Yes, I Love Techonology!

via Photobucket/susano75

Ten years ago at 12:15 p.m., my husband and stood in front of a towering judge, along with my daughters, my ex-in-laws, and two of our best friends. The ceremony was short and sweet, and at its end, we were bound for life, just as we knew we would be from the day we met. While friends, family, and coworkers rejoiced in our happiness, very few of them knew the real story of how we came to be standing in front of that Frankensteinianly tall judge and saying our vows.

Years ago, I was a skinny blond school teacher; a not so gay divorcee, raising two kids on my own. Though I had my work and my beautiful daughters to keep me occupied, my inward lack of gaiety was a definite problem. I was lonely. When I’d first divorced I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t date anyone for at least a year, and even then, I would confine my dating to the weekends that my daughters were visiting their father. The last thing I wanted to be was one of those women who introduced their daughters to an endless string of men. I had taught children whose mothers acquainted them with a “new daddy” every few months and I certainly feared for their future.

In my college days, before I met my first husband, I’d dated a fair variety of gentlemen, so I assumed that once I put myself back out on the market that dating would be effortless. Oh, I was wrong, so very, very wrong! If I were to blog about my post-divorce dates, you would see titles like, “Don’t Call Me Sunshine,” “If you Touch me with your Foot Again, I’ll Kill You” “Wrangler Jeans and Flannel Shirts in August,” and the classic “Oh, you Live with your Mother.” In spite of well-meaning friends, with scores of dudes to fix me up with, I just wasn’t finding Mr. Right, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. My dating plan was oddly intermingled with a lay-away plan at my local Wal-Mart. It was simple; I’d buy computer in six easy payments, secretly post a personal ad, and in a few short months, or sooner, I’d be dating the man of my dreams.

After my debt was paid, and I’d figured out which cord went where, I began to compose my ad. I brain stormed by making a list of attributes that I hoped for in a mate. He needed to be kind, responsible, sober, and willing to accept the fact that my children were a huge part of the package. He had to be intelligent, financially secure, and cool with the fact that I’m an adult who still likes to make prank phone calls. When I finished I had a list of 54 requirements that my future husband needed to possess. A girl has to be picky, but to assure you that I’m not shallow; there was nothing on the list referring to appearance and nothing that I that I required of Mr. Right that I couldn’t bring to the table myself.

I spent an entire Saturday munching on baby carrots, cooped up in my stuffy apartment trying to turn my list into the most brilliant personal ad ever written. Finally, after hitting the delete button fifty bazillion times, I settled on something like this:

SWF, 35, seeks responsible, kind, intelligent guy to date, to eventually love, to potentially marry, and to possibly make prank phone calls with.

The problem with personal ads is that lots of people aren’t reasonably good at self-assessment. There are guys who’ve had restraining orders placed against them who consider themselves kind. There are guys that are chronically without jobs who consider themselves responsible and there are dopey dudes who think they’re Einstein. There are also lots of crazy guys out there! So, once the fruits of my labor began showing up in my inbox, I had to do some serious analyzing to make sure I wasn’t about to hook up with Hannibal Lector. I immediately deleted any email that came from a father of four plus children. I’m no Carol Brady. Then I axed anyone who couldn’t write in complete sentences. Sadly, this got rid of quite a few. If an email had anything remotely perverse such as a reference to fetishes, or a vibe that there might be a girl chained up in the basement, it was a goner. After my careful scrutiny, I was left with an inbox containing three potential choices. I replied to all and one guy answered back. He was a civil engineer eight years my senior and Guardrail1234, was his screen name. For a few weeks Guardrail and I wrote back and forth. His letters were always witty and fun. After we’d learned all that we could about one another online, he asked to meet me. Amazingly, although I’d received emails from men who lived hundreds of miles away, Guardrail lived only eleven miles from my apartment. After asking for his social security number to have him checked out (not kidding, girls have to be careful), and after telling two of my closest friends exactly where I’d be (really, you can’t be too safe). I met Guardrail1234 at a Chinese restaurant downtown. As silly as it sounds coming from a non-romantic girl like me, it was love at first sight. He was, and still is, the beautiful human form of everything on my 54 item list, and then some.

A burning question among family and co-workers was, “How did you meet?” This was 12 years ago, before the answer, “Oh, we met online,” was acceptable. I didn’t want everyone to know for a fact that I’m as flakey quirky as they imagine I am. So, my über conservative grandmother was told that we were introduced by friends. My co-workers were told that we met through one of my relatives, but anyone who really knows and cares about me is aware of the real way that we really met.

The one I met him on was a little older than this one!

I’m dying to know!! How did you meet your partner?

Kicking it; Bucket List Style

A goal met long ago. It's me as an extra in a PBS movie. I'm not sure who the dude in the chair is, but he looks very in character! (Photo by my mom!)

I’ve been thinking of a “Bucket List.” No! I’m not becoming morbid, but I will be turning 50 in 2.5 years and it seems to me that I’ve gotten a bit too complacent. My life has become a series of status quo induced, bland, events and I’m in need of some spice. So, late last night, with my trusty husband by my side, I began composing a list of 50 things that I’d like to do before I hit the half century mark. Here’s how far I got:

1. Pay for the drive thru meal of the person behind me.

2. Publish something

3. Plant a vegetable garden (or at least a tomato plant)

4. Sew something

5. Take a writing class

6. Write a letter to someone who’s made a difference in my life

7. Reconnect with an old friend

8. Learn how to bake bread

9. See a Broadway Play

10. Find a snail mail pen pal

11. Visit Montreal

12. Go to a gay bar

13. Go 1 week without the internet

14. Refinish an old piece of furniture from a thrift store

15. Do impromptu stand-up comedy in a town far, far from home

16. Go to the Spy museum in DC

17. Write and host a murder mystery party

18. Watch a movie of my husband’s choosing and write a blog post review of it.

19. Add ten new words to Urban Dictionary.


I pathetically couldn’t even make it to number 20 before I ran out of ideas and had to consult my trusty friend, the internet, for suggestions. After a quick Googling, I found tons of other people’s lists of things they wanted to do before they turned 50. The only problem was that most of these lists contained unrealistic goals for their set time frame. One dude, who happened to be 49, wanted to visit all seven continents, write a book, find a wife, and become a first time father. Unless this guy is rich enough to afford all of those travel expenses, writes a book while on his intercontinental flights, marries the first girl he meets on, has supersonic sperm and impregnates her on their first date and she gives birth to their child prematurely, it ain’t gonna happen! I found other lists that contained horrendous things that I’d never want to do, like spend a month alone in a jungle (ewww snakes!), win a spicy wing eating contest, (IBS anyone?) or go a month without bathing (why?).

With the net not being much of a help, I roused my dozing husband for advice. By this time it was well after midnight and I was in my usual state of punchiness. “How about adding watch the sun set from the upper deck of a cruise ship?” he suggested drowsily. I turned to give him my full attention, jiggling the sofa to further wake him. “Or, I could add, do an upper decker in the bathroom of a cruise ship,” I said with a giggle. He smiled sleepily. “You could take a trip on Route 66,” he offered in an attempt to keep the conversation sane. I moved in for a snuggle. “I could also write 666 on my forehead and take a trip to a Pentecostal church,” I said laughing even harder. He kissed my forehead with pity. “What about photographing all of the homes in our county that are on the National Historical Registry and posting the pictures on your blog,” hubby even more seriously suggested. I tickled him. “What if I photograph all of the homes of the people in our county that are on the Sex Offender’s Registry, and I post them at Wal-Mart?” I added. At this point my husband hauled me off to bed, deeming me too silly to write even a grocery list.

This morning, I awoke still pondering my list of goals to reach before turning 50. I thought of a few more items and I’m creating a new page for them on my blog. The fact is my “bucket list,” or whatever you want to call it, needs to be uniquely mine. As much as I would love to find answers via the internet or through suggestions from my hubby or blogging buddies, I know that I need to create list of activities that are realistic and distinctive to my personality and lifestyle. So, dear readers, stay tuned for my list. Also, out of curiosity, I must ask, what are some goals you’ve created for yourself? Do you have a timeline?

Mad, mad props must be given to the adorable Thoughtsy at Thoughts Appear. She has a great list of 35 things to do before she turns 35. She gave me full permission to modify and use her idea, and for that I am very grateful! Thanks Thoughtsy!