In what I've come to know as life. Today, my fiance and I got some unsettling news about his health. He's been going through all sorts of tests for the last few weeks, but still no real diagnosis.
His doctor has decided to send him to a neurologist and a cardiologist, because the doc still isn't sure what's wrong. The cardiologist, because my fiance is still having chest pains, numbness and tingling in his left arm, and headaches behind his left eye. A stroke has pretty much been ruled out at this point. He has to go to a neurologist because of the same symptoms. Sound weird? Yeah, it did to me too! Until the doc said that his problems are symptoms of Multiple Sclerosis...
I took that one pretty hard, but I'm still wondering why. I love my fiance, but I haven't been IN LOVE with him for a long time. I've physically left him and ended our relationship once already, but I've also done that in my mind a thousand times since I came back. We rarely fight (and it's very loud when we do), and he's pretty good with my son (most of the time). He still subscribes to the "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free" theory, and I know we'll probably never get married...
So why do I hang on? I think it's more of a sense of duty. If I left him, and something happened to him after that (stroke, MS, heart attack, etc...), I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I would feel personally responsible and guilty. Not to mention my son thinks the world of my fiance. So will I stay with him and help him in his time of need? Yeah. Like I said earlier, I do love him. But sometimes, these song lyrics from Bonnie Raitt run through my head:
Baby, sometimes love just ain't enough
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Football Season...Again
"Football widow" again this year *sigh*, so that means I have time to blog! I feel a little differently about being a high-school football widow this year...
My fiance is stressed. I mean, really stressed. So stressed, in fact, that he's having mini-strokes in his brain because his blood pressure is waaaaaaay too high. It's high enough to require him to be on medication to lower his blood pressure, and go through a stress test on a treadmill - at age 32!
He got fired from his job about a year and a half ago, and he's been stressing ever since. Money isn't growing on trees around here, and that's one thing that he's really touchy about. He wouldn't ask me to help with household bills, even though my son, the fiance, and I live together. He got mad at me when I opened mail such as the phone bill, electric bill, etc. I know he wants to take care of my son and I, but he's going about it the wrong way!
I felt almost useless at first, then I got mad about the situation. To me, he was acting like a Sugar Daddy (not the yummy candy!) - he would pay the bills, and I was here for whatever entertainment he desired. I HATED feeling that way! He didn't talk about getting married anymore, and I just felt like I was a toy or a trophy. I don't look like a trophy, so I didn't like being treated that way!
Things are slowly working themselves out. He's now asking for help with household bills, and I feel more like a valued member of society and less like a damn freeloader. But is all of this too late? The situation has greatly affected his health - he can't mow the lawn, walk the dog, or do too much around the house anymore. Doing dishes and laundry wears him out to the point of exhaustion, and he has to lay down. I really don't mind doing things around the house. I would quit my job and be a stay at home mom/girlfriend/fiancee/wife/whatever if I could.
I really don't like the fact that I have to stay at home most of the time and not go out with my friends, because I can't trust him alone with my son. My son knows what to do if my fiance has another stroke, but I don't want my son to be scared like that. So, I guess I'll just stay at home and blog. :-P
So why don't I mind being a football widow this year as opposed to last year? This is a chance for my ill fiance to hang out with his best friend and RELAX...one thing he really needs to do. I didn't think I was that bad of a person to stress somebody out to the point of having a stroke, but I guess I am.
My fiance is stressed. I mean, really stressed. So stressed, in fact, that he's having mini-strokes in his brain because his blood pressure is waaaaaaay too high. It's high enough to require him to be on medication to lower his blood pressure, and go through a stress test on a treadmill - at age 32!
He got fired from his job about a year and a half ago, and he's been stressing ever since. Money isn't growing on trees around here, and that's one thing that he's really touchy about. He wouldn't ask me to help with household bills, even though my son, the fiance, and I live together. He got mad at me when I opened mail such as the phone bill, electric bill, etc. I know he wants to take care of my son and I, but he's going about it the wrong way!
I felt almost useless at first, then I got mad about the situation. To me, he was acting like a Sugar Daddy (not the yummy candy!) - he would pay the bills, and I was here for whatever entertainment he desired. I HATED feeling that way! He didn't talk about getting married anymore, and I just felt like I was a toy or a trophy. I don't look like a trophy, so I didn't like being treated that way!
Things are slowly working themselves out. He's now asking for help with household bills, and I feel more like a valued member of society and less like a damn freeloader. But is all of this too late? The situation has greatly affected his health - he can't mow the lawn, walk the dog, or do too much around the house anymore. Doing dishes and laundry wears him out to the point of exhaustion, and he has to lay down. I really don't mind doing things around the house. I would quit my job and be a stay at home mom/girlfriend/fiancee/wife/whatever if I could.
I really don't like the fact that I have to stay at home most of the time and not go out with my friends, because I can't trust him alone with my son. My son knows what to do if my fiance has another stroke, but I don't want my son to be scared like that. So, I guess I'll just stay at home and blog. :-P
So why don't I mind being a football widow this year as opposed to last year? This is a chance for my ill fiance to hang out with his best friend and RELAX...one thing he really needs to do. I didn't think I was that bad of a person to stress somebody out to the point of having a stroke, but I guess I am.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Busy, Busy, Busy
Once I found out I didn't have cancer, I decided to help my fiance coach my son's Little League team. I got the uniform shirt with my name on the back and all that cool stuff! My job was to do the scorebook for our team and keep the kids in line in the dugout. Now imagine 13 excited kids all between the ages of 7 and 12. I took many, many Excedrin over the last couple of months...
"My" kids did an awesome job this season, even though they won only 5 games. That was after the 3-in-a-row winning streak towards the end of the season. Our city tourney was last Monday, and our game went into extra innings. We were playing a team that had thoroughly walloped us in our previous meetings. We lost, but it was because of a bad call by the umpire. He even admitted it was bad, after the game was over, of course! Grrrrrrr...
Even though I did some complaining about the time baseball was taking up (5 games in one week is a little too much!), I wouldn't have traded that time for anything else right now. My kids yell "Coach Ann!" when they see me around town, and they tell me they'll miss me next season. Most of these kids are close to my son's age, and I've been reminding them of that. I'll be seeing them for a few more years. We're going to have a cookout for the team and their parents, just to show all of them that we really appreciated all the effort everybody put forth this season. My son didn't make All-Stars this season, but we'll still go to some of the tournaments just to suppport the kids who played for us. But we won't go to 5 games a week, that's for sure!
"My" kids did an awesome job this season, even though they won only 5 games. That was after the 3-in-a-row winning streak towards the end of the season. Our city tourney was last Monday, and our game went into extra innings. We were playing a team that had thoroughly walloped us in our previous meetings. We lost, but it was because of a bad call by the umpire. He even admitted it was bad, after the game was over, of course! Grrrrrrr...
Even though I did some complaining about the time baseball was taking up (5 games in one week is a little too much!), I wouldn't have traded that time for anything else right now. My kids yell "Coach Ann!" when they see me around town, and they tell me they'll miss me next season. Most of these kids are close to my son's age, and I've been reminding them of that. I'll be seeing them for a few more years. We're going to have a cookout for the team and their parents, just to show all of them that we really appreciated all the effort everybody put forth this season. My son didn't make All-Stars this season, but we'll still go to some of the tournaments just to suppport the kids who played for us. But we won't go to 5 games a week, that's for sure!
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Scary Stuff
Last Friday, I went for my first mammogram - ever. I've heard many horror stories about this medical procedure, but I needed to have it done because my OB/GYN found a lump in my breast. Probably not a big deal, he said, but it needed to be checked out. And I'm now 30 and supposed to have this done every three years, so this seemed like a good time to do it.
After being reassured by many friends and my mom, off I went to the hospital - alone. If I knew the following events were going to unfold, I would have enlisted an army to go with me.
The mammogram itself was not a big deal - two little squeezes on each breast and it was over. Then I sat in a tiny little room with crappy outdated magazines waiting for the results. A nurse came in AN HOUR LATER and informed me that I needed to have an ultrasound on my breast because the doctor didn't like the looks of the lump. I was rushed to the ultrasound room and saw said lump for the first time. It looked a little like a set of upside - down deformed Mickey Mouse ears. Due to the fact that I know so many people that have had tumors, I knew that a misshapen lump wasn't a good sign.
A short time later, a radiologist, ultrasound tech, and MY doctor entered the room. None of the liked the way the lump looked, so they ordered a biopsy. That's what I had done to me yesterday, and that's the scariest stuff of all.
I won't go into gory details, but you'll get the general idea if you've ever watched somebody getting liposuction on the Discovery Channel or that "Dr. 90210" show on E! network. My mom went with me, and totally freaked out when a 30 minute procedure turned into an hour and a half torture session.
I've been doing a lot of soul searching since last Friday. I've started getting all my legal things in order, just in case the tissue samples come back malignant. I got most of my hair cut off - that way I won't feel so sad when it falls out if I have to have chemo. I've checked into my life insurance situation at work, so maybe my son can still go to Notre Dame if I have cancer and it gets the best of me. I'm totally bummed that I can't go back to Los Angeles for a week at the end of June/beginning of July, because I might be going through chemo or radiation and I would be too sick to go. I don't have a negative attitude about all of this, I'm just being realistic. I have to have everything in order because I'm worried about this situation.
But I have lots of people praying for me and keeping me in their thoughts. Knowing that people care that much about me means the world to me, and I'm a firm believer in the power of positive thinking, so hopefully this will all work out. I also have plenty of activities to occupy my time, so that's helping to keep my mind off of what's going on. I mean, it's hard to be depressed around a bunch of 7-12 year old Little League baseball players or my bowling team. I'll find out the results of my biopsy on Tuesday or Wednesday of this upcoming week, so it's not that long of a wait.
After being reassured by many friends and my mom, off I went to the hospital - alone. If I knew the following events were going to unfold, I would have enlisted an army to go with me.
The mammogram itself was not a big deal - two little squeezes on each breast and it was over. Then I sat in a tiny little room with crappy outdated magazines waiting for the results. A nurse came in AN HOUR LATER and informed me that I needed to have an ultrasound on my breast because the doctor didn't like the looks of the lump. I was rushed to the ultrasound room and saw said lump for the first time. It looked a little like a set of upside - down deformed Mickey Mouse ears. Due to the fact that I know so many people that have had tumors, I knew that a misshapen lump wasn't a good sign.
A short time later, a radiologist, ultrasound tech, and MY doctor entered the room. None of the liked the way the lump looked, so they ordered a biopsy. That's what I had done to me yesterday, and that's the scariest stuff of all.
I won't go into gory details, but you'll get the general idea if you've ever watched somebody getting liposuction on the Discovery Channel or that "Dr. 90210" show on E! network. My mom went with me, and totally freaked out when a 30 minute procedure turned into an hour and a half torture session.
I've been doing a lot of soul searching since last Friday. I've started getting all my legal things in order, just in case the tissue samples come back malignant. I got most of my hair cut off - that way I won't feel so sad when it falls out if I have to have chemo. I've checked into my life insurance situation at work, so maybe my son can still go to Notre Dame if I have cancer and it gets the best of me. I'm totally bummed that I can't go back to Los Angeles for a week at the end of June/beginning of July, because I might be going through chemo or radiation and I would be too sick to go. I don't have a negative attitude about all of this, I'm just being realistic. I have to have everything in order because I'm worried about this situation.
But I have lots of people praying for me and keeping me in their thoughts. Knowing that people care that much about me means the world to me, and I'm a firm believer in the power of positive thinking, so hopefully this will all work out. I also have plenty of activities to occupy my time, so that's helping to keep my mind off of what's going on. I mean, it's hard to be depressed around a bunch of 7-12 year old Little League baseball players or my bowling team. I'll find out the results of my biopsy on Tuesday or Wednesday of this upcoming week, so it's not that long of a wait.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
The Secret of Life
I contemplated my life today. Not much went on at work , and my brain got bored and began to wander. Sometimes that's good, but I think this was one of those days when letting my mind wander wasn't such a good idea.
Here are the facts: I am 30 years old, unmarried with a child, and in a dead-end relationship with my boyfriend of 7 years. I really don't see myself marrying him, but I have no other options because I don't go out and meet new people. It's not that I don't want to go out, it's just that I can't. I met new people in LA, and look how that turned out! I didn't go there looking for a hook-up, but I wouldn't have been disappointed if one happened...
I am also faced with the fact that I might have to undergo a life-altering surgery that would make me unable to have any more children. Men usually don't date women with children that aren't theirs, so I'm thinking my options will be even more limited if I can't have any more children. I'm sure the wedding dress I bought last year will continue to hang in my closet. Maybe my son's fiancee would like to wear it in about 20 years...
There are a couple of guys I'm interested in, but I have no idea how they would feel about the idea. The last time I told a guy how I felt about him, our friendly relationship got strained and just plain "weird". Maybe I'm afraid of losing another friend, or maybe I'm afraid of the crushing blow that's delivered to my ego when feelings aren't reciprocated.
No matter what the reason is, I'm convinced of one thing - I'm a scaredy-cat. I'm afraid to leave what's comfortable and routine to me (my relationship with my boyfriend) to strike out on new adventures and relationships. I would love to find a different guy to have a romantic relationship with. I don't think it's going to happen anytime soon, but I wish it would!
So, what is the so-called "secret of life"? If I knew, I would tell you. But I can tell you this - live every day as if it were your last.
Here are the facts: I am 30 years old, unmarried with a child, and in a dead-end relationship with my boyfriend of 7 years. I really don't see myself marrying him, but I have no other options because I don't go out and meet new people. It's not that I don't want to go out, it's just that I can't. I met new people in LA, and look how that turned out! I didn't go there looking for a hook-up, but I wouldn't have been disappointed if one happened...
I am also faced with the fact that I might have to undergo a life-altering surgery that would make me unable to have any more children. Men usually don't date women with children that aren't theirs, so I'm thinking my options will be even more limited if I can't have any more children. I'm sure the wedding dress I bought last year will continue to hang in my closet. Maybe my son's fiancee would like to wear it in about 20 years...
There are a couple of guys I'm interested in, but I have no idea how they would feel about the idea. The last time I told a guy how I felt about him, our friendly relationship got strained and just plain "weird". Maybe I'm afraid of losing another friend, or maybe I'm afraid of the crushing blow that's delivered to my ego when feelings aren't reciprocated.
No matter what the reason is, I'm convinced of one thing - I'm a scaredy-cat. I'm afraid to leave what's comfortable and routine to me (my relationship with my boyfriend) to strike out on new adventures and relationships. I would love to find a different guy to have a romantic relationship with. I don't think it's going to happen anytime soon, but I wish it would!
So, what is the so-called "secret of life"? If I knew, I would tell you. But I can tell you this - live every day as if it were your last.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Just a General Update
It's been a while, but I've been somewhat busy. Let me fill you in...
I got my tax refund check about 3 weeks ago, so I decided to pay off a few bills and get some new tires on my car.
*Gets all dreamy eyed*
I love my car! It's a 2001 PT Cruiser, Patriot Blue in color. I had wanted a PT Cruiser ever since they were introduced in the year 2000. I even managed to sneak a picture of one as it sat on the lot at a local Chrysler dealership! I finally got my car in September of 2003. Anyway, my car is the thing I value secondmost in my life. Family and friends being first, of course. My son is involved in wrestling and bowling, and my drive to work is between 30 and 45 minutes. Therefore, my car usually looks a mess. But I keep it running well...
I took Blueser (Yeah, she's got a name) to a local place to get new tires and aligned. The nice man told me that she would be done the next day. He accidentally lied. He called me at work the next day to inform me that my car's lower control arm was out. Being as I had no clue what a lower control arm was, I stopped by after work. All it was was a pair of rubber bushings that control the car's vertical alignment. No big deal...or so I thought. According to this man (who I swear was prejudiced against women), he would have to order the bushings from a Chrysler dealer, and it would probably take the rest of the week to get them. This was on a Wednesday. Monday, he calls me and tells me that Blueser is done. I had to pay almost $650 to get my girl back, but she doesn't shake and shudder when she gets up to 40 mph anymore!
This past Saturday afternoon, I woke up from a nap with an ache in my stomach. Not a tummyache, but a general pain in my stomach. I didn't really think too much of it, and continued on with my evening. Sunday morning, the pain was worse. I could barely sleep Sunday night, so I called in sick to work on Monday. I thought I had pulled a muscle, so I took a few muscle relaxers and slept most of the day on Monday (the same day I got my car back). I had borrowed my Mom's car while mine was in the shop, so I took it back to her Monday afternoon. She had the insight to tell me, "You know, it might be your appendix". Yikes! I checked WebMD.com when I got back home, and I had most of the symptoms of appendicitis. YIKES! Panicked, I called my boyfriend's mom, who works in a local ER. She told me to get to the doctor first thing in the morning...unless my temperature spiked or I started puking. I ate dinner and played around on the computer for a few, watched an anime called Golden Boy, then I tried to go to bed. My stomach hurt so bad that I thought I was going to die, so off to the ER we went. After getting stuck twice by the nice guy who was trying to draw blood from me, a CAT scan of my stomach by a nice lady who shot me full of dye and made me feel like I peed my pants, and a few visits from the on-call doctor (who was totally hot), I was diagnosed...it was an ovarian cyst. Not just any cyst. I saw the results of the CAT scan, and my ovary was roughly the size of a grapefruit. No wonder I was in so much pain! A call to my "female" doctor eased my mind, and my appointment in two weeks will ease it even more. I'm still hurting, but it's not nearly as bad as it was the other night.
On a lighter note, I got a new bowling ball, found out I have about 5 vacation days I can use at work (possibly L.A. bound at the end of June!), and I also found out that Jimmy Buffett tickets go on sale for Indianapolis on this upcoming Monday. Fins up! :-)
I got my tax refund check about 3 weeks ago, so I decided to pay off a few bills and get some new tires on my car.
*Gets all dreamy eyed*
I love my car! It's a 2001 PT Cruiser, Patriot Blue in color. I had wanted a PT Cruiser ever since they were introduced in the year 2000. I even managed to sneak a picture of one as it sat on the lot at a local Chrysler dealership! I finally got my car in September of 2003. Anyway, my car is the thing I value secondmost in my life. Family and friends being first, of course. My son is involved in wrestling and bowling, and my drive to work is between 30 and 45 minutes. Therefore, my car usually looks a mess. But I keep it running well...
I took Blueser (Yeah, she's got a name) to a local place to get new tires and aligned. The nice man told me that she would be done the next day. He accidentally lied. He called me at work the next day to inform me that my car's lower control arm was out. Being as I had no clue what a lower control arm was, I stopped by after work. All it was was a pair of rubber bushings that control the car's vertical alignment. No big deal...or so I thought. According to this man (who I swear was prejudiced against women), he would have to order the bushings from a Chrysler dealer, and it would probably take the rest of the week to get them. This was on a Wednesday. Monday, he calls me and tells me that Blueser is done. I had to pay almost $650 to get my girl back, but she doesn't shake and shudder when she gets up to 40 mph anymore!
This past Saturday afternoon, I woke up from a nap with an ache in my stomach. Not a tummyache, but a general pain in my stomach. I didn't really think too much of it, and continued on with my evening. Sunday morning, the pain was worse. I could barely sleep Sunday night, so I called in sick to work on Monday. I thought I had pulled a muscle, so I took a few muscle relaxers and slept most of the day on Monday (the same day I got my car back). I had borrowed my Mom's car while mine was in the shop, so I took it back to her Monday afternoon. She had the insight to tell me, "You know, it might be your appendix". Yikes! I checked WebMD.com when I got back home, and I had most of the symptoms of appendicitis. YIKES! Panicked, I called my boyfriend's mom, who works in a local ER. She told me to get to the doctor first thing in the morning...unless my temperature spiked or I started puking. I ate dinner and played around on the computer for a few, watched an anime called Golden Boy, then I tried to go to bed. My stomach hurt so bad that I thought I was going to die, so off to the ER we went. After getting stuck twice by the nice guy who was trying to draw blood from me, a CAT scan of my stomach by a nice lady who shot me full of dye and made me feel like I peed my pants, and a few visits from the on-call doctor (who was totally hot), I was diagnosed...it was an ovarian cyst. Not just any cyst. I saw the results of the CAT scan, and my ovary was roughly the size of a grapefruit. No wonder I was in so much pain! A call to my "female" doctor eased my mind, and my appointment in two weeks will ease it even more. I'm still hurting, but it's not nearly as bad as it was the other night.
On a lighter note, I got a new bowling ball, found out I have about 5 vacation days I can use at work (possibly L.A. bound at the end of June!), and I also found out that Jimmy Buffett tickets go on sale for Indianapolis on this upcoming Monday. Fins up! :-)
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Hearts and Candy and Flowers? Blech!
Yeah, it's that time of year again...Valentine's Day. This day has never been good to me - ever. My first appointment ever with a gynocologist was on Valentine's Day. Sheesh!
I'm in a committed relationship - therefore, I'm supposed to be happy on this day. Right? WRONG! My boyfriend is my opposite in pretty much every way imaginable. I'm the romantic one, full of ideas about how to make this "the bestest Valentine's Day ever". That's what I say every year. He has no understanding of the meaning of the word "romantic". His idea of going out for dinner is eating at the nearest Rally's or Burger King. And I usually pay for the food.
Then I take a look at the diamond ring on the third finger of my left hand. In usual circumstances, this would be considered an engagement ring. It looks like an engagement ring, but I have no idea what it is. I didn't get a marriage proposal with my ring. Let me tell you what he did...
We were at a Wal-Mart almost two weeks ago, and he pulled a ring box out of his pocket and tossed it to me. I barely caught it, because I wasn't expecting it. "There ya go", he said. I opened the box and put it on my finger. Honestly, I expected at least a "Will you marry me?". This is what I got instead: "What kind of cat food have you been buying lately"? Yeah, we were in the pet food aisle of a local Wal-Mart when I got my engagment ring. I think it's an engagement ring, because he didn't actually ask me to marry him. He's asked me in the past, but never with a ring. And now that he had a ring to give me, he didn't ask me. AAAAARGH!!!
What's a girl to do? Should I marry this man who is so insensitive to my romantic needs, or should I move on? I love my boyfriend, or fiance, or whatever he is...but I'm not in love with him. And I haven't been for a long time. I've been with this guy for the better part of 7 years, so I should know him very well. But I don't, because he keeps his feelings and emotions locked up inside and rarely lets them out. Our little joke is that I'm emotional enough for the both of us. He would rather stay at home all the time, and I'm always itching to get out of the house and do something fun. The one thing we have in common is Notre Dame football. Even though college football compatibility is important in a healthy relationship, it's not the most important thing.
I need a man who is intelligent, considerate, financially stable, ambitious, knows how to dress, has a great sense of humor, and yes...a man who is somewhat of a romantic. Not necessarily the sappy kind of romantic, but the kind who would by me flowers or a bunch of balloons for no reason except the fact that he loves having me in his life. I know I'm asking for a lot, but a girl can dream...can't she? Until the day my Mr. Right makes himself known to me, the two songs I'll be humming and singing are "When You Wish Upon a Star" and "Someday My Prince Will Come".
I'm in a committed relationship - therefore, I'm supposed to be happy on this day. Right? WRONG! My boyfriend is my opposite in pretty much every way imaginable. I'm the romantic one, full of ideas about how to make this "the bestest Valentine's Day ever". That's what I say every year. He has no understanding of the meaning of the word "romantic". His idea of going out for dinner is eating at the nearest Rally's or Burger King. And I usually pay for the food.
Then I take a look at the diamond ring on the third finger of my left hand. In usual circumstances, this would be considered an engagement ring. It looks like an engagement ring, but I have no idea what it is. I didn't get a marriage proposal with my ring. Let me tell you what he did...
We were at a Wal-Mart almost two weeks ago, and he pulled a ring box out of his pocket and tossed it to me. I barely caught it, because I wasn't expecting it. "There ya go", he said. I opened the box and put it on my finger. Honestly, I expected at least a "Will you marry me?". This is what I got instead: "What kind of cat food have you been buying lately"? Yeah, we were in the pet food aisle of a local Wal-Mart when I got my engagment ring. I think it's an engagement ring, because he didn't actually ask me to marry him. He's asked me in the past, but never with a ring. And now that he had a ring to give me, he didn't ask me. AAAAARGH!!!
What's a girl to do? Should I marry this man who is so insensitive to my romantic needs, or should I move on? I love my boyfriend, or fiance, or whatever he is...but I'm not in love with him. And I haven't been for a long time. I've been with this guy for the better part of 7 years, so I should know him very well. But I don't, because he keeps his feelings and emotions locked up inside and rarely lets them out. Our little joke is that I'm emotional enough for the both of us. He would rather stay at home all the time, and I'm always itching to get out of the house and do something fun. The one thing we have in common is Notre Dame football. Even though college football compatibility is important in a healthy relationship, it's not the most important thing.
I need a man who is intelligent, considerate, financially stable, ambitious, knows how to dress, has a great sense of humor, and yes...a man who is somewhat of a romantic. Not necessarily the sappy kind of romantic, but the kind who would by me flowers or a bunch of balloons for no reason except the fact that he loves having me in his life. I know I'm asking for a lot, but a girl can dream...can't she? Until the day my Mr. Right makes himself known to me, the two songs I'll be humming and singing are "When You Wish Upon a Star" and "Someday My Prince Will Come".
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
The Online Matchmaking Thing
Last night, I was online and bored. That's a sign something bad could happen. I was chatting with a friend in IM, and he mentioned he had signed up for one of those online matchmaking services. I started thinking, which is sometimes another bad thing. Personality profile? Compatability chart? Sign me up...as long as it's free. It sounded like fun, and I WAS bored...
45 minutes later, I'm still filling out the form for my free personality profile. This profile thing is making me look only slightly less boring and slightly more intelligent than a stick figure. I'm asking my online friends their opinions of me on certain things, and they're not answering me. This is looking VERY promising! (Lots of sarcasm on that last statement.)
Normally, I'm not so introspective. I know who I am and what I like...or do I? Most of my answers are "somewhat", because I'm afraid one extreme or the other might burn the wrong impression of me into some stranger's brain. Then it occurs to me...I'm taking this thing seriously. Maybe too seriously.
I mean, I've met people online and hit it off very well, but not so well once I met them face-to-face. Yet other people I've met online are just as nice and sweet in real life. Unfortunately, some of those meetings didn't lead to the result I would have liked, but that's another story.
I wasted almost and hour and 15 minutes filling out that survey, and I was quite disappointed when I saw I had no "matches" upon answering all of the questions I was asked. I ranted and raved about becoming the "crazy old cat lady down the street", then I went to bed. (Thanks for putting up with that - you know who you are!) I checked my e-mail when I got online a few minutes ago, and I had 7 matches! Not only did I now have matches, but 3 of them live in my state, and 2 of those guys live within an hour's drive of where I live! And 4 men want to open communications with me. Such a big change from no matches last night!
Now that my ego has been soothed and I've been told what kind of person I am, one question remains...Am I going to contact these men? Probably not. I still have a boyfriend, who is in the process of buying me an engagement ring. Does that mean my boyfriend will soon become my husband? Probably not anytime soon, if ever. But that's a story for a different time...
45 minutes later, I'm still filling out the form for my free personality profile. This profile thing is making me look only slightly less boring and slightly more intelligent than a stick figure. I'm asking my online friends their opinions of me on certain things, and they're not answering me. This is looking VERY promising! (Lots of sarcasm on that last statement.)
Normally, I'm not so introspective. I know who I am and what I like...or do I? Most of my answers are "somewhat", because I'm afraid one extreme or the other might burn the wrong impression of me into some stranger's brain. Then it occurs to me...I'm taking this thing seriously. Maybe too seriously.
I mean, I've met people online and hit it off very well, but not so well once I met them face-to-face. Yet other people I've met online are just as nice and sweet in real life. Unfortunately, some of those meetings didn't lead to the result I would have liked, but that's another story.
I wasted almost and hour and 15 minutes filling out that survey, and I was quite disappointed when I saw I had no "matches" upon answering all of the questions I was asked. I ranted and raved about becoming the "crazy old cat lady down the street", then I went to bed. (Thanks for putting up with that - you know who you are!) I checked my e-mail when I got online a few minutes ago, and I had 7 matches! Not only did I now have matches, but 3 of them live in my state, and 2 of those guys live within an hour's drive of where I live! And 4 men want to open communications with me. Such a big change from no matches last night!
Now that my ego has been soothed and I've been told what kind of person I am, one question remains...Am I going to contact these men? Probably not. I still have a boyfriend, who is in the process of buying me an engagement ring. Does that mean my boyfriend will soon become my husband? Probably not anytime soon, if ever. But that's a story for a different time...
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