Head in the Clouds

So, I haven't been posting. Usually, the reason for that is that there are things going on that I'm not ready to talk about.

And it's obnoxious to come on here and say there are things going on that I'm not ready to talk about, so I end up saying nothing at all.

I will say this, my goal of going on FIVE DATES in 8 weeks will be met tonight. Done and done. And in fact, I think tonight might even be Date #7 because I've kind of lost track and stopped counting and what constitutes a date anyway? Is it actually seeing him or does some sort of cash transaction/public appearance need to be involved? (Wait, that sounds bad...

I have just spent 5 minutes typing and erasing sentences on 5 or 6 different topics. Dating, my birthday, my glasses, my move, my business, the crippling indecision which has got a hold on my murky brain. But it's Spring, the sun is finally shining and all I can't type another word.

Someplace New

So. I think I might be at the stage where my dating life is off-limits. Not up for conversation, ridicule or opinion.

Let’s just let that sink in.

It’s nobody’s business but my own.

You are probably sitting there and nodding your head. Yeah? Yes. Of course.

Except that this has never been my M.O. It's never been the way I sail my ship. My private life has always more or less been up for public consumption. I’ve always considered it the juiciest and most interesting thing about me. And usually the funniest. Looking back, trying to take my emotional pitfalls with aplomb and make sense of the mess in my head just seems sad.

I’m not anymore.

Suddenly what’s going on with me isn’t about notches on my bedpost or bragging rights or sense of identity or success. I have been trying to measure success by my relationships with men. If I was in a relationship/if I could find someone who loved me, I mustn’t be all that bad; I must be a success; I must be a good person; I must be lovable; I must be accepted, safe, valued and secure. I must be (fill in the blanks.)

I can give that security and assurance to myself now, so looking for your approval and outside validation just doesn't seem all that important anymore. I really don't give a shit what you think. And suddenly the appeal of sharing the most intimate details of my dating life don’t seem so important or appropriate anymore.

So friends, what I might be saying here is that Dates # 2, 3, 4 and 5 might just have to remain shrouded in mystery.

But maybe not.

Let’s call is discretionary writing.

Do I really need all my missteps and failures broadcast for the entire world?

Suddenly, I am just feeling very protective of my experiences. It's so soon and I want to savour them. Saying them out loud almost ruins them, making them cheap in their inadequacy and causing them to wilt in the daylight air.

Date # 1

So I literally expected to start dating simply to have blog fodder. I thought it would make great material for me to come on here and treat you to all kind of horror stories and hilarious anecdotes.

Hm.

Date #1 last night exceeded my expectations. Was probably the best date I’ve been on in 4 years. The man picked me up at my house, showed up 10 minutes early and paid for dinner. The date lasted 6 ½ hours and left me wanting more. He texted me on his way home to wish me a good night and has already texted me this morning to set up Date #2. That is a good date in my books. I still have some serious reservations. A second date is definitely in order.

And that is all you are going to get out of me.

Starting Over

I'm a little sad to leave Front Rowe Seat behind. That blog was a consideration when I was creating my business name. I almost went with a different name so that I could preserve the integrity of my blog, but alas, this is the way the cards have fallen.

It's a different phase in my life. Time to move on.

I had created an entirely brand new blog, all about navigating through life...and then decided that I already had a perfectly good one set up.

Is this my old life? Yes. But it is also my new. And will always be part of who I am.

Going Home

I am going home. Future posts will be found from now on at my original and lesson-giving blog:


http://krowes-nest.blogspot.com/

Now that my business website is live and up and running, I have no desire to have clients knowing the inner recesses of my mind. And really, want no affiliation with my blog and my business, which currently carry the same name.

You've Only Got 5 Dates to Save the World

So my latest foray into the limits of my comfort zone involves a new goal to start dating. Now you may remember my last date and how well it went. It was bad enough to put me off for 9 months and a valid enough excuse for me to bury my head in the sand and hibernate like a grumpy bear through the long winter months.

Well, it's Spring, and I am coming down from the mountain. And I'm hungry and foraging for food. So I've decided to just jump in with both feet, and set myself the goal of going on 5 dates in the next 8 weeks.

Now I'm talking about real and active dating. Not pseudo- or lazy dating where I kind of sit back and let everyone else do the work. Not ‘dating’ where I spend most of my time lamenting my single-hood or feeling sorry for myself. No more of me feeling like a victim, like I have no control, like no one would even want to date me. I’m talking about dating where I take am actively participating, where I’m getting used to regular rejection, not taking anything personally and gettin’ myself out there.

I’ve been waiting. Waiting til the “right” time. Waiting until I am ready, waiting until the book is done, waiting until I lose 30 pounds, waiting until I feel better about myself, waiting until I feel less vulnerable....waiting, waiting, waiting.

And here I am, on the doorstep of my 34th birthday. Honey, time’s a wastin’. I will wake up at 50 and have waited my life away. There is never the ‘right’ time or the ‘best’ time. So I’m gonna get my ass out there. And oh yeah, try and have some fun.

Seeing Quadruple

Also available on The New West

In 1965, the Supreme Court declared the right to use birth control a constitutional right. Personally, I'm still celebrating. Nearly forty-five years later, 28 percent of women ages 40 to 44 had three or more children, 4 percent had five or more and just 0.5 percent had seven or more. You could never tell that the number is so small from all the hype out there surrounding ‘multiples' these days.

I'm going to let you in on a little story. I was in Belize this summer and got proposed to at a Rotary meeting by a man who unabashedly and rather unceremoniously announced to me that he was looking for a third wife. Of course, the statement was so preposterous that I laughed hard and loud right in his face. I thought he was joking. The blank stare and furrowed brow I got in return told me otherwise.

Those of you who know me know that I don't have a good poker face at the best of times. My jaw dropped, and I will admit to you fair readers: I judged and mocked him openly. I'm not often at a loss for words, but the man was seriously waiting for an answer. The two of us stood there awkwardly with our post-meeting refreshments and cookies in hand. It was Rotary Gone Wrong, I tell you.

He already had 12 kids-7 from his first wife and 5 from his second and was looking for a third to meet his personal goal of having twenty children. "I want enough for a baseball team." He actually said that to me. Then he gave me his phone number. Like I was going to phone him up and be like, um. ‘Hey.'

Once I got over the shock of being his walking uterus, I explained to him that I was single and childless by choice. I got a similar blank stare and furrowed brow. What I realized is that me saying I was single and childless by choice was as preposterous to him as his two wives and twelve children were to me. It was two completely different worlds colliding.

It would have been easy to have dismissed him under the ‘Crazy Religious Zealot" category (which he was) except that he also happened to be well-educated, spoke several different languages and was gainfully employed as an entomologist at the town's only hospital.

My point is that he was just an example of the trend of the increasing number of well-educated and affluent people whose families are growing exponentially. I mean my goodness, compound interest doesn't grow that fast.

Between 1980 and 2004, the number of twin births increased by 70% in the United States and the number of births involving three or more babies has quadrupled.

But you don't need to look at the statistics to know that. All you have to do is turn on the TV.


There's John & Kate Plus 8, the Duggers (18 Kids and Counting) and now there's a new show, Table for 12. Recently Oprah had expectant parents of quadruplets on the show (now fashionably shortened to ‘quad.') Brad and Angelina have 8 kids. People say that the celebrities are glamorizing the lifestyle. Really? ‘Cause there is personally NO WAY you could glamorize snot, puke, and diapers to me, especially multiplied by 8, 12 or 18. It's just too much money and too much poo.

But it begs the question: are they the new "normal"...or is this just a fad which will disappear along with the Snuggie blanket with arms?