So, planning a wedding is hard work...

The date is set.

March 21, 2009.

I have a lot to do. So, for the meantime, you can find me at the wedding site rather than here. I will return to my regularly erratic blogging after the, uhm...well, aftermath.

The wedding site:
http://www.eWedding.com/sites/beccadawn23/

Please come and visit me!

I don't normally feel this way...

but sometimes it's so nice to be wrong.

(Thanks to Cate for making this blog possible. It would have included wedding pictures if I'd had to wait to upload the pics from my camera...but more coming. I have to tell the story. He did perfect. From teasing me to choosing a ring to the proposal. Perfect.)

Because deep down I'm still a girl...

My boyfriend is NOT going to propose next week. I am saying this so that I reign in my hopes and don't ruin what will likely be a lovely surprise even though it's not the surprise I want for Christmas. If he were going to propose, my mom would have spilled the gossip ages ago. My sister would be looking worried about losing her roommate. None of those signs exist so he is NOT going to propose. The day he wants to spend together and the gift I've been promised - it's not related to the BIG gift I want. It's probably some earrings and a nice CD to listen as we tour Christmas lights and eat a romantic dinner somewhere. It's NOT a ring and a proposal. But it'll be nice and I don't want to ruin it. So, I am reigning in my emotions by typing them here and then I'll be able to sit back, look at Christmas lights, and only imagine beating him over the head with a non-lethal and somehow ironic instrument while he is busy NOT proposing.

Now I feel saner. Thank you, dear Internet, you may go about your holiday shopping.

I am...

literally in shock over the nutrition facts label and low-fat granola that came with my McDonalds meal...is Mickey D's finally getting it? I'll reserve that judgment until they do away with trans fat and high fructose corn syrup.

(and...I am more than a light sigh-y over the guy I'm dating, who, when I finally stopped being mad at for having a moment of doubt, is so very worth all the emotional risk involved in this non-committal but completely committed thing of ours.)

I am...

angry, upset, sad, annoyed, happy, scared, worried, tense, and EXHAUSTED...so I will ignore all of that and just laugh at this great way to honor the end of the Olympics.

I am....

hiding in my office, so Cate the Great wrote me a song for my day (which is Tuesday but I'm hiding this behind the Monday Funny)...

A Sad Song

She came to work this morning

the creature of her routine

moving in the ways she should

while different thoughts shocked through her head

"to hell with this all, I'm not working today"

and she closed the door behind her

hiding away



So she's sitting at her desk while the slow Tuesday passes outside

all quiet in the hallways

her red hair is curled and she's got her comfortable shoes

virtual conversations are keeping her going

and she's silencing her pager

living in her head

hiding away from reality's chill and the face of spurned advances

and it's a smart pretty head, so what's the harm in living there she asks

and the world and reality are trying

intrusions are knocking

but she's pushing them away

singin' along to only the saddest songs

the echoes of her fear and pain

the maps across her hopeful heart

she's singin the blues with the door closed

I am...

in the middle of a mind-boggling change in guy behavior that has brought all my past into view and is making me very ill indeed...and I was so happy on Sunday...so ready....

I am...

watching FR skate on ice so thin that I'm tempted to blow in his general direction just to watch the cracks form as he sinks to the bottom.*


*Really. Three times on the same fight is enough patient. We discussed this twice already. He's either really dumb or just plain doesn't care. Either way, I'm out of patient. If he doesn't agree to do something in my world at least once, then it's done. I already lived the hell of a one-sided relationship. Oh - and to be 5 minutes from my work AT A DODGERS GAME and not even invite me so that I could do the cool-girl thing and say oh, I love the Dodgers but you need a night with the guys? Dude. Welcome to the underside of the list.

Bed. Bed. I Couldn't Go To Bed.

I sing the My Fair Lady song about bedtime almost every night - even when nothing overly romantic has happened. Not that it was a bad Saturday night. I forgave FrontRunner, though I didn't confess to being half-asleep on the couch with two munchkins when he called last night until well after he'd bought movie tickets to the show I wanted to see. FrontRunner is sweet. I still have all the concerns I've ever had - and since he wouldn't go to my friends party with me tonight, I've added one - but he is very, very sweet and decent and honest and interested - so I'm just letting it flow on around me.

We went to see Prince Caspian. Fabulous movie. I'm so impressed by Walden & Disney. They left the religious symbolism and teachings without making a "Christian" movie. It's so beautiful. I cried buckets. Yep. A 4 tear movie for me. I also left nail marks in FrontRunner's arm - I was quite afraid for all my little Narnia friends. I'm such a kid sometimes. Anyway - as a contrast to Speed Racer wherein after 1 hour, I wanted to chew my arm off so that the paramedics would take me to freedom - at the end of 2 1/2 hours of Narnia, fresh tears fell because I just didn't want it to end.

Part of me admits that it had to do with seeing England again. I think my DNA really misses the motherland. Just seeing streets I've walked made me a bit giddy. The "way out" sign on the underground sent in rushes of homesickness so powerful I felt nauseous. I just love that country. I spent the whole movie wishing I would walk out and see a Piccadilly Whip ice cream truck parked out front - that I'd be back there with the smell of books on every street corner and history steeped to a perfect savor. Every scene of Kings and Queens made me miss the Royal Mews where my imagination seemed to hear the Queen's footsteps as she called for a horse. I make FrontRunner nervous when I wax poetic about my love of London. I think he's figured out that I'm not sure who I want to win in this play for my true affections.

In other romantic news, I am now officially hiding from one of the Quarreling Quad of ex-men out there. 4-H guy and I only went out once but he told my friend that I was "the best gift she's ever given" him. Oh blech. If that's true, then I want to know what kind of rotten childhood he had. Nothing but porridge on birthdays and beatings on Christmas? Anyway - the guy has failed to call or email me since the date. So, while I'm impressed that I can be so good in such a very long distance relationship - consider me officially grossed out. I can truly say that I have learned to understand some of what guys go through. I mean - seriously - since when did his fantasy have any effect on my feelings? Thus, I remain in hiding. Lucky for me, our relationship has yet to need any direct input from me. I'm sure we'll be happily married with 4 kids next I hear from my friend.

I need to remember that all my family blogs now. Probably a good thing for me to have some social awareness. I've loved that this site was just for me to whine and think and whine some more - but some social self-editing will do me good. At least make my friends less scared of me. I'm so much more pleasant and happy than I seem in these words. Even my longing for England is more about expressing joie de vie (French for I can't spell in French.)...

The Girl Sads

Well, based on advice from a guy friend, I spent my Saturday on the beach with the guy in the frontrunner position - the one sending roses and being ever so sweet - in order to get him to talk about his past. No big scaries....

EXCEPT

Until the day he emailed me out of the blue, he was dating a girl for more than a year but thought that the sacrifices he would have to make to be with her were "a hassle". He didn't sound so convinced he'd made the right choice and talked for a while about "not getting answers to prayers".

My heart sunk. I do believe that I am the cold-feet, new-flavor girl. I knew I had to be off-type and couldn't figure out why he seemed so fascinated. Well, now it's clear.

I'm grateful for the advice but fighting the girl sads. The more we talked, the closer I got to being on board with the idea of a relationship with him. Then the whistle blew and I realized that I was sailing on someone else's ship.

I don't know what the right choice is here. My sister said to just wait it out but the guy friend says to end it quick. I'm much sadder than I expected to be since I was so uncertain last week. It almost felt cruel to get the answers to all my own doubts only to uncover his.

So, we left the beach and went back to his parent's house where I had a wonderful conversation with them - because they are really fantastic and kind people. Then I whomped everybody at a trivia game, hugged his parents, kissed him goodbye....and began to look at my life through different glasses. It'll be a minor case of the sads. I'll be in England and travel always makes me feel less upset about disappointment. My only hope is that next time, I won't invest in the guy who is invested elsewhere.

And I've still got 3 other guys in the game. I'm so, so, SO glad I didn't let guilt force me to choose between them.

Speaking of which, C and I went to see BodyWorlds - the cadaver science/art project - at the California Science Center. The poor guy had a miserable time in traffic, so I went to the IMAX to wait for him. When he arrived, I had popcorn and soda in hand - he laughed at me - I am nothing if not self-sufficient!

The cadavers were amazing. I'm in awe of the human body and I wasn't grossed out at all. The lack of formaldehyde smell seems to have resolved my dead body stomach quivers. The project just brings all the beauty of the unseen human form - beneath our skin - to the forefront of thought. I loved one display where a skinned cadaver was holding all its skin - showing that the face we see really is just a mask for the within of self. C said I was "morbid" with my fascination - turns out he's not very "deep" - but I just felt drawn to the complex system that is the human body.

Dear London

I have no excuse for The Bachelor: London Calling. Uhm....yeah. If you don't mind focusing on politics, international foibles, and a president that should never have made it further than the Carnie Camp, I would appreciate your kindness. Because the girls are...and the guy is...and I really have no words for the pain I'm enduring as I'm too lazy to cross the room and find the remote.

I suppose I should not quibble. Not only did blogging about the "nice guy" not get rid of him, the power of the blog turned him into a Tribble. Where once there was one, now there are FOUR. Yes, four guys who I'm trying to balance against work, school, and my family time. I like them all for different reasons but I'm at the point that I feel like indecisive Jen from that horrible Bachelorette show(must find energy to seek remote) - and I never saw myself in that light. Ever. I worry that it will all backfire and that I'm being unfair but when I try to choose I just feel undermotivated. At any point, all these guys could meet someone more wonderful. I realize that if they really wanted to be with me, they would be asking for exclusivity, so I'm just filling their time until they find Miss Right.

So, I don't feel like committing myself to one single person. I've been showered with flowers (the dozen roses particularly wonderful), attention, and kindness. I feel much more confident about myself and I've been exposed to a host of good men who are gracious and gentle and well-meaning. They have accepted me for who I am (extra large thighs and all) and I've enjoyed their company tremendously. I figure that England could change everything. April is big and complicated so they're all just getting one date and then I'll be gone for 2 weeks. It would be lovely to come back and find at least 1 still in the game...oh, listen to me. I'm about 3 minutes away from hosting alcohol-fueled cat-fights and passing out roses (where is that remote?! Why do we have to have a plasma TV with no off button?!).

My friend, K, said to me as I wondered if I've fallen into massively bad moral territory: "Of all the people I know, I think you deserve a time of abundance. Let them bring joy into your life." So, that's what I'm doing. I find D heart-melting with his sweet, gracious treatment of me. C and I like all the same entertainment activities. H shares my obsession with travel and love of a good travelogue. Q and I had very similar experiences as children and we can talk for hours about our parents and families. Each guy brings something new and rich to my world and I'm so grateful for each one's company for as long as it lasts. I certainly want them to be happy because they have brought such acceptance to my life.

I guess I have learned some things, though....because I need to figure out what to do, I have pulled apart any artifice. I'm not trying to be attractive or hold onto anyone. I am 500% genuine me on every date. I don't return phone calls - guys have to email or text to find out if I'm available and dates have to be set at least a week in advance....and dates are the only way to talk to me. There are no ongoing hang-outs - dates last a max of 6 hours - because I have homework, school, and family. I feel so confident and free. I feel stable in my own self....and even though i'm far from beautiful, it's made me attractive. Who knew our mothers were right all along?! Wicked, cruel, fickle world.

Welcome to Flirtatious Anonymous.

Hi. My name is Glo. And I'm an unintentional flirt. I became an unintentional flirt before I could walk and unintentional flirtation has grown to be more and more of a problem. Today, I stand before you as the unintentional flirt who is currently trying to manage dates with 3 guys over the next few weeks....and so my friends have staged an intervention. I am here to repeat the 12 steps and begin the process of recovery:

1.) I have admitted I am powerless over flirtation--that my life has become unmanageable.

2.) I came to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.

3.) I have made a decision to turn my will and life (and all conversations in person or via email with boys) over to the care of God as I understand Him.

4.) I have made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself in order to ascertain the source of my exceeding attractiveness.

5.) I have admitted to myself and to other human beings the exact nature of my wrongfulness in being so wickedly fabulous.

6.) I am entirely ready to remove all (well, some) defects of character.

7.) I humbly ask The Universe to remove my shortness as long, sexy legs would be rockin' awesome.

8.) I have made a list of all persons with whom I have flirted unintentionally and thus harmed, and I have become willing to make amends to them all.

9.) I have made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others (because, let's face it, I'd probably flirt with them again).

10.) I have continued to take personal inventory and when I was wrong promptly admitted it (I did, indeed, have flirtation with that man).

11.) I have sought through meditation to improve my conscious contact with flirtation so as to behave more appropriately around other people's spouses, boyfriends, and email acquaintances (and to have wicked effective flirts with those persons with whom I intended to flirt).

12.) I have had a flirtatious awakening as the result of these steps and have tried to carry this message of unintentional flirtation to other flirts, and to practice flirtation more effectively in all my affairs.

Well, that should do it. Consider me thoroughly reformed, all ye Interventionists! Now, point me to the 1-day sober pins and get me a cookie!

Moments when you're glad you finally grew up....

Mrs. Charlie just sent me an email where a guy had tattoo'd a dragon all over his private parts so that the dragon looked like it was "flying" when erect (thank you, Mrs. Charlie, for that wonderful photo surprise - note sarcasm). As I looked in shock at the photo, I thought, "Wow. I bet I dated him once. So glad I never had to see the dragon."

And I was flooded with gratitude that my glory-seeking days of high romance with exciting boys of passionate danger are well and truly far behind me.

It ain't exactly a poker face if you're playing Bridge...

It was a nice date. I'm not saying it wasn't. We had a few things in common. Not much, though. I wasn't really pondering much beyond steak and how much I like it when we had the following conversation:

Him: I'm really very happy not being religious.
Me: Okay.
Him: You're very religious.
Me: That's the rumor, yes.
Him: I'm happy not being religious.
Me: Okay. Did I miss the moment wherein I asked if you were relgious and/or began to preach faith, repentance, and baptism? Last topic I remember discussing was summer blockbusters.
Him: Uhm. No. You're right. I just thought you'd like to know.
Me: So, what would you like to eat?

Note to the reader: I don't care if my date is religious so long as he remembers his wallet like a good boy so that I don't have to bring out my Wrath of God checkbook.
Second note to reader: I don't have a crazy checkbook.

The date fell back into conversation. I've dated a lot so I can keep a conversation going without too much work. I have an open sense of humor, read plenty, and have background information on enough topics to make a partial fool of myself over anything. We were laughing and joking about Monty Python when our dessert arrived. I wasn't particularly attracted to him and was missing my family at home, so I was kinda glad the date was coming to a close over a really fabulous strawberry parfait. As I grabbed a berry loaded with vanilla bean cream, he initiated the following conversation:

Him: I'm really not in a place to be in a relationship right now. You're a lovely woman, so you should be able to find someone.
Me: ....

Allow me to interrupt the flow of conversation for a brief flashback.

At the end of my last relationship, I was broken. I went to real therapy. Then I wanted to date again but was afraid I'd get in the same abusive mess I'd been in with JackAss. So, I went to relationship therapy. There was this lovely woman who interviewed me and then a few "test dates". At the end, we met together to "discuss" the findings. Here's what happened next:

Her: Well, I felt very positively about you in our interview but the date didn't go well.
Me: Uh....okay....I thought things went fine. You know I'm not good at reading men.
Her: You seemed a little too eager.
Me: Wha?
Her: Yes, he felt pressured. That you wanted a relationship.
Me: Wha?
Her: You'll have to not try so hard.
Me: I wasn't trying! I didn't even think him attractive.
Her: Oh. He didn't get that.
Me: (sarcastically) Really?!
Her: You probably need to learn to control your signals.
Me: What signals?!
Her: Well, he felt you were trying to please him. Laughing too much.
Me: I was being polite! Do you mean I should be rude, disagreeable, and laugh less?
Her: Well, yes. Doing more of that would help your cause.
Me: pause.....

and then....

....I laughed.

I laughed some more. When I finally shook my head and regained my composure, me said: "You're nice. We've had fun. That's all I was looking for here. But since you brought it up, let me ask you something: If, at 41, you're not ready to grow up and be a real adult, when do you plan to start?"

I waved over the check as I laughed a bit more. I stopped being all deferent. I kept laughing on the inside.

Note to reader: I was not angry. I didn't care enough to be upset. I just wanted
him to buy me dinner. He did. I ate it. That's all I was looking for so I went
home happy.

Fast forward to last Wednesday. Nice date. New guy. At the end of the date, he asked if I'd like to do the date thing again. Uhm.....so not sure. I feel like I could possibly do the dating thing and this was a really nice guy. In the end, I decided I should give it a go if he really wanted to do so.

Note to readers: I really like steak and ice cream. If any guy anywhere is willing to buy me steak and/or ice cream, I will go. It does not mean I want to have your children. In the past, I may have been prone to romantic fantasy, but then I got burned several times over. Badly. And now...I just want steak. Not even a good beef joke there - just some high-quality iron.

Like the polite (and stupid) woman that I am, I sent a quick thank-you text a few days later. It said, "Thanks for dinner - you're great company. Hope the work week went well!" Yes, I know. I was daring - all that romantic language in one text message.

A few days passed when I got a phone call. We exchanged pleasantries and then he said, "Well, I did intend to take you out, but things are kinda hectic for me right now and I'm not ready for anything serious. Maybe in a few months or so."

And I laughed. Out loud. Outrageously loud! I said, "I'm in the car driving to a political rally after a full day's work. I've got no time to sleep yet alone get serious. I couldn't go out tonight and don't have free time for about a month." Then I dismissed myself from the call. I laughed again as I hung up. Louder. Cuz yeah, right - I'm all over that level of miscommunication.

Apparently, I give off all the wrong signals, yo. But I'll keep dating. I really, really, really like steak. And ice cream. Don't forget the ice cream.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to a Blind Date...

I was rushing into a restaurant this week. I perused the bar to discover no one sitting alone. Well, I thought, either he's not here, or he found someone else - either way, I score and get to go home early! It was a pleasing idea. I've been out of control busy and I have a certification exam looming my direction, so any time not scheduled is happy, happy, joy, joy dancing time.

I spun around to head to the door. An arm reached out to stop me. I paused and turned. A random guy was watching me. "Hey, you on a blind date?" he asked.

I nodded and grinned. "Yes, and so far it's not going all that well as I can't find my date."

He laughed. Then he handed me a business card. "Turns out I'm single, too," he said seriously.

"Well, good for you!" I laughed. "I'd better go and find my date."

"Call me sometime, ok?" he said. I looked hard at him. I fear players and I just can't imagine anyone being this bold who didn't have more lines than a dry cleaning service. But I laughed and spun around anyway....to find my date standing not ten feet from me.

"Ha ha....can you believe he just gave me his card?" I said when he figured out who I was.

"No," he said with good humor and we laughed.

I tossed the card on the table in an attitude of throwing it away. The date progressed fairly well, but as I left, I carefully placed my napkin over the card so that I could slide it back into my hand without being noticed. A girl should never be without options.

As the guy delayed our parting, I rolled my eyes at the Universe. Yes, I'm back. And this time, L.A. won't get the best of me! Buyer beware....

Commence the Mighty Hallelujahs....

And with that* the heavens opened to reveal...

The Final Dating Rule

1. Don't plan on it.
2. Don't think/dream about it.
3. Don't analyze it.
4. Recite your mantra: What IS, is. What ISN'T, isn't.
5. Live the IS, ignore the ISN'T.

and.....at long last....

6. Keep forward momentum: While the one you're with may stop chasing, the next batch will appear around the bend. Keep your feet moving. The right guy will fall into step. If you find yourself reversing direction, the relationship is dead. Above all else, remember this: Keep forward momentum. I stole this from a CSI: episode, but it really applies - choose any direction as long as it's moving forward. I can tell you - I'm already back to being me. Once again, the dating rules hold true - now if I could only live them consistently....stay tuned...I really will be on Oprah one day...

*"That" would be the lengthy day's thought process where I broke every dating rule and eventually realized that I had turned into that whiny, begging chick I despise but that every woman has the potential to become. So, I asked myself, "Where did that chick emerge? What happened just before?" And ta-da! The sixth rule was revealed. Never, ever, ever change direction. Lesson learned.

Brought to you by Glo: Learning the hard way so she'll have something to blog...

Blog God Awards commence in T-10 hours and 48 minutes...give or take a few whenevers

I always knew I mattered, but really, Universe, this is too much....

Phrasing accompanying my grand and belated entrance into the wedding reception to which my date had forgotten to mention his plus one:

And now I want to introduce you to the most important people in my life.

...Grand pause...

Who are you?


And as you should guess by now, I just waved and happily introduced myself before enjoying the buffet table.

So, RaJ...Lemme get this straight...I'm doing something wrong....

Glo's personal ad: ". I'm Glo. I would like to pile friends in a car, drive around until we laugh like silly, and then stop to smell the flowers. Mean people and dwarves need not apply."

Actual* footage from a recent date:


Everything went great until his friends showed up...then it was just mayhem. With elephants.

*Actual in this context meaning completely made up, false, and otherwise intended for humourous purposes.

I Just Feel So Cliche

But was I the hero of Hitch or the villainess of The Parent Trap?!

Scene: Lovely little Mexican restaurant on lovely little date

The scene opens on one of those quaint dating scenes. Man. Woman. Laughter. You know you know it. Waiter comes over and flirtatiously announces the specials. Man pounds chest in acknowledgment of good conquest.

Woman enjoys attention on all sides. She looks at man under lashes with a know-all smile. There is connection. Ah ha! The moment of physical connection fast approaches. A sigh is heard in the Immortal Movie Theater playing My Life.

The heroine takes a bite of the fabulous tamales set before her. As her teeth sink in, her brain reacts....

NOOOOOOOO!

Too late, she tastes the cilantro. Too late, she glances down to see the sprigs woven into the meat. Too late, she remembers she left her Benadryl in the car.

NOOOOOOO!!

"Mmm," she fakes, eager to save the date as her lips begin to tingle, her tongue loses feeling, and the side of her cheek affected by the substance begins to swell.

She has no choice but to swallow the offensive plant. The sprig slides down an already constricting throat. The hyperactive immune response continues. The restaurant is dark enough to hide the onset of bright, red hives across her arms, face, neck and back.

She wills herself not to itch for long minutes as she tells a clever anecdote and asks useful conversation-encouraging questions. Suddenly, the back of her thigh twitches. She can wait no longer. SHE MUST SCRATCH! With a polite turn of phrase, she escapes to the bathroom to scratch every piece of skin, cough up the wetness in her lungs, and press cool towels to the red splotches.

Benadryl must be obtained. As she returns to the table, she musters up a semi-sincere yawn to give the signal to leave. Her date rises to escort her outside. She is grateful to dark nights that hopefully cover both the allergy-induced spots and puffy skin. There is loud music playing. Thankful, the heroine gives into another asthmatic cough.

At the car, the anticipated moment passes. With swelling mouth and raspy cough and itching skin - the heroine is in no shape to do more than be polite. She gets in the car, pops her pill, and drives like a demon to make it home before the sleepiness of the treatment takes effect.

Ah, well, she thinks. It happens a lot in Hollywood. Why wouldn't it happen to me?! Then she breaks her infamous rules for only one small moment to ponder if she'll ever hear from her potential again.

He texts by 10:30 the next morning - apparently not bothered by the puffy eyelids or splotchy skin or refusal to give even a hug after a good date. Phew. The Queen Bees in high school were right. Life is easier when you're H-O-T. *

*Yes, this is STILL a joke. I am not hot. I just smile a lot. And genuinely like people. And all the cute ones are already married....

Dear Universe

I got on the train this afternoon very tired after seeing way too many kids. I was feeling, for a change, humorless and grouchy. I slunk down in my chair, pulling out the MP3 player and Terry Pratchett novel, Interesting Times (This is the second time I refer this book to you, dear readers.) The Universe was floating right outside my window. I made my pouty face.

"Feeling perky again, Glo. My, my. How the sun pales in comparison to your perma-grin."

I slouched into my teen self. "Nothin' to smile about. Work sucked. Life sucks. You suck."

The Universe bounced along with a shrug. A guy sat in front of me. I gave a polite smile before returning to my book. A page later, I glanced up. The guy was still staring at me with a dopey look in his eyes.

I glared out the window at The Universe. "I hate you."

"This is funny," The Universe giggled. "I bet he's still doing that at the tunnel."

"I hate you," I reiterated.

"Witty, Glo. Every consider blogging?"

"I hate you," I repeated for effect.

At the tunnel, I glanced back. The guy was still smiling. He grew eager when I looked up. I bit my lip to keep from laughing, trying to ignore the now-guffawing Universe.