Ramblings..

Time marches on, doesn't it? One day bleeds into the next and if we're not careful we forget to pay attention to all those little things that make us who we are. It's been a month since my last post, and it's not that I have been lax inasmuch as I have been busy paying attention to the minutia of my days. 

What have I done, and where have I been? Well, there was the young guy - 10 years my junior and I have to say he was fun.. for a bit. One more of the walking wounded and as it turned out, he was in need of a caretaker. I'm pretty sure I'm not it. When asked by his other friends to make sure he made it home safe, I knew time was running out. My nurturing gene is sadly lacking. I can rustle it out of retirement for young children and old folks, but not middle aged men. Driving drunks home and tucking them into bed (and out of my capris) is not my idea of a good time. Yep - you read that right. One night he got up after we were in bed and put on my pants.. not long after, I decided to go home to my own bed and couldn't find them. Prying them off his passed-out body is never going to be my idea of a good time. I suppose I should take solace in the fact that he was not in my underwear!! And no, I have not seen him since then. Some things are just too telling.

Another thing I have done is dropped off the online dating sites. When the same men are still there for years and years and the lines are all the same, it is time for a break. The faces change, the needs don't. I swear, a lot of men see online dating as a call-girl service for the price of dinner. And when did phone sex get so popular?? Has it always been? Cell phones are a wonderful thing - you can make long distance calls that are not 900 numbers and call it a 'get to know you' call while getting off... of course this can work both ways and I am not adverse to such carrying-ons now and again.. but really? How long can one do this without feeling empty? There is something to be said about a shared wet spot. Really.

Giving up all hope for sanity, I agreed to a set-up by a friend. Now, I have to say I have lost some faith in friends for this in the past.. after all, if you really know me, you have to know there are some men that will always get a FAIL when set up with me.. I am who I am and the right man is not going to change that---ever. At any rate, The Analyst is from Colorado and has a mad-professor sort of look to him, and no - not the Gilligan's island guy. More like Robyn Williams with white hair in disarray and a beard. Looking at him from afar, I am amused and curious.. but would I have picked him out of a room and said "That's the one!"? Probably not. That said, he is interesting.. very interesting and not at all what his cover suggests. I do like a man who is a bit of an enigma, so this is working out quite well for now. We have dinner, conversations, see bad movies together, and somehow keep our sense of humor and fun intact. Maybe I am just better with men from out of state...

I have come to the conclusion that I am not and have never been a good wife. I am a good mother, and excellent lover (if I do say so myself - and I just did!), but a wife? Not so much. And, you know, that seems to be ok for everyone except for the men who want to make me into one - a woman acting in a specified capacity. I have never really defined myself in any specific terms and have always defied anyone else that attempts to do so; it is no wonder I fail at that. I am not a role player except in the bedroom (ok, maybe the kitchen and living room - but only when sex is on the table) and then only when we both agree to such fun. And you know, I'm ok with all that too.

Until next time, and as always...

A. Tan Gledmess...