Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Your Online Dating Profile

For those of you who are single and ready to mingle, or for those of you who like to play the mental game "IF I was single and ready to mingle" you ever think about how you would write your dating profile...That is assuming you don't already have one?

I do.

Because let me tell y'all sumpin...

This new Amy...

She is going be who she is (which, let's be honest...CAN be fabulous most of the time).  So if I ever had to actually create a dating profile...the following would be included.

I wrote that several months ago...before 'The End' and my 'New Beginning'.  It sounds easy enough.  Simple right?  I mean yes...I want MAGIC...but what makes it magical is a touch and a thought and intention.

The funny thing about being on the market and having a public blog that is as open as mine is that any potential suitor could read it and know things about me that one usually waits until the 3rd, or 17th date to share.  Yesterday I found out that I had a reading audience of "real life" guys the ol blog from time to time.  I panicked for about 4 seconds, quickly running through the list of posts in my mind that are included in the last 8 years (including but not limited to posts about pooping on the side of the road and my labia)...but then I shrugged and thought, "Well, if you read this and STILL want to date me...then you know what you are getting!"

So let me add to my list of wants shall I?

Here we go:

  • You don't need to be a great dancer, but from time to time I would like you to sway back and forth with me.  It might be in the kitchen, it might be in the backyard.  But I want you to hold me and move with me...and seal the deal with a kiss.
  • Speaking of have to be a good one.
  • You have to celebrate special days or occasions.  You don't have to buy me expensive gifts, but thoughtfulness on my birthday or Christmas, or...just on a Monday is important to me.  Write me a love note.  Buy me a flower.  Please don't just hand me your credit card and let me do all the work. 
  • You have to be sweet to my mother even when she is driving ME crazy and you have to pretend to understand my father when he is speaking "Al".
  • You have to be kind to my friends.  They are amazing.  Many of them are crazy.  But they are worth it.
  • Must love, or tolerate with love like qualities...animals.  Sorry.  The fur children are my for real children.
And what do you get in return?  Me.  I can be cute and charming.  I am kind and generous.  I am funny and have a heart with a tremendous capacity to love.  I will have your back, support your dreams, and listen with intention.  I never fight dirty.  I believe in communication and honesty and openness. last thing.

I trust.

I live with an open heart and mind.

I'll tell you my weaknesses long before I probably should.

And my heart is still in pieces.

I believe in love...even are my darkest of days, because I know it exists inside of me.  I believe in passion and loyalty.  I believe in people that mean what they say and do what they promise.  I know those things are real because I am those things.

But it might take a little while for me to believe in you.

Because believing in Heather almost shattered me.  I didn't know if I would come back from it.  Some moments I still don't.  But those are just moments now...they used to be days in a row.  And so when I give you my hand, please be patient.

I am worth it.

I promise.

(and p.s.  It would also be helpful if you loved Mexican food, working out, and sex.  Great).

Thursday, June 1, 2017

Attack of the Cockies

Listen to me people.

I believe in karma.  And once I read a book by the Dalai Lama and he said everything has a purpose and we aren't supposed to kill things.

So I don't kill spiders.

Or snakes.

I will only kill two creatures by choice.  Fireants...because they come directly from the pits of hell and are hateful...



See that big sucker on the far left?  Welcome to Florida.  Some people down here call them Palmetto Bugs...but make no mistake...they Cockies.

So when I moved into my new house (built in the 70's and recently flipped), I saw a couple of these.

Some were dead.  Some were not.  I knew I had to take action but would need to wait until payday, when I would take a little trip to our local pest control place and load up on whatever they told me to buy.

I should pause here to backtrack for you.  I closed on the house on a Wednesday, but didn't spend the night there until Friday.  Well, upon my arrival Friday I thought the house felt might warm so I padded across my new shag carpet to the thermostat and low and read 79 degrees inside, even though it was set to 74.  Hmmm...


So exploring I go.  The AC wont turn on.  Checked breakers and fuses.  All good.  Posted on Facebook.  Still not working after I try a few things suggested by all my friends who are experts in the field of AC.  Finally my wonderful realtor comes over and tells me what's wrong and to call my home warranty and get someone to come out.  I call.  It's gonna be 4 day.  Four days in the Florida heat while you house is full of people with good hearts working their asses off is a long time...but what's a girl to do?

So I wait.

Well on night 3 of no air, I wake up to find my bedroom ceiling leaking.  Sweet mother.  I panic.  Who do I call?  I know I am going to have to go upstairs and go into the attic.  And I know what awaits me.


I end up strapping on my flashlight headlamp, called my dad who is visiting my sister in Colorado, and traipse upstairs in my underwear and tank top.
My attic.

These suckers make the best gifts.

I needed to document.

Upon entering the attic, which you can see needs plywood, I see a cockroach perched on the ac unit...staring at me and twitching its twitchers.  I say to it "do not jump on my motherfucker.  DO NOT"...and although I cannot PROVE it...I am pretty sure it lunged at me a little.  Anyways, talking to my dad and tip-toeing through the death attic we basically figure out that the valve thingie is clogged and whatever.  

BUT, my dad did have me go outside to look at the AC unit.  I exited through the sliding glass door, still in just my tanktop and unders and wearing my headlamp.  It was probably around 330am.  When I tried to get back IN the house, the arm that secures the sliding glass door had fallen down and I was locked out of the house.
And of COURSE that was the same night I had locked every damn door for security purposes.  My dad actually started laughing at me over the phone.

Not helpful father.

Well luckily my bedroom window was unlocked, but it's pretty high off the ground so I had to drag a patio chair over and crawl through that sucker...ass to the world.

I made it back in, slightly defeated.

Well the next day I left work early to get the roach spray and doused the outside of the house, attic, and garage.

I am happy to report that the AC man came out and fixed it all up, and now the only cockies are see are dead ones.

Being a homeowner is fabulous.

I have also learned some valuable life lessons....LIKE....there is a little thing that holds that bar so it doesn't just fall down on you while you are half naked outside in the middle of the night.  Also, one should bury a spare key just in case.  ALSO, one should keep her bedroom window locked because it's easy for an idiot to crawl through it.

The end.

Putting Humpty Dumpty Back Together Again

Good morning nut muffins.  Well, let me change that as I do not really enjoy nuts on my muffins.  I enjoy a good moist

Good morning moist muffins.

It's been two and a half months since everything changed.  Two and a half months.  It feels like I have been going through this much longer than that...but I guess if you figure in the ENTIRE stretch of discourse, it has been closer to a year.

A year is a long time.

Two and a half month is an eternity in moments measured in heartbreak.

There are some amazing things happening in my life.  I am officially a homeowner!  I am in love with my house.  It's much like me.  A little older, needs some work and curb appeal, full of character and perfect for entertaining.  And as you may have seen on social media, I have the most AMAZING group of friends that have helped me accomplish more in the last 3 weeks with the house than most people do in three months.
 There were multiple slumber parties to paint.
 Moving day and putting contact paper down in the kitchen.
 More painting.
 Fixing things I broke.
 Getting rid of cockroaches
Made time for a little Dirty Dancing.
 Got a fence installed in the backyard.
 Pressure washing.

Amazing things. Amazing people. And I am so grateful.  Please don't think for a minute I am not appreciative of these humans that are here under the guise of helping with the house...but I know good and well that they are really here to help me pick up the pieces of my heart.  When I picture them in my head, they are standing under my heart, hands reaching up, holding the pieces together for me.

Because I am shattered.  And I am so tired.  So tired.  The nightmares had stopped for a few weeks and I was sleeping a little again.  But ever since I moved into the house, the nightmares have returned.  I dream about them together and wake up confused.  Sometimes I wake up unable to catch my breath.  And once I do I just lay there...trying to make sense of what is real.  Trying to make sense of their actions or choices.  But I can't.  I have given up on going to bed at a reasonable time.  What's the point?  So I just try and stay up being productive.  Painting or cleaning or organizing.

I spent a lot of last week angry.  Angry at both of them.  For Heather lying to me and not being the person she promised.  For not having enough balls to end us before starting them.  For deceiving me months and months while making me feel like I was crazy.  Mad at Gina for all of her deceit.  How can someone do that to their friend?  How does she sleep at night?  How does she justify what she has done?  How do people live with themselves knowing that have broken good people?

I don't understand any of it.

I cry a lot.  It can come out of nowhere.  On the way home from the grocery store.  On the way to work.  Walking in my house.

Heartbreak is like a rollercoaster.  One moment I will be full of hope...the next moment...I don't know how I am going to make it.

When does it get better?  Why did they do it? How is this real?  Why can't I just be "over it"?

These are the questions that just.won't.stop.

I do a lot of reading and have started journaling again.  My heart still wants to believe that there is hope for her.  One of my friends text me the other night and said, "Do you realize when people talk ill of Heather you cringe? Which makes you a good person.  And the fact that she won't leave you alone makes her a bad one."