Too Lazy for Love?

I've spent the last couple days debating whether or not to create some sort of official dating plan... like, going on one date a week, or specifying what days and times I actually read my online dating site emails. Wouldn't you know, I'm not the first to contemplate such a thing. AOL had a featured article about a woman who declared she would find a husband in one year... and she failed. Not exactly evidence supportive of my theory.

But as I sat here tonight, I realized what I really want to do is get my house back in order and figure out some kind of life management plan including finances, work, exercise (I'm trying to lose 12 pounds by March 29th), balance... balance balance! Adding a commitment of a minimum weekly date to the mix seems overwhelming! And, reading and responding to the emails. all the while scanning for signs of psychological instability, to get to that point, is, quite frankly, exhausting. I actually caught myself feeling stressed out when I was signed in.

Am I too lazy for love?

On a positive note, I did see a cute guy in real life at the grocery store last night. I did absolutely nothing about my secret inner fantasy of going on a date with HIM... a real person I met in real life in the real world; but it sure was nice just to have "a sighting." He appeared very bachelorish with his bag of dog food, gallon of milk, and little arm basket of items and I didn't readily recognize a ring on his finger. I work with all women in a big office building full of more women and a handful of married, middle-aged men so any evidence that single men exist at all is pretty exciting.

And if that's not enough, I did get messages from two guys I would give serious thought to going on a date with. Most of my email thus far is from guys that are nice, but not really ones that truly "match" with me. And what's up with the rampant vasectomies?! I never dreamed guys would give up the power of procreation. I mean I get that most men don't think poopy diapers and baby mama drama sounds like a good time, but the ability to plant seeds just seemed like the core of masculinity to me. Obviously, I am wrong about that too! Even though I'm truly not ready to be a mother, not having the option to do so isn't in line with my theoretical future plans. I'm really trying to put staying true to what I want above my stupid tendency to be more concerned with not hurting some one's feelings. Right now I'm at about a 65% compliance rate with that one.

So what is the answer? I might indeed be too lazy for love, but for now, I'm going to give myself a little break and acknowledge that life (with mom's cancer and all) has been a little chaotic of late. So if, if, I get a chance to clean up my house and catch up the laundry tomorrow... maybe I'll see about scheduling a date this weekend. Maybe...

New Year. New Blog.

Well, it's 2010. A new year. A new decade. And... it's time for Mona Lake to get real. Get serious. Get living.

And get a "new" blog.

This blog originated from a nagging need for a purpose in life when I found myself unexpectedly unemployed prior to the nation wide implosion of the economy. The world had carried on without me. I was depressed. Bored. And scared shitless. With that 10 month bout of unemployment came peaks and valleys of emotions that led to my blog becoming a pseudo bi-polar paradise of topic-of-the-day randomness.

Now that I am gainfully employed, and frankly, out of excuses... it's time to get back to what I wanted this blog to be. What I want to be.

I'm afraid. I admit it. I'm afraid that my love boat may have already sailed off without me. I'm afraid my mother will die of cancer and my grandparents will start dropping like flies. As a result, I'm afraid I'll wind up regretting not starting a family of my own... because I was too busy being afraid.

I'm 38. For a few more months. If I have even the slightest desire to ever have a child, simple math tells me that I had better start living my life in such a way that might make that remotely possible. This means I'm going to have to give up the boring security the ill-fitting sweatpants and anti-social behaviors I acquired during my stint as Jobless Jody, and get out there and date!

DATE?!?!

Fuck.

Trying to be proactive, I posted a profile on an online dating site right before Thanksgiving. The very next week, I found out my mother has cancer again. For those of you who haven't yet found yourself 38, lonely and dateless; flirting shamelessly through emails with guys on a dating site and deciding whether to go bowling with mrlovemachine23987* or have coffee with bitterdivorcevictim69* when your mother has cancer... just doesn't sit right in your head and heart.

A few days after the news sunk in... I began to realize that not only was my mother's mortality in jeopardy, my grandparents are all "getting long in the tooth." They are all in their late 70's to late 80's. Again... the simple math comes into play here. They aren't going to live forever, no matter how hard I wish them to. What will my life be like once everyone is gone? Family is everything to me.

This is when the "kid thing" surfaced in my brain. I think the kid thing has always been there, but I buried it amongst the fear and selfishness that seems so much more affordable than years of diapers, school shoes, braces and college tuition. And let's not forget it only takes one person to be afraid and selfish. If I recall correctly, it takes two people for the kid thing... and at least 20 minutes.

So here I am... trying to find a way to make this all work. Trying to find a way to be there for my mother, but not lose myself at the same time. Trying to find a way to lose the weight I gained while sitting on my ass as life passed me by... and trying to find "the one."

Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid?

After much personal contemplation, and a complete surrender to the constant threats of my married co-workers setting me up... I decided to give dating a conscious effort. Some five weeks after posting my humiliating online dating profile... I have committed to my first date; which takes place this evening around seven.

Out of curiosity and a lack of urgent business to handle at work, I searched "what to wear on a first date." I randomly selected an article that gave some seemingly sound advice until I came across this statement:

"Men have definite feelings about and reactions to make-up, and if your face looks noticeably different, he will become frightened and disoriented."

What?!

Do men really, truly, become frightened and disoriented from the sight of lipgloss? The frosty blue eye shadow of the 70's and Tammy Faye Baker's eyelashes... frighten even me... but reading this makes me a little nervous! I'd hate to think my decision to wear light brown instead of dark brown eye shadow might be the cause of rampant male psychosis.

If I called my ex-boyfriends and asked, "Did you become frightened and disoriented when I wore the pink blush instead of peach? Is that why our relationship fell apart?" I think THAT would be entirely more frightening.

And Snow it Goes...

Unfortunately, the bad winter storms brought us more than just a lot of snow... they also brought us bad news. Despite the surgeon's impression that the nodes he saw during mother's mastectomy appeared normal, the pathology reports indicate there are more cancer cells that need to be removed. She must now undergo an additional surgery the first week of January. She is still having trouble with her blood pressure after last week's surgery, so I am very concerned about her having more anesthesia so soon after. But, we also can't risk allowing the cancer to grow and spread...

Over the weekend, I got the house cleaned and the bills paid. I was actually starting to feel a little less anxious and stressed. "I can do this," I thought. Until Monday came. Cancer is just an ugly little monster. It destroys the body, and constantly invades the mind. Just as I get to feeling strong enough to be strong for my mother, and strong for the family; just as I start to feel confident I can control the urge to cry at the most minute of things... I feel my insides constrict and the all of the air disappears from my lungs.

Why can't it just go away? Why can't we all just get back to simply living and loving? Why couldn't we have gotten news that they got it all? Why can't I get this out of my head? Why am I such a wuss?

Your friends don't know what to say to you and you don't know what to say to them. Family and friends are concerned and want to know the latest news... but sometimes you are just so sick of reliving it every time you give the report that you just want to scream! You don't feel like talking to anybody but you don't want to be alone either. You just want to talk about "normal," happy things... but you don't want to seem like a heartless, self-absorbed bitch either. You're angry. Sad. Scared. This is how crazy cancer makes you feel... .and you don't even have it! How the hell does my MOM feel?! I can't even imagine; and she will never truly tell.

Cancer Sucks

So mom's got cancer. For the second time. I can hardly begin to verbally recreate the onslaught of emotion that transpired over the last three weeks, so I'm settling for a juvenile summation: it sucks.



Monday, we took her for surgery. Because she previously endured extensive radiation with cancer bout #1, she had no choice but to have a mastectomy to combat the spread of disease. I will never never forget how I felt that morning. Seeing her so very vulnerable. Not wanting to fall apart. Drowning in the what-ifs cancer and surgery fill your brain with. Her surgery went well and for a moment I had high hopes that this was going to be as easy as cancer could possibly be. However, the next morning, her blood pressure plummeted to 66/40 and did not stabilize despite intravenous fluids and medication.



Today, she is awaiting lab results to determine whether her blood pressure issues are related to the surgery, or if she has an underlying heart condition that had gone undetected. There is a family history of heart disease and she has had high blood pressure most of her life... so the potential for difficulty is there. Obviously, I'm hoping it's simply the cancer we have to deal with.



Even though I've been down this road with her before, some 15 years ago, this time lends a sense of heaviness on the soul I just can't seem to shake. The twelve hour days at the hospital... the silent worrying... the uncertainty... the struggle to keep the tears from falling in front of her... and the never-ending "whys." Why her? Why now? Why cancer? Why does she have to go through it again!?



Keeping the family together, and keeping myself together was nothing short of exhausting. Thankfully, she got cleared for release, and I was able to get her home right before the roads here became too dangerous to travel. It seems as the proverbial storm calms... the literal winter one comes roaring through!

I was happy to make homemade lasagna tonight for my mother and brother to celebrate her homecoming. I set a nice table, lit the candles and Christmas lights, and let holiday music quietly fill the room. She isn't out of the woods yet, by any means, but she is home. And although we all know she is sick... at least for tonight she was just simply loved.