Monday, May 27, 2013

First impressions

  I tend to not make a good first impression. People seem to get some notion of what I'm like in their head that is very inaccurate. Take my ex-husband-When he first met me, he thought I was rich and listened to Whitney Houston. A former date (NBF) said he ran into a girl I met with about getting an apartment. She instantly did not like me for whatever reason. One of my co-workers said "It's because you're pretty" very matter of fact. I might disagree, but the point is moot. I didn't get the apartment. This girl was complaining about her current roommate. So, NBF said he asked if a girl who "looked like Marilyn Monroe" looked at the apartment. His description, not mine. Not that I would ever hate THAT comparison. Anyway, I hope this is the roommate from hell, because she girl snubbed me for no reason. Girls can be so unfair. I was sweet & courteous. The perfect potential roomie. Her loss.
  I don't know why I give off weird impressions. A lot of people say that thought I would be snobby. Maybe it's my good posture. Perhaps I should slump upon greeting others. I'm always curious as to what anyone's first impression of me was. I recently started seeing someone. I had an absolutely adorable roommate at my old apartment. When I would come home from work, she'd be in the kitchen cooking with her boyfriend. Both so cute together. The day before we all moved out, I came home to find a third person in the kitchen- her handsome brother. He was so excited to meet me, "So, this is the mysterious roommate from the mysterious room.", he said. I assured him I was not mysterious. We started talking & literally talked the whole night (he really distracted me from packing). I think we were just so fascinated by each other. It was very platonic. We're the opposite of each other- he's talk, skinny & Russian. But, underneath our exteriors, it's like we had known each other for years. Instant comfort with each other. So much so, that we talked until we fell asleep on my bed. Gradually, our friendship deepened into something more. Thinking of myself as mysterious is hilarious. I think he's learning how silly I am. His first impression was probably way off, too. But, I'm glad the mystery was there to get his attention. One of the best nights of my life. 


Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Gotta love me!

  Recently, I learned that more than a few people back home in West Virginia are mad at me for not contacting them since I've moved. I'm perplexed by the situation mostly because they're all adults who can just as easily contact me and they haven't. I'm pretty sure I'm only responsible for my son, but maybe I'm wrong. It hasn't been a snobby thing. Honestly, I just haven't thought of a lot of things. We're talking about someone who lost most of their underwear in their most recent move. I don't exactly have it together all the time. So, when I found out that there's been some badmouthing and grumbling, it kind of hurt my feelings. I would never snub anyone. Hell, I make friends with sworn enemies and forgive my mother a million times over. Why would I deliberately not contact someone? Oh, that's right, I wouldn't. Maybe I've got a lot on my mind. I'm living on my own, still relatively new at my job, driving back and forth to WV a couple of times a week. Things tend to slip my mind.
  I saw a relative the other day when I went home to visit. You would have thought I'd murdered someone in the family. My reception was a bit icy. I tried to smooth things over with a hug, but was greeted with "Oh, I should be so honored!". It hurt my feelings a lot. I'm just not on a phone or visit basis with my family. And, it has slipped my mind. I haven't thought to contact any of them other than on Facebook. Pretty much that's what Facebook is for me- keeping in touch with people I otherwise wouldn't see. In my defense, no one has reached out to me, either. I'm pretty easy to find. So, any friends or family that are mad at me- I'm not your mom. You have hands and a mouth; you can communicate just as easily as me. It would be great if when you start to say something bad about me, you instead decide to contact me and tell me how much you miss me. I may screw up a lot, but this isn't on me and it isn't intentional. Forgetting my son's backpack for school? Yes. Intentionally not contacting old friends or family? Not in my blood and you all know it. I'm not even a Fleming anymore and they are more gracious towards me. At least once a week, one of my former sisters-in-law or nieces or nephews will say something friendly or loving via Facebook.
  It could also be that WV is pretty boring and I'm providing some gossip/excitement for others. Well, you're welcome. This must be how a Kardashian feels (minus paying for this publicity). Sadly, I'm one of those people that gets bothered if someone is mad or doesn't like me. I want to please everyone. I should have been a diplomat. I'm bothered that there's any kind of anger directed at me without my doing anything to really deserve it. There's a lot of people I haven't talked to in awhile, but most of them are taking it pretty well. I have diehard friends in Columbus that I haven't seen since I've moved. It doesn't mean I don't love you or care anymore. I just live somewhere else and have other things on my mind. Sometimes all relationships are as tricky as dating relationships. Maybe I'm more like the guys who text back a week or a month after you've contacted them. Possibly, the bro house has worn off on me too much. Come to think of it, I have eaten a lot of pizza and have high-fived excessively in the recent past. In the end, I can't fret over it. I have too many other things on my mind- getting to work without my car breaking down, people trying to steal my identity, how I'm going to exist on my meager earnings, how fabulous it is to kiss handsome Russians, and what is going on in Viggo's world. That's more than enough. Unless you're Viggo, you can contact me as easily as I can contact you. Now, stop being mean. Behave yourselves. Remember how wonderful I am. Smile when you think of me or go jump in a lake.

Monday, May 13, 2013

Me, a Belgian and two bros

  I've finally met all of my roommates. One is Belgian. I get along with him the best. Maybe because we bonded over the lack of hot water in the house our first few days. The other roommates weren't here, yet. Or maybe it's because they seem like normal guys. I've heard the word "bro" thrown around a few times. Everyone is nice, so I'm happy. It's an eclectic mix here. So, it's like "New Girl" except substitute two jocks and a foreigner. I can still fulfill the kooky role like Zooey Deschanel. Right now, one roommate has a friend over & they're playing video games. This friend was a total bro. Muscular, shorts, t-shirt, tennis shoes, Axe body spray. At least I feel safe. Bros can fight if needed.
  I always wonder what impression I'm making. I feel for the Belgian. He's known me a week and has seen me drunk and crying (not at the same time). We went out one night for drinks and to get acquainted. I had three drinks, so he got to have me stagger home, my arm wrapped around his. The crying was when he came to my rescue after my car overheated. We rode back to it with emergency water, me crying all the while. Girls cry in a crisis. It's our Achilles's heel. I didn't want to be crying. But, I was on my way to WV for Mother's day and I'd already had my credit card number stolen earlier in the week. Straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. He was cool and collected the whole time. He just kept saying "We put water in and you go to West Virginia". I lacked his confidence, however, and stayed home on Mother's day. I cried as hard as I did when I first saw Titanic. If you ever want to gauge crying, Titanic usually ranks a ten on a scale of one to ten. Fucking sad. That and Sophie's Choice. That shit is raw. Anyway, I missed my child so bad; I felt like my heart was breaking.
  Oh, yeah, they're bros. I just heard someone get called a "fag". I think I smell meat, too. Bros love meat. Maybe I'm a bro. I should join them.

Friday, May 3, 2013

The new Bridget Jones

I was recently told that I look like Renee Zellweger by a gorgeous, funny guy whose every word I hang on. Sometimes I see the resemblance. Especially when she plays Bridget Jones. It's depressing to read about how she gained all this weight and she ends up being what looks like my real life weight. Thanks, Hollywood. Due to the comparison, I examined her and the movie more. I've come to the conclusion that I'm the American Bridget Jones.
1. The features- We have the same squinty eyes that get pushed up even more by our full cheeks. Blonde hair, pale skin.
2. The underwear- I wear the big underwear just like Bridget. When I was young, I rocked the thongs. Directly after Viggo was born, I was at the store buying Spanx. To compound the big underwear , I wear what looks like even bigger underwear over them. Men are always baffled. They start undressing you & just stop, perplexed by how to get them off. I usually just save the moment by quickly rolling them down & tossing them aside. I might as well throw a bucket of cold water on them. Spanx are not penis risers.
3. We're attracted to the bad ones- she had Hugh Grant; I had a list that I don't want to think about. There's just something thrilling about a jerk. A huge flaw in the female brain. Maybe we like the every second of uncertainty that comes from dating an asshole.
3. We're clumsy- Those silly hijinks you see in the movie can be performed for you in real life by me. Who else falls down the stairs while pregnant because she heard Jeopardy coming on & hurried in her Hello Kitty slippers to catch it? My blunders aren't as adorable as hers. She slides down a fireman's pole, revealing her "arse". I accidentally walk around work, zipper down, sans underwear. Yeah, true story.
4. We both subject our friends to our dating woes. I'm always texting some detail to a girlfriend. I'm like a lame Sex & the City character. My relationships seem to last as long as theirs do on that show. I need a round table discussion like she had going on. A friend that curses a lot like hers would be greatly entertaining.
5. We stare at others while they're sleeping- it's out of love. I stare at Viggo every time he sleeps. I stare at guys because it's the one time you can get a good, honest look at them. Ok, I'm a creep, I accept it.
This list could go on, but I'm sure no one wants that. Let's just say that we're very similar, that character and me. Most of all,
we both have a great desire for true love. That's a wonderful thing.