Sunday, October 11, 2009

Positive Thinking=Engagement in a Year?

So, tonight I am in a lonely Sunday night funk and am driving home from Fresh Market to eat yet ANOTHER frozen pizza and possibly drink the whole bottle of cheap French wine ($6.99) when I hear this peaceful sounding lady on my regular NPR station. She sounds so much like Delilah that I hit the SCAN button and then pause. Wait. This is NPR. Surely, whomever they are broadcasting despite the subject, should be something worth listening to.

I hear her tell this heart-felt story of being in one failed relationship after another, and on her 41st birthday, vowing to be engaged by the age of 42. A roll of the eyes immediately from me, and then I stop. Wait. Isn't this kind of like the yellow Post-It that I put on my mirror that stated my wants and needs, for example: getting out of Redneck Roanoke and living among friends and making more bank? Didn't I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and wish on these thoughts every day until it happened?

So, I go back to 89.1. I listen for a few minutes on this woman talk about starting to date guys that are available and how eventually the gods grant her wish of being engaged by her forty-second year of her life. She was promoting daily meditation and uncomfortable self-reflection.

Although my first reaction was to label her as another woman trying to complete her almost perfect life with a man, I stopped when I heard her speak of self-reflection. Thank god I am not the only one out there trying day after day to self-reflect!! And, thank god that there is someone out there that admits that it is the most uncomfortable feeling in the world, but in turn will get you engaged in a year.

My stomach was growling, so of course I didn't hear the end of the story or this lady's name, and even though I would never admit to praying to be engaged in a year, I respect her. After another long weekend of doing exactly what I want and being tired of myself by Sunday afternoon, if I admit it, maybe this is what I am praying for too.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

All Men are Liars

Two days ago, I'm cleaning out my apartment to find anything and everything that I could possibly find to sale at my garage sale that I had today. How ironic that I would find a CD that was left in my mailbox from my then recent Ex-Boyfriend who was finally returning something of mine that only took him, oh I don't know, like three months. Included in the package was a CD of famous Mississippi blues artists because he "saw it in a store and thought of me." The title of the CD? "All Men Are Liars". Well folks, there you have it. The question posed in my last blog has been answered.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

DUMPED by a 23 year old

23 year old: "Hello."
Erin: "Hi, just wanted to tell you that I got the job in DC and will be moving there this month! Isn't it funny that you just moved back to the burbs of DC (even if you did move back in with your mother) and now I just landed this really important job only a few metro stops away?"
23 year old: "I have to tell you something... (Erin: stomach dropping)..I met someone."
Erin: "Really?! That's great!"
By "GREAT" I meant, WHAT THE F!" But, I remained calm and said, "Well, the last time we talked I asked you if you were dating someone and you said NO." 23 year old response: "I know. I'm sorry."
Sorry? Sorry! You know, I really haven't had much time to process this, and I'm thinking that it was probably just a knee jerk reaction to my out of the blue question, but really? Isn't it a bad thing if your knee jerk reaction is to lie? And why do I tend to think these guys are the most innocent honest things? I mean, I didn't think that he had a lying bone in his HOT body. Am I really that naive? I can preach all day to my friends and refer them to page 62 of "Conscious Dating" but apparently, I can't even spot the lying ones.
Well, to be totally honest, my gut spots them. It had been nagging at me for about a month now that something seemed odd, but instead of taking a hard look at the facts of the situation, I went fishing. I shamelessly started hitting on him over the phone to see how he would react. Like, "Remember that time when we started making out in my car on a warm sunny Saturday..." I thought I had gotten my answer when he was like, "Oh yeah I do. What are you doing in two weeks?" I should have known it was going down hill when a few days before the planned visit he said he had like five dollars in his bank account and couldn't make our rendezvous workout. Let's be clear: we ARE in a recession. Having faced financial difficulties myself, I do not hate on anyone whose roll might be a bit thin. However, this is not going to stop me from spending that last 5 bucks on a tank of gas to spend a weekend of bliss that will last you for at least a month, if you know what I mean.
HELLO ERIN! RED FLAG #32! I'm just like Jane. I completely lose all sense of practical thought when you throw a 23 year old in the picture. Especially one that I picked up on the dance floor after a few vodka tonics. I know what you are thinking, and OK. I admit it. I may have picked up every other guy this way, but HELLO! I started a dating blog. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf and you are not helping. HELP!

Sunday, September 13, 2009

True Love

On Friday I received a voicemail from my dear friend and life mentor, Carver. I was encouraged by his encouragement to keep writing; however, I have taken a break to ponder his comment after that. Take a few deep breaths, relax, let things happen. Yes, Carver and I met in a Yoga class. So, after my first date as a result of this blog, I am doing just that. Pondering. Less than twelve hours later I bought the audio book titled True Love by, um, OK, some Buddhist monk whose name I cannot recall. All the way back from Asheville, I tried to breath in and breath out and memorize his mantras. They seem so simple. "I am hurting, can you help me?" Or something like that. Profound, yet seems so simple. I am now going to replay the chapter on listening. Apparently, I was thinking about my date which failed to promise true love instead of vowing to truly listen to his words. So, Carver: I promise to at least TRY to calm down. Just like you suggested: today I am lounging with the cat being thankful that I am not staring at someone across the table with gravy running down their mouth. Maybe you should start a blog.

Thursday, September 10, 2009


Oh the loneliness. The loneliness for the single lady (not the one Beyonce sings about) comes at night time. For me around 11:00PM, which happens to be about the same time my cat comes alive and starts talking to me for the first time of the entire day. I recently upgraded to an iphone and now use it as my security blanket to not feel so alone at bedtime. OK, one last check of the email. How do I do this again? Right, touch the mail button. Oh, there are three new emails! One from Obama, get those everyday. One from expedia, one from...ooohhhh. Can this be my new beau? After finally decoding the signals, I get the email to come up and start laughing so hard at his email that I drop the phone. When I pick it up again, it's gone. Where's his email? What? Calm down. Don't panic. You use gmail. Gmail doesn't delete. It doesn't have to. It stores everything you've ever sent into a secret place in space. Not so on the iphone. Oh no. There is a garbage can that looks like the one Oscar from Sesame Street used to live in. Plug in the computer. NOT THERE. How does this happen to me? How can I delete the first email from my first ever dating blog site? Why can't I just be cool? Come on Erin. You can do it. Think. Yes! There has to be a trash folder. Wait-there it is! It isn't lost! Love is once again a possibility! But I still have my pride. Pop the Ambien, try to forget about it, and not respond until the next day. Honestly, I am exhausted and have a headache and my cat wants me to keep throwing his toy so he can fetch it, but...yeah. I'm playing it cool. I can still hear the voice in my head of my girlfriends when we were 22. "What? He called you? That's great!" "I know. I'm about to call him back." "No, you can't do that. Wait until tomorrow." "Really, but I like him and he CALLED ME." "No. you have to wait." I'm 29 and feel worlds away from 22. Now, can we finally just stop the bullshit. It's exhausting me and I have to go now. My pizza is burning.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Jane Eyre: Chapter XVII

After Jane has not seen Mr. Rochester for ten days and has heard from Mrs. Fairfax that he might not show his face again at Thornfield for a year, Charlotte Bronte writes, "When I heard this I was beginning to feel a strange chill and failing at the heart. I was actually permitting myself to experience a sickening sense of disappointment; but rallying my wits, and recollecting my principles, I at once called my sensations to order; and it was wonderful how I got over the temporary blunder-how I cleared up the mistake of supposing Mr. Rochester's movements a matter in which I had any cause to take a vital interest."

Oh Jane. Don't fool yourself! Since you are so young in this chapter, I will give you a break and let you believe that one letter from that man wouldn't thrill your heart. Today, only two days after creating my new blog, I happily report my first prospect. And, no matter how cool I try to play it, I have to say that when I read my friend Beth's email, I was a bit excited. Oh yeah. That's me in the photo not looking excited. Deep breaths, we are all adults here. Check those insecurities at the state line and drive on through honey!

Interested? Stay tuned for the updates. Unlike the Bachelorette, you do not have to wait a week to see what will happen. After my two hour webinar on blogging today, (for work! Dear God-please make me a writer so I can fly far far away from here!) I learned that in order to get more buzz for my blog, I must update often. I vow to attempt to post at least a sentence daily.

Oh, and thanks to all of you who have sent a high five my way. Some of you, on the other hand, who have responded by, "that was an interesting few paragraphs you wrote last night" or "you have finally lost it" obviously needs to read up on here for a few giggles and a look into my true soul.

LOL! That was meant to be funny! Ok, I realize there are only a select few who get it. If you are one of those: stay tuned.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Love in a Spin Class?

Ok, yes. I know that I work in a "gym", but my job is not jumping around all day on the fitness equipment. (With the corporate wellness boom, I don't understand why people still refer to me as only a Personal Trainer or Aerobics Instructor). Anyway, my point is: I still need a place to work out. A place to go where all of my stress is burned right out of me. A place like spin class at the local Y. I go in and take a bike in the back. I try to keep a low profile when attending any fitness classes, especially cycling. I just never feel right. I can't get my seat right, the handle bars, the clips. It is just so overwhelming and I'm off the bike, on the bike, readjusting every second. No wonder my experience on a moving bike has not been so successful either. Ok, the music is starting. Finally. Hopefully this perky looking thing has some hard core rap on her mix so I can get all of this funk out of my system. Warm-up started with some Creed sounding band. Maybe it was Creed. Then, while I am trying to visualize the stress flowing out of me with every stroke of the pedal, she starts talking. "Woo! Oh, yea! We gotta start getting in shape for next summer already, right? Woo! That's it. Take it up to gear 13. Oh yea! Now, third position: arms forward, butt back. Come on." I'm sorry, but I am used to hearing the arms forward butt back instructions during different circumstances. Then some band comes on that she says is called Goo Roo Josh Project. Josh, no Joe, no Jack. Ok, thank God only 20 more minutes to go. That means only four bad songs. Fast forward to the last song Chasing that the song or the band? Finally, the cool down! Oh no. Love is a Battlefield? Does that Jordan girl sing that? Then the instructor comments, "What does this teeny bopper song mean anyway. I don't know what it means, but it's a good song." What? Obviously you've never had your heart broken little missy. If so, maybe you would pick some better music. At least there were some people my age in the class, and if I wouldn't have snuck right out of there, I may could have met the one. See what I mean about dating these days? For those of you PlusOnes, It is more difficult than you think.