Disillusionment, or Friends with Benefits?

I have decided something about myself that may either be wonderful, or tragically limiting. I am a strong woman. Yay. But one does not go through the things I have endured without growing and learning a thing or two. My senior year in college was supposed to be fantabulous. Instead, my mother had a stroke and my theoretical fiance shit-canned my ass. So of course, these are not the makings for wondrous life memories. Somehow, I inadvertently fell into my mother's shoes. We always claim we will NEVER be like our parents. I was no different... as a teenager, I swore I would never be my mother. However, a few years down the road, and innumerably years wiser, I realize that I am a somewhat more open-minded and certainly more brazen version of my own mother. And I am fiercely proud of that fact. But alas, I digress. I have discovered that, as a "strong" woman, few men truly want to be with me. I sense there is some sort of unspoken complex? I don't know. And truly I don't care, as I am not likely to change my being in the immediate (or distant) future. At any rate, it is not looking good for me in terms of finding a suitable husband who does not want me to change my intrinsic personality. Compromise is acceptable, but where does one draw the line? So my ultimate question is, do we, as strong women in the world, cave in to the demands of an antiquated societal norm, or do we just find Friends With Benefits that can supply all the biological needs of release and procreation? I really haven't decided yet... but match.com is looking better and better every day.

Don't Bother Me, I am Watching the Game

It is no secret that I am an avid football fan. I, whether for better or worse, actually broke up with someone because he chose to talk at me during a football game (and not about things pertaining to the previous play). Anyhow, the Patriots are my team. I realize that, as far as New England sports go, I am a newcomer to the Fan life, and have had it pretty good thus far. Since I have been watching, we have won 3 Superbowls (and, of course, the Sox broke The Curse). Many older fans have chastised me over the fact that they lived through many years of crappy playing by the Patriots, and that I have missed out on the true angst that makes a Pats/Sox fan. Whatever. I can't really be held accountable for the fact that I was not fully cognizant when the ball went between Bucky's legs, or that the Pats didn't actually know how to play football before 1997 or so. But I digress. Since I have begun watching football, my life is scheduled around the Pats playing schedule. I NEVER miss a game (in fact, once I completely blew off work in order to go to a game at the stadium, which goes quite against my personal work ethic). So this evening, I watched the Pats/Redskins game, and was disheartened to see that the game was just not interesting to watch. While I like seeing my team win, it is pretty sad that the other team never showed up. With a score of 52-0 (until the last 3 minutes), it became apparent that snipers could take out every one of the Pats, leaving the Redskins all by their onesies, and they STILL would have lost. That sort of takes the oomph out of watching The Game.

Spinnybits

My friend Andrew has an amazing capacity to give things unique and often bizarre names. Gold's Gym is affectionately termed "Lumpy's Bump Menagerie." As I have recently acquired a new car, I figured it needed a new and unique name. Who better to come up with one than Sir Andrew? The complete name given was: His Ducal Serene Highness Stanislaw Spinnybits, Third Regent and Landscape Architect of the Sargasso Sea. I am not entirely certain what this means, or where on earth it came from, but I think I like it. However, it will take me weeks to memorize that, so I am thinking I might just keep it at Spinnybits. I often wonder how Andrew comes up with these things, and have since decided that it is probably better not to question it. The man works for the government; I don't know exactly what his station is, but I am quite sure that if he told me, he would have to kill me.

Thank God

Sometimes, I forget to take the time to realize just how lucky I am. God has blessed me with a wonderful family, precious friends, and a gift of music that I would not give up for anything in this world. But usually, I don't actually take the time to thank Him. I just seem to think that the things I have are from my own doing, when I realize in my heart that this is not so. While I update my blog today, I think about the car accident I had just hours earlier. If I had not hit my brakes when I did I would, at the least, be in the hospital, maybe worse. Someone was watching out for me today, and I can't begin to thank Him enough. There are still a lot of things that I want to do in this life, and I can only hope that it is part of His plan that I do them. Most of the time, we go on our way, not thinking of anything other than ourselves. I wish it didn't take a mild crisis like a car accident to remind me that there is a greater plan out there, and that I am only a part of it, not the driving force.

Too Much Information

Before Lola had a nearly tragic accident, she was regaling readers with the stories of her vacation... and sort of got lazy and forgot about them. During her jaunt in NH, she discovered an important thing about parents and adulthood. When we are children, we try to think of ourselves as adults. However, once we reach adulthood, we discover it is not all it is cracked up to be. Lola got just such a life lesson while camping with friends in the woods. Lola learned that there is a nebulous dividing line with one's parents. Whilst growing up, parents tell their children only what is necessary for daily life... however, as we age, they let down their guard. At some point, Lola and her best friend discovered that this invisible line had been crossed when her father started making jokes of a sexual nature. Amongst friends, this is completely normal. But Lola must say, there is something decidedly bizarre about hearing someone you think of as a father discussing sexual topics, or in fact, his sex life. I do believe that crosses the Too Much Information Act of 1974. Lola will say, however, that she is mildly amused (if somewhat disturbed) by the candor that parents are now showing around her.

Crash Into Me

So there I am... driving along... and I develop momentary color-blindness. On a relatively busy road in Norwood, I mistook a red light for a green one, and only realized at the last moment my error. I slammed on my brakes, but unfortunately not in time to avoid collision with another car. I suppose it could have been worse... if I had not hit my brakes, the other car would have crashed into my driver side door, leaving me squashed. As it was, I hit his passenger side fender. Basically, his car was left with a dent, while mine was crumpled up like an unwanted piece of paper. Antifreeze is not such a bright, lovely green when it is oozing out of one's car onto the pavement. And for those of you who have never had your airbags deployed, let me warn you... the scent is something akin to being on the firing range with melting plastic in the background. Granted, I am quite happy to be sitting here, continuing the Saga of Lola.... but am also rather pissed that I have to buy a new car, considering I just finished paying for this one last month. Ah, God moves in mysterious ways.