mile marker 203

another year, another car.

about this time last year i was trading in bonnie for eve and a plane ticket to london.

well, here it is a year later, and eve has now been replaced by betty.

eve, top, she had a good run. betty, bottom, welcome to the family.

no, there was nothing wrong with eve, but she just...wasn't right. i don't see myself as a hatchback station wagon mom. plus, there were issues with the title from the day i bought her AND it took several days to even decide on a name for her. that should have been the first clue.

BUT, for better or worse, eve is the car that made it possible for me to get to london and back for the fairy tale adventure. i owe her a large debit of gratitude for that.

the spawns didn't (don't) understand why i traded in Eve: THERE WAS NOTHING WRONG WITH THE OTHER CAR MOM.

and granted, there wasn't. and yes, i traded down in some aspects- from a 2010 car to a 2000 car. i reasoned it all out and rationalized it- betty is a VW which is a more reliable/longer lasting car than eve, a dodge (even with higher repair costs figured in). betty also has fewer blind spots and will be better on gas mileage AND she isn't a hatch back station wagon soccer mom car. plus, betty has  heated seats. and a sun roof. i've always wanted a car with a sun roof.

SEE, I HAD GOOD REASONS.

saying goodbye to eve was shockingly easy. i never really did get attached to her. but i did get to thinking- what is it that makes me want to change cars so often? and why always in october?

i bought my very first car in october- a 1988 GOLD (we're talking mr. t would have loved it GOLD) chevy beretta. this was long before the days of naming things, so that car just was what it was.

that car lasted a few years until the big spawn arrived and two doors with flip bucket seats wasn't quite working. i can't remember when exactly it was, but i'm pretty sure it was fall-ish when i switched the beretta out for the saturn sl2 (that's the best they could do? sl2? blah).

i drove the saturn through college until it DIED back during the days of marriage. it was december-ish when i took over driving the truck (through the divorce proceedings) and april when i traded the truck for annie, the focus (and the first one to get a name).

annie lasted until bonnie, bonnie begat eve, and eve begat betty. that's the way the begat thing works, right? 

so, not ALL my cars are october babies, but an odd proportion of them are, particularly the last three in a row.

i'm not sure why i've taking to changing so often the last few years- maybe it's some deep seeded control issue- they've all been during/after a pretty sizeable change in life- bonnie was after my dad passed, eve was for london, and betty is after finally getting back to work.

maybe it's my fear of commitment to anything for an extended length of time- i mean, bonnie was BRAND NEW and would have lasted for years if i hadn't grown to sincerely dislike her and traded her in. 

maybe it's just that i had legit issues with the cars and, since they were paid for, could afford to change out (legit to me at least).

you can tell, for all my wondering i've put so much thought into this.

either way, eve is back in foster care until she finds a new home, and bonnie is now keeping my buns toasty warm on the commute to work (heated seats = awesome).

what's in a name?

in an effort to actually hit the publish button more often, i'm just going to start truly vomiting again on here- all the random crap that pops into my brain during the day, the strange ideas (most of them BRILLIANT by the way), the random stories- ALL of it.

i'm learning to let go of the length of the post- they don't all need to be a three part docudrama. 

SO.

here we go.

i have this weird thing about names- there's certain ones i just HATE (anything that ends in an i just really needs to stop existing).

there's some i simply avoid, mainly in the dating arena- ben and steven (brothers), gary (dad).

there's certain names that just instantly make me want to vomit and punch a kitten at the same time (mike in particular).

then there's those that trigger this fucked up response in my head that...well...it's me. that's all you need to know.

for example- i can't hear the name george without saying jjjorjjje the way eva gabor did in the aristocats.

georges hautcourt, lawyer,  the aristocats, disney 1970

whenever i hear the name frank i think of the rescuers down under...

frank the frill-necked lizard, rescuers down under, disney, 1990

any time my kids yell for me across the house all i hear is MA! THE MEATLOAF!

will farrell as chazz reinhold, wedding crashers, 2005

it's been interesting at work answering the phones more and talking to all sorts of people, all different names. some times i just shake my head, other times i wish i had a time machine to go back and slap some parents. i'm sure anyone listening to me write messages thinks i'm partially crazy. mostly from the things i say while writing the names on the message board, partially just from the fact that if it isn't written straight i'll erase the whole thing and start all over.

on another name tangent- over the years i've picked up naming random inanimate objects. i've named my house, flamingos, cars, octopus hanging from my rear view mirror (bruce has now outlasted 3 cars. go bruce).

and finally, perhaps the strangest name habit- i like to assign people random middle names. really don't care what your ACTUAL middle name is, i'll give you different ones on different days. had a friend years ago that corrected me every time, and every time i called him a different middle name. not sure what it is- up until the days of twitter i NEVER used my own middle name. now there's a whole group of people that only know me as sherryrose.

some days i think it would be fun to work in an animal shelter or an orphanage to get to pick out names for all the critters and crib midgets- see if i can find something that particularly fits them. then i remember that there's the actual taking care of something after you name it and i'm tired and need a nap and realize maybe it's better to just name random things around my house.

back in the day, will shakespeare oh so romantically wrote: "what's in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." suggesting that the name doesn't have meaning, it's the person (object) behind it that is important. but i'm calling BULLSHIT. hey will...NAMES ARE IMPORTANT ASSHOLE. do you really think bartholomew shakespeare would have done so well? what about all the actors and actresses that change their names to be more catchy? NAMES ARE IMPORTANT. seriously.

imagine cinderella (or the little cinder girl for the purists) as beatrice the housekeeper. not quite the same disney ring to it now is there?

that's right. i'm calling shakespeare out. HEY WILL. YOU, ME, LOCAL STARBUCKS. IT'S ON.

not sure what the "it" is. sure as hell wouldn't want to challenge him to a writing contest. bastard was brilliant even with the occasional fuck up.

anyway- names are important. so. i'll keep naming things. and avoiding things with names i don't like that i can't rename.

good enough?

"It's been a whole 10 days since you've posted! I'm jonsing for my hit."


and that is why i love my friends.


I KNOW. one post a week. remember when i promised that way back in january?

yeah...

so. i was having a facebook chat the other day and the topic happened to wander into the always entertaining ground of my dating life (or lack thereof).

i've actually been going out lately- meeting different people, consuming more cups of coffee than average.

I LIKE DATING. not a big fan of the relationship thing yet (lack of experience), but the dating thing is endlessly fascinating. the chance to meet someone new, get a peek into their life. it's always interesting to me to see which topics come up, hear scraps of history, glimpse other paths. i'm a big believer in the "time and a reason for everything" school of thought. i believe that each person you meet has something to tell you or you have something to tell them and the conversation will naturally steer itself in the direction it needs to go for that day. sometimes i feel like i'm not sharing anything which means that person probably had a message for me. same thing in reverse. sometimes its all about work, sometimes family, sometimes horrible experiences, sometimes good. i don't stress about over-sharing anymore (or undersharing). i honestly believe that i say what i need to when i need to.

ANYWAY.

enough of that hippie bullshit.


what i DON'T like about dating is that i'm just not interested in anyone. 

no one is making me want to rip their clothes off or wait with baited breath for their next call or text. i'm just not...you know...there is no THERE there.

and i feel like a BITCH about it. i have met some really great guys lately. not only do they have REAL jobs, cars, houses, but they're fun to talk to. they have goals and friends. they can carry on a conversation on multiple topics and they (sometimes) laugh at my terrible macabre jokes. i've enjoyed meeting several of them very much. these are REALLY GOOD GUYS.

i know. not the usual trainwreck you've been waiting for. THEIR FAULT.

but there's just no THERE there.

i feel like i'm just waiting for someone to shock me out of my stupor of sameness. they all say i'm so different, but they all blend together.

i mused with my friend the other day during our facebook chat- is there a certain point that...VA VA VA VOOM stops happening? where you're not really settling, but you're just not a twinkie 21 year old kid in love with the idea of falling in love?

when you add to it that my idea of love isn't necessarily the mushy feelings crap, but more intellectually based in the choice to care about someone and put them first even after all those butterflies have run into the bug zapper...maybe that shock factor doesn't exist or isn't realistic anymore.

is that just part of getting older? there's no longer kisses that leave you weak in the knees? there's no longer someone you can't wait to hear from again? am i just too cold and jaded for my own good?

it may be time to shift my thinking. realize that maybe there's more weight to good conversation over spark.

it's a hard idea to let go of though.

i've had kisses that left me weak in the knees and thinking that was a one time thing is a bit depressing.

i've had the cowboy two step me around the floor while singing along to "i'm holding heaven in my arms tonight." maybe i should be grateful i've had it happen. (by the way: that's a great story about how i once went out with a libertarian).

i've had the romance that i flew half way around the world for (and we all know how that turned out).

i've been the crazy girl waiting on edge for a call or text back and that isn't exactly a fun place to be.

i've been the overly emotional HOW AM I GOING TO LIVE WITHOUT HIM girl.

maybe it's time to be the HEY LOOK, A DECENT GUY girl.

maybe good enough IS good enough.

by the way...

*OFFICIAL NOTICE*
i have been working TWO WEEKS at full time hours now. the job hunt is officially over. i'm back among the standard 8-4 rat race. HOORAY.

it's the same job i've had for almost two years now- they were able to offer me full time AND I TOOK IT.

HOWEVER.

it seems that the universe likes to fuck with me as much as possible- an awesome opportunity couldn't be accepted without passing up and another equally as awesome opportunity. it could never be like HERE'S ONE OPTION. TAKE IT. of course not. that would be too nifty. my universe has to be like: hey- wandering around forever with ZERO options and nineteen kicks in the gut? well now you have to choose between THREE AMAZING THINGS ALL AT THE SAME TIME WITH NO CLUES AS TO WHICH IS THE BEST OPTION AT ALL.

i mean- thanks universe for finally pulling through, but REALLY?

SO. back to the point.

i think.

in the job interview process i was privileged enough to interview for some really fanfuckingtastic jobs including the local symphony (an office job, don't worry, i won't make you listen to my stellar piano skills any time soon), a few large corporations, and, my favorite, the INBA.

if you are unaware, locally the INBA (inland northwest business alliance) is part of a national "gay chamber of commerce."  they exist to make sure there is a list of LGBT owned or allied businesses available to those who need it.

side note: i HATE that we still live in a world where people still have to worry about "straightening" their house if they need service work done or being worried about running across a non-supportive business owner when trying to arrange an event or even just spend a day shopping. it would have been an awesome job to help build the web of support of businesses willing to say HEY, WE TREAT EVERYONE EQUAL.

ANYWAY. i was called back to the second round of interview for the position but had to bow out after deciding to accept the position where i already work.

happy but sad but happy day.

ANYWAY. back to the point.

during the first round of interviews, the interview panel asked: "if you approached a business about joining the INBA and the potential member asked "well, won't everyone think i'm gay if i join?" how would you handle that?"

the very first thought in my head was: REALLY? people would think that?

the second thought was: there's probably more behind them being worried about what people think than just joining a chamber.

my third thought was: YOU'RE A BUSINESS OWNER. MONEY IS MONEY. pretty darn sure you will lose little to no business by supporting the community as a whole equal set of citizens. any business you might possibly loose? pretty sure they weren't a good client if something as basic as that scared them away. does it really matter if they fleetingly wonder about who you go home with?

ANYTWADDLE.

i thought the question was interesting. would people really think you're gay because you support LGBT?

fast forward a week or so.

my brother called for one of his usual check up/humiliation sessions. actually, i take that back. it's been better the last few times. less judgy, more just basic chatty.

he was asking about work, if i'd been on any interviews, and i proceeded to tell him about the INBA.

oh...ARE YOU GAY?

you can't make this shit up. that was the FIRST question he asked me. not how many hours. not how i heard about it. not how the interview went.

him: ARE YOU GAY?

me: well, i'm bi. you knew that didn't you?

him: ummm...i don't think i did.

me: oh. huh. well you do now.

at that point i got a call on my work line (my brother called on my cell) and i had to interrupt to answer the customer.  2 minutes later, back to my brother:

him: remember when i told you to stay away from evil men? was this your solution?

me: ummm....

and that's how i accidentally came out to my brother.

who wouldn't want this?

so, you know the drill, the online dating profile is back up (has been for a while).

sheer boredom. onset of winter. needing the lawn mowed. whatever reason, it's back up again.

the "about me" section right now is pretty scant. i've always battled what to put in there- too much and no one will read it. too little and all you get are booty messages. too snarky and they all think you're a bitch. too plain and you aren't who you appear to be if you happen to meet anyone in person.

today (late last night but i was too lazy to write then) i decided to just say FUCK IT and write a profile that _I_ like and who the fuck cares if anyone else really likes it. i mean- honestly? the online dating world is NOT where to find a tolerable ever after. may as well have a little fun and throw it all out there. right?

so. here's the profile i'll be posting tonight:

i love taco bell more than anyone should. i try to balance it out with green smoothies, quinoa and good old fashioned home cooking but i more often than not succumb to the siren song of the cheesy fake meat goodness.

i am not the girl to take on a hike. like- EVER. but, i am the girl that will go on a 3 mile fundraiser walk in the rain on a saturday morning with you. i rock the hell out of a mom suit (you know, the kind with the skirt attached) and LOVE being near water if you don't mind spending a few hours spraying me down with spf 70 so i don't flash burn in the sun like the pretend vampires in those crappy teen movies (which i have watched and read. don't judge me). that's about as sporty as i get.

i've managed to keep two spawns, a dog and assorted plants alive for quite a while without major trauma (aside from a few staples in the head- the spawns, not the dog). one of the spawn is officially in high school now which, of course, means that i've lost all my intelligence for the next several years. hope you don't mind.  i've tried like h-e-double hockey sticks to raise my spawns to be open minded and accepting which can lead to some pretty interesting conversations around our house. the same extends to my friends and my non-blood family. my house is a safe zone to everyone- no judgement, open and respectful conversations.

i do have the holy trifecta: house, car, job. i pay my bills, make sure there's food in the fridge, and still manage to go out on occasion and buy myself a beer or two (on $1 pbr night anyway).

i'm a nerd of the book variety- as in there's a really expensive piece of paper somewhere in my house saying i love books enough to wade through four years of college to prove it. as such, i reserve the right to a certain amount of snobbery. i prefer my gentlemen with the ability to create full sentences, maintain an actual full conversation, and maybe, PERHAPS, not require me to pick them up at their mom's house before a date.

as to the million dollar question: what am i looking for? in a perfect world it would be joseph gordon-levitt. i mean really- a guy that can reenact singin in the rain? what more could a girl ask for? BUT. i guess i'll settle for someone that likes to go out dancing or stay home and play cards against humanity. a guy that doesn't mind being around my spawns but doesn't feel the need to take over raising them (note: they're basically done. they can do their own laundry and cook a totino's pizza. what more do you need? also: hopefully any potential candidate can at least do the same). someone who is willing to to accept my friends and is willing to introduce me to his. a sense of humor is a must- you won't make it five minutes in my universe without one. i want someone that has as much fun going to walmart as going out to a bar- fun is where you make it. you have to be as comfortable at the opera house for best of broadway as you are at the arena for a hockey game and you also have to be willing to enjoy an occasional glass of wine as well as a crappy cheap beer.

on the short list of move along son, nothing to see here:
if you've been to jail other than a monopoly game- no thanks.
if you "have swagger" get a shot for that ish and keep moving.
if you have to walk like a retarded duck to keep your pants on since you refuse to wear them at the proper level- maybe your time would be better spent belt (or pant) shopping. 
if you pop your collar. really. REALLY??
if you take longer than me getting ready in the morning- i'm shallow. i don't share my mirror or my hair products.
if you can't legally take me out for a drink, you can't take me out.

if you made it this far- hug a teacher for teaching you how to read.

if you're interested in jumping in the shark tank, dive on in, the water's fine (and by that i mean it hasn't turned blue from the special dye that means someone's peed in it yet. hurry up.)


SO. that's it kids. let's see what poor suckers fall for it.