Understanding Boy Barbies

I grew up in a household of all girls so the idea of Barbies is not uncommon. Neither is the idea of the male Barbie (i.e. Ken). My parents didn't have any taboos about getting Ken dolls; except that we were poor so Ken dolls were few and far between due to lack of money. Or perhaps they just used no money as an excuse not to get them for us. I know I use that excuse a lot "Mommy can I have a candy bar?" "Nope, I don't have any money" as I proceed to buy myself something lovely that I don't really need but just strongly desire like a yummy soy mocha (nothing tastes yummier than mocha made with soy) but, I digress.

So, while I understand the young girl fascination with Barbies, I don't, or haven't yet come to terms with what I call the barbie for boys. My son, L, HATES this term. Let me explain, the other day he was telling me yet another thing he wants for Christmas; I can't remember everything he's asked for but at least he hasn't asked for a planet like one of my friends children have. He prefaces his request like this "You know mom, I really don't have any toys at your house to play with. If I did, maybe I would want to spend the night here more often" - he's a clever young man and has already begun to master the art of manipulation. "is that right, L?" "yeah, I was thinking about what kind of toys we should have here at your house. The one thing I really need is ONLY $16.50. So, do you have $16.50 I can borrow to get me it?".

Notice how he knows the exact price of the toy as well as uses the term "borrow", as if he's going to pay me back? I doubt it.

"Well, why don't you tell me what it is? It's Christmas time, you know, and all mama's extra money has to be sent to Santa Clause" I told my kids a few years back that the reason santa brings some kids more presents than others (they asked) was because Santa doesn't have enough money anymore to pay for all the toys the kids want so moms and dads have to send money to santa to help pay for the cost of the toys. "If you tell me what it is I can send the $16.50 to Santa and see if he'll bring the toy to you" Have I taken all the fun, joy and excitement out of Christmas? Perhaps but my kids still believe!

L then tells me about this COOL toy that is G.I. Joe Ninja's - both the black one AND the white one in one box "You get BOTH of them mom!" He tells me all about them and I say "Oh, so they're G.I. Joe, Barbies?"

That was the wrong thing to say. His jaw dropped to the ground and looked at me in disbelief as if I was calling him a girly boy or something. "NO! Not Barbie's!" "But it's like a Barbie, right? Except G.I. Joe and with guns?" "No, not anything like a Barbie mom, it's G.I. Joe." "Yes, I understand, but it's as big as a Barbie, right?" "Yeah, I guess so" "So, it's like a Barbie, it could be like Barbie's G.I. Joe husband or something" "Mo-om. G.I. Joe, is G.I. Joe. He can't be Barbie's husband." "why not?" "Because he's G.I. Joe" "Oh, but couldn't Barbie's husband job be being G.I. Joe?"

Of course at this point I'm just winding my son up and he is too dumbfounded at the THOUGHT of G.I. Joe being a Barbie that he just doesn't see the wind up. I then told him that mommy doesn't have enough money to buy the G.I. Joe's he wants but I could buy a Ken doll, which is a boy Barbie and I could buy army clothes and a gun for the Ken doll. - Now let's be honest, it's the same thing really, right?

The girls, btw, thought that I was being completely logical about the entire conversation and saw nothing wrong with what I was saying. Of course GI Joe could be Barbie's husband and of course it's the exact same thing but to a little boy,the notion that he's playing with a doll (which he is) seems to be far too overwhelming.

On a side note to the whole conversation when I mentioned that boys used to play with G.I. Joes when I was a kid L looked at me as if I was totally stupid and said "no, mom, this is the REAL G.I. Joe I'm talking about."

I'm wondering if I have any male readers who can shed some light on the whole G.I. Joe is not a doll thing because I'm still not convinced, but I let it go because it was blowing my sons mind.

The Christmas Door

Following is T's Christmas story she wrote for a school assignment. She received an "A" on it - for my daughter who struggles to get "C"'s this is a HUGE accomplishment!

Once upon a time, there were two kids named Lucy and Kipper. They lived really close to a forest. Lucy and Kipper are twins but they don’t act like it and they don’t look like it. Lucy has blonde hair and hazel eyes. She’s 12 years old and acts like a prissy little girl. Kipper has golden eyes like his dad does but has brown hair instead of blonde. Kipper is the brave one of the twins. He’s not afraid of anything and when I say anything, I mean ANYTHING!

Lucy and Kipper were playing hide and go seek and they kept getting farther and farther into the forest. Lucy found these doors. One had a turkey on it, one had a heart on it, one had a Christmas tree, one had a pumpkin and one had a really colorful egg. She figured out that each door was about a different holiday. She looked at this tree and it represented Christmas so she went inside it to hide and that is how our story begins.

When she went through the door she fell down into this big black hole. She was really cold. She opened her eyes and there was snow everywhere and she saw a sign that said “Christmas Town”. So she went and looked around. She saw elves everywhere playing around with ducks and cats but then something pulled her out. This big huge hand pulled her out of Christmas Town because someone had followed her. It was her dad! So the dad said “What are you doing? You know better than to just run off.” Kipper was with his dad too and was in trouble too.

They all went home to have a nice cup of tea. So the next day Lucy and Kipper went back into the forest to try and find the Christmas door. They went in there and it was really dark out there. It was Christmas night so Santa came and they heard him. “Ho, ho, ho!” They got really scared so they hid behind the sign. They looked back and there was nothing there but when they turned around there was Santa, right in front of their faces. So they screamed and Santa screamed. They both ran off into someone’s house. So they hid under the bed and Santa, he went into a toilet and he got stuck there, but they were in the same house though.

So they heard a noise that went “arrrrgggghhh” like someone was stuck. They looked everywhere and there was Santa stuck in the toilet, trying to get out, and he said “Kids, don’t be afraid of me, can you help me out?” So the kids helped him out and he asked what their names were but they didn’t say because they were too shocked to see Santa in real life. They thought that it was their dad who had brought presents to them, not a real Santa.

Their dad was a widower, if you all don’t know what that is, a widower is a man whose wife died. Just like a widow but with an “er”.

So the dad went looking for them. He thought that they went into the Halloween Town. So he looked in there but he fell down because there was a big huge wind blowing at them. So he got really frightened so he didn’t know what to do. He tried to get out but he couldn’t so he just went to look around. He saw tons of creatures: Monsters, vampires, scary people, wolves, mummies. So they all caught him and they took him to this green liquid which was probably acid. So he started screaming “kids help!” So the kids heard him so Santa flew them out of the door and Santa was with them. So they looked in every door and yelled out “DAD!” So they went to the last door and it was the pumpkin door.

So they went in there and they said “DAD” and dad was like “Kids?” And so they flew down there and Santa rescued the dad. And the all went home, Santa even went home too. So the dad was really scared but then the step mom tried to find them. She looked into the Halloween town and so she went in there to find him. And she found no one except all those creatures. And she was dead forever and ever.

The End!

The Break-Up

One of the joys of being single is the almost inevitable break-up. Let's face it, when you're single, all but one relationship that you have will end in a break-up. Always, there's no getting around it. So that inevitable happened last night, and thanks to modern technology, it happened via text. Yes, I said it, by text! That's bad, I know it's bad and a sign that perhaps that was the better option.

I've been dating this guy for just a short while now so not too much heart-break there, it's more the reasoning behind the break-up that really bugs. I can handle if I'm annoying, or too controlling or too, fat, or too whatever, but this one was ever so different.

Let me preface that this individual, we'll call him Ben, had been married previously and is now a widower. Ben's wife had a son from a previous marriage. Ben spent the years of their marriage building a strong relationship with her son. The son called him dad and they were, for all intents and purposes, father and son. Upon her passing the state did not allow Ben to have custody of his son. Instead son was placed in custody with his natural father (who hadn't seen the son for the entire marriage).

So, Ben's problem with me, and the reason for the break-up was because the kids aren't MY kids. If I had three kids that were my natural kids he would have been fine. But, since they aren't mine, and their mother could come back at any time and ask to have them back (and the state would give them back to her)then he didn't want to get involved. To put it in his words "I don't know if I want to work so hard on a family I don't know will be there tomorrow. It's not fair to them or me. I just don't see this as being a good position for anyone. You're great and I miss you and I really do love you. I want to stop before I'm in love with you."

So, go figure, huh? This time my relationship woes are because I went out of my way to give a home to children in need.

Ahh, the joys of being single...did I mention I hate shoveling snow?

Realizations

It's 6:30 Monday morning and where do you find me? Outside, shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. Not really what I want to do on a Monday morning. As I'm out in the cold clearing the way for the car I came to a couple of realizations about being a single mom.

1. Don't move into a corner lot. Yes, it has a bigger yard for the kids but honestly, it just means more sidewalk to shovel and more grass to mow.

2. The perfect reason to get into a relationship with someone at this point in my life is to NOT have to shovel the sidewalks again...is that good enough reason?

3. Next time I move it'll be into an apartment. No, we won't have as much space but, damn sure does beat shoveling sidewalks at 6:30 in the morning.

4. I'm the only house in the neighborhood who has shoveled their sidewalks the last three days. Am I an idiot? Maybe I don't have to in this neighborhood.

5. I'm also the only one who doesn't have Christmas lights up. Where is my Christmas spirit? Lost in the shoveling of sidewalks.

6. Heater vents in cars make for great hair dryers when you spend the time you would have spent drying your hair shoveling your sidewalks instead.

7. Waking up with a black tongue is cause for concern until you realize you took Pepto Bismol the evening before.

8. Why am I shoveling sidewalks when I spent the day before being sick enough to have to gag down Pepto? Oh yeah, cause I'm single...good reason to find a man, right?

9. Wouldn't it be nice if we could put our gym memberships on hold during the snowy months? Because honestly, who needs to go to the gym when you have a corner lot and double wide drive to shovel?

10. If I go back to online dating do you think the headline "Looking for Man to Shovel my Sidewalks" will be a catchy title? I will then proceed to discuss how I don't necessarily need a man, I'm just tired of shoveling.

11. How much does a snowblower cost? Less than a man?

Blogging to Myself

Do you ever get the feeling you're blogging to yourself? Well, I guess its better than talking to yourself, right?

I've always said that talking to yourself is alright as long as you don't answer back. As soon as you answer back you know you've lost it.

Is it the same with blogging to yourself?

Parent of the Year Award

This blog is dedicated to all the parents out there who have had one of "those" moments with their children. You know the ones, when you're in the company of others and your child says something that makes you wish you were about 2 cm tall and you could crawl away without anyone knowing that child belongs to you.

I hope that others can share their moments with me.

I had just one such tonight. We were in the car with my sister and her fiancee' (by the way, congratulations to Miriam on her engagement!) they were driving us home from my nephews 19th birthday party.

L started telling us about a video game he was playing "It's so cool! It has these cool turds..." All ears perk up...Did he just say his video game has turds? So we asked, we had all mis-heard, the game has "turrets" haha, our mistake! Mike asked what the name of the video game was and here he says "South Park" oh dear! This is a game he's playing at dads. And Miriam says "I'm surprised it isn't turds being from South Park, you know, Mr. Hanky?"

And here is when I become mother of the year:

L - "I was watching Mr. Hanky Christmas special and there was this guy in the outhouse who was shaking his butt to get Mr. Hanky off. And there was a kid at the end who pooed Mr. Hanky out into a bush."

And there you have it. Mother of the Year! Shining moment in my life as a mother. I'm sure you've all had yours too. Please join the fun and share them with me so I don't feel oh so bad.

Best Ruling By a Judge Ever!

This language is found in a judgment recently entered against the Social Security Administration in a nationwide class action regarding its alleged failure to accommodate individuals with visual impairments in their written notices they send out. He obviously was not pleased with how SSA fought to support its position.

"SSA has spurned that opportunity and chosen to litigate on a class-wide basis. Moreover, until this litigation was underway, the agency refused to even
acknowledge that it was obligated to follow Section 504, routinely denying individual requests for accommodation. In this litigation, it has been quick to find lame excuses for noncompliance but exceedingly slow to favor accommodations. To merely order the agency to comply with Section 85.51 would lead to more lame excuses with no accommodations. Since the agency has chosen to litigate this case on a class-wide basis, this order will require relief on a class-wide basis. Consequently, the following relief is ordered:"

Next step, money that is usable by those who are blind or visually impaired.

Meth Head with a Gun

I'm totally wired with caffeine today so if this blog makes no sense then my apologies up front.

Yesterday at around 3:40 I got a phone call from Ado, my ex husband. He was just calling to tell me that he had received a call from the neighborhood watch to tell him that the ex husband of one of his neighbors was strung out on meth and running through his neighborhood shooting things. The police were trying to find him but he will be keeping the girls at his house until they get word that the man has been apprehended. OKAY!!

What? did you hear that? A man is running through the neighborhood shooting things. My kids get out of school at 3:25. It's now 3:45, where are the kids? He informs me that all the kids are home and safe. Whew. Well, that's good, right? He'll keep the kids safe and will let me know when he's bringing the girls over to my place.

A few minutes later he calls me back to inform me he had made a mistake and the two little kids weren't home yet. L & T still had not gotten home. Is this where I'm supposed to start worrying? Where are my kids? School had gotten out 20 minutes prior and Ado does not live that far away from the school. He said that Mel (the new woman) was calling the school to find out if the school had been put on lock down or anything like that because of this man. He also said that the older kids weren't answering the phone at the house. Is NOW when I'm supposed to start worrying? Nope, I'm not to worry yet. Ado says he'll take care of it and he promises me to keep me informed as he gets updates. Oh, and the man also stole the car parked across the street from Ado's house and rolled it in the little park just a few doors down from Ado. Pleasant. Where are my kids?

I wait patiently for another ten minutes. Okay, not so patiently, at this point I can't focus on anything and am pacing up and down at work waiting to hear more news. Honestly, I could have headed home but it would have taken me at least 20 minutes to drive home and would have deemed not so productive. So I wait. After ten minutes I can't stand it anymore.

I called Ado's house and A answered the phone. "Hi A, this is mom. Is everyone home now?" "Yeah, everyone except T." WHAT?!?!? L is home but not T? How can this be? But before I can ask A starts telling me everything that's going on. I interrupt her and say "Yes, I know, your dad already told me. But I'm just trying to find out who is home. So, L is home but not T?" "oh", she says "L isn't home either." Is this good or bad? I don't know. Neither are home, school was let out about 40 minutes prior and the two little ones aren't home yet. But at least they're together? I told her I would call her back. Still nothing from Ado.

I called the school and asked if they had let the kids go at the usual time. "yes ma'am, school got out at 3:25 like it always does." Well, that was no help. The school let the kids out when there's a methed out man running through the neighborhood shooting things. I hung up and my phone immediately rang again. It's Ado.

"Hi Al. School let the kids out at the usual time", Yes, I already knew this, I called the school too, "apparently the police didn't tell the school that a meth head was running through the streets shooting. Not much the school can do now that they released the kids. A lot of other parents have called about this as well." Isn't this a pleasant situation? Kids walking the streets with a meth head who is shooting things (yes, with a gun). "Al, don't worry yet, there's no need for you to come out here, it's already dangerous enough. I'll let you know what's going on, I'm about 5 mins from home right now and I'll let you know when I know more."

So, I guess I'm not supposed to worry. Lovely.

Not much I can focus on at work at this point, except worrying. And him telling me not to worry really doesn't help much, does it? Or does it? No.

Five minutes later Ado calls again. "I just got home. The police pulled in behind me to tell me they had caught the guy and the kids walked around the corner at the same time. Everyone is safe and I'll take the girls over to your house."

Okay, I can stop worrying, right? Yes, I did. I got home and the little kids really had no idea what was going on, they were in their own little world wherein they walked a different way home because they missed seeing the little dogs at the house they used to walk by. Isn't it fun being a kid? They had seen the police cars, yes, but didn't think anything of it.

Glad my kids are safe and I have to say that I'm a huge fan of Theraflu. It's cold and flu season folks, please be kind to your colleagues and if you're sick, stay home, please?

My Day as a Stay at Home Mom

I stayed home with "T" today, because of her foot. Well, really I sent her to school and went to work but after she called me for the third time about how bad her foot was hurting I realized neither of us would get anything done at our respective locations so I went and picked her up.

Being a "stay at home mom" at least for one day, I decided to do something "momish" and make some home made cookies. But, the tricky part is I've been trying to have us eat healthy food lately and cookies aren't necessarily healthy. So I did some searching (hooray for the internet) and found this cookie recipe. http://www.101cookbooks.com/archives/peanut-butter-cookies-recipe.html

No white sugar, whole wheat flour (which I actually had in my pantry), no eggs, organic peanut butter (which I actually already had in my pantry as well).

My review; slightly dry, but I ran out of one of the ingredients and had to alter it ever so slightly to make up for the difference. My kids LOVED them! And you can't even tell they're made with whole wheat flour. I've substituted whole wheat in a few recipes with limited success, but these were very fab and if you eat them with the soy milk then I think you would never be able to tell they're dry.

I think I'm going to use that site more often now.

And, it was fun being a stay at home mom; even if it was just for one day!

Highlights and Lowlights.

An interesting weekend with the family...as weekends with families go.

I think overall we all drew a little bit closer, and of course, the food was good. :)

High Points - Spending the weekend at someone else's house so I didn't have to clean up my house. Barbecue. Winning all the arm wrestling matches (yeah, I still got it), and watching my son dance. He has rhythm...not so much the moves. Snickers birthday cake (yummy).

Midlights - being offered $500 + a husband for my PoS car. Yard sale...sorry mom, not a highlight, but not really a low light.

Lowlights - that one thing...those involved will know. T stepping on a screw, right as I knew the weekend was over and I could finally relax.

Loni's funny saying: "mom, I used to think that the blinker turned on in the car because they car knew where you were going and wanted to tell you it was time to turn. Now that I'm older I know that the blinker is because YOU need to tell the car it's time to turn now."

It's Not Fair!!!

The thing that will most drive me crazy is when my kids tell me "it's not fair". This phrase, or the tone of voice which accompany's the phrase comes up far too often and is enough to send me over the edge sometimes. But, you know, to some extent I have to remember that they're kids and it's part of the learning and growing process. Hell, even I do it from time to time, in my own self-wallowing pitying way.

But to be honest, when I hear it from adults (or people who, merely by virtue of their age are adults) it's enough to send me reeling. I'm not talking about life things, "it's not fair that my father had to pass away" types of things, those are kind of expected. But, when you hear it from people who think "it's not fair that I got pulled over for a speeding ticket." or "it's not fair that someone makes more money than me." or anything along those lines, I just think to myself, are you kidding?

Life totally sucks sometimes and it's not fair. That's the way life is. So you have three options, do something to change your circumstance (don't speed, find another job, negotiate a pay rise), change your attitude, or sit and be pissed off about the situation.

At the end of the day it's your choice how you respond. I have so many examples around me of people who choose one of the first two options that I feel pathetic when I opt for the third.

My mother was widowed with 4 daughters at the age of 44. That's not fair. That's shitty to be honest. She could have chosen to feel bad about it and go to everyone else to do things for her. But, she realized it's part of the whole spectrum of life thing, she carried on and did quite well. Yes, she is like the rest of us, and perhaps had some very rough days, weeks, months years, but overall, she rose above it and still made her life worth living.

My children have been through more in their lives than most people have by the time they reached adulthood. Their mother told them straight to their faces that she never wanted to have children, and then left them in the care of other people. Prior to that, they were living with her and my oldest, when I remind her that it's my job to be mom and not hers, says to me "it's hard to change when I basically had to be mom to my brother and sister from the time I was 4". They had more men in their lives to call "dad" than I have had underwear (ok, that may be an exaggeration, I don't wear underwear...hahahaha...I crack myself up), the home they lived in was filthy, with feces and other types of filth all over. And now look at them? They are gorgeous, thriving young people who have the world in front of them and realize they can be more than a waitress when they grow up. Sure their life is "not fair" but they wake up every morning with huge smiles on their faces ready to bring smiles to others.

So, while it may not be "fair". It's our own attitudes that make the difference on how we react to our situations.

You choose!

Success!

Something seems to have finally clicked with T and school.

After two years of trials she passed off her 2 times tables last week. We started working on the threes Monday morning. Me prepared for another two years with her threes. But, she called me Wednesday at work to inform me that she had passed off her threes!!!

She had only been working on them for TWO DAYS!!! A HUGE improvement over the two years on the 2's. Not sure what's happening but she's finally got it.

Hooray for T and her times tables!

Heading for a Meltdown

I feel like I'm just a little too young for a mid-life crisis...if I'm really having one now then that means I'm only living until I'm 70...yes, far too young to be feeling like this.

Last time I felt anywhere near a total meltdown was a couple of years before the divorce. And then I lived with that near meltdown mentality for nearly four years. I have an uncanny way of being able to put on the happy face and make believe that I'm doing well. Back then there were no kids around so I only had to put on the happy face in public. Once I came home the facade was broken down and I had nearly nightly meltdowns. Although sometimes I could go weeks without even letting my husband see the cracks in the facade.

I was talking to a good friend and colleague, whom I also made feel uncomfortable the other day when I told him he sounds like a therapist...and perhaps that's why I'm able to talk to him so well...he costs a lot less than my last therapist. Anyway, I told him that I felt like I was losing grip on reality and that I was becoming obsessively neurotic about certain things in my life. As a result I made a life choice which I'm still not sure I made the right choice but it felt good at the time...as a result of my neuroses I'm of course, seconding guessing myself about the choice...anyway, back the conversation with the friend/colleague. When I told him I was becoming neurotic he seemed shocked and said that I didn't appear to be that way at all...interesting yes? Here I am thinking that everyone can see me falling apart one piece at a time and really, no one can see it. What does that say about me?

Either I deserve an Oscar "I'd like to thank all my fans, my mom and my dad, my brothers and sisters." (or is that my testimony?) Or it says that I don't rely on my support group nearly enough. I look around me and see the most amazing, fantastic group of individuals who are all there to support me in anyway they can. And the amazing thing about all of these people is they are so varied and different and have such different views on the world, life, God, everything that I could really get everything i need from them...if I allowed it. As I'm thinking about all of this I on my drive home the Matchbox Twenty Song - Unwell Came on the radio. For those unfamiliar, here are the words and you can go here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IOPssHhyXec to hear the song (if there is a way to actually put the song on my blog can a more experienced blogger show me how?)



All day
Staring at the ceiling
Making friends with shadows on my wall
All night
Hearing voices telling me
That I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for something
Hold on
I'm feeling like I'm headed for a
Breakdown
I don't know why
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
Me
Talking to myself in public
Dodging glances on the train
I know
I know they've all been talking 'bout me
I can hear them whisper
And it makes me think there must be something wrong
With me
Out of all the hours thinking
Somehow
I've lost my mind
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
I been talking in my sleep
Pretty soon they'll come to get me
Yeah, they're taking me away
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
Hey, how I used to be
How I used to be, yeah
Well I'm just a little unwell
How I used to be
How I used to be

How I used to be? I think that is the most difficult line for me to come to terms with. I tell people that I'm an onion (yes, I stole it from Shrek) I have multiple layers to me and those layers have developed over my life. I would guess that each one of you who reads this has a vision in your head of "how I used to be" and you would each be right. I think part of my neuroses is coming to terms with all of those different sides of me, accepting them and reconciling them with one another. How will that happen? When will that happen? How long will that happen? I don't know. But I do know this for sure: I sure do like myself better when I'm not neurotic!

And perhaps the Ofuro Bath
and Japanese stone massage on Friday will help out too...here's to hoping!

My Dad

Yesterday it was 17 years; 17 years since my dad passed away due to complications of congestive heart failure, kidney failure and a myriad of other illnesses. He was only 44 years old. I was 18, and his death occurred exactly one week to the day of my moving out of the family home and going to college.

My dad wasn’t perfect. Who is, and all the memories I have of him are at least 17 years old, and most are older and fading and perhaps those are the best ones to have because they’re the ones that mean the most to me.

Two days before dad died, he was laying in the hospital and had asked that I come up to visit him. I have always disliked hospitals and the last thing I wanted, as the selfish 18 year old that I was, was to see my dad, sick frail and dying in the hospital. But we all knew that he wasn’t going to live much longer and I agreed to the visit.

That evening I went into his hospital room and he was there in his bed and the biggest smile crossed his face to see me. Like I said, I don’t like hospitals so I hadn’t been up to see him much, if at all, since he had been there. I can still see that smile on his face, my son Loni has his smile so it’s easy to picture. Dad was really sick and didn’t have much strength but he asked me to come up to the top of his bed. He slid over in the bed and I cuddled up next to him.

Dad put his arms around me and pulled me in close to him. At that time we had a little chat, the last one I ever had with him; the last words of fatherly advice that he would ever give to me. You would think, that I would remember everything from that conversation word for word. You would think that I would be able to recall all the things he said to me, but it was an incredibly emotional time and I don’t remember it.

I do, however, remember bits and pieces of the conversation.

Dad told me that he wasn’t going to live much longer. He knew that he had less than 3 days to be here on the earth and that he needed to tie up all his loose ends. This statement, of course, brought a profundity of tears. No girl wants to hear that her dad is dying. I’m sure I told him that it wasn’t true that he would be okay and that he would get better, but I was wrong.

Dad repeated to me the things he had been telling me over and over again the last few years of his life. He told me how proud he was of me for being so successful in school and showing my two younger sisters that it is possible to finish high school and go on to college. He told me how proud he was of me for choosing to continue my education and warned me that it would be difficult but that he believed I could do it. He was proud of me for discovering and exploring and perfecting my talent in music and for not giving up on that. Then he told me the thing that has and will stick with me for the rest of my life.

My dad pulled me close to him and held me tight in his arms. He told me that I was beautiful and that I should never forget how beautiful I am. He told me to not get frustrated with men, that he knew I had never dated anyone but that the right man is out there for me. He also told me it would take me a long time to find that man, but he is out there waiting for someone as incredible as I am. He also told me to not settle for anyone less than what I deserve.

I was very uncomfortable and the last thing I wanted, as a selfish, 18 year old girl, was to be in a room with my dad who was dying. To an 18 year old life can go on forever and ever and I didn’t want that elusion to be taken away. So after a few more minutes of tears I left my dad…

Two days later I was fast asleep in my bed when my mom came into my room to tell me that she was going back to the hospital because dad had passed away…those few minutes in his room was the last I saw my dad alive.

So, on this day late anniversary, I thank my dad for instilling in me the hunger for education, to be all that I can be and to see my full potential as a musician, student and woman.

I love you dad!

The Obama Ocho

The following is from the City Weekly, September 10, 2009 by Bill Frost

The Obama Ocho

Eight signs your child was brainwashed by Barack Obama’s school speech on Tuesday:

8. Instead of asking “Where’s his birth certificate?” he asks, “Where’s your high school diploma?”

7. She’s full of impossible ideas like a “career” and having fewer than eight babies.

6. He’s exhibiting Socialist tendencies, like sharing and playing with toy fire trucks.

5. She dares to ask over dinner, “What if Obama’s not the Antichrist? Can we turn the basement bunker into a play room?”

4. Instead of wanting to go to soccer practice Saturday morning, he asks “So, where’s the local farmers’ market?”

3. She switches the car radio from Radio Disney to NPR or, worse, jazz.

2. He’s demanding universal health care for his new ferret, which he’s named “Snarl Marx.”

1. She quotes Keith Olbermann and Rachael Maddow more than Jesus and Sean Hannity

Sam I Am

Facebook quizzes: the things we all hate to love. What better way to waste some time than to answer silly questions filled with poor grammar, bad spelling and pure idiocy? I took one a few weeks ago in which it asked what my favorite food was. Among the choices were Ramen, pasta or Flamen Yawn. I've had a Flamen Yawn before, let me tell you, watch out if you're any where near me when I have one of those!

I took one recently where purpose was to determine which Dr. Seuss character I am most like. Oh, there are so many good ones to choose from: Yertle the Turtle, perhaps, the one who forces everyone to do exactly as he pleases. Or perhaps the Cat in the Hat - fun, adventurous, spontaneous, always up for doing something exciting. Maybe even the Grinch - a cold, icy exterior who just needs a little lovin' to loosen up. But NOOOO...who do I pull? I pull none other than Sam I Am.

Green Eggs and Ham, was, admittedly one of my favorite Seuss books as a child, but when you start describing the character of Sam I Am, he is less than flattering; The little, annoying friend who wants you to try something and just won't drop it. He keeps pushing it and pushing it until he literally, pushes you over the edge and into the ocean.

Fabulous! This is just the type of person I want to be. Especially as a single woman, just the type of female a man wants to be around. Interpret this into relationshipese: Nagging, nagging, and nagging. Hooray! I always claimed to not be a nag and here is this infallible facebook quiz telling me I am just that!

So I tried to put a positive spin on it, if that's possible. Sam I Am is the little guy who knows that what he has is fabulous and doesn't want his good friend to miss out on the fabulousness (is that a word?) of green eggs and ham. Perhaps THAT is me. Perhaps, when it comes to dating, I know that I'm an amazingly, brilliant catch and I don't want the particular man I'm dating at the time to miss out on all of MY fabulousness. So I'm persistent, I'm a go getter. I know what it is that I want and I go out and get it. HA! If only that were true.

In fact, the exact opposite is true when it comes to relationships. I typically let the man steer it all. Whatever he wants, however he wants it to be I comply with his wishes. I may despise it the entire time, but I still comply. I can't even begin to list all of the many, many, many times I've done things for a man or the sake of a relationship which I knew I didn't want to do but did anyway. Why is it that I'm so compliant when it comes to men and relationships?

During the last days prior to the divorce these became more and more current happenings; it was an effort to save my marriage. I saw it slipping further and further away from healthy and knew not what else to do so I complied with many things which I shouldn't have. Looking back now, I know that it was because although the relationship wasn't at all healthy, it was at least a relationship and the unknown out there could be oh, so much worse. "At least," I would rationalize, "he isn't hitting me and that he is, really a good man. So what if he doesn't love me, the next man may hit me or my kids or do even worse." Yes, I did tell myself those things over and over again. Silly girl, I know.

After that relationship ended, I vowed "never again". I would never again compromise myself or my values. Yes, I know I have to make compromises in a relationship but that is far, far different from compromising one’s self. And yet, I continue to make similar mistakes.

Even when I know the guy isn't interested in me I continue to spend time and energy pursuing him. I have never, once, to this day ended a relationship on my terms. I've known they were ending, but never actually done the ending myself. I've always left it up to him to do. Because what if I'm wrong? What if I'm reading his signals wrong? What if he really is just really busy right now and once he isn't so busy he'll make time for me? What if, what if, what if?

I think, ultimately, and this goes back to a common theme in many of my posts, that I am really just scared of being alone. I think that a part of me is willing to put up with bad behavior, with bad manners, with lack of interest or intent because I'm afraid that if I don't that's all that I'll get, that nothing better is going to come along.

And another quick topic: What’s up with all the blackheads on my face these days? GRRR!

Sexy, Sassy, Smart and Single in Salt Lake

Welcome to my blog. First, a little about myself. I was born and raised in Salt Lake City, Utah as a part of the predominate religion in Utah, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I was the second of four girls in our family, with no brothers and I was the “good child”.

Growing up, I did everything that I thought my parents wanted me to do. I went to school, had good friends, got involved in extra-curricular activities including music, theater, peer leadership. Additionally, I attended and was heavily involved in church activities. I held several youth leadership positions in the church and went to all my meetings possible.

I was the first, and only child in my family to graduate from High School with the rest of my class and went on to attend Southern Utah University (SUU) on a full music scholarship. After three years at SUU I decided to go on a mission for the LDS church. The day after my 21st birthday I entered the Missionary Training Center and continued on to serve an 18 month mission in Germany. Following my mission I returned to SUU and completed my degree and received a Bachelors of Science in Music Education.

During all of the time mentioned above I was a strong, confident, intelligent young woman. . Additionally, from the age of 16 until the age of 24 I went on a grand total of 2 dates, both of which were to girls choice dances. No, that isn’t a typo and yes, you did read that correctly, TWO dates.

After college I was working for three companies all at the same time, two of which were temp agencies and one was a night job. At my night job I met and started dating a guy a couple of years my younger. I, having no dating experience at all, fell instantly, madly and deeply in love. I had my first kiss when I was 24 by him and also lost my virginity to him. He meant the world to me and I really loved him, all the time knowing that he was already married.

That relationship lasted about as long as such a relationship can last with me heart broken when he moved back in with his wife.

Shortly after the end of that relationship I met and fell in love with another man over the internet, a Welshman. I moved to the UK, he was baptized and we were married a few months later. We were later sealed for “time and all eternity” in the LDS temple in London. During our time in the UK I was diagnosed with depression and even had a suicide attempt. I was not happy, we both assumed it was because I was away from my family so, after two and a half years in the UK we moved back to the US.

Life in the US started looking very good for the two of us. We both were able to secure very good jobs and were happy with our careers. We were unable to conceive a child and went through a couple of rounds of fertility treatments, also with no success. But we still seemed, appeared, and I even thought, we were happy.

One day, unexpectedly, we were suddenly the parents of three children, two girls and a boy, then ages 9, 5 and 4. We bought a new car and a new home to accommodate the children and we still seemed, appeared, and I even thought we were happy.

But, we weren’t. My husband had fallen in love with another woman. And informed me that he had actually, never really loved me. We went our separate ways in October of 2007 and our divorce was finalized in October 2008.

Shortly after our separation I met and fell in love with another man. Yes, I know, I fall in love too easily. Sorry, I can’t help it. This man, once described me as being “sexy, sassy and smart”. I, of course, loved this description of me, and have now adopted it for myself. This relationship, too ended.

So, here I am, for the first time in my life, realizing my single-hood. And here is my blog exploring all things that are Alison.

All posts dated prior to this one have been imported from various other places and sites.

The Exception or the Rule?

The last few years has been flooded with first the book and then the movie, “He’s Just Not That Into You” (the book). The purpose: To help women understand the male psyche, especially women who are in the dating arena. You see, according to the if a man is “into you” he will go out of his way to make contact with you. He won’t wait for your call or text he’ll do all these amazing things that we all really want a man to do. He’ll take the initiative and pursue the relationship. Further, according to the book, this initiative will happen when and how you, as a woman, want/expect it to happen.

The book further explains that most women are “the rule”. Meaning, if a guy doesn’t call/text you back when you call/text him, that means he’s not into you. Sometimes, it means he’s busy, but typically, not the case, that’s the exception, not the rule. So now women all over the place are asking themselves, “am I the rule or the exception”? Women are striving to be the exception, they want to be the exception (and yes, I’m included in this). And yes, of course, I have a couple of issues with this.

First, why are we so comfortable accepting the book as truth? As women, we are given labels all the time, and most women I know, and with whom I associate, despise being labeled and categorized with all other women. And yet, we, and I see it every day, are so easy to label and categorize men. We’re somehow comfortable with making statements like “men never learn”, “men just don’t understand”, “all men just want sex, that’s it”, etc. I see and hear these types of statements nearly every day. When the tables are turned women hate it! “women are bad drivers”, “women don’t like sex”, “women aren’t as intelligent as men”, etc.

Why is it that we’re okay reading the book and feeling like we’ve just been handed the holy grail of understanding relationships. The book puts all men into the same category and says that all men will act and react identically. I’m not comfortable with this. I’ve never been comfortable with labeling and categorizing people.

Secondly, why is it that, because of the book, women feel the need to sit around and wait to be the exception? Most women I know are exceptional and, in their own right, the exception to many things. Why is it that we have to sit around and hope that some random man will meet us and think, “wow!” and that we have to sit around hoping that someone will find her exceptional? I think that’s a poor statement on dating women. Why is it that I can’t be the one to look for the exceptional man? Why do I have to settle for the person who finds me exceptional, even if it’s not someone I’m interested in, instead of going out and pursuing a man who is amazing?

We’ve all seen the fairy tales, we’ve all hoped for the fairy tales and I’m not going to deny that I haven’t as well. That you meet someone and you lock eyes and you feel “the spark” and the music starts playing and you just know…Yes, I know it’s BS and I know it doesn’t happen that way, but it doesn’t stop us all from wishing it would, right?

I guess my point is this, why is it that I, as a beautiful, confident (most of the time), secure, intelligent, amazing woman, can’t pursue the man that I want? Why do I have to sit and wait and hope to be the exception? Why, if a man doesn’t return my call instantaneously, should I just say “oh, well, I guess he’s just not that into me”? Why can’t I put in a little effort and show him that I’m interested in him and that he’s really getting an amazing deal if he decides he wants to pursue things further?

Furthermore, while I’m on this topic, why can’t I be the one to say “I’m just not that interested in you”. I say that far too often we, as women, find ourselves, knowing the fairy tale doesn’t exist but expecting it to anyway, without any effort on our part. And why should I just assume that he’s not interested in me if he doesn’t do things in the time frame and the way that I think he should?

What is wrong with me expecting that if a man isn’t that interested in me to actually SAY it? I’ve been in many “relationships” where the man “wasn’t that into me” and yet we continued to “date” regularly and talk and get along just fine. At least I was under the impression we were dating, but since he wasn’t into me, I guess we weren’t. So, according to the book, he was giving all the signs of interest and yet he wasn’t. What about those men, huh? And it took me saying “so, are you into me” or something along those lines. I hate asking that, I hate waiting for the response and I hate knowing that if I don’t ask, nothing is going to be said and we’ll just continue along on the same path, me falling more and more for a guy who is just “going with the flow”, but his flow and my flow are simply running parallel to one another, never crossing and never merging.

I say that women need to look for the man who is the exception and men need to just communicate what’s going on inside those minds of theirs. They don’t want to be mind readers for us, so don’t expect us to read your mind and know if you’re interested or not, just say it. Or maybe I should get over my issues of being the one to ask and just say it myself.

“I’m interested in pursuing something further. Are you?”

Take Time to Enjoy the Scenery

The kids and I went on a lovely hike up Millcreek Canyon today. We hiked up to Dog Lake and had a great time! This is a hike I had never done before but several people had said they’d done it recently so I thought we might give it a try.

When we got up to the trailhead we find that there are two trails that both lead up to Dog Lake. We take the one on the west side of the parking lot and start heading up. The trail was lovely and green the entire way and only had a gradual slope the whole way up, this allowed the kids to take their time…perhaps they took too much…

On the way up the kids talked about how they wish right now they had a hover car because they had never walked to much in their lives. They grumbled, they complained, they sang, they told stories, smiled, laughed, argued, cried; the works. We really had no idea how far the lake was but everyone had said it was about 1.5 miles up. This number, turned out to be not the case. We chose the longer, easier trail, 3.2 miles from the bottom to the top. Another 3.2 miles back down, not to mention the .5 plus miles from the car to the trial head.

My kids, needless to say, were exhausted. I don’t think they’ve ever walked that far in their entire lives – cumulative. For me, it was really a breeze. My biggest trouble with the hike was how sloooooow the kids took it. I felt like I was never quite able to get a momentum going, but I was able to take time and take some lovely pics of the surroundings and really enjoy just being.

At the top of the trail we took some time and just sat and chatted for a bit while watching all the many, many dogs playing in the water. The kids were sooo proud of themselves for making it! They kept saying how awesome they were and that they can now do anything. I love my kids!

Well, time came to head back down and we followed the trail, or so we thought. At one point Stasia and I looked at one another and said “This trail doesn’t look familiar at all.” But we decided that we would keep on going, I mean, hey, it’s a trail and it’s heading down, so it can’t be too bad, can it? Well this was a MUCH different trail. The terrain was much steeper, less shade and many more rocks…I think we each took our turn to slip and fall at least once. But, the other difference was that this must have been the trail everyone had talked about because it was only about 1.8 miles.

The kids said over and over that they were glad that we hadn’t taken this trail up, that they would have given up if they had, but were glad to be taking it down. Now, as I often do, I started to think about the trails and how they relate to my life.

Most of my life has been like the second trail. I’ve been presented with steep, rocky terrain and many obstacles. And I was always taught to just go “full steam ahead”. Life is full of bumps and bruises and it’s our responsibility to pick ourselves up and keep blazing ahead. Sure, I’ve learned a lot from taking this trail but I wonder if there hadn’t been another trail that I overlooked somewhere along the way that would have brought me to the same destination.

Part of the reason, I believe that the path I’ve been on has been strewn with rocks and obstacles is my need to be in control of every situation. I have to know what’s going on when, where, why, how, etc and if things don’t go the way that I planned then I would fight against what was there in order to mold it to what I thought I wanted. It’s that molding of life to my idea of what life should be that has caused all the obstacles.

Then, a few years back, life began to change and I realized that I couldn’t control it all. There were things out of my control, people who needed to make their own decisions and there I was lost. My life, as I had seen it and planned it, was upside down and inside out and there was nothing I could do to put it back into the mold I had created for it.

It was then that I realized that, perhaps, there was a different path for me to be on, a path that was, perhaps longer than the one I was on, but one whereon I could enjoy life. Where the slope was gradual, the lessons still there to be learnt but one on which I could be happy, where I could see and experience the beauty that is life. Life, which I had overlooked for so many years while I tried to shape it and mold it into what I thought it should be instead of enjoying it and letting it just happen.

While the divorce was devastating and heart breaking, the lessons learned over the last two years have been incredible and, I have been truly much more at peace and much more happy with myself and my life. Yes, I still sometimes lose sight of life and the joy that is around me. Yes, I, at times, fall into my old habits of forcing people and experiences into what I expect them to be rather than what is natural, but ultimately, what I have learned is to take time and enjoy the beauty around me that is my life.

Right of Way

This evening on the drive home from work I encountered a very unusual circumstance. I was on I-215 and cruising along at about 65 mph, windows down, radio turned up when suddenly from my peripheral vision I see a pigeon from the left flying toward my car. Birds always get out of the way, now, don’t they so I wasn’t too concerned until suddenly the collision occurred. In through my window flew the bird, wings flapping and panicking. I, of course, panicked as well, wouldn’t you? I ducked my head, closed my eyes and next thing I knew the bird had flown out the passenger window. As I looked in my rear view mirror I saw the bird begin to falter, and I think it had injured its wing. The whole ordeal only lasted a few seconds but it certainly left me a bit shaky.

I know what many of you are thinking…”What? You closed your eyes and ducked while driving 65 mph on the freeway?” Yes, I know, not entirely clever but the damn bird scared the bejeezus out of me and I bet you would have done the same thing too. But, once I had collected my wits, I asked myself if the incident could have been avoided. Should I have yielded the right of way to bird? If so, how would I have done that? Should I have slowed down? Slammed on the brakes, what would have been the result if I had done that? A much dangerous circumstance could have happened, you know Utah drivers, they love to tail gate and although I can’t guarantee it, chances were that someone was tail gating me. What would have happened to the person or people behind; something worse than what happened to the bird? So many what if’s.

And then I started thinking about life and the chance encounters we all have. And the choices we have to make in our lives, especially those wherein we have to decide whether to take the right of way or yield it to someone else.

Prior to getting married I had never had a boyfriend, not in high school, not in college, not after college (although I had fallen in love with someone unavailable…but that’s another story), hadn’t even dated the ex. We met online, in two different countries and our courtship was entirely online and over the phone. We met for two weeks in person during which time we became engaged and three months later we were married. I’ve been single now for about two years and still haven’t really dated anyone.

Sure, I’ve been on dates, many of you have been privy to my dating adventures; always first dates, never much more. Aside from that one where we became great friends and I, again, fell in love but even then we weren’t “dating” at least not in his mind.

So, I now have really no idea how to date someone. I don’t understand the natural progression of relationships, nor how to just let it be and develop. The rules of the road are so clear and understandable. We are all taught when first driving when to yield and when to take the right of way. But when it comes to dating there are no rules. There are no street signs shouting out to me “Alison, yield” or better yet, “Stop”. There are also none that say to me that I have the right of way and can just keep on going.

Dating is more like the bird incident this evening. You kind of have to see it coming from the corner of your eye and keep an eye on it with caution. Sometimes you have to duck your head and close your eyes and hope for the best and hope that everyone will come out safely and, in the end, happy. But you can never really know how it’s going to end up right at the beginning. Should you proceed with caution, in an attempt to save yourself from heartache or heart break? Or should you go full steam ahead, enjoy the ride and know that you’re having fun but risk the possible heartache?

The Pity Party Must Come to An End

I'm a fun type of girl. I enjoy a good party now and then, but the most recent party I've been to has just not been my thing. It's been a lonely, ugly, sad, sad party and I think it's time the party comes to an abrupt halt.

For those of you who are long time readers of my writings, you'll know that this year I didn't set any New Years resolutions, I merely had a mantra. Let me refresh, "A loaf of bread, a container of milk, and a stick of butter." This year I was not going to forget what it is I want out of life and was not going to settle for anything less. Unfortunately, by doing so it's left me feeling a bit lonely.

Prior to my commitment to myself to not settle, I was dating on a fairly regular basis. In fact, several times a week I was going out. But the flow slowed and slowed and then finally I stopped the flow. All I was getting were real full on loser men. These men, it seemed, were interested in one thing and one thing only, that I settle for something I didn't want. Okay, not ALL of them, but most of them did. And for at least one of them I almost convinced myself it was okay to settle. It's not, by the way.

This slowing of the flow, along with my personal decision to just turn it all off left me, not settling, but also with a whole lot of extra time on my hands. The time was brilliant, at first. I was able to really think about who I am and what I want, what makes me happy, etc. As well as put a lot of focus into my career and my kids. But what it also left me with was a more obvious view of what I don't have in my life.

Like I've said before, I really have it all in my life, well, all except one thing, and that, perhaps is why so many of my blogs talk about this one thing. With the one hole in my life becoming more and more obvious I began to feel sorry for myself. And once that happens, there is no slow spiral down for me, no, this is like a fast, free fall plummet to the depths.

As my birthday approached I began to lose site of all the amazing things and people in my life and focus solely on what I don't have, what I haven't accomplished, and so when the big 35 hit I was pretty much at my lowest. I was right in the middle of the biggest pity party I've been to in a long time and there I was all alone in it. Sure, I was surrounded by people who love me, but I didn't want to be surrounded by them. All I wanted was to go home, crawl into bed, and be left alone (course it didn't help that mother nature was also visiting). But, isn't that the way pity party's go? The whole point of them is to be alone and those you didn't push away tend to run away fast because you're pretty much the bitch queen.

It was time to take a long look in the mirror. I had, within the course of about a week, morphed into a vile, ugly, mean woman. I recognized this woman too. I recognized her all too well...this was the woman I had become while I was married. The woman I vowed I would never become again. How had I allowed myself to become this person again? And, more importantly, how to I come to terms with the fact that although I had hidden this woman over the last two years, she is still a part of me and she and I need to reconcile our differences.

I so despise this woman that, over the past little while, I pretended she didn't exist. And now, as I sit here writing this, I realize there-in lies my problem. By not admitting that she is a part of who I am I don't recognize when she comes out and let her begin to take over my world. She is the "mean mommy" she's the bitchy wife, she's the resentful cow who, instead of facing the reasons I'm mean, bitchy and resentful, just allows all the meanness, bitchiness and resentfulness permeate her my every being.

So, apologies to those I've hurt, pushed away, and alienated over the last couple of weeks. You all mean the world to me and I have no desire to lose you from my lives. In fact, it's at these times that I need you even more. I need you to hold the mirror up to my face and ask me who I'm seeing. Ask me if this is the woman I want to rule my life. When you see the forced smile, and me holding back tears, don't let me lie to you and tell you that I'm just tired. Make me admit it to you so that I can admit it to myself.

Where to now though? I need to come to terms with that ugly woman in the mirror looking back at me. I need to recognize that she is a part of me, and a part of me that I can't hide from but come face to face with and look right in the eye and say "yes, I know you need your time in the sun. I'll let you come out, but only at the right time and under my terms." I much more enjoyed the Alison I've re-discovered over the last two years, the one who can smile at the drop of the dime, the one who finds joy and humor in most things in life.

And now I'm crying. Fabulous way to start my morning, huh? And yes, these are tears of pity for myself. And as soon as I admit that they are self-pitying tears they stop. Funny that, huh? No one wants others to feel pity for them. Least of all ourselves. So, with those dried up tears, the pity party is now officially over.

Another Story in the Life of Alison --- May Not Be Suitable For all Viewing Audiences...

Some of this may be familiar to those of you who read Amy's blog the two of us had a nice rant today and she beat me to the punch on writing about it:

Saturday Night. All dressed up to go out dancing. My really good friend Amy and I head out to the club. We go for the music and to just let loose and dance. No expectations of meeting men but, of course, hoping we get noticed, but really, just there to dance. Going out and dancing is something Amy and I really enjoy doing, and do it quite regularly. Fun to get dressed up and fun to not have a care in the world when the music starts.

This particular Saturday we find a table next to three cowboys. We aren’t at a country-western club so they seem a bit out of place but they are all quite cute and we don’t mind having them at the table next to ours. In fact a couple of times we ask them to guard our table while we’re out dancing so no one takes our spot…tables are hard to come by you know.

Cowboys begin to relax a bit and start talking with us and we get all their names, although I can only remember one of them now. But that’s fine since it’s the one I can remember about whom I’m going to tell you right now. We’ll call this cowboy Brandon.

Brandon is a bit short for my taste but man, is he a cutie! And as my hand brushes against his arm I can feel that it’s ROCK solid! Hard as steel. I will now sound incredibly superficial – yummy! And then my hand brushes, accidentally of course (hehe) across his chest and once again, solid…YUMMMY (oops, I’m superficial again).

Brandon seemed like a nice guy, easy to talk to (well as easy as it can be in a club, right), was funny, and of course, as mentioned above, yummy! It is immediately obvious that he’s very much into Amy. However, he’s a nice guy so he buys us both drinks…I had already had my limit for the night so, although I accepted, I only took about one or two sips….he finished the rest off. Now, guys, women aren’t stupid. We can tell when you’re into our friends and when you aren’t into us. But, Brandon, being the ever nice guy that he is, still flirts with me as well. In fact, he suggests that Amy and I both go home with him, spend the night, and he would take us to breakfast in the morning.

NICE! The dream of most men to have two women spend the night, right? Well, having been in a marriage where the last four years of the relationship I played second fiddle to another woman, I had promised that I would NEVER again be the second choice. As I mentioned before, it was VERY obvious right away that Brandon was into Amy and not to me and although the flirting was fun, I’m not going home with a man who views me as being “second”. Plus, for those of you who knew me in the past and not now, yes, I have changed a lot from the person I once was, but not so much as to go home with a man I don’t know and just met an hour before in the club.

I thanked Brandon for the offer but turned him down saying “I’m really looking for more than that in a relationship right now.” Now Brandon was offended…”You don’t even know me, you don’t know what I want.” “You’re right, I don’t know you to make such a call, but it’s just not my style to go home with a stranger.” I did, however, continue to encourage him to work on Amy. She’s much less shy and reserved than I am and since she’s the one he was interested in, she’s the one that he would have a better chance with. I even coached him along a bit.

When Amy was called away to another table where some “boys” were interested in talking to her she went over and chatted for a while. Brandon said “see, she’s not interested in me.” I corrected him and advised that he walked over to that table, put his arm around her waist and whispered in her ear “I’m going to head to the mens room and then I’ll be ready to head out with you.” I promised him that if he had the balls to walk over to a table full of younger men and do that Amy would be well impressed. So, with a little encouragement, he did, and I was right…Amy was all over that.

After a few more dances Amy and Brandon left together and I went home. Texted Amy the next day. They had a great time, he was a super nice guy and yada yada yada…

Fastforward, if you will, to last night. I get a random text from an unknown number “what’s up” I respond…for those who don’t know, I just got a new phone and I don’t have all the numbers I used to have, so I respond just in case it’s one of the people whose number I have lost. Next text “When you gonna cum c me”. At this point I still don’t know who it is. My initial response is “never, since no one I know would spell come that way.” But, I resist and ask who it is. Reply “Brandon”.

Brandon? Cowboy Brandon? The one I met on Saturday night? The one who left the club with my wingman? The one who left the club and “yada, yada, yada’d” with one of my best friends? That Brandon? Now this is odd. He knows that we are friends. We were at the club together, we were telling him about each other…we obviously know each other very well…Surely he knows that I know that they…But then again, maybe he doesn’t get that, men are simple creatures, right?

We exchange one, maybe two more texts in which I ask if he had fun on Saturday night with Amy and his response was “it was alright”. Now let me get one thing straight here. I know Amy. I’ve known Amy for a long time. I’ve known men who have been with Amy and one thing I know for sure about Amy is that if a man is with Amy it’s NEVER just “alright” So, I think to myself, let the lying begin.

About this time I head for bed. I suspect that he is going to text me again and the last thing I want is to be just dozing off and to have my phone go off so, I turn off the sound and go to sleep. What a great night sleep I had! I found that when I sleep with an eye mask on I’m actually able to sleep sounder, but, I digress. I wake in the morning at 5ish to make my nightly trip to the bathroom and check my phone. Two missed messages. One at midnight and one at 4:30. I don’t check the messages. Just notice they are there and head back to sleep. Finally at 7 I wake up again for the day. I check again and one more missed message. 5:30.

So, I start checking them to see what they are and who they’re from. Brandon, Brandon, Brandon. All three are nearly identical in nature, all if and when I will “cum c me”. Does this guy ever sleep? So around 10:00 I ask him if he ever sleeps. His response? “I’m in bed now. U shud cum c me” the next several texts from him are similar in nature…

I know that you’re all bored at this point, and to be honest, so am I. So when he asks “do u want 2 cum c me?” I say “perhaps” and then call Amy to find out what the deal is. World to my male readers at this point…women do talk. We share stories, and experiences and don’t be fool enough to think that we won’t. Amy says that he’s been texting her all day too and it’s driving her nuts.

Okay, so this guy is now working us both. He tells her that he’s not at all interested in me, he just didn’t think she was interested in him so he was going to move on…oh dear! He tells me that she was just “alright”.

When I get off the phone with Amy, now, fully worked up and in total rant mode, there is another text from Brandon “what does that mean?” I think are you an idiot? Perhaps means maybe…look it up. But instead I say to him the best thing I have ever said to a man:

WARNING: WHAT FOLLOWS MAY BE OFFENSIVE TO SOME. DO NOT CONTINUE READING IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED

“Honestly, you already fucked my best friend. I don’t settle for second place and sloppy seconds aren’t my style. So with no more beating around the bush, I’m not interested.”

So, to my male friends out there take heed. Not all women will put up with your shit. Women will and do talk. The Dick Dial*(thanks Amy) is not cool…more annoying than the drunk dial, really. If the skinny friend turns you down, don’t move in on the fat friend. The fat girl isn’t stupid and any woman of worth, regardless of size, will not settle for being second choice.

To my women friends: Don’t settle for less. Don’t allow men to treat you like shit, even if it’s just in the early stages. Always put on your A game and expect the A game from him. If you get the C game, which is what most of us allow, then put your foot down. But, no matter what game your getting from him, YOU take the higher road, YOU put on your A game and YOU settle for nothing less than what you’re worth. Which, by the way, is everything.

Mythbusters: Men are Simple Creatures

I’ve heard it said by men all over the world: “We’re not hard to understand. We’re simple creatures really. We’re just straightforward. Take me for face value. What you see is what you get” And I think these “truths” have been said so many times by so many sources that women have begun to believe that this truly is the case. We’ve believed the lies about their simplicity, perhaps to a fault.

When a man says “I had a good time tonight and I look forward to seeing you again,” we go back in our minds and repeat to ourselves “Men are not hard to understand, they’re simple creatures really. Straightforward. Just take them for face value. What I see is what I get.” So, we believe that they really did have a good time. They really do look forward to seeing us again. And yet, we don’t. We go back to our homes and expect that he’s going to call us. And he doesn’t. So, we make, perhaps, one phone call or send one text. This is an upbeat message about looking forward to seeing him again, or having had a good time or thanking him again for a good time, something along those lines. And then nothing again.

So then we’re told, or we tell ourselves, I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. I shouldn’t have expected too much. But was it really me placing an expectation on him? Or was it me believing the myth about the simplicity of men? I didn’t ask if he had a good time. I didn’t ask if he wanted to see me again. Those bits of information for provided on a voluntary basis. So why am I the one who is frowned upon for getting my hopes up?

Men, if you are simple and straightforward creatures then why do you insist on saying things that are not straightforward. If you didn’t have a god time or don’t want to see me again then the straightforward comment is not “I had a good time and I look forward to seeing you again.” The simple, straightforward comment is “Let’s be honest, I really didn’t have a great time and I probably won’t be seeing you again. Good luck to you in the future.” THIS, my dear male friends, may be shocking for her to hear. She may be taken aback but, in the end it will save her hours of wonder. And if she’s ever so slightly psycho it will save you the many, many psycho crazy phone calls, texts, voice messages, etc. But, please keep in mind, not all of us are psycho. I will typically make one attempt at contacting the man. If I get no response I simply brush it off as him not being emotionally immature enough to say what he’s thinking. Oh well…not the type of person I want to spend a lot of time with anyway.

Now, I’ve mentioned this to many a man and the response I always get is: “I can’t say that to a girl. Then she’ll start asking a bunch of questions about why not and don’t I think she’s good enough for me and I’ll get dragged into a conversation I don’t want nor am I prepared to have.” I’ve heard this argument over and over and perhaps this is true with many girls. But not all. So I say to my women friends out there. If you want to know what a man is thinking o feeling then PLEASE don’t go psycho-bitch on you when he does! All you’re telling him is that you really don’t want to know the truth. You want to hear the right answer, not the truth.

For those of us who have children we’ve tried hard to teach our kids this lesson. Sometimes the truth hurts and the answer isn’t always yes. Deal with it. As women we need to take the same advice. If he tells you the truth and it’s not what you want to hear, deal with it.

Another level to the answer of “I can’t say that to a girl…” Well, perhaps you’re right. Perhaps you CAN’T say that to a girl. Try, however, saying it to a woman, maybe you’ll get a different reaction. In fact, try dating a woman, maybe you’ll get a different result than the one you’ve always gotten when you’ve dated girls.

I’ve been dating men between the ages of 30 and 50 and although they all SAY they want intelligent, honest women who don’t play the games, what they really want is a woman who will buy into the lie “I’m simple and straightforward. “

I know I’ve only talked about one area where this myth is inaccurate, but let’s be honest, no one has the time to keep reading my rant. Let me finish by saying:

Women: Don’t buy into the myth. Just like any stereo type, it may be the case that some men are simple and straightforward but just because he’s a man, doesn’t make it so.

Men: Either be simple and straightforward, like you claim, by telling the truth or stop claiming this to be the case.

Yesterday’s SL Tribune ran an article highlighting an affordable community that is being built in the downtown SL area. I posted this article earlier today on my page but here’s the link for those of you who missed it. http://www.sltrib.com/ci_12561289?IADID=Search-www.sltrib.com-www.sltrib.com I love the fact that someone has taken notice of the need for affordable housing in Salt Lake and are willing to take a risk and do something about it to help people. As I read the article I was impressed with the thought the developers have about those people in our society who work every day for less than $10 an hour, most with no health insurance provided by their companies (another tangent). Then I read the readers comments about the article and my blood pressure rose with anger that people are so shallow and closed minded about the reality of society.

Comments such as:

“This does sound like the Projects-type apts. are coming to SLC...sorry to see that - I suppose to be expected in growing populated cities...”

“Beware when you hear "affordable housing" folks... it only goes downhill from here on out...I'm sorry.”

“Why don't we work on the wage side! You know education etc... so that people are not making so little per year.”

So here is my rant: Affordable housing does not have to equal the projects. “The Projects” are what happens when the community looks at the people who live in affordable housing with little regard and respect. It’s about how we treat people. Are the people who work in jobs that pay $7 an hour less of a person? They make those wages because to raise them would mean raising the cost of the service they are providing you. What service are they providing you? Let’s explore.

Low-wage earners are typically in service related fields; food service, mercantile, janitorial, etc. Even if we educated the people who are currently working in these jobs so they could get other jobs these jobs STILL have to be done and someone else will come in and do them. So why not raise the pay for these individuals? Why don’t we force the employers to pay livable wages? These appear to be a very sound argument. Now I’m terrible at math and never took an economics class in my life but even I, in my very simple language can see that this argument is full of holes.

Wouldn’t it be fantastic if everyone earned a “livable wage”? What would that mean though? All those food service workers earning $7, for example, let’s pay them $12 an hour (still not livable but you get the idea). That’s an extra $5 per hour per employee. But let’s just look at one employee. Give her a raise of $5 per hour and multiply that by 8 hours for the day. That’s an extra $40 a day the employer has to come up with in profits, just for one person. Let’s say it’s a small business that employees say, 10 employees. Now the employer has to come up with an extra $400 a day. Where do you think that money comes from? It comes from YOU the customer by means of increasing what YOU pay for. Arguments are that you as a tax payer don’t want to pay for the housing? Well, either way you will pay, either as a tax payer or as a consumer. There is no way around it.

Why do we view poverty or people in poverty as a plague? Why are we so scared of those who live in poverty? Is it because we know that we could all be there one day? That each of us has the potential of losing it all somehow and being there and that fear drives us to look down on the issue as something that is “their fault” rather than an issue of our society as a whole? Having grown up in a family where, pretty much every year, our household income for our family size would have been considered impoverished. We had very little “extras” growing up and I know that more often than not my parents had to make critical choices about what would get paid and what wouldn’t. With attitudes that I read from readers today I’m surprised that I turned out as well as I did, according to their logic my family was poor because of uneducated, unmotivated parents and my sisters and I, should, logically, now be burdens on society and/or incarcerated.

Just recently, I was talking with a potential grantor and he brought up a low-income housing project and the issues surrounding that project now that it has been bought out and is no longer “low-income”. I stated that I had actually lived in those “projects” when I was in my early teens, that my family, in fact was the first family to move into those “projects”. He seemed shocked that someone like me had grown up in poverty and, at the end of the discussion said something along the lines of “Alison, can I congratulate you on being able to rise up and become so successful, despite your past”. Because my parents were poor I am supposed to now be a failure in life?

What is the point of my rant? Well, it goes back to a common theme found in some of my other rants. People are people and we should treat them that way. Look beyond their color, their income, their religion, their abilities or disabilities. Look past if we’re fat, or thin or bald or hairy and treat everyone as human beings. When we’re able to do this we’re able to see people as we see ourselves, that we all have strengths and weaknesses, we all have our good days and bad and we all have days when we should just wear a hat.

When I stand up for myself and my beliefs, they call me a bitch.

When I stand up for those I love, they call me a bitch.

When I speak my mind, think my own thoughts or do things my own way, they call me a bitch.

Being a bitch means I won't compromise what's in my heart.

It means I live my life MY way.

It means I won't allow anyone to step on me.

When I refuse to tolerate injustice and speak against it, I am defined as a bitch...

The same thing happens when I take time for myself instead of being everyone's maid, or when I act a little selfish.

It means I have the courage and strength to allow myself to be who I truly am and won't become anyone else's idea of what they think I 'should' be.

I am outspoken, opinionated and determined.

I want what I want and there is nothing wrong with that!

And if that makes me a bitch ,so be it.

I embrace the title and am proud to bear it.

Not Just a Myth

Can it really be true? Is it possible that there is a male here, in Utah who is smart, funny, oh so sexy (uh-huh) and a complete gentleman too? Okay, so he's not from Salt Lake, doesn't even live in Salt Lake, but he does, indeed live in Utah, although 90 minutes north in Logan.

Highlights: (pay attention single men, these are good things to know)

* He's wearing clean clothes (yes, I know it's a small thing but you'd be surprised)
* Opens my car door when I get in AND out of the car.
* Takes my hand right away to walk with me down the side walk (no hesitation, complete confidence that this action is acceptable - and it is)
* When passing other people on the sidewalk I was going to get out of their way and walk on the grass - he pulls me in close, puts his arm around me and says "there's no reason for you to walk on the grass, they're not any more important than you.
* We went to dinner and I ordered my own drink - wait, wait, this is good
* We go to Keys on Main and I run to the ladies room first when I get back he's ordred me a drink AND remembered exactly what I had ordred at the restaurant. "Hope it was alright that I ordred your drink". Are you kidding? Of course and thoughtful of you to remember what I was drinking, yes?
* And just so you know, his manners were impeccable, every time I got up or sat down from the table he would stand up, shook hands with everyone, was pleasant.
* He took charge, I LIKE this. I'm so tired of making certain decisions and it was a comforting feeling to know that a man has the balls enough to be in charge...
* Before he kissed me he said "Would it be appropriate for me to kiss you right now?" Answer, "hell ya!"

So, all you single ladies in Utah, yes, they do exist. What will come of this? Perhpas nothing at all, but it's so refreshing to go out with a gentleman and to know that they really, really exist, not just a mythological character from the past. Oh and did I mention he's military and mmmm...what a nice body, that's just a bonus of course but, oh yeah.

Best Friend or Stalker? You Decide...

Last night my friend and I decided to get some dinner and go see a movie. We saw Knowing, the new Nicholas Cage flick. Just an FYI, the ending is a bit odd so, um, yeah. You decide for yourself if you like it or not. I was so into it until the end and then I just burst out laughing...it's NOT a comedy.

As soon as the movie is over Shawn pulls out his cell phone. This is unusual for him as he has some of the best cell phone manners of anyone and doesn't use the phone if he's with someone else. But, all this week he has received late night calls from work asking him to come in the next morning (at 4:00) so he assumed all the missed calls he had received during the movie were from work.

He had 3 missed calls, a voice message and a missed text message. All of them from his best friend. I will never understand male friendships, truly never. This is his best friend but he hasn't spoken with him for nearly two months. Odd...anyway, he assumes something must be wrong because the messages all say "call me as soon as you get this message".

I go into the ladies room and Shawn calls Lincoln back. When I'm done in the rest room they are still talking on the phone (although at this point I don't know that it's Lincoln who called him so many times). I hear a few snippets of their conversation. But of course it's onesided. Here are the parts I hear.
"Just getting out of a movie"
pause
"Alison"
pause
"yeah"
pause
"yeah we hang out still"
pause

That is key to the rest of the story, remember that part of the conversatiion. One can infer that Lincoln asked "who are you at the movie with?" Again, dear reader, this is fore shadowing...

Shawn finishes his conversation and we go out to the car and drive back to my house. At this point it is about 10:45 pm and it only took us about 5 minutes to get from the movie theater to my place. I pull my car in to the spot next to Shawns car and we both notice that there is a little white piece of paper tucked into the drivers window of his car. Hmmm, what could this be? How odd that someone at my apartment complex would leave a piece of paper on his car window. I've lived there a year and that has never happened to me so I was pretty curious.

Shawn gets out of the car and pulls out the piece of paper and reads it. "It's from Lincoln" "What?" "It's from Lincoln" "Lincoln came here?" and the conversation continues: It's Lincolns business card. On it he's written "Call me bitch. Ya Fuck Nut!"

Now, I ask you to again refer back to the previous conversation that Shawn had with Lincoln not five minutes before. Lincoln asked Shawn who he was with.

Lincoln knew damn well that Shawn was with me. How did he know? Because he had been at my house trying to find Shawn!!!

I started laughing and said "Shawn, it looks like you have a stalker. Lincoln drove all the way to my house (He lives about 30th East and 90th South...far, far away from where I live) just to find you!!"

So, now I ask you, is Lincoln Shawns best friend? Or is he Shawns stalker? Either way, kind of creepy that he's driving all over the Salt Lake Valley just to find his friend.

Oh, and did I mention that I asked Shawn what was so important that Lincoln get a hold of him. Shawns answer: "I don't know, he just said 'oh, hey man, what you up to?' and that's all".

Like I said before, I just don't get men and their "friendships"

First Quarter Report

It’s the end of the first quarter of 2009 (not to be confused with the end of the second quarter of FY09). Personal mantra this year: “A loaf of bread, a container of milk and a stick of butter”. For those of you who read my original posting about this, you’ll recall that this was my mantra to help me remember what it is that I want and to not settle for anything less.

How am I doing at the end of the first quarter? Let me first start by saying that I have an amazing life! Really, I do. I have a job that I love, doing work that I love doing with a boss and co-workers whom I adore and who adore me in return. Mutual adoration is always nice.

I have three of the most amazing kids in the world. The amount of love that they show me every day is incredible and it’s hard to imagine that such little beings are able to have and show such a great amount of love. The progress they’ve made in the nearly three years they’ve been with Adrian and I is astounding and their resiliency is always impressive to me and those who see them. Not to mention that they are truly the most beautiful kids I’ve seen.

I have incredible, supportive friends, I tend to keep my circle of friends small, I always have but those in my circle I know I can count on whenever I need them. When I’m feeling particularly bitchy they’ll even go with me to warmer climes to escape everything for a day or two.

And of course, I can’t overlook my family. My mother is really an amazing woman who has seen her fair share of ups and downs in her life and she still will do whatever she can to support me and any of my four sisters. Yes, I do have four sisters. Granted, I am the most attractive of the four (haha) but they tolerate me none the less.

There is only one real gaping hole in my life and that is companionship. Prior to marrying Ado in 2000 I really did believe that I would be single the rest of my life. This is something that I just felt deep down, I couldn’t explain it, I just felt this way. As a girl I never got anything out of the conversations about planning your wedding, what the colors are going to be, etc. All of that seemed trivial to me. So, when I met and fell in love with Ado, believe you me, I was as shocked as the rest of you. Well, now, Ado is no longer a companion in my life. Sure, he still remains part of my life because of our kids, but he isn’t a companion.

My mantra for the year really did revolve around the whole relationship/companionship thing. If I do end up finding a companion for life, this time I want to do all that I can to ensure that it’s for real. One of my weaknesses (others have told me it’s a strength, I guess that’s all debatable) is that I fall in love very easily. My heart is capable of falling long before my head does and even then, it doesn’t take that long. Because of this I have to be on guard. A broken heart can heal but it does take time and while it’s in the healing process, it sure does hurt a hell of a lot. Because of this and because of the number of times my heart has been broken to one extent or another, I’ve begun to be cautious. Overly cautious, perhaps…but cautious, none-the-less.

My most recent heart break was right at the beginning of this year when one of my dearest and closest friends sent me an email explaining why it was we could no longer be friends. This, dear readers, was a severe set back for me. When a lover breaks your heart that is one thing, when a friend breaks your heart, that is something entirely different. For several weeks after this event I wanted nothing more than to have a man fall in love with me simply for the purpose that I could break his heart like mine had been broken. I know, pitiful and truly bitchy of me.

It was at this time that I recalled my mantra “A loaf of bread, a container of milk, and a stick of butter.” What is it that I want? Did I really, really want to get into a relationship based on a façade and under false pretense? Was it really within me to intentionally break the heart of another. No, that isn’t my style. That’s not who I am. However, during this time I went on several first dates. None of them went anywhere. Perhaps they were all reading the vibe I was sending out “I want to break your heart”. Really, not a very good vibe to send out to men.

Because of the never-ending line of first dates, and the ever elusive second date I opted, to take a break from dating. I was in a rut; the only men I was meeting were men online, and I was lowering my standards with everyone of them. My mantra for the year reminds me that I don’t want to be stuck in a rut and to not settle for anything less. Yes, I have joked around that all I’m really asking for in a man is that he wear a clean shirt but, I promise, I do have higher standards than that.

Oh, and I can’t overlook the other “relationship” that was going on during all this. I did meet a very nice, attractive, funny, fun to be around man on CraigsList just before Christmas. Sometime in February it was very clear to me that he really wasn’t interested in my for any type of relationship, however, we continued to “hang out” and act like we were in a relationship, except that we weren’t. Can we say Déjà vu ala 2008? I was not about to repeat 2008, that was a dreadfully painful experience the first time around, why repeat it. In fact, living through 2008 was the primary reason for my mantra. So, despite the fact that this man was funny, nice, attractive, etc, I had to distance myself. We had a chat one afternoon where I bluntly asked (and trust me, I can be blunt, perhaps to a fault) if he was in to me in any way besides friendship. And of course, my gut was right, he really wasn’t. I had to put some distance in that and we still remain very good friends and have a better understanding of what each other needs.

First quarter 2009 my mantra has served me well. It’s kept me out of painful situations and kept me thinking clearly about love. Does that mean the one and only hole in my life has been filled? I know, enquiring minds want to know…

That answer is, obviously, no. I still am missing a level of companionship in my life. A person whom I can call after work and debrief with. Someone with whom I can snuggle, cry, laugh and be myself. The person I can curl up next to in bed, even after a fight and when I put my cold feet on his warm ones, I know that everything will be alright and that he loves me despite my faults. But you know what, even though the tears are falling right now, I know that regardless of what happens in this arena, I’m going to be alright in life. It doesn’t mean I won’t miss it or be sad or feel lonely, but it does mean that I have a full life that will help me to fill the missing void until (or if) this missing piece if filled in by the correct piece.

Only in Utah!

Okay, so as most of you know, I decided a while ago to give up with the whole dating charade for a bit. It’s all so frustrating. So I’ve been going along rather nicely not worrying about it…sort of. And then tonight, I get another chapter in being single in Utah. This one is truly a totally weird experience.

It was my night with the kids tonight and I decided to take them to Mc Donalds. Cheap food and the kids can play for a while. So, I’m sitting there, minding my own business when this big family: mom, dad and five kids come in and sit down next to us, the dad sitting in the spot closest to me.

He starts chatting with me, something easy at first; “It’s easier than cooking, huh?” I respond, not sure what I said, and he just keeps talking…for about an hour. He told me all about how he and his wife had adopted 4 kids 5 years ago, and I mentioned that I understand. He asked me what I do for a living, asked me if I was single…etc.

Some time in there he extends his hand and introduces himself and his wife as well. I introduce myself. Then he says “maybe we can exchange numbers and hook up sometime”

WHAT? Did this guy just ask me for my number? Are you kidding me? I kind of laugh and say, sure.

Conversation continues for a while. Don’t remember what we were talking about but I was trying to fade out of the conversation by talking more with my kids, playing around with them, etc.

He and his family get up and leave and I’m pretty sure I’m safe when he comes back and says, “so, did you want to exchange numbers? You know, we can get together sometime.” He gives me a cad with his number on it and I told him I didn’t have my card or anything to write on or with. So, he runs out after his wife and asks her for a paper and pen and comes back. My kids start shouting out my phone number so I can’t give him a fake one and then that’s it.

Only in Utah can a woman be asked for her phone number by a married man in the presence of his wife…