Last year… Last year was a doozy.
2018 was both awesomely awful and awfully awesome at the SAME TIME.
It was an emotional rollercoaster, and I still don’t have my head screwed on quite right.
- Searing back pain that helped me drop 40 pounds
- Surgery that took away the pain and orders to walk that kept the weight off after my appetite came back
- A small, 13-ish year-old, muppet-ish looking dog with one good eye and 6-10 teeth left in her head (2 of which have fallen out so make that 4-8) who adopted me off the street
- Sculpture class where I made a leaf boat that looks nothing like a leaf and only vaguely like a boat
- Welding class where I was a natural at MIG welding but almost took the instructor’s face off with the plasma torch
- My niece not wanting to eat her lunch because “wheat bread has an aftertaste”
- MadamBob emailing “You suck! I love you, but you SUCK!” at hearing I’d lucked into a free bacon kolache
- The air conditioner finally crapping out and, while it was being replaced, my crazy ass neighbor from across the street stopped by to ask if she could have all the scrap pieces for an art project she was working on, then looked very sad when she was informed that no, she could not have the old, busted, rusted, 30 year-old air conditioner to make into a children’s puppet theater
Now I know what you’re thinking, that’s mostly awesome and only slightly awful, right?
Wait for it…
Remember how I mentioned in my last, very distant post that I signed up for eHarmony a week after surgery because I felt so much better and thinner and awesomer?
Dating highlights include:
- The accountant who interviewed me for the position of step-mother to his 6 children (check please)
- The arson investigator who was a religious fanatic (I’m sure he’s still praying for me)
- The cop who tried to convince me to go on the caveman diet (before we actually went out!)
- The British gent who could not decide on where we should meet (he never did figure it out)
- The bookstore manager recently transplanted from New Jersey who literally had nothing to talk about but baseball (which I detest)
- The 6’7″ IT guy in Austin who makes cookies and cream fudge (he’s basically a pen pal)
- The programmer who, after one of the best dates I’ve been on, was supposed to call me when he returned from working in Arkansas (apparently he MOVED to Arkansas)
Those were all first dates that were also last dates and only the ones I haven’t blocked out of my mind
I dated an accountant (no kids but three alcoholic ex-wives) for about three months. MadamBob asked me one morning why I was still dating him when I obvsiouly wasn’t feeling over-the-moon like I should. He clearly wasn’t right for me and he wouldn’t touch me. And I don’t even mean “touch” me. I mean we went on a lot of dates, had a lot of dinners and saw a lot of movies but the couple of times we kissed I initiated and he never made any physical contact, which is REALLY important to me. I just kept telling myself he needed more time and maybe moving at a snail’s pace was a good thing and maybe he was a lesson in patience for me. Then one night at the movies I moved in my seat and when my leg brushed his, he recoiled…like I was covered in pedophilic fire ants!