Would You Settle for Catsup?

Post begun on 2/26/09 and touched up on 1/16/10. Nice to see my life has roughly the same pace as a soap opera. :-)

Back again to rummage through the question: What could a 33-yr-old and a 20 yr-old POSSIBLY have in common. And there we shall begin: I have always been a chicken-shit when it comes to men. Didn't want to get duped and hurt and/or end up pregnant and broke. And since 98% of romantic relationships I was exposed to while coming of age was negative, I've spent most of my life secretly pining for some hero to take me far away from myself so that I could fall in love, while outwardly eschewing all things romantic. Which is how I ended up with my first bf at the age of 25, and my second bf at the age of 33. (What? It takes at least 3 years to get over a 4 and half year relationship, doesn't it?!) But here are the main reasons why I think the age thing isn't a dealbreaker for me and my honey:

My dating experience is about on par with a sophomore in college. My ex is like the equivalent of your first love who you dated all throughout high school, but you just knew that as soon as you got out of that little shitfinklestein town you were going to ditch that dead weight, spread your wings and FLY! So dating someone who also has limited dating experience levels out that playing field.
He's not jaded. All the guys my age have this "I've been hurt before so you're not getting to much of me to dick with." kind of mentality. And I hate that. The tug of war b/w two people, each not willing or wanting to get too attached lest they play "the fool". I have the kind of heart that, for the most part, can take that leap and commit to loving someone. Who desperately wants to nurture and learn about another individual so that I can take care of their needs. I like that. Which is why I'm such a mean bitch at the forefront; I can fall, and I fall hard. And he's the same. (Uh..except he wasn't a tool at the forefront, I just mean that he's open to commitment.)

He's effin' smart! He is fascinated with physics, and technology, and mechanics. Shit I know little about, but can listen to for hours and hours. And I like the way he looks at the world. Since he grew up more or less an introverted , (yes, I'll drop the "n-word"), nerd, he's a deep thinker, and can describe things to me in such a way that it holds fascination for me to note how differently we look at the world. But I get it, and I respect his view. Also, he's studying to be a mechanical engineer, so yes- he's a catch.
He wants kids w/in the next 5-7 years! He doesn't already have them! WOW, how novel!
There's nothing wrong with coming home and having someone to be there to ask you about your day, and share with you how they are and who they are. That's been nice, and whenever I get very down at the prospect of this ever actually really happening for us (one in a million shot, I know), I think to myself: "You have a good guy to talk to. It lifts your spirits to have this person in your life (for the most part), it gives you incentive to want to improve yourself mentally and physically, and you're finding out so much shit about what a nutty, distrustful girlfriend you are. And instead of leaving your ass, he is willing to work through it with you!" So although a part of me is screaming "Are you fucking KIDDING ME?! You're 33 and you're wasting time on some kid from Ohio?" I remind myself that I'd need to drop at least two sizes to even put myself out there as dateable, so it's not like I'm missing out, and I'm finding out enough about myself to make this worthwhile.

NOW, having stuffed unicorns and sunshine all up your ass, let's get the reality of dating a man in his early 20's. Sometimes I'd swear his feelings are made of glass (actually, more like the fake glass you see in movies ), and I feel sooo horrible when I forget that and say stupid shit, which I am wont to do. It's just that, there are certain things that a man in his early 30's knows about himself as irrefutable truths; you know if you're the type of person that is going to stay and fight for the seven cents you were overcharged at the store, then you may wear the label "cheap" as a badge of honor. But woe is the day you utter the following to someone who is not quite so self-enlightened: "I don't care if you THINK you're not cheap, that $3.00 tip on a meal for two is freakin' CHEAP!". I agree, not a nice thing to say but the whole defensive thing just puts me right out! The road leading up to me saying the afore-mentioned phrase was paved with all KINDS of bs that I just couldn't take anymore. And while to many couples who have passed through their early 20's will think that those kinds of disagreements are just par for course, I'll say that a jab like that to a 21-year-old man is much more cumbersome to get to the other side of. I suspect that I'd be doing less consoling about inadequate feelings of self worth, and other things you concern yourself with when you're still developing your sense of self, if I were dating a man closer to my age.

Oh, and I forgot to mention all the steamy, fervent hot sex, right? WRONG! 1. When he came to visit for the first time, things were...awkward. Now he's been in Texas for about 6 months and things can sometimes still be....awkward. Remember that whole "Introverted nerd" thing that was so fascinating in conversation? Turns out those guys don't get a lot of tail and routinely turn to the internet to learn about the ways of doing the sexytimes. And as some of us know, there are many, many, many, many, MANY different ways people like to get off. Personally, I like kissing. I like most all of the stuff you can see on any good rated 'R' chickflick or Skinemax. And though I have a few kinks-oh whatevs internets, you do too!- I would say that I am by and large a fairly vanilla girl. You want a spanking? Yes I can. You want to come on my where? Yes, that's ok. "But honey, someone could come around the corner and catch us!" All the better! But I know you'll never find me anywhere near 2Girls1Cup territory. While I've only ever had one longterm partner, so I'm just as maleable as anyone when it comes to most things, I do know what I like. Helping someone find out what they like is a tough job. There are failures. Finding yourself comforting the person you love who has begun to sob uncontrollably while in handcuffs is NOT a fun place for me to be. (Is it part of the act? What do I do now?) And some fantasies are just that- thoughts that could never exist in real life. If Laura Croft's animated proportions were somehow duplicated in the real world, physics would demand either a spine replacement every 3 months, or this bitch would be laid up, eating frosting out of the jar and showing up on Jerry Springer via satellite. Similarly, showering together where one person is always freezing cold, or worse yet, I swear to God I now know what people who have been waterboarded go through. I've given away too much all ready so let's just say kneeling in the shower while looking up is just fucking stupid. And so it goes.

The obvious one, that I've already touched on here but sometimes feels as though this fear in me is growing, is that I'm preparing someone for a journey where I cannot go. Like I'm his support to try all kinds of new experiences (new job, new university, vacations and romance), but at the end of it all he's going to surpass me and realize that while I was great for what he needed as a young man, he'll want something different later on. Or what happens when a 26-year-old Joe looks at me and says "I want to do what I want to do, not what's good for us." I felt that way most all of my life and so I couldn't make THAT big a case for not letting him go. Truth is, what stops ANY man who has been in a relationship for many years from doing that? While I recognize that I'm stretching the odds, I just cannot turn away from one of the best gifts God has ever given me: A good man who loves me. And in the absurdly optimistic words of Vivian Ward: "But I'm here now!"

Catch Up, Baby Tomato, Catch UP!

Last time I tried to post I spent half an hour baring all sorts of neurosis and laying them out in such a way that it perfectly encapsulated many of the items I need to work through in order to achieve more in my life. It was difficult to face, but I was proud of my ability to identify and narrate these seemingly innocuous things I'd tucked away into the recesses of my mind which were causing me to make bad decisions. And THEN I held the backspace key down too long and the entire thing was gone. Poof! I was in shock. Then sad. Then livid. Then sad again. Then infuriated. And finally, I was beaten. And so, I haven't been here much. But there have been a few things going on that should be written down, if only to serve as a means for me to take a step back and figure out the answer to the eternally burning question: "Just what the fuck am I DOING here, anyway?" And thus it shall begin. And hopefully it won't get all pathetic and Lilith-fair (not JUDGING, just saying....) which is how all the posts seemed to get towards the end there last time I tried to keep up with blogging.

Where to begin.... "I was born. I grew UP-pah" (What movie is that from!?) :-) Nahhh, just that I did end up moving back to my tiny hometown b/c I couldn't rent out the house before the former tenants' lease ended. And now I'm thinking I should have just gotten behind on all that mortgage shit, but how was I to know that a helping hand was just around the corner? I saved and sacrificed, am current w/my house payments and so as a reward I get NADA. What about the break for people who didn't overextend themselves and kept their shit together, huh? Sighhh...just like kindergarten, the unseen little girl w/the home haircut. No reason to pay any attention to her at all. But seriously, I did vote for Obama, I am sticking by that decision, and I just pray that the laws being made are going to help the US get back in black, and once again be a place I can be proud to call my country. (Electing the first black president was definitely a step in the right direction.)

So being back in Seguin has been...well, it's been Seguin. On the one hand I LOVE having my own space, my own yard, my privacy and solace. On the other hand, keeping up w/the care of a house can be stressful especially the 3am anxiety attacks. "Is the AC making that noise? OMG, it's broken, I just KNOW it! I'm going to have to go sell my ass every weekend to get a new A.C." Or my new favorite "Was that crack always there? OMG, the foundation is fucked! I have bought a lemon of a house that will one day cave in all around me." As an aside, I can only hope I will be asleep in it at the time because I cannot bear the thought of coming up with money to repair it. Truth be told, I still woke up to 3am-thoughts in my apt, but those were usually along the lines of "Shut the fuck up you drunken slut! I have to work tomorrow and don't give a fuck WHO he got a text from, stop yelling in the parking lot and just pass the fuck OUT already!". But for my money, home ownership is the way to go.

I'm still at my job, and the IRS gig has started again. Yesterday was Ash Wednesday and I'm trying-again-to give up fast food for Lent. Such a weakness I have for it too. Whereas you'd think that most people would prefer home cooking to fast food. When I have someone to cook for, it's not such a big deal, but being alone just makes cooking seem so pointless. You make a meal, you have leftovers, they rot in your fridge and you've just wasted money, time, food, and energy. Yes, the ENERGY it takes to put all those items on list o' things to procrastinate, then feel guilty about. Some examples? Yes, let's!

Must clean kitchen: Yes, but my fave show just came on and I'm saving $ on not paying for DVR service, so I really HAVE to watch it now. *show over, guilt commences*

Must wash dishes: But this mail is just piling up, ooooh is that the new Signals catalog?! I'm going to circle all the things I would buy if I weren't being so responsible with my money. That will stave off the need for me to buy other things, so really I'm helping myself by indulging in the fantasy of buying and not actually doing it. *Places marked up catalog on side of bed along with all other mail mess. Sees it's time for bed, and depression over messy room takes over.*

Must clean refrigerator: I desperately need to start reading again. I am so out of touch w/anything remotely outside of the scope of "How will this effect me." Ah-ha, my cousin gave me this book ages ago, it really is rude of me to keep it so I must begin this post-haste! *Time for bed. Suddenly sees three other books started and not finished. Feelings of being flaky and unaccomplished ensue.*

Suddenly Taco Cabana is starting to sound like a Godsend. And yeah, well, there's all that but it really just boils down to my food addiction. What?! Did I just read that? An admission from Ms. sweep-under-rug-n-smile? Uh-huh. That's a new thing that happened this year too. And it's a good, positive, meaningful realization that will help me get closer to my goal of "getting my shit together" in general. (GMST = out of debt, fulfilling job, someone to share my life with, and not having to shop at Layne Bryant.) But it's really made me assess where it all came from. How this addiction got hard-wired into my psyche, and how to untangle the mess now. (Or re-imaging my mainframe, to continue with the lame-oh, probably incorrectly stated computer analogy.) And oh what a fun time THAT has been! And continues to be!

I've started smoking again. (Oral fixation much?) I've completely stopped cleaning my house (Must ignore SOMETHING if I'm not ignoring my eating issues), and have I ever been spend, spend, SPENDING money I really should be throwing towards my debt. (If I can't placate my emotions with food then I must do so by purchasing DVDs I have no time to watch, and cell phones made with corporate executives in mind.) And so I trudge forward, taking each day as a tiny battle to be won. Or, more often lately, to be lost. But I'm still in this war, dammit! Ha ha! Perhaps one day you will see me on a Discovery Health special being cut from my home and wheeled out on a flatbed semi, a white flag clenched in my doughy fist as my tiny head peeps out from atop my massive body, but that day is not today!

And boys. Oh yeah, I'm supposed to be mature enough to date men now, huh? I think dating "guys" sometime in the 90's passed me by. And, I've had my forays into web dating. I've done Match.com. (Met a funny guy who prefers thin "dancing atop tables and flirting with your friends" women to chunky "conversing is awesome and I'd always put you first" women. (To each his/her own). And I've been on E-Harmony, which was fine except for the seriousness of it all. I want to find "the guy"; I'm not fooling around here, but must this be akin to a nun-ordination ceremony? Can we not take a little ribbing and not think "this woman has issues and needs to tear down me down." Uh, no man, I just REALLY think that socks with sandals is freakin' hilarious. Everyone does, I'm just blunt enough to call you on it- that's all. After 5 conversations, can our e-relationship not stand a tiny bit of teasing? But a co-worker's daughter found a free social website and thought of me, which was a really sweet gesture. And that's how I came to be in a relationship with a man 1,330 miles away, and 13 years my junior. 'Cause I just make good decisions like that, ya'll!

In my defense, not that I have to defend my self to you, interwebs, just that this blog is an exercise in getting all the shit that flits and swirls around my head into one concise block o' crap and this, dear interwebs, is just a part of that process. And yet I think I may defer the gory details for another day. Rest assured we will cover it all. From the sweet nothings and roses all the way to the requests for leather restraints and feathers. Join me next time, won't you?