Books, books and oh wait...TV...

I'll relate something funny today as well as add another guy to the hotties list.  Oh, come on, I've not added someone to the hotties list in a looooong time...so I think we're due for a #10.

As we all know, I'm a bibliophile.  Come on, the only action happening in my bedroom is paper cuts because let's face it, my bed is always covered in romance novels.  Ok, I'm not seeing anyone volunteering for the job of being my boyfriend, so the romance novels will have to do.  The last one I read was another Kenyon, "Born of Shadows" which was really good, I enjoyed it, but you guys know me, I have to have a constant stream of input coming in so my mind stays focused.  So, without a new Kenyon coming out for at least another couple of months, I flipped on the television to find....oh yes...Game of Thrones.

I do realize that I could end the suspense of what's going to happen to that wonderful cast of characters written by George R. R. Martin by going down to the bookstore and picking all five books up, but you know, that takes all the fun out of the suspense of waiting until next spring for the next season to debut on HBO.

What's funny in all of this was last month, I was on the phone with Nan and we were having a great talk, and I turned around to see a Game of Thrones episode start...without even thinking, I blurted out, "Oooh, Game of Thrones is starting..." to which Nan said, "Isn't good?  We record it on the DVR." I sat shocked at the fact that my sister and I actually dug on the same TV show!  That, to me, was so cool.  At that, we wrapped up the conversation quickly and I took a flying leap onto the couch, snuggled up under my polka-dotted throw and sat drooling over the hotties in Game of Thrones.

Now, I'll definitely say that the cast of Game of Thrones is littered with the hot and not-so-hot.  Of course, those of us who went to the theaters back in 1992 to see Harrison Ford in Patriot Games got a very unexpected treat in the form of Sean Bean.  Ok, if that isn't enough for you, let's just say one name, "Boromir."  Thank you for playing...Sean Bean definitely had some hotness going on in the Lord of the Rings, but it was hard to see it because he was neck deep in other eye-candy, namely Orlando Bloom and Viggo Mortensen.  Now while I wasn't too crazy about the whole Legolas thing, or the whole Aragorn thing...I was totally into the Boromir thing going, "ooh, yeah...corruptible..." LOL   Ok, I'm kidding about the whole "corruptible" thing, but, you have to admit, Sean Bean has got some goodies going on, even though it's hidden behind the armor, the unwashed hair and unkempt beard along with ten tons of mud and some blood-caked blades.  So, it shouldn't be any surprise to see Sean getting back into the armor for Boromir 2.0.  I was really tickled to see him like that again and his portrayal of Eddard Stark was so sweet, it was like Boromir never died, got married and had a slew of kids, legitimate and one not-so-legitimate (Go Jon Snow!).  Gotta give kudos to Sean playing Eddard...as I read in an article earlier, he got "hosed by being merciful."  I say he should have just chopped that little shit Joffery's head off before everything went down.  Alas, we lost Eddard and I want to weep!  Getting an assured look at Sean Bean every week was a great way to enjoy a series!  It sucks that Sean has had to say goodbye to GoT, I really tuned in to see him every week.

Another guy (not-so-hot, but lovable) that got killed off was Mark Addy.  Damn it, you all know how I like Mark Addy.  I loved him as the rebooted Friar Tuck in Ridley Scott's not-so-great reboot of Robin Hood.  So to see Mark again all fixed up and leaving his good guy roles from A Knights Tale and the forementioned Robin Hood to play an unhappy king, rife with all sorts of flaws, it was a treat!  But what happened to him?  Dead.  Dang it!  Ugh!  And what happens?  The one guy who could have held it all together gets replaced by some little shit...it's agonizing!  He dies and we lose Eddard too...what is this?  Put together a great cast and kill them all off in the first season?  Argh!

Oh but then it gets worse, the girls in the series aren't the greatest examples of feminine behavior (who else got a little wigged out and uncomfortable at seeing Caitlyn's sister breast feeding her pre-adolescent son?  *shudder* EWWWWWW!  Creepy!)  We've got Cersei, who is just all sorts of twisted...and that whole incestuous Lannister thing...*ewww* again, and the simpering Sansa who IMHO should have shoved that little shit Joffery off the bridge, I don't care what the "The Hound" said or did.  Personally, I keep hoping The Hound has other plans for dispatching that little shit.  Can you tell I dislike Joffery?  Oh, you would not be wrong in the assumption that I don't like that character very much, but I don't think I'm alone in the sentiment.

Then there's Caitlyn and Arya.  Oh, who else absolutely adores the little girl who plays Arya?  She is so precious and pulls it off so well.  As far as Arya goes, I love how her "dance teacher" was actually her fencing instructor, and the fact that she's an all-around better fighter than her similarly aged brothers.  I can't wait to see how they progress her in Season Two, I fully expect by the end of the series that she'll be in full armor and kicking ass better than most of her male peers.

Her mom though, ooh, who else cheered when Caitlyn picked up the rock and punched Jamie Lannister in the mouth in the season finale?  I did!  I'm not quite down with Caitlyn's methodologies, but I did love the line where she tells Robb, "First we get your sisters back, THEN we kill them all."  LOL!  Woot!  Now that's a mom who has her priorities straight...make sure the kids are all safe then kill everyone else.  LOL.  What I didn't care for was how she accused Tyrion of shoving Bran out the window.  Yeah I know that we, as the audience, knew who did it, but come on, Tyrion? (Huge props to Peter Dinklage, more on him later.) He likes the Starks, has respect for them, it's Jamie, Cersei and that abomination Joffrey that are the psychos in house Lannister. (Don't get me started on the Tywin...btw, was I the only one who yelled out an impersonation of Eddie Murphy when Charles Dance came on screen hollering, "It's Noomsie!" from The Golden Child?)

But, let's get to the one good part of House Lannister.  As promised, let's give some props and kudos to Peter Dinklage who plays "The Imp" Tyrion.  Has anyone else noticed how many scenes he's saved, lightened up or just plain stole?  Oh wow, for being only 4'5" tall, he sure is a big presence in the room every time he comes in, so major props to Peter, he's rockin' that role and I'm soooooo glad he didn't get killed off, although him marching into war only to get knocked out by a hammer on the way was hysterical; the way he woke up to "oh, by the way, we won..." was priceless.  As far as the character of Tyrion goes, I truly think he's the one "good" guy in the "bad" guy camp.  You gotta know that somewhere along the line he's going to turn out to be the hero of the whole thing, he's going to be the one guy who saves the day, with casks of wine and whores in tow.  Headline:  Short man makes for tall king, film at 11.

But all that aside, we need to go across the ocean to find the rest of the goodies...

This brings us to hottie number 10...ok girls, put your hands up and show me how many of you go bonkers over Khal Drogo! (Hops up and down hollering "Me! Me! Me!") Jason Momoa, yes girls, he's got the whole Hawaiian thing going on, in which I'm just going to spare us all from the five paragraphs of the normal KP swooning. (You gals know how I love those island boys...nom nom nom nom nom....but I will say again that KP still brings the swoon factor to a fever pitch.)  But KP aside, let's go for the goods!  Drool with me girls...

*Whimper* Ok, looking *that* good should be a criminal offense.  OY VEH...knee buckle...swoon.  Jason Momoa goes onto the hotties list for a couple of reasons, first and foremost for me is his invocation of the KP factor.  Like it or not, the KP factor is powerful....just trust me on that.  Second is that he made the biggest badass be the guy that all the girls wanted to jump through the screen and slit Dany's throat, just for the sheer joy of the prospects of jumping into bed with him ourselves.  He showed us that under that badass exterior was a gentle soul who loved his wife.  Ok that right there, the whole "I can rule the world and love my wife with all my heart" thing, oh, Jason sold it big time, leaving every hopeful romantic girl going, "I want one of those."  NOM!

Then there is that little tidbit that he's rebooting Conan (that's what he's doing in the photo, being very "Conan", which gratefully his accent is a little less thick than the ex-Governators).  Think I'll be going to see that one...oh yeah...could care less about the script, I just may go with my .mp3 player filled with music and listen to that just so I can watch him for an hour and a half plus...when it's that good looking, who cares what comes out of their mouths, they can just stand there and smile for all I care, or in Jason's case, look dangerous.  LOL!  I'm just ticked to high heaven that the one true piece of eye-candy that I could have sustained myself on in Game of Thrones...they killed off.  UGH!  How could they kill off something that good looking?  First Sean now Jason!  It's so unfair! *weeps into hankerchief*  Oh the tragedy of it all, they've killed off all of the eye-candy! How could they? Waaaaaaaaah!  (I'm sitting here laughing my butt off at that over-dramatic, tongue-in-cheek humor.)

Ok, I've written enough for the day...it's going to suck having to wait until next spring for the next season of Game of Thrones, but considering what's left in the hotties pool, the Danish blonde that plays Jamie and um, a little of the guy who plays Robb, meh, welcome to a great story with a hottie drought.  There's not much left to watch except to root for Tyrion as he does his thing and pray that little shit Joffrey meets a very gruesome end.  In some small way, I want it to be that precious little girl Arya sticking it to him good with a grown-up version of Needle.

All the places I've been...

Today, I got asked "Out of all the places you've traveled, what was your favorite?"

That is a tall order to fill...considering my parents took us to Europe when I was 13 (it was actually Nan's graduation gift...), and that I've been a whole host of places, I can't really have a favorite.

Here's what I replied...

I've been so many places that I really don't have a favorite. I'm peculiar, I have this phrase I use for life, "nutritional value." The way I look at it is that each place I've been has brought a unique nutritional value to who I am. When I was a kid, my favorite place in the universe was to sit at night on the stairs leading to the beach when my parents would take my sister and I to South Padre Island every summer. I fell in love with the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach and seeing beautiful stars twinkling overhead.

Another unique place I've seen is the view from the top of the ski jump in Innsbruck. The thing that sticks out in my mind is that the ski jump looks directly into a graveyard...it was creepy, but when you're 13 and traveling around Europe, it makes for a memory that will stick to you forever. I guess it taught me that anything you do has a certain amount of risk, how far you're willing to go is what makes you who you are.

The Swan Room in Neuschwanstein Castle was another favorite spot, although the entry room with it's highly polished wooden floors had me looking at my dad and saying, "Hey Dad, wonder how far we could skid across that if we took a run at it in our socks..." Daddy hugged me and said, "Not today Angel." LOL

I loved the view of Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower. The city sprawls in all sorts of unique directions, the roads are rarely straight and it was just so beautiful to see a city that enormous. It taught me that the world was so much bigger than I was and to not go out and see it all would be denying myself a great adventure.

I also loved The Louvre, it was so enormous that we only got to take in part of it, I want to go back one day and see the rest. I remember looking at the Mona Lisa and thinking she probably had horrible teeth so Leonardo painted her with that smile to cover them up. LOL

The one thing I could not stand in Paris was Notre Dame Cathedral. Oh, when you walk in, it feels so foreboding, it left me with the sensation that it was filled with a lot of angry dead people. I booked it out of there as fast as my little feet could have carried me. When I got outside, my Dad was right next to me and said, "Angel, did that feel creepy to you too?" I looked back at him and said, "Daddy, I don't know what all the fuss is about, the stained glass windows are beautiful and all, but you couldn't catch me dead back in there, it really creeped me out." At that point, we both laughed and sat outside people watching while my sister and mother stayed inside for a while longer.

But spending a month in Europe made me appreciate the little things, there was a small town called Rudesheim on the Rhine, and it was so quaint and peaceful. I loved that little town, it was easy to walk around and just look at the buildings and think about how old they were and how many people had walked those worn cobblestone streets before me. However, one of the coolest things I got to see was the cathedral where my parents got married in my mom's hometown. It was probably one of the most beautiful churches I've ever seen. The city itself is so sweet, and to sit with my grandmother while she drank a glass of dark beer was priceless...(my American grandmother, that I grew up seeing on a regular basis, never drank a drop of alcohol).

I can't play favorites out of all the places I've been and things I've experienced. I loved standing up the entire game at Kyle Field in College Station watching the Aggies whip the fool out of TU (the University of Texas is not the only university IN Texas. My family full of Aggies will attest to that...) I loved sitting four rows up from the ice watching the Habs put the smackdown on Boston at Centré Bell in Montreal, and I still have my bat from Bat Day at Texas Stadium in Arlington when my Dad took me to my first baseball game. I've been so many places that I love them all.

But, I've always loved the ocean best. I really loved Cancun for the view from my 12th story balcony, a full moon awash in a sea of stars while the water below glistened in the moonlight.

The one place in the world that really takes the cake is lying on my back in the middle of the main exhibit at the aquarium I used to work at. To look up and see all of those Sand Tigers, Sandbars, Stingrays, Turtles and fish swimming around above me with only the sound of my own breathing and watching the bubbles race to the surface was truly amazing. The whole reason they sent us in there was to clean the exhibit, but I often found myself trailing around behind the stingrays and "flying" behind them. It was so beautiful. I know it was only 26 feet of water, but considering that attaining neutral buoyancy is how we fly in a fluid space, the fish never bothered me, because in that moment with the ground far below me and the ceiling high above, it was pure heaven.

So, as you can see, I try not to play favorites, although the ocean will unwittingly win out every time. Each place I've been has brought a unique experience to me that I would hate to undervalue.

Not bad huh?  Well, after all that, I guess I can say:
 

No...I'm not well traveled, heavens no, considering that's about 1/10th of what I've seen in my lifetime...

Between the Digital and the Real

First, we start off with some mood music...just to get the juices flowing...

Daft Punk - End of Line


After the last couple of days surrounded by my own dismal and highly unnecessary neuroses, I decided to get back to really what makes me tick...the fact that I dig on "bio-digital jazz, man..."  If you don't know where the quote is from, it's courtesy of the first guy to make the jump from real to digital...the one and only Kevin Flynn, played by the legendary Jeff Bridges in Tron and Tron: Legacy.

Y'all know me, I dig so hard into the virtual space that sometimes it's hard to figure out where I stop and my connection to the digital begins. After writing this:

While MMOWs are not technically “games”, the genre in which they reside gives rise to the arts and the user’s participation with higher art forms.  Artistic inspiration is found in the creation and artistic texturing of a building on a digital landscape to the artistry in a unique piece of clothing or a vehicle used by an avatar, even down to the terrain the avatar walks on and the sounds and/or music that permeates the real-time simulation, the genre gives audiences an opportunity to experience the arts that, in some societies and socio-economic strata, have been lost over time.  

I know, right?  I love that paragraph, and that's what I do, I create bio-digital jazz in which I tell people about the wonders of the virtual space and what a person can do within it.  Sorry guys, but that really gets me going.

Think about it, my formative years, after sitting in that darkened movie theater when I was 11 seeing Tron for the first time, were spent trying to get into the machine.  I dreamed night after night of getting hit by that crazy laser in the Encom building and being pulled into the machine, now look at what I do, I'm still a Kevin Flynn disciple, bringing the wonders of the grid to the world.

You should have seen what I've seen in the last six weeks, something that bends the mind to places where you go, "Whoa man..."  It's some SERIOUS bio-digital jazz.  I really do love what I do and after spending nearly three weeks writing on the subject, I'm having a hard time trying to differentiate between why the real world is so appealing while the digital representation seems to speak more volumes to me than my boring corporeal self.

Think about it, when you're behind the controls of your avatar, you're fearless.  There's no mountain you can't climb (barring collision mesh) and if you fall, you get back up again without a scratch.  The only way your avatar suffers is by "de-resolution" because you typed in the word "delete" or just simply uninstalled the program.  On top of that, there is no being judged physically while you're in a digital space, what are they going to judge? Your pixels?  They're the same pixels everyone else has...just customized a bit differently.

So anyway, after I got done writing for work tonight, I decided to get my zen on.  I plugged in to the inspiration of why I love what I do, and what gives me the most ease when I'm down, I pressed "play" on my DVD player to immerse myself into Tron: Legacy one more time.  I swoon every time over the new suits, the new computer animation for the new light cycles and their light walls.  But it's the whole premise of being inside the machine that gets me every time.  I sat on my couch drooling over every visual aspect of the film, and as I did, it made me realize that there is maybe one man in a billion who's going to get the bio-digital jazz that's zooming around in my head and how it drives me.  

I don't know what it is, inside the digital space, I'm more comfortable, it fits like a second skin and I feel more at home and stress-free inside of it.  I speak to it, it speaks to me.  Let's face it, inside the digital space with all of my knowledge, I'm as close to "all-powerful" as I'm ever going to get.  Put me behind my druid, and I'm a nearly bullet-proof, sharp-clawed decimation machine or healing wonder, put me inside the world of Myst and I get lost at the world's coolest MENSA convention and I'm among "my people."

I started out in the digital space as an ordinary explorer, just playing a game, understanding the Myst universe for all of it's quirks and real-time tactile sensations.  Think about it, most virtual worlds don't make you turn the doorknob to open the door, do they?  No, they don't.  But there I was, opening doors, pulling levers and using my brain to actually solve the problems in front of me that when I touched something, it had impact on what was going to follow, just like in the real world.  On top of that, I was given the gift of the most beautiful photo-realistic scenery that was to everyone on the outside completely fantastical, but there I was, accepting it as normal.

I started out in virtual worlds because my real world was a colorless, snow-covered wasteland where I didn't speak the language, I didn't fit in, on top of that, I was neglected and ignored by the one person in the world that was supposed to be my partner.  But, as soon as I jacked in to my digital world, everyone spoke the same language, it was filled with new sights, sounds, colors and an infinite supply of people who knew EXACTLY what I was talking about.  It was like coming home to no home I had ever known.  People loved me not because of what I looked like, but because of who I was in spirit.  I guess you could say that my external search for acceptance had come to an end the moment I logged in to a virtual world.

Now look at me, I write poetically and convincingly about the uses of virtual worlds for people who have difficulty in the real world, so I guess I'm writing for all of the people like me who find acceptance inside the virtual space.  Who don't rely on an "interview process" as a first date, where when you meet someone inside the virtual space, you already have something in common, you don't have to wonder if they're judging your physical appearance and you just roll with the flow, conquer the obstacles, and your energy moves through your digital representation with fluid skill.

But alas, here I am caught squarely between the digital and the real.  I have to face facts that while I love my digital constructs and all the trimmings of technology, some people don't get it and I have no right whatsoever to expect them to, even however much I'd like them to.

I was asked about how I can fumble my Blackberry and how I'm all thumbs at the hand-held technology that everyone in the world can't seem to live without.  My answer at the time wasn't the best, but at least now I can express it a little more clearly, it's the fact that those small hand-held devices can't hold a candle to the digital constructs I'm used to working with.  I deal in three-dimensional constructs, not apps on a phone.  I move at a speed that is much faster and with my quad-core driving the whole thing, there's no where I can't go faster than the speed of light.  4G?  Pffft, nada compared to the processing speed of my gorgeous desktop computer and modem.  My Blackberry is a phone first and foremost that I can get and send e-mails on while I'm out in the world, I could care less about all the other fancy stuff that is carried on the hand-held wannabe computers in everyone's pockets, although mobile Skype is pretty damn cool.  A phone is a phone to me, if it can carry the signal when I'm away from home, that's all that matters to me.  I'm fancy with my technology at home, not when I'm out and have my attention focused on where it should be, the people around me.

Well, anyhow, as I get down some more to the sounds of Daft Punk and dream of having one of the new Tron suits custom made for me, I'll just quote the Master Control Program (so expertly voiced by David Warner) and say three little words...

End of Line.

Magic

Ok, so we got through last night.  After a post-mortem phone call with Nan and Carl, I sat down and found my zen spot, played a few games on the computer, pulled up a few clips from Video Games Live and found the peace that usually inhabits my world.

Yes, I'm a geek.  There's no other way to put it, but I'm probably one of the most beautiful geeks around...LOL.  I love my technology.  It's part and parcel of who I am and I think with what I know, combined with what I do, it makes for a pretty amazing human being.  So, after a few hours of self-encouragement, I was ok.

During my geekery, a few text messages went back and forth between Raj and I.  Raj is one of my best pals, so after feeling like I had fallen on my face, he was the one guy who I wanted to talk to most.  After all, he's the one who's been insisting most that I get out more, and that I needed to find something to love me back.  He's the proponent of me getting a dog, which I still won't do, but he's quite insistent that I'm very much worth  being given a lot of love.

So, at 2:30 this morning, Raj gave me a call.  I was up, I was tinkering with my work some more and sliding in a level or two of game time.  I told him everything that happened and he just politely told me, "Sher, you're doing it again, you're being too hard on yourself."  Raj and I have had the argument that I'm too hard on myself multiple times.  He insists that there is nothing in the world wrong with me, that I'm beautiful, that my self-inflicted neuroses of being fat and so forth are just quite unnecessary.  In my defense, admitting that I'm fluffy is a sign that I'm aware of my physical appearance.  Raj says that's BS, that I'm beautiful and he doesn't understand why I'm so rough on myself.  Ok, I'll admit that it's habit.  I'm so used to being told I'm not good enough that inevitably I've learned to be self-critical to the point of metaphorically cutting myself down just out of habit before someone else comes and does it for me.

I'm so broken.  LOL.  Anyhow, Raj and I spent an hour arguing back and forth, he says I didn't fail while I am insisting that I did, and what was funny is that he repeated the exact same phrase Nan and Carl told me during my post-mortem with them..."First dates are like an interview."  I sat there going, "NOW they tell me that?"  Oy veh.  I wish I would have known that before hand!  *facepalm*  Does anyone have the dating rulebook so I can study up BEFORE I attempt to fling myself off a cliff?  Ugh.  So horrible to find that out AFTER the fact.  I told Raj, "How the hell was I supposed to know that?  I just talked to him like I talk to you and KP.  He's a guy, what the hell else was I supposed to do?"  More facepalming followed.

Then, Raj and I talked about magic.  I've got one of those personalities that's got a lot of charm.  Raj calls it "my magic," because I can charm just about anyone...but last night, I felt like I had run into the one person in the universe that was immune to it.

Nan made an interesting point to me.  It doesn't matter how much magic I have, sometimes there's just nothing there.  Carl then came in and said, "Dating is like casting a net in the ocean, sometimes you're going to get something, sometimes you won't.  But the important thing is that you put in an effort."  It was sweet to hear my big brother say he was proud of me for trying.  Nan said the same thing, that she was thrilled I actually took initiative and got into the game.  They both know that I'd rather hide out than go out, so we can all collectively sigh and admit, it's a step.

Yeah, but the one thing that's really annoying me is that my magic isn't working like it used to.  I blame it on my fluffiness (I'm not going to get off of that kick until I've lost another 15 pounds, so y'all can just hush).  Ok, maybe I can't blame it on just that.  Ugh, I just need more help.  I need the dating rule book or some poor fool to take me through it step by step so maybe I won't feel like I'm perpetually landing on my face.  I'm scared of landing on my face, there I said it.  Maybe Raj is right, I expect too much from myself and yes, I can be a little too hard on myself sometimes too.  But, I'm a perfectionist.  I like everything in very particular ways.  I want some guy to look at me and be amazed with what he sees, that's not too much to ask, is it?  Maybe I'm as broken as I think I am because I'm thinking about how I used to look instead of looking in the mirror and accepting myself as I am.  But that's not entirely true.  I got ready yesterday, looked in the mirror and said, "Well, if he digs me he does, if he doesn't, he doesn't.  There's nothing I can do about how someone else feels."  It's the Ad/PR thing, I'm a BS artist for a living, but I'm just not buying into my own BS.  *facepalm*

Speaking of magic...the oddest thing is happening outside right now...as I've been writing, the clouds have been gathering and are looking pretty ominous.  It goes to show, when I'm feeling up, the sun shines, the moment I get down, it clouds up.  I'm magic, but I guess I'm just not using it right. LOL.

So here's what I'm going to do.  I'm done beating myself up about it.  I took a risk.  I think Doc Cat would be proud of me for putting myself out there and giving it a try.  So, I'm just going to get over it, smile, look around my apartment, be thrilled with what I have and just move on.  I look at it like this: it was a fresh topic to write on.  On top of that, on the self-help front, this is a valuable lesson, it is one that says, "You've got to keep being hopeful, get in there and keep trying."  The nutritional value of it is that I learned something about myself.

So, in that spirit, I'm going to give myself a big bunch of Gerbera Daisies (my favorite) and smile at the fact those simple flowers are the source of joy.

For the song of the day, let's go to a old favorite, from the album, "Ghost in the Machine," The Police, who are going to remind me that even though I may not feel it all the time, every little thing I do is magic.  I think about it like this, if I've changed as many lives as I have in a positive manner, there's no reason to think I'm not.  Or, going a step to the ludicrous, maybe he got jammed up because my magic did work, he just didn't know what to do with it... lol, oh come on, laugh, that's funny because while highly improbable, it could happen...

*faceplant*

I just walked in the door from my first date in over ten years.  First, let's put the ten years into context.  As we know, I was married to the ex for seven years, I've lived without him for two years and he was the only guy I dated in the year previous to that, so add it up, that's ten years.

Well, I met someone.  He's very handsome.  For me, I think I was batting a little high, but I figured with a bit of confidence I could bat the league.  I learned something from that tonight...

Ok, let's set it up for you.  How I met the guy will remain a little known fact, so don't ask.  But, this afternoon I called him just to say "hi" and I ended up with an invitation to drinks.  Not bad, I nearly had a conniption thinking about actually spending time with someone that good looking, but instead of falling over with a heart attack, I gathered my courage, pressed, dressed, grabbed directions to the place off of Google Maps and headed out the door.  

Now, it doesn't help that Miller's Ale House is hell and gone from my apartment.  It sits squarely in bum f'ed Egypt in comparison to my little hidey-hole in Northwest Vegas.  It takes a half an hour to get there.  Of course what do we know about me?  That no matter how hard I try to be on time, I'm a walking tardy.   I could tell straight away, driving down the road at Mach 2, that the fates had squared off against me.

The place we went to was very neat.  And, lucky for me, and what I didn't know, is that there was a huge UFC fight tonight.  Remember how we just don't go there anymore because the ex used to live and breathe that mixed martial arts stuff?  Yeah, there I was, all sorts overjoyed with having to sit squarely toe-to-toe battling bad memories of my ex while sitting next to a guy that would make even Adonis weep.  At that point I knew I was down for the count, but even so, I wasn't going to go down without a fight.

How often do I talk about eating fish?  Has it even come up in the two years we've been on this journey?  The answer is NO.  But there I sat eating fish tacos.  I have to say, they weren't bad at all.  I rather enjoyed them. However, y'all know me pretty good...I roll with the flow.  So, I sat drinking my usual Malibu Madras and happily snacked on the fish tacos.  

Ok, let's get into the guts of it and why I wanted to smack my head on my steering wheel all the way home screaming at myself, "Way to go Sheri, way to epic fail."  I came away from tonight with a handshake from Adonis, and it wasn't over my eating habits or how I did anything in particular, it was just a case of somewhere along the line things failed.  

As we can pretty much assume, Adonis doesn't smoke, so I sucked it up and lobbed a piece of Nicorette in my mouth.  I wish he knew how much that meant that I was willing to forgo a major serenity inducing cigarette to be able to sit and talk to him.  How often do I compromise on things like that?  Outside of family, I don't deliberately not smoke for ANYONE.   I was already nervous and to be honest, if someone would have walked in with a paint scraper to chisel me off the ceiling from the get-go I would have been better off.   If I would have been able to just relax, I would have done much better.  But there I was, unable to give myself the one thing I needed to get through things in a more serene manner.

So, the drinks start to flow, the fish tacos come and go, and the conversation was going ok, I guess.  I talked about my work, the use of virtual worlds, my need to get out more, you know, all the things I've been covering with y'all for the last two years.  That I was actually sitting there with a gorgeous guy was tantamount to a miracle, and there I am feeling like I'm talking too much and my neuroses took over.

In my defense, Adonis is very quiet, you know, one of those "still waters run deep" kind of guys?  Well, he took part in things, gave as good as he got, and was a real gentleman about the whole thing.  However, he didn't give me much to work with, so I honestly didn't have clue one of what to do.

Then, after sitting there for four hours, he walked me to my car.  We didn't even get all the way to it.  Half way, I got a polite handshake and an "I'll be in touch with you next week."  After I heard that, I could hear my face hitting the pavement so hard that I'm surprised I have a nose left.  It left me with the overall impression that I had epically failed, that I had batted WAY outside my league and that my fluffy butt has been doing just what it should have done today, stayed at home where it's safe.

I can walk away from today by giving myself the one consolation that has been my saving grace for a while now..."At least I was outside."

Oh gods, he was so beautiful and you could tell if you got him talking he'd be incredible.  I just wanted to break out a spoon and eat him up, but alas, I got a handshake.  As KP would say, "GG," good game.  Forgive me as I take out my contacts and go into my dresser for my Video Games Live t-shirt, then flop face down on my bed for a good, long cry.  

I'm going to take a hopeful approach to the handshake.  I'm going to listen to my inner Tae and my inner Nan and think that he was being kind, gentlemanly, and taking things slowly (which we all know I can totally use).  But I don't know, the body language just wasn't there.  My gut says "good effort, well done, just move on" while my inner romantic keeps hoping he was just being a true gentleman.  Who knows, we'll see if the phone rings.  If it does, I'll be ecstatic, if it doesn't, I won't be surprised.  But like KP and Jim have told me so many times, "Set yourself up to succeed, not to fail," so I'll remain positive and hopeful.  

Oh well, tomorrow is another day.  

*whimper*

I'm going to treat myself to the sweets in my fridge...fresh strawberries and a bit of Hershey's syrup.

As it should be...

As we all know, I forget to eat.  I do.  I'm a bad person for not taking better care of myself, but when I'm working, I totally forget to stop to eat.  So today, I wanted to switch gears and make sure I ate (and had leftovers to spare).

Today was fun, I worked a lot, which is consisting of a LOT of writing about MMOG's, MMOW's, and MMOE's.  Ok, for those of you who aren't into the online world genre, a MMO stands for Massively Multiplayer Online...in which case the "G" stands for game, the "W" stands for world, and the "E" stands for environment.  It's a lot of technical mumbo-jumbo, so just be glad I'm in my own little world having to write about all of it, and trust me, I don't want to go into it any more than that because I'll barf if I talk about it anymore today.  Think about it this way, when you leave work, do you really want to talk about it more?  Um, that would be NO.

But, after I finally came to a stopping place in my work, I realized that my cupboards were bare and I needed to grocery shop.  So, like a good girl, I had already been compiling my list as I was noticing I was running out of things, so after gussying myself up, I grabbed up my list and hit the door.

I have to say, the one nice thing about living alone is that you don't have to worry about having to grocery shop for more than yourself.  There's no compromising on things you want to eat, things you want in the cupboard as a snack or having to worry about having dinner on the table at a specific time.

As a side note, I have to say one thing, I love living alone because after I went through my apartment with a bulldozer and cleaned it after the spring semester wrapped, it has stayed clean.  I was hopping into the shower this afternoon and I have to say, before when I lived with ye-who-shall-remain-nameless, the shower was always a honkin' mess.  It was always gross and it always seemed to grow mildew without hesitation.  Now, my shower is a pristine haven of  good smells, no mildew, no dirty footprints, it's just so clean!  I love it.   My maintenance man came in on Saturday to change my A/C filter and believe it or not, he looked at me and said, "Wow! Your filter is one of the cleanest I've seen," meaning that the apartment is very clean and pristine.  I was tickled to hear that!

So getting back to grocery shopping, today I walked into the store with my fresh new 'do...(my stylist gave me new blonde highlights on Friday...it looks so good!) and with a few less pounds, I did the aisles. (To answer your question, yes, I've lost 3 more pounds, woot!)

The fun thing about the grocery store today was how many men stopped to look at me.  This is the moment you come home and do the happy dance because you finally feel like you're really starting to shine again after being shoved in the shadows for years.  It felt so good.

After the store, I carried everything up my stairs and unpacked it all, and my cupboards are now full again for relatively cheap. (I shopped very smart, took coupons and only got what I needed, well, except for the bag of Cheetos that are my treat.)  Every time I reached for something on a shelf at the store, I asked myself, "Are you going to eat all of that?" which made sure I purchased only what I would completely consume.  It's amazing when you go to the grocery store and are vigilant about making sure you're not just getting stuff to fill the cupboard and you're vigilant about making sure you eat everything you buy, the grocery bill is a lot cheaper.

No one ever tells you that when you go through marital demise that you have to go back through and make sure that you change your shopping habits too.  That one took me a long time to learn, and finally after two years, I'm not buying the huge package of toilet paper anymore.  (Don't ask, the ex went through more toilet paper than I could ever imagine.) I also finally made sure to get things that I could package separately and be able to defrost one thing at a time instead of a whole package.  I got two steaks (my endocrinologist...weep, more on him later...got on me for not eating more red meat on my last visit with him because my vitamin B was a little low on my last blood test), so I coupled that with a nice selection of meats including a very nice roast to make sure I had plenty of protein in my diet.   I also got something I haven't purchased in over two years, a bag of potatoes.  Ok, just to tell you how huge this is, I usually get my carbs through rice or pasta because I grew up on potatoes.  My mom can make a potato into an origami and I love them, but they're also the antithesis of trying to exchange five pounds of fat for five pounds of muscle.  However, my world famous Smash Potatoes were calling me and with the roast in my shopping basket, yeah, I got potatoes (in which I'm going to do my best to eat them all before they grow roots, but knowing me and my devotion to steamed rice, I'm not sure.)

My diet is really important to me because I'm trying to get myself into a relatively pleasing form again.  I've kept up with my workout diet which consists of lots of protein and a few carbs.  Hey, it's working, 34 pounds are gone and I'm starting to see some physical changes for the better (my pecs are starting to beef up again, we like that, it makes for better buoyancy up top and makes it easier to fight gravity).

But tonight I went into the kitchen and made a roast, smash potatoes and string beans.  So good!  I hadn't had my smash potatoes in sooooo long.  I stuck my finger into the bowl (another perk of living alone) after I had smashed the heck out of them, and put the taste of sublime heaven in my mouth.  I had forgotten how good my potatoes were!  So I sat happily with a full plate and watched The Witches of Eastwick and laughed at the exchange between Alex (played by Cher) and Daryl (played by Jack Nicholson):

Alexandra Medford: Are you married?
Daryl Van Horne: Good question! You see, brains! The answer is no, I don't believe in it. Good for the man, lousy for the woman. She dies, she suffocates. I've seen it! And then the husband runs around complaining to everyone that he's f*'ing a dead person, and he's the one who killed her! [bursts into laughter]  Where's your husband?
Alexandra Medford: Dead.
Daryl Van Horne:  Well, sorry, but you're one of the lucky ones.  When a woman unloads a husband or a husband unloads a woman, however it happens...  Death. Desertion. Divorce.  The three "D's", when that happens, a woman blooms, she blossoms...

Whoever wrote those lines has been married, and personally, it sounds like a woman wrote it, because that is the BEST way I can describe what's happened to me.  I died the day I said, "I do."  Hell, I wish I would have followed my gut instinct and booked it out of the courthouse in Montreal without putting my head into the noose.  But alas, I wouldn't be able to talk about how wonderful it is to grocery shop for myself, make myself a fantastic meal, or sit back and laugh at the whole mess without going through it first.

But I have to say, things are going well, my job is great, I've done all of my maintenance (hair, nails, waxing) and grocery shopped twice and I'm doing it on my own.  Forgive me for being proud of myself, but remember way back when I told Doc Cat that one of my life goals was to live successfully on my own?  Well, I'm doing it and I couldn't be happier.

Ok, now let's follow up about my endocrinologist.  Oh weep, I'm so upset about this... As we know, I've broken more ties to my ex.  I've got my own heath insurance now, and well, with my new plan, I couldn't keep my endocrinologist of the last six years.  I have to change doctors.  My endo was such a great guy and he was my psychiatrist pre-Doc Cat and he was there before and after the bomb dropped and the ex left.  He's also the guy who's given me guidance on how to shed the 34 pounds I've lost.  So last Tuesday was my last visit with him before I get my new doctor.  I'm sure I'll fill you guys in when I go to see the new one.  But much less to say, I'm quite sad I lost my favorite endocrinologist.

The upside is that my new insurance has me going to a different lab for my blood tests.  Hashimoto's Thyroiditis is a pain because every three to four months I have to get blood drawn to check my TSH and T4 levels along with an occasional vitamin check.  Remember, the auto-immune disease creates more white blood cells (they're attacking my thyroid, remember?) and if my meds are working, it keeps them under control and the cell count correct.  Well, the new lab I have to go to is wonderful.  There is a large lab in town that most providers use and it's always a mad house with screaming kids, long lines and whathaveyou.  Well, my new lab was a different story.  When I walked in, the waiting room was empty and it was beautiful.  I signed in, handed over my insurance card, got the blood drawn and was in and out of there in about five minutes.  If that's a sign of what my new insurance is going to be giving me, I'm looking forward to seeing my new endocrinologist.

But, between new blonde highlights, a great job, full cupboards and the trimmings of living life as a success, I can't believe this is happening to me.  I guess Daryl was right...when you go through one of the three D's, you bloom, blossom and really get some traction.

Right now, my dishwasher is running, my groceries are put away and I have a beautiful bowl of fresh grapes on my desk to refresh my palate.  My glass is full, my apartment is clean and I guess this is the moment where you say, "Everything is as it should be."

But I'm still sitting back and thinking I'd like to have a special guy to share this with...I guess it goes with the movie I watched tonight over dinner:

Alexandra Medford: I don't think that men are the answer to everything.
Sukie Ridgemont: No.
Jane Spofford: Then why do we always end up talking about them?

Jane, it's the "can't live with them, can't live without them" thing.

 

In the land of the living...

Sometimes I wonder how I made it through the last ten years. I can effectively say that during those ten years I was a walking corpse, just simply existing, and I have no idea how I got through it up to now. I guess that's why I call the time I was married, "The Coma" or "The Sleep" because I don't remember half of it and I think it's best left that way.

For a long time, I think, no, I know that I had given up on myself. I had lost the will to live an exciting life. I remember a long time ago writing about the Chinese curse, "May you live in interesting times," and I remember writing:

That's a curse? When things are interesting, whether it's drama, or a new lover, or a bad breakup, at least you're reminded you are alive. It's all in remembering that you are a living, breathing human being that is taking part in the world and born to make a difference. In the back of your mind, when you know you're alive, and even though things may not be the smoothest in the world, at least it's worth waking up for so you can see what happens next! If you want a real curse, "May you get married and your life be boring as all hell." THAT is a curse. At least, living in interesting times will make sure that your brain doesn't rot from boredom or lack of stimulation.

I'm a girl who used to thump my copy of Auntie Mame by Patrick Dennis, screaming at the top of my lungs, "Live! Live! Live! Life's a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death!" But somewhere along the way, I forgot what it was like to do that.

Back in the day, after I would get off work from the aquarium, I would get myself dolled up and ready to head out to Spago for an evening of decadence. Hey, it's never a bad thing when you're in your 20's and you can go eat wienerschnizel and drink Riesling after you pick yourself up a new watch at the Swatch store and walk into the restaurant waving it and saying "Fresh kill" in regards to it, like you've gone on safari and bagged a trophy animal. To me, that was living. It was going out, interacting with the world and being a part of it, drinking in every moment like it would be my last. Today, I can effectively say I've been inspired to get off of the bench and full-on back into the game.

Ok, so why this today? I got paid. My first real pay day in over 10 years. Yes, I've had contract work here and there, but nothing on the scope of what I do now. An actual paycheck where I got to pay all of my bills out of my own checking account, that I could go to the grocery store and pick up whatever I wanted (but remembered to stay frugal) and still have money left in my pocket after all of it, enough to pay next month's rent and then some. I'm tempted to cry, but to be honest, I'd rather do a happy dance because I'm headed in the right direction.

Now, on to the more "interesting" parts that parallel my new job, and it's been two weeks since I've last dug into what's happening with me so I figure it's time to write about it. Here it is: along with the new job, I've also been going out and hanging out with someone not blood related to me. Go ahead, do the shocked face, I've been going out with a guy! Ok, not in that way, but a friend. It's not dating, much to my chagrin, but it's ok, it's someone I know well and who I trust.

As we all know, I have a love of men with long hair. Yep, that's me, I'm a true hedonist, I want a wild looking man if I'm going to come out of my coma completely. Call it a recovery step if you wish, but it's one of those things, I found a friend of mine that I've not seen in 15 years and reconnected with him, long blonde hair, luscious body and all.  He's got this amazing smile, contagious laughter and is just an all-around joy to share time with.  Of course, it's not a relationship thing, but it is someone who is completely gorgeous that I can go and hang out with who knows me really well and it's someone I can have fun with on a weekly basis. Best thing of all, he makes me smile when I'm not teasing him about being messy, never growing up and my usual admonishments for his torn jeans and my grimacing at all of the muscle cars he's purchased to restore hanging out in front of his house and on the land in the back of his house. I'm just going to right away give him a moniker, he's Mr. Blonde and he deserves some lip service because he's the one who taught me the phrase, "Everyone doesn't need to know everything," and who put me on the road to being really good in PR, because he was the one who taught me how to judge the moments where something should be said combined with knowing what needs to be said, what doesn't, and having the common sense to know when to divulge details. He's my poker-face zen master.

That said, I think you need to know the back-story of why he's such a great influence at the moment. Like he taught me all those years ago, I won't give you all the details, but I'll give you the parts that are important and are within the boundaries of what is good to share with an audience.

15 years ago, Mr. Blonde and I used to work at a nightclub together. I would be doing my job, wearing my Doc Martens, club clothes and dancing on top of "The Bamboo Bar," (effectively doing eight hours of cardio a night dancing to house music as one of the club's house dancers in the Diversities department) and he would be across the way at his bar, serving drinks. When I'd get up and dance to a song he'd love or it meant something between the two of us, I'd see him across the way, with no shirt on, blowing his whistle and throwing a ton of napkins in the air, grabbing body parts and cheering me on, effectively telling me how much he loved watching me.  It was always so cute because he'd let me know at distance how much he loved me or how beautiful I looked.  We dated for almost three years.  When it came time for us to break up, he looked at me and said, "I can't tie you to a relationship with me. The world is a huge place and you need to get out and have experiences. You won't have those if you stay with me. You're destined for great things and I can't bring myself to deny you anything." Now if that isn't a great break-up line, I don't know what is. Sure enough, 15 years later, it's just as he predicted, I had to get some experiences under my belt and I'm much more interesting as a result.

Of course, this does represent some issues. Mr. Blonde is still the same person he was 15 years ago. He's still messy, he's still unkempt and he's still refusing to grow up. In the mean time, I've grown up and now instead of the clunky unrefined twenty-something he used to know, I'm now a full-on educated thirty-something with grand aspirations.  I've gone from a nightclub house dancer to becoming a fairly high-paid executive with a lot of responsibilities.  Here's where it gets funny. In the last 15 years, Mr. Blonde has gone from sharing a house with four roommates to owning a bar and a nice chunk of land complete with three horses, four birds and six dogs. And I thought I had come from nothing to something...um no. He tops me 100 times over, he just refuses to show what he has; he's a guy who lives a humble life without pridefulness. You know me, that's heady stuff because that's exactly what I'm trying to get to, albeit a bit cleaner than him and with less animals.

While we were at dinner on Tuesday, I tried to ask him how he came into owning a bar and he wouldn't answer me. What's worse is that he's restoring a 1963 split-window Corvette, a 1968 Super Bee (which is apparently the predecessor to the Dodge Charger now), and a myriad of old American muscle cars. When I asked him how much the Corvette will be worth when he's finished restoring it, he didn't even flinch, he just looked at me, shrugged and said, "Oh, about $100,000." My jaw dropped onto the table. Back in the day, I watched him restore an old 1970 Pontiac GTO which he painted "Fly Yellow" and restored it to pristine condition, it ran like a dream. But that's Mr. Blonde's thing, he loves American muscle cars. When he heard my Prius, he exclaimed, "But it doesn't make any noise," not surprising that he's amazed with my hybrid beauty when he's restoring gas guzzling smog monsters. But with all of our differences like my love Spago, new Swatches, Creme Brulee and my education, he's in love with three things, American muscle cars, being a bartender and never growing up, we do still have some things in common. What we have in common is that simply, having money means that you can get yourself what you need, it's not Carte Blanche to go crazy with it. If we have a pocketful of money, it doesn't mean that we change, we stay frugal. If I've learned anything in the last 10 years, it's how to be frugal and buy only what I need in which he and I both agree on.

I remember after Mr. Blonde and I broke up, I went through the process of getting into the Spago scene and doing what he told me I should be doing, which was going out, living and having interesting experiences. 15 years later, and I'm educated, love to read and I'm always about making sure I reach a high plane, and he's still very down to earth, could care less about being educated and doesn't like to read. Diametrically opposed doesn't cover this friendship. Back in the day, he protected me, cared for me and really looked after me when no one else would, I was a very lost soul that he valiantly tried to place on the right path. It took a while, but everything he wanted for me, I went out and did for myself. Funny part, he looked at me on Tuesday and told me that bar-none I was one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen in his life and he just loves spending time with me just to look at me, that I'm definitely not the same girl he knew 15 years ago and that I'm a little more snooty than I used to be, but he enjoys hearing about my work, my bizarre life in cyberspace and just being able to hang out with someone who has had similar life experiences and accepts him for who he is, nothing more, nothing less.

I can handle that.

The thing is, the door swings both ways on that. I mean this guy is some SERIOUS eye-candy. The long blonde hair is great, I love it. Back in the day when we worked at a nightclub together, we had a race going to get our hair to grow out, always seeing who's was longer, and he always won; now my hair is longer than his, and mine is more fluid and really beautiful compared to back in the day. I guess you can say I came into my own and he really is digging on that. However, the one knee-weakening item on Mr. Blonde is his blue eyes. Oh, no, you just don't know...he's got these amazing ocean blue eyes. Whew! It's enough to make any girl bend her knee inwards and go, "Um, hi..." Worse yet is that he's almost the exact description of Kyrian of Thrace from Sherrilyn Kenyon's Dark Hunters, he may only be six feet tall and 170 pounds on a good day, but...oy veh, he's still HOT.

However, he's just a pal now. Ok, you know what, we ALL could do with friends like that. He's funny, sexy (very sexy), and charismatic. He's one of those guys who's few words speak volumes. But, I have to say, I love it when he calls and says, "What'cha doin'" in his very thick mid-western accent and asks me what I want to do this week. Whether it be just hanging out and watching Animal Planet together or going to dinner or just sitting and visiting on the phone, it's nice to have a pal who calls me to hang out and enjoys being around me just for being me. It doesn't matter to him that I'm 144 pounds, he laughs when I call myself "fluffy," laughing and saying, "No you're not, you're beautiful." He doesn't judge, he's just him and I think that's what makes him so great.  We may be really different in a lot of ways, but it's just nice to have someone to call when I need a hug who will, without hesitation, give me one.  It's just like back in the day, he can't bring himself to deny me anything and I can tell he still loves me after all these years, but it's more about loving a platonic friend than a romantic interest, which is just fine with me.

The best part of it all was when I relayed the fact that being around him was really the first time in 10 years I've been around someone socially outside of my family.  I told him that I didn't know how to be around people any more and he looked at me and said flatly, "You don't have anything to worry about around me, I'll help you get used to being out again."  I nearly cried when I heard that, it seems like he's always been coming to my rescue in one way or another.

Ok, details aside, here are the brass tacks.  I'm going outside.  I'm hanging out with people.  I'm getting paid for doing my dream job.  I mean, OMG!  AND I've got a long blonde haired hottie who's calling me beautiful...can this get any better?

Damn, being patient is one thing, and it truly is a virtue, but when everything starts to hum along just like puzzle pieces finally all fitting together, it gets a bit spooky.  I keep waiting for the bottom to fall out, but until it does, OMG, I'm going to enjoy this.

So, for the song of the day, one for Mr. Blonde who reminds me in a small way of Eddie Van Halen back in the day...but the simple facts are that he can do to a car body what Eddie can do with a guitar...something amazing.