People are Strange

One of my favorite Doors songs; but entirely beside the point. In keeping with my New Year's theme, I am going to write about something new. Or rather, someone new. As I said, I have met some new and interesting people in the past year. Some that were truly interesting, and some who are interesting purely because they are disturbing or bizarre. In the past few months, I have met someone who falls into the former category. I find him interesting for several reasons. First, as a cynical and sarcastic person, I am usually on my guard when meeting new people. However, from my first meeting with him, I was (for once) completely at ease. I thoroughly enjoy the fact that I have met another human being around whom I do not feel I need to act or portray a certain persona. Second, he does not make my Psycho Radar run amok. As a general rule, people with deeply seeded issues or neuroses seem to flock to me. Not necessarily in a romantic sense, but at work, through students, etc. The nutters come to me as if I were their appointed Messiah of Lunacy. Third, the man can not only intelligently discuss the White Album, but understands the places of the Beatles, Pink Floyd, Sabbath and Led Zepplin in the evolution of rock. I have no idea where this will lead, but its nice to know that there are people out there who can renew my faith in humanity, remind me that I don't always have to be an assuming bitch, and bring to life a part of me I felt had been dormant for far too long.

Happy New Year!

Well, it is quite obvious that I have been rather remiss in writing in my blog as of late. However, this is one of my several New Year's resolutions: To frequently update the Saga of Lola. I figure that if I make more than one resolution, I am bound to keep at least one of them. Another year has come and gone... its almost impossible to fathom! So much has happened in the last 365 days! I have finished my master's, uprooted myself back to MA, been through some tough times with friends, rekindled old friendships, and met some new and wonderful people. It is amazing to see how one's perception of time changes as we get older. When I was younger, a year seemed an eternity. Waiting for the arrival of Christmas was a never-ending period of anticipation. Now I await Christmas with the trepidation of trying to make sure I have bought everything, baked all I need to, and still had time to try and enjoy the season as a whole. I used to remember every ringing in of the New Year; now I am lucky if I can remember the next morning! However, all things considered, it has been a wonderful year. I can only hope that the new one proves as exciting and unexpected.

Oh my.....

So I joined an online dating service. Basically, it comes down to the fact that I am a busy woman, and I do not have time to be trolling bars to meet men. So, I have decided to be practical and hire an online company that can do it for me. And, to a certain extent, it weeds out the people who are truly NOT my type. I have met some wonderful and interesting people on this site... and I have also met some truly disturbing individuals. Within the first 24 hrs of having joined, I had one who told me I was "devastatingly beautiful" (which, of course, is a nice ego booster). However, in the same email, the individual also told me that he was auditioning for the part of boyfriend (his words, not mine), and if I was available for marriage, that was ok, too. Now... I like my men assertive... but this is a touch over the top. Another one wanted to know if I wore pantyhose or thigh highs. Now, maybe I am old fashioned, but I am convinced there is more to a person than their attire, and I told him as much. His response was to ask me out for a drink, and inquire what I would "wear for him." I think not. It is also becoming apparent that I should proofread my profile... You know, just to take out any mentions of the word "assertive" and to ensure that I don't have "I love psychos" secretly hidden in there somewhere.

Sport Eating

Today is Thanksgiving... which I believe is some sort of Native American derivative word for "eat until your GI tract cries." Usually, Turkey Day is an enormous event for my family. Its nice because some of my mother's family, and some of my father's family come. However, we were small in ranks this year; it was only 7 of us. Unfortunately, I don't know how to cook for 7 people, and I shall be eating turkey and pie until New Years'. However, this year Thanksgiving was different. It felt more like a Sunday dinner than a big, holiday, family event. It was less than 5 hrs from when everyone showed up to the time when I was by my onesies, finishing the last clean-up bits. I didn't get as much time to visit with people this year. But nonetheless, I am thankful. I am thankful that I have such a wonderful family, and that I am close enough to be able to spend time with them. We may not always turn out in numbers, but we love one another, and that is really the only thing that matters. Happy Thanksgiving!

Anonymous 4, Sequaelia

It seems to me that everywhere I turn, my friends are either married and/or preggers. Its not that I am in any particular rush to be in either one of those states, but it does seem that I am rapidly being pushed into the Single Minority. There are but few of us left. And, of course, there are always the aunts who consistently ask if I am dating anyone (although, thankfully none have called me a spinster in several years). I think we single women should band together. Thus far, I have decided that Meg, Kellie, Myrna and I are all members of a very elite quartet. Myrna came up with the lovely name of Anonymous 4 (certainly a music geek moment, but I like it). Since a group that sings renaissance music has already stolen that title, I have gone for Sequaelia. After all, our life as singles is as dying a breed as renaissance singers. Hmm.... maybe I should inform the other two women that I have thrust them into this quartet? Nah... let 'em be surprised.

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.