) told him it'd never work. I'm nice enough to point out that if that business had really, really worked, he'd still be doing it. Right? So, instead, I talked to him about my friend's wedding.

One of my most awesome friends is getting married in May and I'd invited Mr. Curls to come with me. The wedding is far enough away that we're looking at some travel expenses and a few nights' stay somewhere. It's not super expensive, but it works out to a couple hundred dollars we'd each be pitching in. I told him that since he was in a money crunch, it might be a good idea for me to go on the trip alone, like I'd been planning to since before he and I met. I've known this trip was coming for a long time and I have money saved for it. Also, if I go alone, it'll actually work out to be cheaper for me.

His response was, "I can't do that. I already promised I'd go. I hate to break commitments." Which leads us to the other part of the problem where he spreads himself too thinly and then has to scramble to make it all work. Like, with the boys. I'm way fond of the boys, so I absolutely don't mean anything bad about them with this next part. When the boys visit, Mr. Curls tends to overspend on them. When they want to go out for pizza, Mr. Curls takes them out for pizza. When they want to go to a movie, Mr. Curls takes them to a movie. It's pretty basic stuff, really, but it adds up. The first time I met the boys, we all played mini golf - there went $50 bucks for about an hour and half of entertainment. Mr. Curls wants to make sure the boys have fun. He wants to spend quality time with them. It's not that he's trying to buy their affection, truly, it's just that he has a hard time saying "no." The problem is, he's too broke for that to work.

When my brother and I were kids, my parents said "no" to us all the time. Not because they were mean, but because they were broke. Going out to a movie in the theater was an indulgence, going out to eat at a restaurant (even a fast food restaurant) was a rare occurrence. My parents simply could not afford it. My childhood, instead, was filled with things like board games, picnics, and lots of time goofing around outdoors. I was not a deprived child, and my parents put a premium on spending quality time with my brother and I. We were happy kids even though our parents didn't spend a whole lot of cash entertaining us.

And, I absolutely believe that the boys would be perfectly happy if Mr. Curls threw less money at them. He's their dad. They love him because they love him. Yeah, they might whine a bit about not going to Subway for lunch, but if it comes down to the difference between Mr. Curls paying his bills or taking the boys to Subway, it's pretty straight-forward math. But, he doesn't see it that way. He sees it as a question of "doing right by them" and of being a selfless parent. While I don't disagree with his motivations, I think he lacks balance in how he fulfills those expectations. I mean, heck, the other night when I brought over some games, the boys were totally into it. Playing Jenga is a whole lot cheaper than black light golf at the mall.

Now, my worry about the money situation comes from my own experience. Ever since I moved out on my own, my financial situation has been characterized by a lack of money. Being a student isn't cheap. Long story short, I get by on very little. Long story short, I know how to get by on very little. So, when I have concerns about his money situation, I'm not just talking out my ass or being judgmental. It's all based on the principle of I've been there and I know what it takes. I'm just not sure he does. He's got his eye fixed on where he wants to be, and I fear he's overlooking where he is.

With all of this together, I have some doubts about Mr. Curls' judgment. I fear he's too idealistic. Too much of a dreamer and not enough of a realist. He's going through a rough patch in his life right now, and while some of that is due to circumstances beyond his control, much of it is due to bad choices he made. The part that scares me is not knowing how much of this is just because of a few specific mistakes and how much of it is because he's got a pattern of getting ahead of himself and making bad calls.

A part of me really cares for him and seriously considers the idea of further entwining my life with his. A part of me is terrified that doing so would be a horrible mistake. I keep telling myself not to panic, that time will tell and I just have to be a little patient to see if this pattern I'm worried about really is present and, if so, how much Mr. Curls is willing/able to break it.

What Worries Me, Part One

2010-04-30T08:25:00.003-06:00

Mr. Curls has a lot of good qualities. He's kind, he's honest, he's considerate of others, he makes me laugh, he's loyal... All of them are things that are important to me in a partner. Plus, I adore the curly hair, of course.

The thing is, while in a lot of ways he's had to mature quickly because of the proverbial school of hard knocks, in some ways he's still painfully naive. The more I learn about certain things, the more I doubt his judgment in certain areas.

For starters, we've got ex #2 and the part where he thought it was a perfectly good idea to marry someone he'd only known for five months. Then he defends the decision by saying she "seemed" like the right gal. Even overlooking the obvious red flags that popped up, like she was 20, living with (i.e. mooching off) her grandmother, a single mom who wasn't motivated to hold a job, and had never supported herself independently... getting married to someone you've only known for five months is a bad idea. We're talking about making a the-rest-of-your-life kind of commitment to someone before celebrating both of your birthdays (or Christmas, or whatever) with them. If you can't make it a year, how can you expect to make it the rest of your lives?

But, whatever, I figure everyone's allowed at least one big fuck up in their lives, right? What worries me most is two things:
1. His reluctance/inability to say "no" to people, even when he really should (see previous example).
2. Some of his habits, i.e. money management, are not as mature as he thinks they are.

The two kind of tie together, too. He tends to overrate his ability to take care of things, especially when it comes down to the difference between telling someone else no or making a sacrifice to tell them yes. Lemme give you the short version.

The past couple of years have been bad years for Mr. Curls. There was a divorce, a re-marriage, the break down of that marriage, and a bankruptcy in that time. It all added up to result in Mr. Curls currently working for a trash company and living on a shoestring budget. He's got a plan to get started in real estate (and since he's worked as an appraiser, I'm not as wary of this plan as I might be otherwise) which, among other things, will require a start up fund. The plan is to get started on this within 16 months. Me, hearing that, I assume he'd be working on building up a savings to go toward that start up. Um, as it turns out, not so much. He told me he might sell his Jeep to get the money (he'd still have the truck he inherited from his grandpa).

Last week, there was a "casting call" in town. One of Mr. Curls' dreams is acting, and he was jazzed to go. He was even more jazzed afterward 'cause he got picked to go to a showcase in June. Here's the part that makes me wary - my city isn't exactly Hollywood and out of thirty people who turned up, the scouting company picked ten. That's one third, not exactly super competitive. Also, it's a scouting agency, not an agent agency. They run a showcase in Saint Louis with an $800 registration fee. At this showcase, agents show up, look at the people who've been scouted, and decide if they want to work with them. This means paying $800, plus travel expenses, to have an agent decide whether or not they want to represent you. Then, if they do, it's a question of whether or not that agent can get you work. In this whole equation, I see a handful of red flags, but the bottom line is that it's a significant chunk of change and no guarantee.

Mr. Curls really wants to go, and I mean REALLY. He sees it as his break. The scout said nice things about him, and there are certainly nice things to be said about Mr. Curls. He's also thinking of a time a few years ago when he auditioned for a spot on a Sci-Fi Channel show and got a couple of call backs, "I was their fourth choice or so for the role, and that's something." He's all optimistic and thinking this could be his big chance and even if it doesn't work out, which at least he admits is a possibility, he's got the real estate plan to fall back on. Maybe I'm just a pessimist, but I think he's being naive. Yes, maybe this could be his moment, but I think that maybe is a pretty far shot. Meanwhile, he just spent a week not working because of his back injury and even though he's partly back this week, he's not back at his usual hours, i.e. little paycheck action going on right now.

Last night, he said, "I need to come up with $500 dollars in the next seven days to pay bills and put a deposit on the showcase." The deposit for the showcase is $300, which leaves him with $500 more to come up with before June. He talked about selling the Jeep this week to get the cash. That tells me he doesn't have anything in savings and he's willing to sell the Jeep quickly, i.e. cheaply, just to have the cash for a long-shot chance at showbiz.

But wait, there's more...

An Unexpected Ally

2010-04-29T09:16:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, Mr. Curls got a call from ex #2's new boyfriend. Mr. Curls has a couple of things the ex wants, and the boyfriend called to arrange a time so he could pick them up. The ex, it seems, was busy (shocker!).

The conversation went kind of like this:

Boyfriend: So, can I come by and pick those things up?
Mr. Curls: Sure. I'll trade you.
Boyfriend: Huh?
Mr. Curls: Well, when you come to pick up the stuff, I'm going to ask that you take divorce papers with you.
Boyfriend: What? I thought that was all underway already.
Mr. Curls: Believe me, I'd very much like it to be.
Boyfriend: Yeah, me too. I'll make sure it gets done.

Mr. Curls met his ex's new fella yesterday and he says the guy's pretty decent. He said, "I wanted to tell him to run for the hills and save himself, but I'll wait until after the paperwork's signed."

I'm so pleased the boyfriend is intent on getting the divorce going. He's the most likely person to get the ex to cooperate, and now I'm just hoping that she's keen enough on making him happy to finalize the divorce for his sake. It's nice that he and Mr. Curls see eye-to-eye on the issue and that he seems like he's going to help minimize the drama, rather than increase it. I haven't met the dude, yet I feel like I want to hug him.

Saying It, Not Saying It, and Saying It Without Words

2010-04-28T09:20:00.003-06:00

Sunday night, after the boys had gone home and Mr. Curls and I did a bit of physical therapy, he was in a thoughtful mood.

"What's on your mind?" I asked.

"I've been thinking a lot this past week about a conversation we had a while back."

Sometimes, it's almost eerie the way he and I can practically read each other's minds. Given the mood we were in, the way the day had gone, and what he said, I immediately put the pieces together and knew that he meant the conversation where we'd been talking about a four-letter word.

"There have been times lately," he said, "where there'll be a moment and I'm just a breath away from saying it." He paused, waiting for me to respond.

"I've been thinking about it, too. You know, trying it out in my head, and there's been a time or two where it's been on the tip of my tongue."

He nodded. "It's strange, because in those moments, it's like we have the thought and we both know it and even though we don't say it, it's almost like we did." He paused again, this time figuring out how to say the next part. "Between the two of us, and the experiences we've had, it's harder for us to say it than it is for other people. But, I hope that you can see it, in what I do, in the way I look at you."

It was a scary moment. I thought to myself, I guess maybe this is real. It's not just dating. This is a guy who cares about me all the way. So, I said, "I don't know if I'm ready to say it yet, but that doesn't mean I don't mean it. The word isn't ready, but the feeling is there."

Sunday night is the night that we told each other "I love you" for the first time, even though neither of us said those three words. The words are important, and it'll be important for us to actually say them. But, even without the words themselves, we got the idea across.

From the Mouth of Babes, or Another Weekend With the Boys

2010-04-27T08:31:00.003-06:00

I spent more time hanging out with Mr. Curls and the boys this weekend. It surprises me how quickly the four of us have slipped into a comfortable zone. The boys have totally taken me in stride and I liked them from the outset. E., the younger boy, has basically adopted me wholesale. On Sunday, we took two cars to the park and frozen yogurt shop because I was leaving directly from there to meet some friends for dinner. Before we left the apartment, E. heard this and promptly told Mr. Curls, "A. can go with you, and I'll go with Jean." Just like that, I had a co-pilot.

Mr. Curls got a bit uncomfortable with his son proclaiming he'd ride with me without asking me first. Mr. Curls told E. that it was up to me whether or not that would be the case. For my part, I didn't mind and I took it as a stamp of approval that E. volunteered himself to ride with me.

E. also dropped a nugget of info over blueberry pancakes at breakfast. A. made the comment that he, Mr. Curls, and I were all oldest siblings, which made E. the odd man out. E. proceeded to tell me that he used to be the middle kid when he had a step mom. Turns out, ex #2 had a two-year-old daughter. It fits what little I know about her, and especially what I know about Mr. Curls. The toddler, meaning she got pregnant either at the tail end of 17 or the beginning of being 18, makes sense. She wasn't the paragon of virtue (I'm not generalizing here, but making a specific statement about this particular gal) and it fits that she was a teen mom. It also fits that Mr. Curls would see that, connect it to his own early fatherhood, and see a connection with her. Also, it makes a little more sense that he would get so tied with this gal so quickly, because he might have been looking at it not only as taking care of this chic, but also as taking care of her kid. Kids are a definite soft spot for him, especially since his access to his boys is so limited (their mom moved an hour and a half away after the divorce).

When E. talked about the ex, it was an interesting moment. Mr. Curls was certainly watching my reaction since the two-year-old was part of the bank of non-essential information we'd talked about me learning at a later date. So, it's not like he was keeping a secret, per se, but E. was telling me something Mr. Curls hadn't. Mr. Curls watched me.

E. watched me too. He's a kid who's got little by way of filter between what he thinks and what he says, but I sensed a tiny bit of purpose behind the comment. I'm not sure what that purpose might have been, but something in what he said was about me, because he watched me pretty closely, waiting for a response instead of talking on. From the tone and his attitude, I lean toward thinking that his comment about having had a step mom before was a little bit aimed toward hinting that it'd be okay if he had a step mom again. Or, maybe I'm reading too much into it. Either way, after I said a neutral, "Oh yeah?" the moment passed.

(Side Note: Mr. Curls haven't talked about the revelation yet. He hasn't brought it up, and I wanted to wait for the right moment. It's not something I'm worried about, really, and it's not something where I'm upset with him for not telling me. The conversations we've had about the exes have been pretty clear on the part where I don't want all the details at once and the part where he's got more to tell than I know so far. I made it clear that if there was anything that'd directly affect me, I wanted to know now, and I trust him that the unknown parts are okay to be unknown right now. The ex's kid info is important, but it doesn't directly affect me, so I'm okay that he hadn't told me that part yet.)

After breakfast, we bummed around a bit until I suggested we go to the park to let the boys get some fresh air. Mr. Curls smiled. "It's interesting how you said 'we' like it was the most natural thing in the world." E. jumped on the idea, proclaiming it'd be "romantic" for me and Mr. Curls. He was less impressed when, at the park, Mr. Curls declined to play tag because of his back - it's better, but not yet 100%. Both of the boys gave him a hard time about being a wuss, but Mr. Curls held firm and the boys decided they were over this whole park thing and it was time for frozen yogurt.

Later, at the yogurt shop, I went to the ladies room to wash my hands after I finished my dessert and stood at the sink next to a young lady who worked there. She smiled at me and said, "My friend and I were talking about you and your husband. We think you're so cute together."

I debated with myself for a moment whether or not to correct the misunderstanding, then I just said, "Thanks." I wonder if the assumption also followed that I was the boys' mom. It's interesting to think about.

The whole situation with Mr. Curls' complicated past and the boys' complicated parental situation is, well, complicated, and now I'm plopped in the middle of it. I'm cautious about the whole thing, because there's so much potential for drama, but so far things have gone along with remarkable smoothness. It's unexpected and leaves me wondering, why isn't it harder? Is this too easy? That part makes me a little nervous.

Doctor's Orders

2010-04-23T22:30:00.002-06:00

Mr. Curls had another visit with the doctor and physical therapist today and afterward, I was asking him about what they had to say about how he's healing up and when they'd give him the okay to go back to work. We were chatting about that for a few minutes, when talk of him being healed enough to go back to work lead to talk about him being okay for other activities.

"There was one thing the doctor mentioned... He mentioned you, actually. He said as long as we took it kind of easy, I should be well enough to get naughty with you. In fact," he winked, "the doctor said that the particular hip movements involved would actually be good for me. You know, like physical therapy."

"Oh, really?" I said.

"Really."

"Well, I guess I could go along with that," I said, taking off his shirt. "You know, in the spirit of doing my part to help you get healed up."

I was a little bit worried at first, but there proved to be no need. Afterward, Mr. Curls informed me that the doctor was right and it had helped. His back felt better. Talk about a good prescription ;)

Life, By Definition, Is Conflict, or I Guess I'm Perfectly Normal

2010-04-22T22:40:00.010-06:00

For the past two weeks or so, I've been stressed. I'm being pushed and pulled by a variety of pressures and deadlines (can you say Finals Week?) and I'm tense. Yesterday I woke early because of a stress dream and couldn't get back to sleep. All things considered, I've been thinking of one of the most apt descriptions of life I've ever been exposed to: life as a series of crises.

When I was an undergrad, I had to take some psychology classes. Overall, I really hated them. One of the three I took wasn't too bad. That class had the best teacher (the other two sucked). Still, psych classes = not my thing. It's not that I dislike the material or that I dislike the study of the human mind. More, I disliked the specific approach two of the three instructors took.

But, the part that stuck with me the most was Erikson's developmental theory. You can google it for more info, but the jist is that we, as people, are formed and become who we are, through a series of conflicts. Each age has its own special conflict, from infancy all the way until death. The important thing, is that, according to Erikson, our whole lives are defined by conflict.

Erikson fits perfectly from one of the basic ideas I learned in biology - life is a product of unbalance. All of our biological processes, like breathing, are constant while we're alive. Yet, the processes of breathing are not constant. There is a struggle behind each inhalation, then an exchange of gases because there's too much carbon dioxide in the blood, and then the oxygen is whisked off to the rest of the body. For a moment in between, when the gases are trading places, there is an instant where there is balance between them. But, that balance can't last. Your cells need that oxygen and your body needs to expel the carbon dioxide, and the balance is ruined. It is a necessary lack of balance, but one that cannot be held, so the teeter-totter swings back and forth, back and forth. When the teeter-totter stops, you're dead.

Right now, I'm in the midst of complications. Every good thing comes with its trade-off.

In May, my MA will be official vs. I feel burned out and cynical about the experience.
I finished all my coursework for getting said MA vs. that made me ineligible for the work study I was doing for two years and I had to start paying back student loans at about the same time I lost my work study job.
I got the second part-time teaching job vs. now I have another teaching commitment with a different curriculum, different assignments, different supervisor, different campus, and different student body demographic to juggle.
I'm happy for the extra income of the second job vs. even with it, I still lack basics like health insurance, and even with the second source of income, the combined total is still going to be pretty underwhelming, especially relative to the combined work load.
I'm in a new relationship with a guy who treats me well vs. I'm intimidated by being in a serious relationship with anyone, much less a guy who's got such a complicated past.
I'm soon to be doing some traveling to visit my brother and go to a wedding and I'm really excited about it vs. the travel comes with expenses, and I'm in a place where I'm stressed about how quickly the number on my bank account is shrinking, even though I know I've been planning for these travel expenses for months.
I paid off one of my student loans in its entirety this week vs. that's nearly $2,000 all gone at once.

The teeter-totter goes back and forth and the crux of the stress is knowing that the path of my life has to change due to necessity. My biggest overall concern right now is money. I live frugally, but the money I make is even less. When I was getting student loans, I socked any leftovers away in a savings account so I could have a financial buffer. Over the past year or so, I've had to lean on that buffer and it's slowly, but steadily, getting smaller. Even living frugally, my monthly expenses average just a little bit more than my monthly income. My job is not sustainable, but so far picking up another part-time teaching job is the best I've been able to do.

What I need is a real, grown-up job where I can work full time, have an income that can actually support me, and have some benefits like medical insurance. The only problem is I haven't been able to find one yet. My job hunting so far has turned up a couple of possibilities, but one already turned me down, and the other is beginning to look like it'll follow suit. All of this pain and effort to get the damn MA and I'm starting to think my best career option is to get one of those jobs I could have gotten right out of high school - at least, those seem to be the only places hiring (or, I can redo college and go for nursing, 'cause they're hiring right and left right now). Kind of makes me wonder what the point of going to college was. What the point of getting the damn MA was.

So, yeah. Every resolution ultimately leads to new conflict. Life is crisis. I guess it's good to know I'm living, at least.

The Broken Boyfriend Adventure

2010-04-20T19:39:00.002-06:00

I usually talk to Mr. Curls in the mornings, so when the usual time came and went on Monday, I sent him a text to say hello, something along the lines of, "Good morning, how's your day going?" An hour went by, no response. My Spidey sense started to tingle.

Finally, a short text in reply, "Not well." Then, "I may need a favor later."

Turns out, that favor was a ride home from the doctor's office. Turns out, Mr. Curls twisted a muscle in his back. The injury is bad enough to have him out of commission for a few days, but not bad enough that he needs surgery (thank goodness).

I hung out with Mr. Curls for the rest of the day, making some dinner and sitting on the couch with him to watch a couple movies. He was in pretty bad shape. It hurt him to move and it hurt him even worse to get up. It was horrible, you know, for me, 'cause he was so clearly in pain and there was nothing I could do to fix it. But, I could be there with him and hold his hand, and that helped a little.

Tomorrow, I'm taking him in for his follow-up doctor's appointment and more physical therapy. I feel really bad for him since he's hurt, but I have to admit that I've been making "old man" comments right and left. Can't baby him too much, now, don't want to spoil him ;)

Brother Meets Boyfriend

2010-04-19T11:16:00.003-06:00

Since my brother is a young guy with some time on his hands between phases of his pilot training, he decided to take a road trip on his motorcycle from Florida to Colorado. He, and his very sore butt, got into town the night before last, so yesterday me and Mr. Curls met up with my brother and his girlfriend so Mr. Curls could meet my little brother.

We met up, grilled some hamburgers, and spent the afternoon hanging out. My brother and Mr. Curls hit it off right away. In part, because their personalities just work, and in part because my brother was way excited that he wasn't the only boy. In the past, there have been times where it's been me, my brother, and the girlfriend and she and I have ganged up on him. This time, my brother had another guy as backup.

See, my brother is ticklish. WAY ticklish. That makes it really hilarious when me and the girlfriend team up and attack him. He giggles in a distinctly girlish way when he gets tickled, and he flails helplessly about, which entertains me and the girlfriend to no end. Yesterday, there came a point when we were all sitting on the lawn outside and me and the girlfriend decided it was a good time to tackle my brother.

There I was, getting some good rib tickling in, when suddenly, I got blindsided by a sneak attack as Mr. Curls tickled me from behind. Ticklishness, like thick hair, is a trait my brother and I share. So, as soon as Mr. Curls came at me and exploited this weakness, I was out of commission, leaving my brother with much better odds. Mr. Curls scored major points with my brother for that and it pretty much cemented their alliance.

Mr. Curls has officially passed the brother test. Now the girlfriend and I have lost the two-against-one girl advantage. Tragic, I tell you. Tragic ;)

Mr. Curls To the Rescue

2010-04-18T21:39:00.002-06:00

My parents were on a trip this past week and I stopped by the house a few times to check for burglars. This was extra important because a few weeks ago, their next door neighbors had their house broken into.

I went to visit mom and dad's a few days ago. I picked up some Chinese food and a DVD to watch on their big screen TV. Part way through the DVD, Mr. Curls called to shoot the breeze and I started to walk down the stairs into the basement for something. Half way down the stairs, I heard a sound like one of the storage boxes falling over.

"Um, hang on a second," I said as I back-pedaled up the stairs. I walked outside, locked the door, then told Mr. Curls about the noise. "Could be, it was nothing," I said. "Could be, it's just a squirrel or something. But, what with the neighbors, and all..."

"You want me to come over? I'm already on that side of town."

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to be a wimp, but, worst case scenario, it'd be worse to be stupid than to over-react. "Could you?"

"I'll be right there."

I waited in my car with the engine running, just in case a murderous burglar came at me. Soon enough, Mr. Curls pulled up. All business, he walked around the house with me, helping me check for any places someone might have broken in - I wanted to do a walk around first, because if we found an obvious place where a window was busted, then I'd call the police right then and there. When we didn't see any spots where someone might have broken in, we ventured inside. Together, we went through the house room by room, checking for intruders.

Thankfully, it turned out to be a false alarm. Whatever I heard, it was most likely a weird echo of my own footsteps. I felt kind of silly about being worried, but relieved at the same time. I felt a little bad for asking Mr. Curls to drop what he was doing and come over just because I was paranoid, but for his part, he just shrugged. "I'm glad it was nothing. I'd much rather it be nothing than think that you were in danger." That was it. No mention of how he'd left his sister's mid-conversation. No mention of how I'd worried him for nothing, and no giving me a hard time about an over-active imagination. Just relief that it was okay.

Even though it turned out to be nothing, he was there for me, without hesitation, when I needed him. It's the sort of thing that balances out all the baggage and complications. Whatever else, I know he's got my back. It's a good feeling.

A Conversation About a Conversation

2010-04-16T08:18:00.003-06:00

The night after the conversation that got my emotions all in a whirl, I was at Mr. Curls' place, curled up on the couch with him. I'd been quiet, trying to decide what to say about what had been going on in my head and wanting to have some time just to enjoy listening to his heartbeat and having his arms around me.

"You seem tired," he said.

"Not tired. Thoughtful."

He tipped my head up a little to look me in the eyes. "What's up?"

"Something happened when we were talking last night. I had a really unexpected reaction to part of what we were talking about."

"Oh?" I started trying to explain, and when I paused to figure out the next thing to say, he helped me fill in. "Would this have to do with what you told me a while back?" We'd only talked about my foster brother once, but Mr. Curls is sharp, he'd connected the dots. "Last night, when you seemed uncomfortable, I thought that might be it. That's why I said we didn't have to talk about it." He hugged me, tight.

Then, we talked. Mostly, I talked and he listened. He didn't say much. There wasn't much he could say about something like that. He held me tight. He stroked my hair. He asked me if I'd ever talked to a professional about it. The important part was that even though he was absolutely dog tired from a couple of sixteen hour work days in a row, he stayed up, listening to me and being there for me without ever once looking at the clock.

The Freak Out, or, A Ghost From the Past

2010-04-14T09:59:00.006-06:00

The past few days, I've been a bit stressed due to a combination of some drama going on with my present job and the tension and insecurity of applying for a new job which would mean a drastic pay increase and moving to a nearby city. Also, Mr. Curls and I have been talking a little bit about plans for going out of town in May for the wedding of one of my closest friends. It's a trip, together, and it's still a month out that we're planning for. It's intimidating.

Last night, while we were having yet another marathon phone call, we started talking about some sex things. Most of the details aren't important, so I'll skip all but the few that are. We talked about masturbation and the conversation almost went somewhere I didn't want it to. When I was a little kid, we're talking about three or four, I learned more than I should have about genitals. Someone I trusted, my foster brother, touched me where he shouldn't have. As soon as my parents found out, he was removed from the house. Since I was so young, I really don't remember most of it, though I've spent a long time and a number of conversations with the friend whose wedding we're going to to try and sort out how this thing has affected me. The bottom line: I've dealt with it, but these days I have a hard time drawing the line between things I can trace back to that and things that come from other places. Sorry, I know that's vague, but I'm having a hard time finding the right words.

Talking about masturbation, talking about touching myself, reminds me that someone else touched me first. I've told Mr. Curls about what happened, but I told him it didn't matter. Usually, it doesn't.

The conversation last night then turned to him asking me about preferences about pubic hair. "So, um, what do you like?" He asked.

"I like what you've got going on right now," I said. Then, "Since you bring it up, it's only fair to ask you." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Since before Mr. Curls, and before my ex, I decided I liked to keep things trimmed up down there. Not bushy, but not shaved. I have it how I like it. Period. I added, "Not to make you answer differently, but I may not be anxious to change it."

"Fair enough. I will say that I do kind of like no hair there. I like what you've got, too. It's kind of tied."

And that is when it happened. I don't know where the reaction came from, and I can't explain exactly how it happened. All I know is that suddenly, my heart fell to my stomach and all I wanted was to hang up on him and keep my phone turned off. Can we say disproportionate reaction? I was blindsided. I mean, what the fuck? All he said was, "I kind of like this one thing," and BAM! I didn't know what was going on, but I knew I needed to change the subject, so I told him and before long we were saying goodnight and hanging up. I sat on my bed after I hung up the phone, trying to figure out what had just happened.

In the course of this relationship, there has been so much else, things that are way more important than pubic hair, that I've learned about that I just took in stride. So, what's different about this? I went to bed last night feeling horrible and insecure and anxious. It sucked. Some of that feeling is lingering this morning, which also sucks. As best I can figure it, the reaction comes from a couple of things.

One: insecurity about sexual experience. Before Mr. Curls, I had exactly one notch on my bed post. Exactly one guy I had (willingly) been intimate with. I haven't asked Mr. Curls about his number, because I'm not at a place where I want to know, but he's been married twice, which means at least two, which isn't a big number by any stretch of the imagination, but it's twice what mine was. If he likes it bare down there, then who was the one who is the reason he likes it? It's an immediate insecurity born of comparison.

Two: what if we don't match? We've talked about bedroom desires and what each of us finds appealing. I've asked him what he likes and, well, the guy's pretty vanilla. The first conversation we had, he said X and Y and I asked him if there was anything else and he couldn't think of anything. Then, a while later, he said he liked Z, too. Again, we're talking disproportionate response, because it wasn't anything that came out of left field or anything like that, it just triggered an irrational, "He's got a foot fetish, I know it!" response in me. The jist is, he's just so much unexplored territory and because he's a different person than my ex was, being with him is different than it was with my ex. I mean, duh. But, part of it ties back to the whole lack of experience thing. There's the part of me that's afraid he's going to want something I won't be okay with - which is silly because knowing him and knowing me, there's a whole lot I am or would be okay with, and I think I might be okay with more than he would. It's more that I've never been much of the lingerie girl, and he likes lacy thongs. Things aren't just all on my terms. Again, it's a "duh" moment. Relationships are all about compromise in all kinds of ways. And, just because I was never really into thongs doesn't mean I minded wearing one the other night. It's not about the thing itself, ultimately, it's about the control. Specifically, it's about me giving some up. As a gal who spent most of the past three years being single and having absolute control, that's a change. Change is scary.

Three: my crotch is, well, intimate. Having sex is one thing because it's about giving myself over to someone, but only for a time. Then I get myself back. Shaving my pubes would be about someone else having control over my lady parts on a more than temporary basis. I'd be walking around all day knowing that my crotch was a certain way because that's how someone else liked it. And, for me, the crotch is the most important part of the whole thing. When I was a kid, someone who shouldn't have had anything to do with my crotch did what he wanted with it, i.e. loss of control. Thus, for so much of the rest of my life, it's been an extra sensitive area for me, no pun intended. I've been somewhat casual about above-the-belt fooling around, but below-the-belt is not in any way casual for me. There has never been an off-hand fingering or such, because I am not okay with that at all, because, I have this thing from my past.

Four: the worst part is that my reaction last night caught me SO off guard. After all this time and talking with someone I trusted about it, I was confident that I'd dealt with what happened. I knew that I'd dealt with it. I knew I was over it. It was a thing that happened, and it was a really ugly thing, but I'd gotten past it. Then, I reacted how I did and it immediately brings up the point that maybe I'm not quite all the way past it.

And then we go back to the insecurity. Mr. Curls tells me I'm wonderful. He tells me he's so lucky to have found me and that he has a hard time seeing why someone so great as me would be interested in someone who's got all this baggage. I tell him I'm far from perfect and point out a thing or two to that effect. He shrugs, "It's no big deal." This, though, this is a big deal and even though I've told him about it, I did everything I could to downplay it and we haven't talked about it since.

I think I need to talk to him about it a little more, but I don't know what purpose it'd serve, and I don't know how to say it or what to say about it. It's something that I've thought about in so many different ways that it's become ambiguous to me. I honestly don't know how much of what I think and feel about it comes from the event itself and how much comes from me thinking about it afterward. The only part that's really vivid is an image in my mind. It was night and I was in my bed in the basement bedroom. I see the stairs leading into my room and him standing at the top of them in his underwear. I remember, faintly, the feeling of him on top of me. I don't remember if there was actual penetration, but I don't think so. I imagine if there had been, I would have remembered discomfort or pain.

With my ex, I told him about it and then it was over. It never was an issue once I talked about it and I was okay. So, why is it different this time? Why am I reacting to something I barely remember? How much of it is the thing itself, and how much of it is bleed-through from other stresses I'm dealing with right now? What does the freak out mean? Does it really mean anything at all? I wish I knew the answers. I hate not knowing exactly what it is I'm feeling or why. I hate this so much. I just wish time would speed up so I could get out through the other side of it right away.

Game Night and Package Deals

2010-04-12T08:12:00.003-06:00

Saturday Mr. Curls and the boys got some of Mr. Curls' stuff out of storage, a.k.a. picked it up from ex #2's sister (he's been waiting to get it until he could be sure there wouldn't be drama). When I went to the apartment that night, there were a stack of boxes stuffed into the bedroom, some pieces of furniture added to the living room, and, most exciting of all, a kitchen table.

I arrived with a few things of my own: a deck of cards, Jenga, and a couple of board games. The boys were a tad shy at first, staying in their room for a minute before peeking out. Then, any shyness was over and E, the eight-year-old quickly wrangled me into a game of Don't Break The Ice while Mr. Curls fiddled with getting the TV stand set up. It didn't take too long before all four of us were playing Jenga. The slightly wobbly table, combined with a very energetic E's elbows on the table, made for extra suspense.

There was a moment during playing games where Mr. Curls had E. go to his room to calm down a bit and A., the thirteen-year-old, was on an expedition to the convenience store for a donut. The two of us were alone for a moment and Mr. Curls shook his head, "I promise, they're not usually this wound up," he said, meaning E. mostly.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I figured."

Mr. Curls smiled, "Would it make sense if I told you they were excited to see you?"

Once we regrouped, we moved on to cards. After a few hands, Mr. Curls made a pizza run and while he was gone, I showed the boys a couple of card tricks I know. Then I showed them how to do the tricks and A. immediately practiced a couple times and when Mr. Curls returned with the pizza, A. did the tricks for him. One was a bit more complicated, so he goofed it. Once we finished pizza, I helped A. practice the trick until he got it down pat.

Later, after a movie and after the boys were in bed, Mr. Curls and I sat on the couch for a bit, letting the quiet soak in. "That was fun," I said.

"Yeah?" Mr. Curls looked relieved. He had been a bit self-conscious at moments when the boys were giving each other grief, or when E.'s volume level got high. But, I know that kids are kids. I also can see that A. and E. are good kids. Add to that the fact that, since the boys were more wound up than when we did mini golf, I got to see Mr. Curls in more of a dad mode when he needed to be. He's a good dad, and it was neat to see that side of him.

"I liked goofing around with the boys. It's been a good night."

I was pleased that the boys got into the games like they did. It reminded me a bit of playing games with my parents when I was a kid and that gave me a whole warm fuzzy vibe. It's been a number of years since I started thinking that giving birth really wasn't my idea of a good time. However, whenever I think of my future, I tend to see kids in it. For a very long time, I've been telling my brother all about the kids he's going to have so I can be an aunt. A few days ago, when we were talking about Mr. Curls, my brother asked if that was still the plan. "Yup," I told him. "Besides, Mr. Curls already has two, so it's not like he's feeling the baby fever either. I'm still more into the idea of part time kids than full time."

"Then that'll work perfect," my brother said. "His kids are like rentals."

"Exactly."

It might sound shallow, but I swear it has more to do with the difference between liking children and needing to have my own biological children. With Mr. Curls' boys, I've been pleasantly surprised by how quickly they've warmed up to me. I expected more caution. I expected them to spend more time feeling me out before deciding about me. The idea that they were excited to see me Saturday is more than I expected. Like so much else with this relationship, it gelled more easily than I hoped.

I don't want to jump the gun, but these days, the more I imagine my future, the more I imagine Mr. Curls being in it. The more I imagine having a lot more game nights. I've always had the dream of a family of my own, even if that family wasn't the typical set up with me giving birth to members thereof. The thing is, though I've had that clear goal, it's always been distant. Now, in such a short time of only a few months, that goal seems to suddenly be a lot closer. The last thing I want is to get ahead of myself, but I like the idea of the four of us. My plan was, if all went well, I'd be adding one more person to my life. Now, if all goes well, I'd be adding three. It's intimidating. It's exciting. I just might be getting a family out of this.

Funny to think how it all started with a question in a bar.

Chancing Rejection, aka the Job Interview

2010-04-08T11:40:00.000-06:00

A while back, I posted about talking to the gal at the community college about teaching some classes there as well as where I'm teaching now. I was nervous. I've never been comfortable with pitching myself to people. The whole, "I'm awesome, wouldn't you agree?" thing makes me want to puke. Still, it's a necessary evil when it comes to things like getting a job.

I sent off the inquiry e-mail to the gal and cringed when I hit "send." Then I immediately realized I had forgotten to put something in the subject line. Crap. Cue the butterflies in the gut, sweaty palms, and panic attack.

Imagine my thrill when her response was to say my CV was "impressive" and that she'd love to talk with me further.

Fast forward to the day when I went in for my talk/interview. Mr. Curls had wished me luck that morning, adding, "Though, I'm sure you don't need any." I was running approximately two minutes late because I had decided at the last minute that I wanted to include one more document in the folder I was bringing to the interview and had to print it out. Two minutes late, and I was cussing myself out as I raced across the parking lot. I found her office and she smiled warmly at me and said, "You must be Jean. It's nice to meet you."

Then, we started talking. She asked me about some of the experience I listed on my CV. She asked me what I considered my strengths as a teacher and what I struggled with. The interview started to get longer and longer and she was both very friendly, very professional, and very thoughtful about my answers. Before long, I started to feel less like a deer in headlights. Then she got to the point where she asked if I had any questions for her.

"At this point, my main question would be how I might fit here. If I were to teach here, what classes might I be teaching?"

The answer was not what I expected. Instead of saying, "Well, the classes you might teach would be X, Y, and/or Z," she said, "What would you think of teaching a class this summer? I have one more X class to fill." Just like that, I got hired! No second interview, no having to think it over, just a comment about how she'd already spoken to my current boss about me, gotten a positive review, and that she wanted me on board.

As soon as I said I'd be thrilled to take on the summer class, she loaded me up with the materials I'd need, told me to talk to HR, and said she looked forward to working with me. I was professional and said I was looking forward to it, but I didn't gush or squeal with glee since that would've been weird. Let me tell you though, as soon as I walked out of her door, I had the biggest, dumbest grin on my face and it stayed there for at least two hours afterward.

Okay, one summer class is hardly enough to retire on, but it's my foot in the door and it is an earlier start than I had hoped for. Now I have something productive to do this summer. The extra bonus is the self esteem bonus. My whole work and income situation has been a source of stress for me for a while, and I am just so extraordinarily psyched about this because even if it's a small win, it's still a WIN!

A Four-Letter Word

2010-04-06T13:06:00.004-06:00

Last weekend, Mr. Curls and I had a conversation we'd been warming up to for a few days. He had said something on the phone the night before regarding the timing of when I met the boys, "I was talking with my sister about it and I told her that I thought it would be best if certain things happened first." He paused, trying to figure out the next part. "Certain mile markers that we haven't gotten to yet. But, when I talked to her, and now that you've met them, I started thinking that the timing was just right anyway."

"Certain mile markers, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm thinking I may have a hunch about that, which makes me think it'd be better to save that thought for a time when we can talk about it in person."

The next day, when I went over to his place, we got back to that thought. See, I had a hunch about what it was, because I've gotten to know him pretty well and because I'd been talking with a friend about a specific anxiety I was having in regard to the relationship. It's not a bad thing, but it is a thing that freaks me out because of its implications.

"So," I said, "about that mile marker you were talking about last night, let's talk about that."

"Okay, let's talk about that," he said.

Both of us were feeling awkward by that point. We do that sometimes. We'll both be struggling for words, trying to figure out how to say what we mean. Sometimes, the process even involves blushing and scrunched up facial expressions, but the important thing is that even if it's not easy, or if it's uncomfortable, we push through and say what we need to say. It took us a while to get to the heart of the matter where we described a certain four-letter word. A word that's way scary and starts with an "L."

With this conversation, there was a fair amount of talking around the idea before we finally landed on it, because that word intimidates us both. For both of us, that word does not come easily. After a lot of pauses and comments where more was implied that said, but where we both knew what the other meant, we reached the point where we told each other that word had been on our minds. We've both been thinking about it, but neither of us is quite ready to say it out loud yet. Neither of us is quite ready to claim it yet.

But, we've been thinking about it. I've been trying it out in my head, too. Just in my thoughts, I'll try out an idea that has that word. I'm testing how it feels. It feels alright, to be honest. It feels like maybe I could say it soon. That, maybe, is the scariest part. In the past, like with my first boyfriend, I knew it wasn't there. He said it, and I said, "Me too," because that's what he wanted, but I knew I didn't feel it. That was easier. Now, I test it and I have a "Yes, maybe" kind of thought, which makes me a million bajillion times more uneasy.

If I say that word, that means I mean it. If I mean that word, that means I'm saying yes to this guy. I'm saying that I feel enough for him to go beyond a guy I like spending time with and I like being intimate with. I'm saying that I feel enough for him to think about it not as his future and my future, but as our future. So, I try the word out in my head and take my time before I get ready to try and say it out loud.

Ex Drama and the Information Guidelines

2010-04-05T13:32:00.006-06:00

Saturday, after our dress shopping adventure, Mr. Curls was supposed to meet up with a friend of his who he hasn't seen in quite some time. The friend was at this other guy's house with a group of people and the plan was for Mr. Curls to meet him there.

After we got back to my house, and after I reassured Mr. Curls I wouldn't feel ditched, he headed off to meet his friend. Twenty minutes later, my phone rang. Caller ID said it was him and my first thought was, "huh?" and my second thought was, "uh oh." I figured there was no reason for him to call me unless his plans fell through, right?

I answered the phone and could immediately tell by the sound of his voice that something wasn't right.

"What's up?" I asked. "Did your buddy bail on you?"

"No," he sighed. "Worse. I'm not sure what to do."

"What happened?"

"My friend just called to let me know my ex is there." That meant his most recent ex. The ex who, just last week, had some chic pretend to be her to dodge getting served divorce papers. Yes, that's right, the lady's a nut job (my words, not his). Important lesson, my friends, this is why you don't marry someone you've only known for five months. As much as I like Mr. Curls, marrying that gal was a really, really stupid thing to do. Now he's paying the price.

"Ah," I said. "I see."

"My friend went to his buddy's with someone else, so he doesn't have his car. He doesn't mind leaving, but I'd have to pick him up and I just have a bad feeling that she'd follow him out or something and..." he let it trail off.

"Yeah. That would suck."

"Except, I was supposed to hang out with him tonight and I was really looking forward to it and now my plans are wrecked." The part he didn't say, but that I understood was that this was yet another way she was having a negative impact on his life. Bad enough she won't cooperate with getting a divorce - it's not like she actually wants to be with him, not like they've even seen each other in months, etc. - now she had to ruin his plans to catch up with an old friend.

His reaction to the whole thing was like he'd gotten sucker punched. Part of me felt a little unsympathetic given that whole marrying someone he'd only known for five months thing and the fact that, when it comes to hasty romances like that, there's often reasons why people rush in and those reasons aren't often good. So, a little bit of just deserts. But, most of me cares for him and sees why he did what he did and though I think it wasn't his brightest idea, it comes down to being human, etc. etc. The majority of me just felt bad for him.

In the end, he decided to just take a rain check with his friend and avoid the situation completely. No need to set himself up for drama, and I was glad the timing worked so the ex got there before him and his friend was able to warn him. It sucked that he couldn't hang out, but it would've sucked more if he had already been there when she walked in the door.

We talked on the phone again once he got home and we talked a bit about what I needed/wanted to know about the situation at this point. He's told me the broad strokes already, as well as a few details that are important for me to know - like how she screwed around on him, confessed, and how he went to the doctor the next day to get a full STD panel which, thankfully, came back clean. But, as I told him, I don't really want details, particularly not now.

I feel like I know what I need to know for where our relationship is, and I reminded him that he should tell me anything else that would be important, but I don't want all the gory details. I don't want to know what their wedding was like, or plans they made for their life together, or any of that type of thing. It's the sort of information that wouldn't have direct bearing on our relationship and the sort of thing that can get under one's skin and fester. I don't want to spend a lot of time thinking about how he loved his exes. It can't do me any good.

We talked about what I wanted to know. He talked about wanting to protect me from the drama, and I appreciate that. He got himself into trouble and, one step at a time, he's getting it sorted out. I neither need nor want to get involved.

Different couples have different ideas about what they need to know about each other. There are those who want to know everything about everything. There are those who look at the past as the past and the only important part is today onward. For me, I'm somewhere between, but with a healthy appreciation of Cliff's Notes. I don't need to know everything about the 2nd ex. I know the wedding was hasty. I know the marriage itself was viable for about four months. I know that by the time they'd known each other a year, Mr. Curls was beginning to realize he'd gone down a bad path. I know that as of the time he and I met, one of the things he wanted more than anything else was to be finished with this person and move on and have a life she had no part in.

I also know that the experience made him take a hard look at his issues and the choices he'd made to get him into that situation. He's determined not to repeat the same mistake and we've talked more than once about the benefit of taking it slow and really getting to know each other before we do big relationship things. We've talked about how being in a relationship with someone for over a year is a good thing to do before planning to get married. Sometimes one has to learn things the hard way, but the important thing is that those things are learned. In this case, he just had to learn it the really hard, painful, disastrous way.

All I can say is Yay! for the vasectomy, 'cause the last thing he or I need is to have this person involved in his life as baby mama #2. Thank goodness for small mercies.

Now I Have a Shopping Assistant

2010-04-04T21:49:00.004-06:00

A while back, I was telling Mr. Curls about my friend's wedding in May. I happened to mention needing a dress.

"Oh yeah?" He said.

"Yup. I'm going to have to go shopping."

"Want company?"

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Curls volunteered to go dress shopping with me.

Yesterday, we hopped in my car and toured the shops. The last time I went shopping for a dress with someone was when I was a high school freshman. The friend I went with got bored and annoyed with me and it wasn't fun. Going into the shopping adventure with Mr. Curls, I was a bit nervous about how it'd go.

It took until the fourth shop before we found anything for me to even try on. I have to say, I was impressed. Mr. Curls was very patient about the whole process and there were a few times when he was the one who picked out a dress for me to try on. I must add, the comments of, "Ooh, I really like that one on you" and "You look really good in that one" made me smile. He was good moral support, and very helpful when it came to having someone around to hold dresses for me. Also, he wasn't just humoring me. He was actually interested in helping me find something I liked. It was an unusual experience for me. Fun, though, definitely fun.

The dress mission took about eight stores before I found a dress that would work. Now I've got a dress for the wedding and now I know who to take shopping with me.

What's Sex? What Isn't?

2010-04-01T00:04:00.003-06:00

I'm a big fan of City Girl's blog, and I'm totally flattered that she's got a post up that responds to a comment I left the other day. Go read the post, it's a good one.

In short, the conversation is about the definition of sex. Most people can agree that if you give someone a kiss, that doesn't count as sex. Most people can agree that if there is a penis in a vagina and an ejaculation, that's sex.

It's the degrees in between that get fuzzy. For City Girl, the difference between fooling around and sex is penetration: "I define sex in a Clinton-esque fashion. (And, by Clinton, I mean Bill, not Hillary.) Did a guy penetrate me vaginally or anally with his cock? If so, then we had sex, and I’m carving another notch in my bedpost. If not, then I did not have sexual relations with that man."

At the end of the post, she asks her readers what their definition of sex is. For me, sex is based on the sex organs. My definition of sex includes things like hand jobs and oral sex.

On the logistics, City Girl and I differ. The interesting part, though is that, in a way, we agree more than we disagree. Even though we draw the line differently, we draw it for the same reason. The border between fooling around and sex for both of us is based on emotion. She said, "I can disconnect my emotions from hands and oral, but I can’t disconnect from traditional or anal sex." My emotions get tied in a lot sooner than hers is all.

And Then There Was a Vibrator

2010-03-30T13:21:00.003-06:00

Sunday night, after Mr. Curls had dropped off the boys with their mom, I went over to see him. This was the first time since I got my X-rated mail that he and I had a chance to be together privately. When I got there, he was pretty worn out from running around with the boys all weekend and the first thing we did was cuddle up on the couch. After the "how was your day" chit chat, I got brave enough to mention what I'd been thinking ever since I walked in the door.

"So, how tired would you say that you are?" I asked, oh-so-nonchalantly.

He gave me the look that said he knew exactly what I meant, then he said, "Oh, you know. Why, is there something in particular you had in mind?"

That's when I started blushing. "Um, well... Um. You know that package I mentioned? I, uh, brought it along and was wondering if you wanted to see what it was."

"Really?" He said it slowly, smiling and enjoying watching me squirm. "Hrm... that's interesting. Yeah, I think I might be kind of curious."

A couple minutes and significantly less clothing later came a bit of show and tell and then a bit of other things.

"So, what do you think?" I asked him afterward.

"What do you think?" He countered.

"I like adding it in. You?"

"I like it. It was interesting to feel the vibrations through you. I liked that. I especially like that you like it."

The experiment went well. I'm glad. Not just for, ahem, obvious reasons. I'm also glad that I was confident enough with him to even bring up the sex toy idea, much less use one. We're getting each other figured out and I'm getting more comfortable with taking something that had, for years, been a solo activity and turning it into a team sport.

Meeting the Kids Dum Dum Dum!

2010-03-29T11:07:00.007-06:00

"Are you nervous?" Mr. Curls asked Friday.
"No, not really. You?"
"Um... yeah," he admitted.
I gave him an extra tight hug and sent him on his way.

Saturday, I got to the mall a couple minutes before Mr. Curls and the kids did. I watched them walk up, thinking, "That's them. Those are the kids." Then I gave Mr. Curls a hug hello and got introduced to the boys and we were off to play black light mini golf.

We got set up with our neon golf balls and clubs and decided to tee off in order of height. The nine year old went first, then me, then the other boy, then Mr. Curls. I was entertained that the only one shorter than me was nine. I was especially entertained 'cause I was wearing boots that have an inch and a half heel on them.

Mr. Curls won the first round of golf so I propositioned the boys. "Alright guys, one of us has to beat him this time." They were all over that idea. As Mr. Curls got ready to take his shot on the first hole, me and the boys made faces at him to ruin his concentration. It worked, too. The teenager won round two. As I told Mr. Curls, ganging up on him was a calculated move 'cause I didn't want the boys to feel like I was competition for his attention or such, so if I could be on their side, then it'd help avoid that interloper feeling.

At any rate, after round two, and Mr. Curls carefully recalculating the score card, the boys and I high-fived each other. Golf score aside, it was definitely a win because of how well the boys and I were getting along. After golf, we did lunch at the food court, then the boys went to the game store, giving me and Mr. Curls a minute alone.

"What do you think?" Mr. Curls asked, with just a touch of nervousness still in his voice.
"I think they're very much like you. I like them."
"Good."
"What do you think?"
He smiled, visibly more relaxed. "I think today was a good day."

He called later that night to tell me he'd talked with the boys about meeting me after they left the mall. They said they liked me. By then, I wasn't too worried, since there had been a couple things during the afternoon that told me as much - like the nine year old saying, "You're gonna come back to the apartment with us, aren't you?" So, you know, I wasn't too worried that they'd hated me.

Now I've met the kids. On to the next milestone.

It Came In the Mail, or the X-Rated Package

2010-03-27T11:10:00.008-06:00

Mr. Curls and I, in short, have both been out of practice in terms of bedroom shenanigans. This resulted in a bit of awkwardness at the beginning, even a little more so than the typical awkwardness that comes from sleeping with someone new. But, like with many things, practice helps.

"And," I said, "in terms of things to practice, this is certainly a fun one."

He blushed, hid his face in a pillow for a second, then he leaned over and kissed me. "True," he said.

Practice helps, and the other day I was thinking that it might be interesting to add in another type of help. (Gosh, I'm blushing already, I can feel it.) Once, a couple years ago, I ordered a vibrator from Babeland. Last week I put in another order. This time for the Babeland Silver Bullet vibrator. I mentioned this to Mr. Curls the other night, and his reaction was a combination of surprise and curiosity. "Really?" he said. "Hrm..."

Yesterday, my package arrived. Since he was with his kids, I was left to my own, er, devices. I mean, since it was a new thing, it only seemed right to test it out before adding Mr. Curls into the mix. Test it I did. It was the best thing I've gotten in the mail in quite some time. (Note to self: put batteries on the shopping list.)

During our phone chat last night, we got to talking about it.

"In other news," I said, "that package I was telling you about came today."

"Oh," he said. "Interesting."

We talked about sex toys for a while. I almost asked him if he's used them with a partner before, but I balked. I know he's got the exes, and intellectually I know he had sex with them. I just don't want to really think about that. I knew if I asked, he'd tell me, and then I'd visualize and... ugh, just didn't want to go there.

At any rate, the general outcome of the conversation was that he's open for experimenting. He seemed a little nervous about it at first, because I think the first thing he imagined when I said sex toy was strap-on (mostly because of an unfortunate experience he had helping someone move and accidentally discovering theirs when they asked him to pack up some clothes). But, once I described it, he was more relaxed. I told him, "The idea is that it's complimentary."

"Right," he said. "I can see that." Then he paused. "So, did you try it out?"

"Um, yeah."

He laughed, 'cause he could hear the blush in my voice. "Hrm..." he said. It sounded like he was grinning.

Looking at Dead People + Tacky Dining + Blizzard = The Birthday Date

2010-03-25T19:47:00.005-06:00

Last week, aka Friday of the snowstorm, Mr. Curls and I trekked to Denver to visit the museum of Nature and Science. His birthday was that Wednesday, yup, his Bday is on St. Patrick's. So, our excursion was a kind of birthday field trip, which was cool. (Side note: now that he's officially 33, I may have made an old man joke or two. That is, until he pointed out that while some might call him a cradle robber, it would be just as appropriate to call me a grave robber, and I've made fewer old man jokes since then.)

It was the perfect day, too, lemme tell ya. Driving through snow to get there was fun. Also, I was feeling pretty lousy from the cold/strep, but I didn't want to put it off 'cause I was looking forward to the museum. Yes, I am a nerd. Sue me. Once we got there, I decided to spring for the extra tickets to check out the Body Worlds exhibit. Way cool, and also surreal. Being able to walk through it with Mr. Curls and see him have the same reaction to it that I did was nice. It's not everyone's cup of tea, and certainly not for the faint of heart, but it was fascinating and he gets it.

After the museum, Mr. Curls wanted to go to Casa Bonita (as seen in South Park!) for dinner. The last time I'd been there was a field trip in third grade and I was afraid it wouldn't seem as cool now that I'm a grown up. Luckily, I had nothing to be worried about. It was way fun. We got a table right by the waterfall/diving pool and got to see the diver do his show while we ate. After, we went to the arcade and played silly games to win tickets and get silly prizes. I am now the proud owner of a set of chattery teeth and a rubber pirate ring that lights up.

Then, the drive home was outright blizzard-y for about half the way. It took an extra hour to get home, plus a stop to clean off the wipers so I could see through the windshield again. Mr. Curls was calm enough about me driving through the storm, which was a relief. There's nothing more fun than driving in bad conditions with a freaking out passenger. There was a spot or two where he got nervous, so it's not like he was oblivious, just that I was careful and he didn't think I'd kill us.

He told me later that I'm now on the list of about three people other than him who he trusts to drive in crappy weather. "There have been times when I've been riding with someone in bad conditions," he said, "and I have literally asked them to either let me drive or let me out."

All together, it was a very eventful day. It was also a day that could have ended with frayed nerves and us snapping at each other, but it didn't, which makes me happy.

Mr. Curls Is Off the Hook

2010-03-25T10:04:00.000-06:00

I went to the doctor's office this morning 'cause this cold I've been fighting has felt like more than just a cold. After a quick once-over, the doctor said, "Looks like strep."

"I thought it might be something like that."

"Have you been around anyone who's had strep?"

"My dad had it a while back."

"Looks like you've got him to thank."

It seems it's all my dad's fault and Mr. Curls is completely absolved of guilt. Mr. Curls was pleased to hear that ;) Now I have to give my dad the what-for.

Chocolate Ice Cream For Lunch, Or At Least There's an Good Part of Dying From a Cold

2010-03-24T12:23:00.002-06:00

After days of, "I think I'm getting better, really," this morning I finally admitted to myself that I wasn't and set up a doctor's appointment for tomorrow. I'm thinking maybe I have a sinus infection. It's awesome, lemme tell ya.

I had to run to the grocery store today and as I passed the freezer section, I thought, "I know I probably shouldn't... but the back of my throat is all painful and hot and I do have bananas at home."

So, I caved and I must say my tonsil area did start feeling better as I ate my ice cream. The cold medicine with acetaminophen probably didn't hurt, either.

Boys Really Do Have Cooties

2010-03-17T09:48:00.002-06:00

Back when I was with my ex, I'd get sick a couple times a year. Since we split up, I didn't get sick. Not once in nearly three years. Now I'm with Mr. Curls. Guess who's sick?

It's more than just coincidence. I swear. With my ex, I was working at the bar (can you say germ infested?) and after we split up, I was still working at the bar. So, the only change was the ex. Nearly three years after that, while I worked at the bar, taught undergrads on campus, and for a brief time, did both, I didn't get sick. And, lemme tell you, undergrads are not entirely sanitary and I don't even want to know what that stain on their paper is. Get me?

Then, Mr. Curls and BAM! cold. What's the difference? Not the job.

See, the thing is, when single, I only had my own germs to contend with and those could be fought with simple things like washing my hands a lot and not kissing students on the mouth. You know, common sense. Now I have my own germs, plus Mr. Curls' germs, which means all the everything he comes into contact with, plus, depending on what weekend it is, all the things his kids come into contact with. And, since I am kissing Mr. Curls on the mouth, it's not something that can be dodged through washing my hands a lot.

When I told Mr. Curls this, he didn't believe me. "I'm not sick," he said. "I couldn't have given anything to you." But, the facts speak for themselves ;)

Everything's a trade off. Being in a relationship with a guy I adore is lovely, but I could have passed on the sore throat, thank you very much.

Mr. Curls Gets Nervous, But It's Okay Because He's Outnumbered

2010-03-15T11:15:00.007-06:00

Last night me and Mr. Curls talked more about meeting the kids. He's nervous about it. When I asked him why, he had a hard time answering. It has to do with his latest ex, and concern for his kids, and the worry that me and them will get attached to each other and then I'll do a runner. I get it.

He talked to his sister about it. She's got two kids of her own from her first marriage, so she gets it. But, as she pointed out, "From the sound of it, she's not going anywhere soon, and you don't want her to. Besides, she seems nice. It'll be fine."

I think hearing that from her eased his mind a bit. Also, the fact that both me and the kids are interested in meeting each other helps. Probably didn't hurt that they gave him a bit of grief about it. "We don't think she really exists, dad," they said. "We think you're just making her up." Though, they admitted, if he really were making me up, he could at least have made up a girlfriend who's something, anything else other than a teacher. E, the nine year old, was sorely disappointed that I teach English of all things. Apparently, he'd prefer I was a science teacher. Hard to argue that, though. Doing experiments and occasionally blowing stuff up truly would be way cooler than grading papers all the time.

In any event, he isn't quite ready to name the date, but it'd bet we'll all start getting to know each other the next time he has the boys for the weekend, which means the weekend after next.

Taking It Slow, Taking the Plunge

2010-03-14T11:11:00.005-06:00

This post is a kind of follow up to my last one. Over the past couple of days, I've had a couple of conversations with Mr. Curls about his social circle and his kids. I brought up my interest in getting to know his circle better, and he pointed out that, right now, the people who are close to him are largely far away. The most important people to him are his "sister" who's in town, his "brother" who's a couple hours away, his kids, who live an hour and a half away, and his parents, who're in Florida. He gets along well with his coworkers, but they don't especially hang out a lot.

In short, the fact that he's been meshing with my circle more than I've been meeting his is primarily a geography thing. Since I've mentioned an interest in getting more involved with his friends, he kind of made a mental note and said one of his coworkers had made a comment about how he should have Mr. Curls and me over for a BBQ. So, maybe I'm doing a BBQ in the near future.

Then, there are the kids. This weekend is Mr. Curls' weekend with his boys. We were together Friday afternoon right before he left to pick them up. He looked at the clock, which said it was time to go, and sighed. "It's bittersweet," he said. "On one hand, the good part is spending time with the boys. On the the other hand, it means leaving you."

"Since you bring it up," I said. "I had a thought about that." I told him that, while I understood his reservations about me meeting the kids, I didn't want to wait two more months.

On my last post, City Girl commented that it'd be a good idea to warm up to meeting the kids, "Would there be a way for him to incorporate you more into his world without meeting his kids? Baby steps (pun intended)." Then there's the advice of a friend of mine who's currently involved with a divorced dad, "Put off meeting the kids for as long as humanly possible. Don't get me wrong, I like my boyfriend's daughter, but... wait as long as you can."

It's sound advice on both fronts. Kids are big, why rush it? Take it slow, etc. However, for me, I'm looking at it kind of the other way around. I've already taken the plunge with Mr. Curls. The other milestones we've hit, the way I feel about him... it all adds up to me being committed to this relationship. It's gone past the point of wondering if I'll meet his kids and to the question of when. And, given my personality, a lot of times in these types of situations, I'd just as soon do it quicker than wait. My decision of when to have sex with Mr. Curls was based on the same kind of thinking. It's going to happen. It's right for it to happen. Let's just do it now.

Also, I like kids. I genuinely enjoy them. Just because I'm not chomping at the bit to push one of my own out through my lady bits doesn't mean I don't like them. I think it'd be fun for the four of us to all do things together. I'm having visions of mini golf and goofing around at the park, etc. I always liked babysitting, and this would kind of be like that - spend some time with the kids, then send them home. Perfect.

Put it all together, when I'd think of the idea of waiting, I'd ask, "What's the point?" I've accepted the idea that they're part of the Mr. Curls package deal, so let's get on with it. I know, I know, it seems over simplified. I swear I've thought about the complications as best I can without having gone through the experience before. I know it's not so easy. I just know that if I'm going to be dealing with it sooner or later, I'd just as soon do it sooner. No use putting it off.

So, I brought up the idea of me meeting the kids sooner than May. More like in two weeks when he has the boys again, or the two weeks after that. I told him he didn't have to decide right away, and he's thinking it over. Yesterday, on the phone, he said he'd talked to the boys about it. One of them asked, "But what if she's like the last one?"

"I really don't think she is," he said. I guess that satisfied them because when they were walking past the glow golf thing (indoor mini golf with black lights) at the mall later on, one of the boys said that's what we should do when they meet me. I take it as a good sign that me and the boys are already thinking alike.

I'm going to see Mr. Curls tonight after the boys have been picked up. I'm thinking that by tonight he may have decided on when would be a good time for me to meet them. It's intimidating, but in for a penny, in for a pound, right?

Another Offspring Conversation

2010-03-12T09:20:00.002-07:00

Last night, while I was on the phone with Mr. Curls, the subject of his kids and me meeting them came up again. It started with him telling me about a conversation he had with one of his good friends who lives a couple hours away.

"He asked me when I'd bring you and the boys up to visit. I told him it wouldn't be for a while yet, that you and I are taking things slow."

He kind of hesitated, like he was gauging my reaction. Testing the idea, maybe? When we've talked about meeting the kids, Mr. Curls has said that sometime before the boys are on summer break was what he was thinking. I'm thinking summer break is still two months away. I'm thinking that two more months of Mr. Curls going MIA every time he has the boys for the weekend is not ideal.

I'm not saying I've got mommy cravings, but the idea of Mr. Curls being totally off limits just 'cause his kids are with him is something I'm over. Not that I want to meet the kids ASAP, but two more months seems long.

Part of it, too, might be that Mr. Curls has met my people. He's come with me to a few social gatherings with my people. He's getting to be part of my whole circle. Then, on his side, I went to the wedding. I didn't really get to talk to his people much, 'cause they were busy with the wedding, and the most I've really talked to anyone who's important to him is a handful of sentences. I know it's not a matter of him trying to keep me a secret, but it does seem like there's some hesitation on his part about me mixing too much with his people.

He said something about how he was worried that me meeting the boys might scare me off. He said it jokingly, but the joke was kind of forced. It's like he wants to keep me separate because he's worried that I'll only like him outside of his natural habitat or something. It's weird. Or, maybe it's the novelty of the new girlfriend? I'm all new and shiny, so I'm like the new hobby that's pulled him away from his routine and the socializing that went with it? I dunno. It could be something, it could be nothing, but either way, I think it merits a mention.

I've become invested in Mr. Curls. He's important enough to me that I like being a part of his life. Now, I want to be involved with the rest of the parts of his life.

Tempting Rejection

2010-03-11T09:12:00.003-07:00

Since my teaching gig where I work is
a. part-time
b. not permanent
c. due to politics, less secure than I'd like

I've decided to contact the appropriate person at the local community college about the possibility of picking up a class or two there so I can have a backup and/or extra moolah. I've been procrastinating contacting this person because I'd essentially be doing a cold call while asking for a job. Ugh. I hate that.

But, better to contact her, get shut down, and KNOW, right? So, off goes the e-mail with the introduction of who I am and all that jazz. Off goes the CV. Then comes... what? A job or a rejection? I don't know which'd be worse, a quick reply or a slow one.

I do know that even one more class for fall semester would help with that whole repaying student loans thing. Damn student loans. After all these years of schooling and I've finally finished my MA just so I can do work that pays me less than I'd be making if I worked full time at McDonalds. Whoo-hoo! Education is so worth it!

Mom keeps telling me that I'll find a real job soon. She tells me I'll find not only a real job, but a really great real job. She can feel it in her bones, she says. Yet, every time I look at job listings, all I see are openings for nurses, sales people, or cleaners. Damn economy.

How terrible is it that I'm at a point where I think being a receptionist somewhere would be a really sweet gig?

Stress Dreams

2010-03-10T15:19:00.002-07:00

I'm about to go to class, and part of me would rather play hookey. I wonder what my students would think of that? They'd be excited. They'd cheer me on. "Yes!" They'd cry, "Let's cancel class today!"

Last night I had a horrible dream. It was a work-related stress dream. In it, I was in class and all the students were misbehaving and I was yelling and it was terrible. I feel like I've already done my day's worth of teaching - more than, even. Ugh. Thanks subconscious.

The Envelope

2010-03-09T15:15:00.004-07:00

Mom and dad are off to visit my brother for twelve days and they, mom in particular, wanted to see me before they headed to the airport. I stopped by on my way to campus and, along with just wanting to say bye, they also had something for me. Or, rather, something for me to give to Mr. Curls.

Mom handed me a bag of cookies, for me, and an envelope addressed to Mr. Curls.

"What's this?"

"Is your name on it?" Mom asked.

"No."

"Then you don't need to know, do you?" She winked.

Oh dear. Knowing my mom, it's a card that says something like, "It was nice to meet you." It's just a little weird, you know? I hope it doesn't freak Mr. Curls out. There's something stuffed inside the envelope along with the card, too, and my curiosity is killing me. A cookie, perhaps? I dunno. But, mom and Mr. Curls are exchanging correspondence now, it seems. Not sure what to make of that.

Bishop Castle

2010-03-08T13:34:00.001-07:00

Mr. Curls and I are both native Coloradans. This means we should've known better than to plan a trip up to see Bishop Castle (Google it!) in March. We especially should've known better than to plan a picnic for said excursion. But, with the gorgeous run of weather we've had lately in the lower elevations, we forgot that the weather in town and the weather in the mountains are two different kettles of fish. As we drove higher and higher up the mountain in Mr. Curls' Jeep, the snow got deeper and deeper.

"Hmm..." he said.
"Indeed," I said.
"We didn't really think this through, did we?"
"Nope."
Then he reached over and turned up the heater to counterbalance the draft coming through the Jeep's battered rag top.

We finally arrived and, after a brief jaunt to check out the picnic area, we promptly decided to picnic in the Jeep instead. Then, after lunch, we bundled up and roamed the castle, pausing often so I could get pictures.

It may sound weird, but I'm kind of glad for the misadventure. In part, because it just makes a funnier story that way, and in part because I got to see how he reacted to things going awry. When plans go sideways, that's when you really get to know people. Most anyone can be pleasant when things are going smoothly, but, throw a wrench in, and sometimes people get all bent out of shape and unpleasant.

Happily, Mr. Curls just shrugged it off, made a couple jokes, then gave me a hug and went tromping around the castle with me like it wasn't cold and windy at all. Then he got into the whole picture idea and even used my camera to get a few shots of his own. I also got to see his rock climbing skills in action when he climbed up the wall on one of the staircases to get a photo. Though, when he started speculating about how he could scale the outer wall of the castle, I asked him to kindly not 'cause seeing him climbing that high without any gear would scare the crap out of me. He was nice enough not to traumatize me.

If you have a chance to check out the castle, I definitely recommend it. It's a one of a kind. However, I'd highly recommend waiting until May-ish to make the trip.

Sleeping Together, In the Unconscious Sense

2010-03-07T22:13:00.003-07:00

For a while now, Mr. Curls and I have been circling the idea of a sleep over. Basically, he gets comfortable and drifts off, then I wake him up and send him home. One of the first nights this happened, he groggily said, "I'm tempted just to go set your alarm and climb back in bed."

"Not tonight," I said. "I'm not ready for that."

"Yeah? Why is that?"

"Two reasons. One, there are people who can fall asleep anywhere and I'm not one of them. I can have a hard time falling asleep, and it's easiest for me when everything is just so. Having you in bed with me would be something to adjust to." He nodded. "Two, being asleep means being totally helpless."

He got a look of concern then. "Are you worried I'll do something?" I had joked a few nights ago about pranking him if he fell asleep on my couch again. "I swear, I'd never do something to you when you're sleeping."

I laughed. "No, it's not that. It's me being worried that I'll do something embarrassing while I'm asleep. I don't even know whether or not I snore, for instance." The third part, which I'd mentioned in another sleeping conversation, had to do with the fact that being unconscious around someone is just about as intimate as you can get. For me, even more than sex, sleeping is about trust. At least during sex, there's a certain level of control/interactivity. Sleep is giving up control absolutely. Scary.

"Oh." He shrugged. "Well, since you fell asleep just a little the other night at my place, I already know you don't snore."

"Let me ask you this, then. I've said why it makes me nervous, but why do you like the idea so much?"

"Two things." He held up a finger. "One, I just think it's nice. Comfortable." He held up the other and grinned. "Two, I think I'd get more sleep."

Fast forward to Friday night. Mr. Curls came over to watch a movie, which we never quite got around to, on account of getting sidetracked. At a little past midnight, there we were, cuddled up in my bed, and he started to drift off. I laid there, debating what I wanted to do. Then I got up, turned off the light, got back in bed, and went to sleep.

I won't say it was the best night's sleep I've ever had. Having Mr. Curls in the bed screwed up my sleeping mojo and I woke a few times through the night and readjusted myself before I could fall asleep again. I will say I survived the experience. And, I will say that it was nice to wake up next to him in the early morning light and snuggle first thing.

There goes another milestone.

The Highlights Dilema

2010-03-03T16:30:00.003-07:00

The highlights I got in December have grown out enough that I need to do some maintenance. Except, now I'm trying to decide if I want to keep the highlights as-is, do them over in a different way, or just get them dyed back to my own hair color. Also, I have to decide if I'm brave/broke enough to try to do whatever I decide on at home.

Hrm... hard choices. Does anyone have suggestions?

Sleep Deprivation

2010-03-03T14:26:00.002-07:00

I've been tired a lot lately. It's all Mr. Curls' fault. Some nights I see him and we stay up late. Some nights I don't see him, so we talk on the phone until late. Since he gets up at four in the morning, he bears the brunt of the late nights, which makes me feel guilty. Then, I feel tired. Tired and guilty.

He thinks it's funny. One of his coworkers was threatening to call me while impersonating their boss and demand that I stop keeping Mr. Curls up late all the time.

Now I'm trying to grade papers to return to students, but I'm having a hard time focusing and all I can think of is how wonderful a nap would be. I'm calling Mr. Curls tonight when I get home from teaching, but I swear, it's going to be a short conversation. I admit I've said that before, like every time we talk on the phone, but tonight I mean it. Really. I swear.

Amanda's Turning Point

2010-03-02T11:44:00.004-07:00

Sunday, before Mr. Curls met me to head over to my parents' for brunch, I got a call from Amanda.

"Hey," I said. "Where have you been? I kept trying to get a hold of you yesterday, and you didn't answer your phone, punk."

"Believe me," she said, "You wouldn't have wanted to talk to me yesterday anyway. I was in a really, really bad mood."

"I know, that's why I was trying to talk to you. You needed someone to talk to."

"I'm feeling better now."

"I'm glad. So, talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

We had a long talk and I did my best to be helpful and supportive. It's hard when all I've got to work with is a phone line. She's at a crossroads right now, trying to make a difficult decision, and even though she knows in her gut what she should do, it's scary to actually do it. Change is always scary, and this is one of those situations where it'd be a very hard change. But, I believe it'd be for the best and I hope she can be brave enough to do it. I'll certainly be behind her all the way.

"All the signs point toward it," she said.

"I know."

"But, there's so much I stand to lose."

"I'm not saying it'd be easy. I'm just saying, at this point, it may be the only thing that will make you happy in the long term. I want you to be happy. You deserve it, and you aren't right now. If you do this, you'll give yourself the chance."

"I don't believe you," she said, lightening the serious tone by using a joke we share.

"You never do. I'm used to it. It's okay, though, 'cause I've been right every other time you haven't believed me. I'm optimistic that, one day, you'll notice the pattern and actually trust me on something."

She laughed, "Don't hold your breath."

The Day Where Mr. Curls Meets... Everybody

2010-03-01T11:07:00.004-07:00

Up to this point, Mr. Curls had met two of my friends. Then, on Sunday, he met just about everybody else who's important to me.

The first stop was brunch with my parents. He was a bit nervous, but I reassured him that it'd be fine. And, it was. They liked him, he liked them, and before long, they were getting along like it wasn't the first time they'd met. Since I was an easy target for getting picked on, they even had some common ground right away ;)

Once my mom had made sure Mr. Curls was well-fed, we were off to meet up with the big group of my writers' crew for dinner. We made a few stops in between to kill time between meals, then we met up with the gang. After the crew gave him the once over, especially the guys, they warmed up to him right away. He's good at getting along with people and it wasn't long before Mr. Curls was cracking a few jokes right along with everyone else.

On the drive home, Mr. Curls remarked, "Your parents, your friends, they act like they expect to see more of me."

"That's the plan."

He smiled. "I like that."

I was so glad that Mr. Curls hit it off with my parents and with my friends. The fact that they like each other is a good sign. I especially like the part where he wanted to meet them. The fact that when I brought up the idea of dinner, he was not just willing to go, but even excited, is important to me. He wants to know the people who're important to me.

Today, my parents came by to drop something off, and it didn't take them long to grill me.
"We didn't want to put him on the spot yesterday, but now we're going to put you on the spot," my dad said. "So... has he ever been married?"

I hesitated a moment, but since dad had asked me directly, I answered truthfully. A few more questions, and they were filled in on Mr. Curls' complications. They were thoughtful. Mom reminded me to be cautious.

"Yeah," I said. "We've talked about it all and we're taking things slow. If this is going to work out, we'll have plenty of time for things like me meeting his kids. No need to rush."

Mom nodded, reassured. "Good."

"He's more complicated that I would have hoped, but I really like him, and he's a good guy."

"Maybe we'll bring out the baby photos next time we see him," mom said, giving me a wink. So, my parents, like my friends, have their concerns, but they aren't telling me to run screaming.

"Something must be wrong with me," my dad said, "I actually like my daughter's boyfriend."

F*ing Arkansas

2010-02-27T10:34:00.003-07:00

With respect to Amanda's privacy, I don't want to get detailed here, but she's having a really hard time right now. She's in a place she hates, far removed from people she cares about, in danger of losing her job because of budget cuts, and her marriage is rocky from a combination of recent and long-term issues. In a nutshell, everything is piling up against her and I hate that she's so far away that I can't even do something with her to try and cheer her up. It's hard to do lunch from 1,600 miles away.

I'm really worried about her right now. Especially after last night. Yesterday I was feeling sick and, after offering to go on a soup run, Mr. Curls came over to watch a movie with me. At a little after ten, my phone rang. Nobody calls me that late, and when I saw it was Amanda, I excused myself to answer because late phone calls never bode well.

"Hey," I said. "What's up?"
She made a noncommittal, unhappy sound. "What are you doing?"
"Watching a movie with Mr. Curls, but since you're calling late, I wanted to make sure to answer in case something's wrong. Are you okay?"
"Not really, but you're busy. Go watch your movie. We'll talk tomorrow."
"Are you sure? I'm worried about you."
"I'm sure. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay. We'll talk tomorrow."

When I went back to the living room, Mr. Curls looked up from the couch. "Is everything okay?"
"Not really." I told him a little about what Amanda's going through right now.
"If you need to call her back, I understand. I can go. It's no problem."
I considered it. If I hadn't been feeling so under the weather and tired, I probably would have taken him up on it. But, I wasn't going to be much use in the state I was in, and I wanted to wait and talk with her when I could be more awake.
"It's okay. I'm going to talk with her tomorrow, when I'm less out of it." I sighed. "I just hate being so far away from her right now. I feel so useless."
"You're not. It may not seem like much, but just hearing a friendly voice, talking with a positive person, can really help."

(Score another point for Mr. Curls in the "keeper" column. He understands. He's been there. I wonder who the person he called was. My ex was either disinterested in or, later on, negative about my friends. Mr. Curls' attitude about the people who are important to me is a complete 180. It's something I really appreciate about him.)

I called Amanda first thing after I woke up this morning since I know she gets up earlier than I do. She was already out and about it seems. I got voice mail. Damn it. Tired, sick, and loopy or not, I should have talked with her last night.

I wish life was easier for her right now. I wish her husband was treating her better. I wish she wasn't so far away. I wish there was more I could do. Fucking 1,600 miles.

The Tipping Point

2010-02-27T09:58:00.003-07:00

Ever since I started seeing Mr. Curls, I've been waiting for the moment. From the moment he started talking to me at the bar, I've been waiting for that voice inside my head to scream, "run!"

I waited for it through our first few dates. I waited for it when he told me about the exes and kids. I waited for it the first time we slept together, and on and on. I kept waiting, and it didn't come. I expected it, because any time I get involved with a guy, any time I feel like I could really fall for someone, a piece of me gets terrified. During the beginning of my relationship with my ex, right after the first time we kissed, I heard that voice.

So, after all this time, with Mr. Curls, I've been waiting for it. When it didn't speak up all those times I thought it would, I wondered what was going on. "What the hell?" I thought. "How am I not freaking? I should be freaking. I have every reason to be having a panic attack. Where is it?" I mean, come on, all that baggage and I hardly batted an eye. What gives?

Turns out, it was just a matter of having the right trigger. The other day, at the wedding, I was standing at the driver's side of his jeep while Mr. Curls got his nice shoes on and I saw a pack of cigarettes on the door. I'd noticed a thing or two, like that stale smoke smell in his apartment, but had chalked it up to previous tenant because in all the time we've spent together, he's never taken a smoke break. So, I assumed non-smoker. When I asked him about it later, he got uncomfortable and said he's trying to quit. He's ashamed of the nicotine habit, but he's got one nonetheless.

Cue the voice. The whole time I was growing up, my mom smoked. I hated it and the smoke was so... oppressive and inescapable. Second hand smoke is something I have a strong, visceral revulsion to. Everything else I've taken in stride. Ex-wives? Okay. Kids? Okay. But, a few cigarettes and all I could think was, "I can't take this!" That's when I had my first thoughts about whether or not Mr. Curls was more than I could handle. That's when I had my first thoughts of, "How do I tell him it's over?"

I know, of all things, it may seem strange that that's my tipping point. The thing is, I'm glad for it. I recognize that moment for what it was, panic. At the same time, it was a reality check. It's the first official thing that I dislike about him. My whole thing so far has been that, while I'm not such a huge fan of some of his circumstances, I'm awful impressed by the guy himself. Except this. This I hate.

Up until now, I've been going along, believing that Mr. Curls could very well be my long-haul guy. Now I have doubt. Not that I want to call it off right now, but the rosy glasses are gone. Damn it. The smoking thing is typically one of the few hard-fast deal-breakers I have, but it's too late for that. At this point, it's too complicated for easy distinctions.

That's the annoying thing about relationships. They're complicated. My life would be so much simpler right now if I had stayed home from the bar that night. Such a little thing, the decision to walk out the door, but boy, look at the ripples.

The Wedding

2010-02-25T09:04:00.005-07:00

I met Mr. Curls at the courthouse, then we waited for everyone else to arrive. He and I got there first, the groom got there late, and everyone else was somewhere in between. I got to meet a handful of people that have known him for forever, including his "sister" who was very much the way I had pictured her - a lovely lady who's also very much a lady in charge. I also got to meet her mom, who's known Mr. Curls since he was born and is, as a result, rather protective of him.

After we were introduced, she smiled at me. "I'm so glad he found a nice woman." She shook her head, regretfully, "I don't know what he was thinking when he married the last one." So I got her official stamp of approval.

It was an adventure to be "the new girlfriend" at the wedding. Lots of "I've heard a lot about you" and looks that, while friendly, were also doing the math on whether or not I was okay. Everyone was pleasant to me, though with the wedding, they were also pretty focused on the event itself rather than me. I didn't get to know everyone as much as I would have liked to, but I did get a pretty solid impression. Mr. Curls' circle are all right people who keep an eye out for him and seem to think I'm okay. Cheers for that.

He and I took separate cars 'cause it was logistically impossible for me to climb into his Jeep while wearing a skirt. So, on the way out of the reception, as I was getting into my car, I saw one of his old friends walking to her car. She looked over, saw she could nab him while alone for a minute, and B-lined over to get the scoop.

In other news, I wondered if it'd feel weird to be at the wedding with the currently-in-the-middle-of-a-divorce Mr. Curls. I have to say, for the most part, I didn't think of it at all. No weirdness. Mostly, it was just nice to see two people get hitched and meet some of the people who are important to my guy.

Mr. Sleepy

2010-02-24T08:55:00.005-07:00

Mr. Curls has to get up early for work. I've been keeping him up late a lot, and this weekend he had his boys. Put it all together, and when he came over Monday night, he was one tired guy. We ordered pizza, then hit the couch to watch TV for a bit. After the first episode of Firefly I asked him if he wanted to watch another.

He hesitated. On one hand, it was the perfect time to move things into the bedroom. On the other, the couch was cozy and he was worn out. For my part, I was kind of tired, too, and I was feeling in more of a cuddly than sexy mood. "How about another episode?" he said, finally.

He nodded off for a moment here and there and by the time the credits were rolling, he had us stretched out on the couch with his arm around me and his head on my shoulder. I ran my fingers through his hair. He sighed.

"I should let you go home and get some sleep," I said.

"Umm hmm," he said. "In a minute."

A while later, after he was awake again, he apologized for being such a boring date. I was quick to reassure him that he'd been a very good date indeed. Curling up on the couch together isn't sexy, but it is nice and warm and made me feel secure and relaxed.

With my ex, our libidos weren't in sync. Part of it was a control issue, too. To him, he saw it almost as, "What's the point of having a girlfriend if not easy, frequent sex?" He controlled our sex life and there were times when I felt more like a blow-up doll than a person. But, he'd insist that an active sex life was a sign of a healthy relationship. Except, quantity and quality are not the same thing and if he was just going to use me essentially to masturbate, that's not a relationship. Another reason why it's best he's the ex.

Since V-Day, every day Mr. Curls and I have seen each other, we've had sex. Monday night was the first night we didn't and I was a little relieved. Unlike with the ex, seeing me wasn't just about getting boned. Now, that's not to say that I want to make a habit out of it or anything, but it was nice to not have to. Nice for it to be valid to be happy with just cuddling on the couch.

Also, Mr. Curls is way cute when he's sleepy. Waking up, he can't open his eyes right away, his hair's all mussed, and he gets really smiley. I won't go on about it, 'cause all I'd say is that obnoxiously cutesy stuff that new couples say about each other. Suffice it to say, though, that it's nice to see him with his guard all the way down. Like with me, it's not something that happens all that often. I like when it happens around me.

The Girlfriends' Verdict

2010-02-23T07:59:00.004-07:00

Sunday night, I met up with two gal pals for dinner. Coincidentally, they're the two of my friends who've met Mr. Curls. Needless to say, it didn't take long at all before J. started to grill me.

"So," she said, ever-so-casually, "what's new with you?"

I told them how much I liked him and then I told them about the baggage. They were pretty impressed. "Wow," said D.

"Tell me about it."

J. thought about it for a while and shrugged. "We all make mistakes. I know how that goes. I mean, I already had my son and was going through my own divorce when my husband and I started dating."

D. chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "And we all know what a keeper my first husband was."

We all laughed. Then D. added, commenting on J.'s husband, "You know, Mr. Curls kind of reminds me of him." And that, that was the stamp of approval.

Mom and Dad and Mr. Curls (Almost)

2010-02-22T08:43:00.003-07:00

Saturday night my parents invited me to go to a play with them. They also asked me if Mr. Curls would like to join us. Since it's his weekend to have his sons, I told them he had another commitment. I knew they were curious for more detail than that, but I'd like them to meet him just on his own, sans baggage, and that's pretty much what I told them last night.

After the play, I called Mr. Curls and when I mentioned that he'd been invited, he paused.
"So, if this had been next weekend, when I didn't have the boys, would you have been okay with me coming along?"

"Of course. I'd have checked with you first, to make sure you were okay with it, but sure. If you would have wanted to come, I would have wanted you to."

"Really?"

"Really."

Up until then, I hadn't ever mentioned the idea of him meeting my folks. Meeting the parents is intimidating. I didn't want to push it. I figured it'd happen in its own time, so there was no rush. Also, I wanted to meet some of his circle before I threw more of mine at him.

Given his reaction, I wonder if he might've been thinking I just didn't want him to meet my folks. The truth is, I'd love for him to know my family. My parents are good people who've been through a rough patch or two of their own, so I'm confident that they'll see in him the good things I see and not just the complications. Besides, given everyone's respective personalities, I'm also confident that they'll really get along with him. Mom and Dad have definitely reached the point of being really curious about him. Mom's casual invitation for him to join us was my mom's way of saying, "We'd like to meet this guy for ourselves."

I'll talk it over with him and maybe next weekend I'll introduce them to each other. My mom will be thrilled. My dad will also be pleased, but in more of a getting the chance to do the threat assessment on his daughter's new guy kind of way. It's just too bad my brother's all the way out in Florida, 'cause I know he and Mr. Curls would hit it off right away.

*Cue Dramatic Music

2010-02-21T09:17:00.001-07:00

A few days back, I was talking with my mom on the phone. While we were chatting, she says, oh-so-casually, "Has your brother called you?"

"Actually, he just tried while we were talking. I let it go to voicemail. What's up?"

"Oh, he just has a bit of maybe-good or maybe-bad news."

Immediately, I do "news" math. Mom's being cryptic and my brother, who never calls anybody, is trying to get a hold of me. What's the first thing that'd pop int YOUR head? "Well, mom. I better let you go and see if I can call him back."

I call. I get voicemail. Next I fire up my computer and go to Facebook, because his girlfriend is a Facebook fiend and if she's pregnant or she and my brother are engaged, I figure it's got to be plastered all over there by now. Especially, since she just had a status update about how her and my brother talked via webcam for the first time that day. I figure, a long-distance proposal by webcam could've happened. Nothing on the girlfriend's Facebook.

Logically, that made me think the news was something involving his pilot training for the Air Force. Maybe they'd found something in his physical or a test that made him ineligible for being a pilot.

The next day, at about five, my brother calls me. "So, mom says you have news."

He chuckled. Then his doorbell rang. "Oh, hey, I'm going to have to call you back."

It was perfect. Straight out of a sitcom. It took him an hour to call me back. An hour!

"Alright, brother, spill."

"Oh, about that. I'm selling my El Camino."

"What?"

"I guess that's the news mom was talking about. I'm selling my car."

"I'm gonna kill her. She gets me all worked up, for this? I'm gonna kill her."

Of course, by that point, my brother was laughing deep belly laughs. He thought it was hilarious. The reason he had to call me back was because someone had come to the house to look at the car. Someone who, a few days later, bought it.

Guess I'm not going to be an aunt, or a sister-in-law, quite yet. But, at least my brother's sold his car. 'Cause that's important to me.

A Wedding

2010-02-20T08:13:00.005-07:00

Mr. Curls has a sister. Well, he calls her his sister, but she's really a really close friend. Their moms were best friends and so they've grown up together and have been calling each other siblings since forever.

"That's weird," I said to Amanda, a few days after meeting him. "I mean, that is weird, right?"
"Um... is there any chance that he wants to sleep with her?"
"I really don't think so. And, she's engaged to another dude."
"Okay. It's fine then. He wants that kind of bond with someone and who knows better than you and I about how people use language to create connection?"
"I see your point." Duh. If anybody should understand the power of words, I should. I'm getting the English MA to prove it, even. So, now I get the "sister" thing. It's a quirk, but it makes sense.

It was his sister and her fiance who got him out of his apartment and dragged him out to the bar on the night we met. She's the one I have to thank for having a stranger walk up to me with the world's worst pick-up line. ("I totally didn't mean it as a line," he said, blushing. "I swear! I was curious. You don't see a lot of people sitting at a bar, drinking water and writing.")

Mr. Curls' sister is marrying the fiance on Wednesday, which will coincidentally be the first time I meet the sister. No pressure, now. I would have liked to have met her for the first time in a setting that's more low key, but the good news is that she'll be a little distracted and, if she'd be inclined to judge me harshly, won't have much time to what with the whole getting hitched thing going on. According to Mr. Curls, she likes what she's heard of me, so that's also good. But, she's one of the most important people in his life, so I really want her to have a good opinion of me.

I also wonder if it'll be weird to go to a wedding with a boyfriend who's been married twice already.

I'll just say I'm glad that the invite to go with him came kind of late because he had been assuming my teaching schedule conflicted with the wedding. This way, I don't have much time to worry about it.

Conversations About Kids

2010-02-17T08:15:00.006-07:00

"I don't want kids," I said.

My mom snorted and laughed like this was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

"I'm serious. I don't want kids."

"That's exactly what I used to say."

* * *

I was visiting my pen pal (aka one of my oldest and dearest friends) last year and she was telling me about her plan. "First comes the wedding, and then I'm still deciding what should come second, children or graduate school. On one hand, it'd be easier to do school without kids. On the other, if I want children, having them before I'm thirty is the best thing biologically."

"Wow, you've really thought this out. I like the idea of you with kids. You'd be a super mom."

"You know, I'd never seriously thought about kids until I was with my fiance. Then I saw what a wonderful guy he is and suddenly, the idea of having children with him was just the most natural thing in the world."

She looked over at me and gave me a sly look. "It might go the same way for you, you know."

"I wouldn't want to say never, but I will say don't hold your breath."

She gave me another look and smiled. "You'd be a good mom, too, you know."

* * *

"Well," Amanda said. "One good thing about Mr. Curls' baggage is that most guys who already have kids like that don't want more."

* * *

On V-Day, when we were talking more about the ex-wives and his sons, I brought it up. "I know it's early in the game to bring this up, but have you thought of whether or not you'd like to have more children?"

He thought for a moment. "When I was with my first wife, she had some miscarriages which were really hard on both of us. But, she didn't want to take the pill or use any kind of birth control."

"That's really weird."

He shrugged. "So, I got a vasectomy."

At which point, I thought, "Score!"

"But, at some point, I think I would like to have more children and a vasectomy is reversible. What about you?"

"I used to never want kids, and it was pretty straight-forward with my ex, because he didn't want children. But, in the past year or two, I've started to think maybe. If the circumstances are right, I might be open to it."

We didn't go any further down that train of thought. For now, that's all that needed to be said.

* * *

The truth is, the idea of getting pregnant, giving birth, and raising a child or two intimidates me like no other. There's the issue of the immense responsibility of raising a child, compounded by the fact that having children puts stress on a marriage. I saw a statistic about how the child-rearing years are the time period when divorce is most likely. Put the two together, and I'm scared.

But, I've been changing during the past year or two. I've been building relationships with people in a way I was too afraid to before. I've been teaching and, especially last semester, I saw that how I interacted with my students was changing who I was. They made me... warmer. Having all of these students who had to trust me and to whom I worked hard to prove that trust was merited, plus spending so much time trying to bring out the best in them, it changed me. Teaching college comp. is not the same as raising a child. I know this. However, if I can do one, it makes me just the littlest bit less afraid of doing the other.

Besides, having been so single for a couple of years made the kids thing a moot point. Even if I'm more negotiable on the idea of having children, I absolutely don't want to be a single mother. Now, suddenly, I'm with someone who makes me very happy. Someone who's a good dad to his sons and who desperately wishes he could be a bigger part of their lives. It's easy to see how fiercely he loves them.

In the right circumstances, I can see myself maybe having children. Ideally, those circumstances would factor in being married to a wonderful man, having a certain level of financial stability, and getting pregnant by plan instead of a "whoops." I want to be ready for children. If I have them, I want to be able to love them fiercely, without ever thinking about how they happened too soon, or with the wrong guy, or any kind of thing like that. If I have kids, I owe it to them to be over the moon that they came into my life.

Now, for the first time in my life, I'm closer than ever to possibly seeing those circumstances happen. It's still far too early to seriously expect to be with Mr. Curls long term, and I'm still terrified at the idea of being a mom. So, I'm not saying I'm picking out baby names or anything like that. All I'm saying is that my mom is a smart lady (she knew before I did that me and the ex were nearing the end) and my pen pal knows me inside and out. Kids haven't really been part of the plan for my life, but I'm not going to say never.

I'm Officially Closing My Eyes and Holding On Tight

2010-02-16T09:00:00.004-07:00

Last night, I looked at Mr. Curls and watched him for a minute. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I'm thinking how strange you are."

He smiled. "How's that?"

Then I tried, as best I could, to articulate what I meant. I told him that it's so unfamiliar to me, what with my own issues, to get so close to someone so fast. That it's alien to me to have someone who hasn't even known me all that long be so intent on getting close to me. It's not to say that I haven't been working hard this past year or two on getting past keeping people at a distance, but it's still a relative scale - warm and friendly for me is still pretty reserved for most folks. So, it's weird.

"It's strange," he said. "We've been going kind of slow, but it feels like it's all happened so fast, too."

Throughout this whole thing, as I get more entangled with him and start to get used to the idea of thinking about him as the boyfriend, I keep feeling like this whole thing is surreal. Is he real? Is this really happening?

He isn't perfect, and I'm still getting used to the idea of his kids and exes, but I'm slowly becoming more convinced that he just might be exactly what I need. The thought scares the hell out of me. If I start to expect him to be there. If I start to rely on him, how long after until it all goes wrong?

This is the part where I have to have faith. This is the part where I believe that even though others have let me down in the past, he isn't them. This is when I remind myself that even though relationships end all of the time, sometimes they last, and sometimes they last for all the right reasons.

It's pessimistic to think I'm only setting myself up to get hurt. So, I go cautiously and I try to have faith. It's not something I'm good at, but then he does something, or says something, or even just looks at me a certain way, and it suddenly becomes a lot easier.

My Curly-Haired Valentine, or Mr. Curls Gets Laid

2010-02-14T23:40:00.004-07:00

Mr. Curls and I spent the afternoon and most of the night together today. I cooked us dinner, we rented a movie, and we talked more about his relationship history. I was nervous bringing it up, but needed to understand more about it. He was uncomfortable talking about it, but he puts a high premium on honesty and being straight with me, so he told me about wife #1 and wife #2, with more info on #2 since that story's more recent. He regrets the whole wife #2 thing, but until someone invents a time machine, there's not much he can do to change it.

I appreciated that he was straight with me, especially since it's a subject he'd rather not talk about. But, I learned the most important thing I wanted to learn, that the rebound marriage episode was a mistake and not a pattern.

It's weird that, given his past, we've had to be so up front so quickly. We've talked about issues that most couples don't talk about this early, but I wouldn't say it's a bad thing. Just a matter of having less being eased into things and more being chucked in the deep end. But, I'm still feeling okay with the complications. I'm cautious, but I don't hear alarms going off in the back of my mind.

So, it was with all that in mind (and the fact that my period's decided to hold off just a bit longer), that I decided tonight would be a good night to sleep with him. I was nervous, and so was he, and I'm mostly just glad that the first time is behind us now. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? But, couples get better at sex after they've had a chance to know what the other person likes. Our 2nd time will be better, and so on.

I'm glad we had sex tonight. It made me more relaxed with him, because first-time sex was the biggest scary thing for me, and now we've had it. Scary thing over. We stayed in bed a good long while after, cuddling and talking and I didn't freak out. Okay, maybe a very, very small voice whispered in my head to run (or, rather, kick him out), but it was more a reaction to me internalizing this whole girlfriend idea - him saying the word was one thing, but having sex is what really hit it home.

On a side note, he gave me a present today. When he said he wanted to give me something, I was a little worried that it'd be something too big, something expensive or whatnot. Turns out, the present was perfect - a necklace that's beautiful but inexpensive and I love it to death. I wore it all day today and when I hung it up after he left, it made me smile. I've got boyfriend jewelry :)

I've got a boyfriend.

I've got a boyfriend with a complicated past, but one who's warm and sweet and respectful and all kinds of other things that make me believe he's worth the complications. I'm in it now. I've officially crossed over the line into believing that this is an genuine relationship. The thought makes me a bit light headed, but in a good way.

Isn't it ALWAYS Bad Timing?

2010-02-14T08:21:00.003-07:00

Things with Mr. Curls have been getting more physical and I've been doing a gut check on whether or not I'm ready to sleep with him. He's not in a rush and neither am I, but I was thinking that today would be a good day for the ever-so-indelicate STDs talk. I was thinking that, maybe after that talk, depending, today might be the right day to break my long-term celibacy.

No, it's not because it's Valentine's Day. Honest-to-Bob. It's pure timeline of how long we've been seeing each other and an indicator of having hit certain important mile markers that make me feel ready for being all the way physical. Last night I changed my sheets. This morning, I had a stress dream about having sex with him. It's been a long time since I've been in the sack with anybody, and I've only ever slept with one person before, so yeah, I'm a bit nervous.

Anyhow, I've been getting myself geared up. Then, wouldn't you know it, this morning I noticed the tell tale signs of my oncoming period. Stupid uterus. I don't want to have my period right now. Having sex with Mr. Curls for the first time is plenty to deal with all on its own, the last thing I need to worry about on top of that is blood coming out of my crotch. I don't mind period sex, but I absolutely don't want that to be the first type of sex I have with him. F*ing period.

The V-Day Plan

2010-02-13T11:40:00.005-07:00

The other night, post baggage-reveal, Mr. Curls brought up V-Day.
"So," he said, "Sunday..."
"Oh yeah, that thing."
He chuckled. "I was wondering what your opinion of Valentine's day is."
"Pretty neutral, really. When I was with someone, we'd do something low key, and I liked it low key. I'm not interested in making it into a big deal."
"Same here. Though, would you mind if I got you something?"
"I would think it was sweet, but don't feel like you have to."
"But if I did, that'd be okay, right?"
"Yeah, that'd be okay."
"Good."

We sorted the rest of the details out today. He's going to come over for an early dinner and we'll rent a movie. I told him that since he cooked for me the other night, I'd cook for him tomorrow. He insisted that I didn't have to, that he'd be perfectly happy with leftover runny lasagna (his cookery didn't turn out quite perfect, though it was still tasty). I get the feeling that he's not used to people doing nice things for him. It feels like he's usually the one doing nice things for other people.

Amanda and I had a long-ass phone conversation yesterday which covered, among other things, the latest updates with Mr. Curls. On the kids & ex-wives, she said, "You've just got to decide if you can handle it when it starts to affect your life, because it will affect your life if you're with him long enough. If you decide that you want to, I think that if anyone can handle it, you can." We talked a little about his marriages, too, and the part where I'm most concerned with the second marriage and how quickly it happened after the first - rebounding is one thing, a rebound marriage is more troubling. She mentioned the word "codependent," and I didn't argue with her. I don't know enough yet to draw conclusions, but there does seem to be a streak of it in him. We'll see. Depending, maybe I'm just the right kind of girl for him since I'm so independent. He may want somebody to swoop in and take care of, but I do a good job taking care of myself most of the time. I'm not looking for a savior, I'm looking for a partner.

All in all, I'm still cautious, but optimistic. There are so many things about him that I like, and I love being around him, and the way I feel about him is different from the way I've felt about anyone since the beginning of my relationship with my ex. Mr. Curls has a lot of complications, but I want to take this pair of shoes around the block. They might be scuffed, but they fit amazingly well.

F*ing Corsage

2010-02-13T11:06:00.003-07:00

Last night was the father-daughter dinner and dance. I've been dreading it ever since I committed to going, but I tried to go into it optimistically 'cause half of our experiences of things come from our expectations - i.e. if you go to a part thinking "this is going to be the worst thing ever" you've got a self-fulfilling prophecy and you're not going to enjoy yourself. If you do the opposite, and look for the good parts, you have an easier time having fun.

I wish I could stay I did a better job of being positive, but to say I wasn't excited about the event is an vast understatement. My dread had nothing to do with spending time with my dad. I love my dad, he's a good man, and I like spending time with him. No, my negativity had everything to do with the event in and of itself. For some gals, the idea of dressing up in a fancy dress causes them to make high-pitched squeal-y noises. For some gals, the idea of going to a dance makes them happy. Not me. I've been to only a few dances in my life and I've enjoyed exactly none of them. I have a passionate dislike for those kinds of things - getting dressed up so I can go to a place where I'm surrounded by strangers so I can hang around awkwardly with someone all the while wishing I were somewhere else. A.k.a. my freshmen year valentine's dance, a.k.a. fucking prom.

It's not to say that I'm a hater, it's just that it'd take a very specific set of circumstances for me to enjoy myself at an event like that, and these circumstances were not those. My dad and I don't go for formal, so both of us going to a formal thing together is not ideal. Also, given the place the event was held, there was a fair chance of running into one of my students, and the last thing I want any of my students to see me as is someone's daughter - as a young instructor, I've got to do everything I can to hold onto my authority and being put in the cutesy daughter role (which is implicit in this kind of event) is not an authority-builder.

Right. So, my dad arrived at my house with a pin on corsage in hand. Talk about salt in the wound. I couldn't pin the thing on right, and then when it was on, it kept pulling my blouse down so I was flashing my bra and I re-pinned the horrible thing a dozen times, but I couldn't get it right and the pins kept sticking me. The best part was when we arrived, I saw that one of my students was, in fact, at the event. Or, rather one of my ex-students. I'll skip the details, but this was a non-traditional student who was at the event with his daughter. He had been enrolled in one of my classes this semester until there was a conflict where I was holding to my class policy (as stated in the syllabus I distributed on the first day) and he was upset because he felt it unfair. There was some drama, and he dropped my class. He was right behind us in the line at the door and then again at the line at the buffet. It was AWESOME. Fortunately, he didn't want to talk to me.

Then, later, the icing on the cake was when the event organizer was doing the boring "I'd like to thank" routine and she called up some dude who was a sponsor. "Fathers," he said. "I'd like you to take your daughter's hand." My dad took my hand. The guy continued, "Lord, I'd like to thank you for our daughters..." Yup, it was Jesus time. As an atheist, astonishingly enough, I was not pleased with the prayer. This was a public, not religious, event and I was offended that the guy just assumed we all wanted to pray about it.

In a nutshell, I was tense and uncomfortable the whole time we were there and I found it extremely difficult to pretend otherwise. We left early and came back to my house where we drank some hot cocoa and talked. That was much nicer than the dance and I finally relaxed. If I'm going to spend time with my dad, it's infinitely better if it's a mellow kind of thing. Just let us play cards, or fiddle with something on my car, or cook some dinner, anything else, just not a formal dance with all that emotional pressure to feel all mushy about our relationship. That shit is torturous.

Sorry dad, but when this thing comes around next year, there is no way in hell I'm going again. I'd rather help you rotate the tires on your truck.

I Knew There Was Baggage, I Didn't Know It'd Be a Complete Set

2010-02-12T01:55:00.003-07:00

Holy mother load, Batman! We have baggage!

Mr. Curls cooked dinner for me tonight and it was sweet and adorable, even when he was running late because he got tied up at work and even when the lasagna came out runny. I made chocolate fondue for dessert and afterward, we cuddled on the couch. After a while, he said something along the lines of, "Where do you see this going?"

I thought about how to phrase it. "Well, I'd like to keep you around for a while."

"I would like that too. I would like that very much. And, if that's the case, then there are some things I should probably tell you."

The first thing he told me was that he's got two kids, ages 13 & 9. They live about an hour and a half away, with his ex-wife. Whew, talk about a lot to take in. He and the ex were married nearly eleven years, then things went downhill.

We talked about that a little. He was trying to gauge how freaked out I was, and I was trying to figure that out too. I told him, "I've never really dealt with this sort of thing before. It's complex, but not inherently bad. I'm okay with feeling it out as we go." Then I asked, "Is there anything else I should know?"

He hesitated. "After the divorce, I started dating again and met someone. We got married and it lasted about two months before she decided she'd rather be single."

"How long ago did you split up?"

"About a year and a half ago, I asked for a divorce."

"Is it finalized yet?"

"It took her a long time to sign the paperwork, so it's not finalized yet. But, we haven't been together for over a year."

I waited for him to spring more surprises, but it seems that's the whole shebang. Not that I want any more, mind you. Not in the least. That's more than enough for me to process. I mean, fuck, two kids, two ex-wives. That's plenty.

I'm still processing it, feeling it out. The 1st wife and kids is more than I expected, but not a wholly unexpected variety of baggage. The 2nd wife and the not-yet-finalized-divorce is the part that bothers me more. Though, and maybe it's stupid of me, I can't help but want to overlook the beat up suitcases in favor of how he's sweet and thoughtful and all kinds of other wonderful things that make me smile when I think about him.

It's complicated, but we both want to try to make this work. He asked if it'd be okay if he called me his girlfriend and I just did the official Facebook switch-over from "single" to "in a relationship." I mean, hell, I've always gotten along best with the married guys who had kids. Now it looks like I'll get my chance to date one. But, that 2nd divorce better get finalized damn quick. The sooner I can stop thinking about how he's still technically married, the better.

Guys Who Cook

2010-02-10T15:03:00.004-07:00

Tomorrow night Mr. Curls is coming over to my place to cook dinner for me. I told him I was excited to experience his culinary skills, and he immediately countered with, "Don't say 'culinary,' it's too high stakes. You're going to be expecting fancy cuisine and how can I live up to that?"

"Okay, how about grub?"

"Ah, much better."

He asked me some questions about my kitchen gear and what kinds of foods I like and said he'd need a day to ponder what to cook. I'm way excited about having him cook for me. The food itself could be interesting, but more than that it's the gesture of it. Buying dinner is one thing, but cooking dinner takes more effort and is riskier. I think it's totally charming.

When my ex and I were together, we'd cook for each other. He makes his own hamburgers and fusses over the seasoning to make sure they're just right. Watching him prepare food for me was always lovely. It's all about the effort. It's like City Girl's post today about how she likes to take care of her guy.

The thing is, in our society, most people consider their time to be at least a little more important than their money. A guy who's willing to cook for me is a guy who gets major points in my book.

I'm covering dessert tomorrow and I decided to go for chocolate fondue. It's fun, it's chocolatey, and it'll be my first time trying to do it at home. I figured that if anyone's up for trying a culinary (I mean, grub) experiment with me, it's Mr. Curls.

F*ing Student Loans

2010-02-08T10:59:00.003-07:00

Last summer, my student loan lender told me it was time to start paying them back. In the months since, I've been dumping hundreds of dollars in their lap and making a teeny-tiny dent in the total amount due. It sucks.

The worst part is having a job that pays pennies, and a job that is neither full time nor permanent (ah, the joy of adjuncting). The cherry on top is that the job market's in the tank right now, so being an adjunct is the best I've been able to manage. I keep searching the classifieds and various job websites, but all the openings I find are openings I'm not qualified for. These past couple of weeks I've been cursing my stupidity for majoring in English instead of the vastly more marketable field of medicine, especially nursing. If I was a nurse, I'd have my pick of jobs right now.

Part of the shtick our undergrads get fed is, "Do what you love, the money will follow." Um... yeah. About that...

But, there's not much I can do right now about changing the direction my undergrad and graduate studies went. No, now I've got to make the best out of what I've got. Even if what I've got is student loan repayment and an income that hovers on the border of poverty level. Since I'm not having much luck with job hunting, I'm buckling down on my spending.

This year, I've resolved to really focus on how much I stimulate the local economy with my hard-earned moolah. I've never been a really big spender, but now I'm cutting back even more. It's a blast, lemme tell ya.

One of these days, I'm going to get me a real job, one where I'll earn enough money that buying a plane ticket to see my brother over spring break isn't an expense I can't justify.

Worst Case Scenario

2010-02-06T23:19:00.003-07:00

I spent most of the day with Mr. Curls today. The more I spend time with him, the more I want to spend more time with him.

Friday night, when I went out (sans Mr. Curls) and met up with one of my favorite couples, I told them about him and asked them, "How long after you met each other did you think 'this is the one'?"

After they answered, the guy countered with, "So, does this mean that you're thinking the guy you're seeing could be?"

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe I'm thinking it just a little."

Tonight, we ended up sitting on my couch and, among other things, we talked a little about the rough stuff he's going through. I didn't push it, because I've gone through my own rough stuff and I know it can be painful to talk about right away. I told him a short version of the story about my ex and then I told him that everybody's got a history and I wasn't going to push him about his.

"I want to," he said. "I want you to know everything about me." But, whatever it is, he couldn't quite find the words to tell me tonight.

"How long have you been so sad?" I asked him.

"A long time."

Based on what I know about him and what I can read in the things he says and does, I'm don't think the mystery baggage will turn out to be more than I can handle. The thing is, though, I don't know. In the face of an unknown like this, an unknown that has obviously left its scars on him, I can't help but think of worst case scenarios. What's behind the curtain? Is it bad enough to make me walk away?

Whatever it is, I'm really hoping it isn't one of those worst cases. Please, please let it be something I can handle. So far, this guy seems like he could be right for me. He seems like he could be so many of these things that I've dreamed I'd find. He just feels right. It's weird. Weirder yet is how I'm not freaking out about it. Everything I know tells me this could work. It's just that chunk that I don't know that might break the deal.

Now I have to wait and see.

V-day is Annoying

2010-02-03T11:17:00.004-07:00

Me: It's February.
Amanda: So?
Me: That means it's going to be Valentine's Day in a little while, and I might not be single for this one.
Amanda: So?
Me: I don't like it.
Amanda: Yeah, there's a lot of pressure.
Me: So what do I do?
Amanda: (laughing) Nothing, but he'd better have reservations made.

Stupid Valentine's Day. I didn't mind it when I was with my ex, but we didn't make a big deal, either. We'd go to dinner, or one of us would cook dinner, and we'd spend time together, but there was no elaborate thing. I liked it that way. I also liked the part where we were an established couple before our first Vday together rolled around.

With Mr. Curls, I'm pretty confident that we'll still be seeing each other in two weeks. But, it's too soon. Valentine's has all this weight behind it, and, well, I wish I could just ignore it completely. I just want to know what Mr. Curls is thinking about it, except it's still kind of early to assume that we'll still be seeing each other in two weeks. So, what's the right balance between broaching the subject early enough to defuse it while also being late enough to make sure it's going to be relevant? Hrm... Maybe this weekend would be about the right time. One week beforehand should be about right, right?

Yes, I'm a bit of a daddy's girl, but not this time

2010-02-02T11:03:00.002-07:00

The other day, my dad asked me to go to a father-daughter dance with him. To make matters worse, said dance occurs at the university where I work. Now I'm dreading telling him no, because I don't want to hurt his feelings. However, I'm going to have to tell him no, because there's no way I'm going.

While the idea of going to a dance with my dad doesn't thrill me on its own terms, the deal-breaker comes from the location. I'm one of the youngest instructors on campus and this dance will be swarming with undergrads, some of whom will potentially be my students. The last thing I need is for undergrad students to look at me as being one of them. I need whatever I can hold onto in terms of authority, and going to this event is directly counter to that. Doesn't mean I look forward to telling my dad this. I just hope he won't take it personally. Cross your fingers for me.

Guy Unlikely

2010-01-29T17:10:00.003-07:00

Just got home from a coffee date turned walking tour of downtown turned lunch date with Mr. Curls. It's surprising to me how well we mesh, how much our life philosophies, etc. are in synch, and how easily he can make me laugh. The more I get to know him, the more I like him. That hardly ever happens. It's amazing.

I don't want to get ahead of myself with this, but I'm feeling more right about him than I've felt about any guy since my ex-fiance.

Today he confessed that he really hates his curly hair. Ironic ;) Just goes to show that sometimes there are features we don't necessarily like about ourselves which other people adore about us. Remember that the next time you're getting down on yourself about something.

While I don't want to get ahead of myself, I do think it's safe to relax into the situation and just enjoy how much I enjoy seeing him.

I've got to say I'm really glad of my puppy crush on Bartender Guy, 'cause without it, I think it's highly unlikely that I'd have stumbled onto Mr. Curls, and that would have been unfortunate.

Guy-Induced Insomnia

2010-01-26T00:05:00.005-07:00

We all have our hang ups and things that make us nervous. For me, the prospect of getting in between two undergrad boys who are about to punch each other is no big deal. I can be calm in situations like that. But, give me a guy who wants to take me to dinner and I am a seething mass of anxiety.

There isn't much that keeps me up a night, but the idea of a real life guy who wants to date me gives me a nervous break down. With a guy like Army Guy, I laid awake worrying about whether or not I should be impulsive and whether or not he was going to call again. With Comic Book Guy and Radio Guy I laid awake worrying about whether or not I was interested in them, and whether or not I was being fair when I decided I didn't. Then I worried how to break it off.

Now I have Mr. Curls to worry about. He called tonight to ask me if I was free this weekend. Good, right? Tonight I went to bed and stared at the ceiling for half an hour stressing out. Talk about classic neurosis.

I like him, which is good. He likes me, which is also good. Except, he seems to really like me, which freaks me out. Thanks, insecurity, for that one. Insecurity and cynicism say to me that any guy who likes me this much this fast must have something wrong with him. The rational part of me knows that's a terrible thing to think. The rational part of me says, "Duh, having a guy you like think you're great is a good thing."

But, it's not the rational part that makes it hard to sleep.

Sushi and Vampires

2010-01-24T10:11:00.002-07:00

I went out with Mr. Curls last night and had a very good time. We had dinner at a sushi place, killed some time at the book store where a friend of mine works (she sent me a "so, what's the scoop?" e-mail as soon as she got off work), then went to the theater to watch Daybreakers. I know a gruesome vampire flick might not be everyone's idea of a date movie, but when he suggested a movie, that's the one that I really wanted to see.

Anyhow, back to the date. I picked the movie and he picked the restaurant, which was nice because the last few dates I went on were ones where the guy said, "um, what do you want to do?" so going out with someone who wasn't so afraid of choosing something I wouldn't like that he didn't choose anything at all was good. The restaurant was good, and talking with Mr. Curls was enjoyable, and as he relaxed, a very playful side of him came out and I'm a sucker for a guy who doesn't mind being a little silly every now and again.

This morning I'm all smitten and the typical smileyness that comes after a date that went well. My first impressions of this guy are good. I'm cautious still, but so far he's a lot like the kind of guy I've thought would be right for me. He's a balance of confident and considerate, smart and playful, etc. etc. He's earnest like Comic Book Guy and Radio Guy, but more adventurous like Army Guy.

I quite like this random guy I met at a bar. Go figure.

The Curly-Haired Stranger

2010-01-23T11:02:00.006-07:00

I went to my bar last night because I thought they were having a band and I thought my bartender crush would be there. Turns out I was mistaken on both counts, but as soon as I walked in I spotted a few of the regulars I used to know as well as a bartender I used to work with, so I hunkered down at the end of the bar, a young gal surrounded by old men. We had a good chat.

Later, once the men had left, I had the end of the bar pretty much to myself and I sipped a drink and did some writing in my notebook. Just as I was starting to feel disappointed that there was no band (nor my crush), a cute guy my age walked over to me. He was maybe around 5'7", slender, with glasses and curly brown hair.

Him: Do you work here?
Me: No.
Him: Oh, I just saw you writing and thought maybe you did.

Since I clearly was sitting, not wearing an apron or anything with the bar insignia, etc. I knew it was pretty obvious to anyone who was paying attention that I was not working. In the past, my reaction to his blunder would have been to blow him off, but I'm being more social these days, nicer, right? So, instead I just smiled. After all, it was pretty clear that the point of the question was not the answer itself, but to start talking to me, so what he said was less important than the fact that he said something.

Him: So what are you writing?
Me: I'm working on a short story.
Him: Really? That's cool. I've got a novel I've been trying to finish for about two years now.

That was soon followed by, "You mind if I sit down?" Then his buddy came over and he told the buddy, "I'll meet up with you there."

That's when I thought to myself that, for the first time in my life, I was actually being picked up in a bar. We sat and talked for over an hour, finding out that we actually have a lot of things in common. The night ended with an exchange of numbers and an invitation to see a movie.

All this effort with the going out in public and being social, and I actually met a guy. Even if it goes no further, I've got to say it was nice to get chatted up last night, especially since I think I could genuinely get along with him. And, did I mention the curls?

In pursuit of my crush on the bartender, I ended up with a date with another guy. That's funny.

Student Barometer

2010-01-13T21:15:00.005-07:00

Tonight was my last first day of class. It's bizarre having such a late schedule. I'm used to starting with an 8 a.m. or 9 a.m. class, but this semester my earliest class is at 3:30, and my other two are night classes that go from 5:30-8:30. All three are the same course and it's one I haven't taught before, so this is the semester of newness.

Now that I've met all three classes, I'm able to relax a bit. I've met the students, learned their names, and gotten the general class personality of each. Now I know what to expect. Now I know which students I should keep my eye on in case they become problematic.

It's exhausting, this first part. Wears me right out.

Tonight I had an older student ask me how long I've been teaching at this university. If he was braver, he would have just come right out and asked me how old I am. Yup, I think he's going to be that guy.

I was very entertained later during the break when I heard that guy's buddy ask one of the gals in class how old she thought the guy was.

Without missing a beat, she said, "Twelve."

I think I just found a new favorite student.

Job Hunting With Renewed Vigor

2010-01-09T10:12:00.004-07:00

There are few things more motivating to get a new job than returning to the old one. Thursday was the day of pre-semester meetings and a reminder of why, at the end of the day, I'm not satisfied being an adjunct. The bottom line: I get paid a laughably small amount of money, I have no benefits or job security, and the current department make up is heavy with favoritism and (big surprise) I'm not one of the favorites.

I like a lot of things about being an adjunct and I genuinely have fun teaching. Also, it's a great job to have when you're still taking classes. It's just that when I look at the cost/benefits break down of it all, relative to the potential of promotion/teaching more classes, the result is that I need a different job.

Today I'm working on my application materials for one job. There's another job that's being created through the local YWCA that I'm going to apply for once it's official - bonus: a good friend knows the guy who's setting up the new job, so I've got an in through her. Also, I'm keeping my eyes peeled & searching websites for anything else that might be promising.

The extra bonus is that my teaching schedule this semester is evening-heavy since two of my classes are night classes and the third is a 3:30-5:00 class. That leaves the bulk of my days open, which is conveniently conducive to getting started with a new job even before the semester is over.

Now I just have to go through all the hoops & inevitable rejection that a job search entails. Whoo-hoo! Thankfully, I have a lot right now to remind me of why I'm doing it.

Yeah, 'Cause There's No Way This Could Go Badly...

2010-01-06T10:15:00.004-07:00

My mom has decided she wants to be a better person. She's decided that I need to help her. My role in the mother fixer-upper project? She wants me to critique her.

Mom: Tell me what I can change about myself.
Me: ...
Mom: I can't get better if I don't know what I need to change.
Me: I'm really not comfortable with this.
Mom: Why not?
Me: Nobody likes to be criticized.
Mom: But you have to tell me.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen. I tried to get out of it gracefully, but she's not going to let it go. The only way I'm going to make my mom happy is if I make a list of personality traits she has that I don't like (let's start that list with being pushy, shall we?).

I'm all about striving to be a better person, I really am, but I'm the daughter, not the therapist. Getting involved here makes me way uncomfortable. The worst part is, I know I have to do something - something to make it clear that I love her, but I'm not getting involved in this particular project - because she is not going to let it go.

Size 6

2010-01-03T12:19:00.001-07:00

I had to buy some new jeans the other day because my size 8s are now too big. It's cool to have a tangible sign that all my work at the gym is paying off.

Boring Job Retirement

2010-01-02T12:13:00.002-07:00

On my last day of the boring job, I finally met my boss in person. She came by the store where I was working and didn't tell me she was coming, so I was totally surprised when she showed up. She was perfectly pleasant and had made the 2 hour drive for other business, but swung by to say hello and ask me how I liked the job. "It's nice to have a change of pace," I said, aiming for that fine line between honesty and too much honesty.

"Well, if we pick this area up again, I'll give you a call."

I nodded, smiled, said it was nice to meet her face-to-face, all the while thinking how strange it was that it was only when I had about three hours of my last shift left that I finally met her. Seems backwards, doesn't it?

It was an interesting experience, but one I'm far from eager to repeat. I'm pleased to have the extra cash, and now have one more entry on the list of stuff I don't want to do for a living.

The Small Town-ness Of It All

2010-01-01T11:20:00.002-07:00

I didn't feel like going out last night, but I did it anyway 'cause that's how you avoid being a hermit, right? Besides, even though I went alone, I was bound to run into somebody. In fact, I ran into a few somebodies.

There was the regular who drinks scotch and soda tall - he's the father of a girl I used to be friends with in elementary school. There was the guy in the band who's married to a gal I met as an undergrad and work with now. There was the regular who tells me politically incorrect jokes that always make me giggle. The gal who does my hair was there for her boyfriend who's in the band. My bartender crush was there, too, as the sound guy for the band. Sadly, as far as I can tell, he doesn't even know I exist.

Then, too, there was the gossip. Politically incorrect guy is a couple years younger than me, Hispanic, and has the most gorgeous cheekbones you've ever seen. He's also one of the few people I've known who I'd describe as melancholy. He's got a girlfriend now - a cougar gal who's about a decade older than him.

Later on, while I was sitting with hairdresser gal and percussionist guy, a couple walked past.
HG: That dude is drunk.
PG: Very drunk. And that gal is Bartender guy's ex.

Of course, I couldn't keep my ears from perking up. There wasn't much else said, but a little while later, the ex went over to talk to Bartender guy. It's always strange seeing the second person in a couple after you've met the first. The gal's in her late twenties, blond, pretty and heavy set. It was a nice reminder, in a culture that's so obsessed with tiny gals, to see her next to skinny Bartender guy. Yeah, they're broken up, but you have to date somebody before they can become your ex. There was something there, once, and it wasn't there because she's a twig.

I didn't get a kiss to ring in the new year, but I did get a bit of champagne, some laughs, and a few hugs. Not too shabby, I think.

Girls' Night

2009-12-28T21:15:00.003-07:00

This weekend I went on my first official girls' night. It was a night full of cliches, and rather disappointing.

One of my oldest friends (known her since middle school) was in town visiting family, and we wanted to get together. She wanted to go to the city up north to party - 'cause everything's better after a forty-five minute drive on the interstate, apparently. Since I'm working on saying "yes" to new experiences, I agreed. I picked up my friend, then we picked up her sister-in-law, who's a total sweetheart, then we went north. Once in the other town, we went to the house of my friend's sorority sister and met up with a friend of sorority girl's, a tall, lovely gal.

So, here's the breakdown:
Me, my friend, the sis-in-law, sorority girl, and tall gal. Me and my friend were the old spinsters of the group, everyone else was 22 or 21. Herein lies one of the problems. My friend has been getting her undergrad. degree for seven years. This has created a kind of prolonged adolescence as she keeps hanging out with new undergrads - she gets older, but most of her friends are 19/20 year olds. Thus, she's all about partying, thus she's been at college for seven years and still hasn't graduated. I love her to death, but seriously, it's sad. But, I digress, back to Saturday night...

Going to sorority girl's house first was the most retarded plan of the night. We all sat on her couch for an hour while she took a shower, changed her outfit three times, and fussed over her hair. Then tall gal showed up, they did shots of Patron, and we went downtown. We took the Patron with us and they did more shots in the parked car. The sis-in-law was not amused. We were both in the back seat and she looked over at me, "I thought we were going out. I can sit in a car at home."

"Yeah," I said. "I'm too old for this shit."

Finally, we made it to a bar that sorority girl & tall gal scoffed at for being too empty. The bar had a DJ and a small crowd - it was about right for me, but didn't have enough men for the girls. Granted, they still managed to find plenty to dry hump, I mean, dance with.

That's also were we met drunk guy who was a friend of friend of my friend - i.e. two degrees removed from knowing us. He was also very, very drunk. He wanted to dance with the girls. My friend wanted to dance, and she's the type who tries to be nice, so she danced with him. After he tried to dive in for a kiss, which was after the fourth time he tried to grab her ass, even she had had enough and told him to leave her alone. But, as with all cliched annoying drunk guys, he kept circling around our table, diving in from time to time to grab one of the gals. Dude came about a hair short of getting kicked in the balls by the sis-in-law and only left her alone when she showed him her wedding ring.

Eventually, we left the bar I liked and went to one so crowded that we couldn't move. The sorority girl and tall gal were much more pleased with this bar, but I've got to say that standing around, smooshed in a crowd is pretty damn boring. That was a pretty typical note for me that night, boredom. I've never been one who's all that interested in "partying," and Saturday night reminded me why.

It was good to spend time with my friend. I got some interesting people-watching in, and I liked meeting the sis-in-law. However, the sorority gal was totally inane, and her whole objective of going out with friends just so she can ignore the people she went with in favor of paying attention to people she just met is not something I really understand. (I mean intellectually, I get it, but I just don't GET it.)

Well, the new experience has been tried. Next time, I go ahead and skip the party and find a nice, mellow bar with good conversation and maybe some live music. Yup, that's much more my speed.

Send Your Good Thoughts/Prayers

2009-12-28T08:37:00.003-07:00

Since I recently got in touch with Cancer guy again, he's been at the front of my mind. Life is mysterious and full of synchronicity. Today I found something on Kendall's blog that I'm re-posting below. It looks like Brandy's guy may have multiple myeloma. I learned what multiple myeloma meant in Sept. 1999 when I found out that my friend had it. The prognosis for people with this type of bone cancer is grim. In 1999, the doctors told my friend he should start making arrangements. They measured the rest of his life in terms of weeks. Now it's over ten years later and he's still playing poker and loving life. It's been a hard road for him, but he's fighting to make the road a long one. I'm sending out my good thoughts that Brandy's guy will do the same.

Now, the re-post:

My name is brandy. And I have a blog.

And a plea.

I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds. Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog- as personal as the dude that I adore (who I actually met through my blog- single ladies, let that be a very good reason to blog, the possibility of meeting someone as wonderful as my man), but I need your help. And it involves my dude.

He’s a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He’s the kinda guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job. He’s the guy who sent flowers to me at school- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He’s a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred. He’s made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He’s listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.

The holidays have hit us hard. He’s recently been told he may have something called multiple myeloma- an incurable cancer, that gives a person an average of five years of continued life. Though this news has came as a shock, he continues to be exactly who has always been- spending his time worrying about me, rather than worrying about himself. He’s the most selfless individual I know- (he stayed late on Christmas Eve to work, so his co-workers could leave early) and a post like this would never be something that he would promote or encourage but when I’m overwhelmed and feeling helpless, the blogging community has always given me tremendous support and comfort, two things I desperately need at this time.

As I write this, the future is uncertain and we aren’t sure what’s happening. He’ll need to see an oncologist soon, to verify what’s going on in his body. My hope is that everyone who reads this think positive thoughts and if you are a person who prays, could you add him to your list? (You can refer to him as ‘brandy’s hot awesome dude’). If you don’t pray, please keep him in your heart.This cancer is only a possibility and I believe that the prayers and positive thoughts of people can make sure it never becomes a reality.

I want to give a big thank you to the blog owner who scraped their original blog plans and graciously put this up. My goal is to get as many people as possible to see and read this post. If you are reading this and want to help, copy and paste my plea into your blog or send a link through twitter, so more people can keep him in their thoughts. I would be so very grateful (even more grateful than I am to my friend who first showed me the picture of Ryan Reynolds on the cover of Entertainment Weekly. If you haven’t seen it, google it. You. Are. Welcome).

I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making- but this is life. Right now. And I’m throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you and if you know anything regarding MM- please email me (my email is on my blog). This isn’t a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It’s just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be with the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next. Maybe it is silly, but I really do believe that positive thoughts can make a huge difference. Thank you for reading this and if you haven’t already? Please tell someone you love them today.

I did.

Under a Neon Moon

2009-12-22T10:45:00.002-07:00

This pic. comes from the "cabin" at my parents' property. Going camping wasn't my idea of a good time, but I like the way this photo turned out - neon lights are fun.

The Girly Adventure

Mr. Curls Moves On

Sex + DD

Let's Talk About Sex Bab-ee!

Writing Letters to the World

The Melancholia

The Worst of the Four Letter Words

Colposcopy Results

Job Interview, Again

Long Distance

Colposcopy

First Week at the New Job

Denied

It Ain't Lemonade

The Job Whirlwind (Part 2)

The Job Whirlwind (Part 1)

She's Here!

The Job, The Job

Bullet Points

Keep on Trucking

Losing My Phone Sex Virginity

Summer With the Boys

The Big L

Mr. Curls' Dad

Photo Field Trip

What's the Point of a Relationship? More Importantly, What's the Point of This One?

The Wedding, The Ambivalence, The Problem, and Time

Culture Clash

Pina Colada Brain Freeze

Thank the Lord

What Worries Me, Part Two

What Worries Me, Part One

An Unexpected Ally

Saying It, Not Saying It, and Saying It Without Words

From the Mouth of Babes, or Another Weekend With the Boys

Doctor's Orders

Life, By Definition, Is Conflict, or I Guess I'm Perfectly Normal

The Broken Boyfriend Adventure

Brother Meets Boyfriend

Mr. Curls To the Rescue

A Conversation About a Conversation

The Freak Out, or, A Ghost From the Past

Game Night and Package Deals

Chancing Rejection, aka the Job Interview

A Four-Letter Word

Ex Drama and the Information Guidelines

Now I Have a Shopping Assistant

What's Sex? What Isn't?

And Then There Was a Vibrator

Meeting the Kids *Dum Dum Dum!*

It Came In the Mail, or the X-Rated Package

Looking at Dead People + Tacky Dining + Blizzard = The Birthday Date

Mr. Curls Is Off the Hook

Chocolate Ice Cream For Lunch, Or At Least There's an Good Part of Dying From a Cold

Boys Really Do Have Cooties

Mr. Curls Gets Nervous, But It's Okay Because He's Outnumbered

Taking It Slow, Taking the Plunge

Another Offspring Conversation

Tempting Rejection

Stress Dreams

The Envelope

Bishop Castle

Sleeping Together, In the Unconscious Sense

The Highlights Dilema

Sleep Deprivation

Amanda's Turning Point

The Day Where Mr. Curls Meets... Everybody

F*ing Arkansas

The Tipping Point

The Wedding

Mr. Sleepy

The Girlfriends' Verdict

Mom and Dad and Mr. Curls (Almost)

*Cue Dramatic Music

A Wedding

Conversations About Kids

I'm Officially Closing My Eyes and Holding On Tight

My Curly-Haired Valentine, or Mr. Curls Gets Laid

Isn't it ALWAYS Bad Timing?

The V-Day Plan

Meeting the Kids Dum Dum Dum!