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Thursday, August 30, 2012

The Formula to My Success....

I'll Have the Mixed Signals With a Splash of Lime, please

Today I was contacted by a man I went on one date with a few months ago.  There was no chemistry and the date felt mostly awkward.  No harm; no foul.  It happens.

I have reflected back on the date, I felt a little uncomfortable that he was encouraging me to drink more than I was interested in drinking. “Go ahead, have another beer, I don’t mind”  “It’s ok if you drink another beer” and similar statements being made several times.  TrippyBeth seldom turns down a yummy beer, but I like to keep my wits about me as well.  So, I enjoyed just one Rivertown Roebling Porter.  I have a hard time drinking more than one porter anyway, as much as I love them, they are just so heavy.  I suspiciously wondered if he was hoping I’d drink too much, lowered inhibitions and all…

Anyway… at the end of the evening, we bid each other adieu in the parking lot and went our separate ways.  The lack of chemistry, I was sure, was felt on both sides.

There were a couple of text messages sent after the date, mostly out of courtesy I believe.  We went on about our lives.

As I’ve stated before, I have an autoimmune disease, Dermatomyositis. 
I’ve read on other dating blogs that one shouldn’t divulge health information like that early on when getting to know someone.  I do.  I don’t feel right keeping it a secret, then dropping a bomb months later when I could potentially have gotten sicker.  Accept me, accept my illness.  I have, usually, one bad day a week, after taking the chemo med.  If I don’t explain it, I look like a slug.  Of course, by explaining it, I could look weak too.  It is what it is, and I try very hard to be honest.

So… the previously mentioned man would send me a message from time to time to ask me how I was.  Just as other casual friends of mine have done.  There would be a brief exchange of niceties, nothing more.

Today, he asks me if I would be interested in getting a drink sometime.

I am perplexed.

I reply “I didn’t get the impression that you were exactly in to me.”

His reply “I apologize.”

Mine “No need for apologies, it is what it is.”

Him “Maybe I was wrong.”

Me “First impressions are generally pretty accurate, in my experience.  I’m still the same girl that I was that night.”

Him “To be honest with you, I was really just hoping to be intimate with someone.  I’m lonely.  I’m sorry.”

Me “I understand that… I’m often lonely too… I need more than just intimacy at this point… it seems hollow to me without the more.”

The rest of the conversation continued briefly in the same vein.

While I appreciate his honesty, I have to wonder… why bring it up now?

Am I suddenly more attractive? Unlikely.

Just as I told him, I’m the same girl that I was that night. 

Have his options suddenly become more limited? Is he just fucking tired of looking?  An emotion I can totally relate to, by the way.  I don’t know.  I’m not even sure I want to think about it, to tell the truth.

I know that men aren’t alone in the “sending mixed signals” department.  I’m sure I’ve sent mixed signals that were mostly unintentional.  It is never my agenda to confuse someone, or at the very worst, hurt someone.  I just don’t play like that.  Unless someone does something despicable to me, then I will devise an elaborate revenge scenario in my head, which I won’t ever put into action.

I have two examples that have taken place in the last 6 months or so.

#1 Geeky Guy.  I totally dig a geeky cute guy, yea I said it… they are totally for me!
       So, Geeky Guy (GG) and I meet on a weekday afternoon for coffee.  We sit at a table
       on the sidewalk and have, what I think is some delightful conversation.  I don’t think 
       that either of us makes any dating faux pas.   At the end of the “first meet” we both
       say that we’d like to get together again.
       We continue to communicate via text, vaguely discussing getting together again.
        Then nothing.  NOTHING, NADA, ZIP, ZILCH.
        This makes me crazy.  Why can’t people just be honest?  If you don’t like me, I’m a  
        big girl, tell me, I can take it.  TrippyBeth is an acquired taste.  (And no, I don’t refer
        refer to myself in the third person on dates, or anywhere but here, if you’re thinking        
        that could be one of my problems).
        GG, if you’re reading this, WTF???

#2 Country Guy.  TrippyBeth was born and raised a country girl.  I feel like I know this
        kinda guy as well or better than any other.  Spent my whole life around and involved
        with them in some degree or another.
        He pursued me, I agreed to go out.  He seemed nice, was cute, etc…
        We went out to dinner and a festival.  I had a really good time.  While on the date,
        he talks about all these things that he wants “us” to do, including a party a friend of
        his was having the next weekend.  He held my hand and even stole a kiss from time
        to time.
        At the end of the date, we pulled up in front of my building.  We chatted a little bit, I             
        gave him a kiss, exit the car and return to my apartment, ALONE.
        And…. That was the end of him.
        So, a girl is left to wonder, was he really not interested, even though he talked about
        future activities?  Or was he not interested because I didn’t ask him to come up? 
        Both? Something else? Didn’t like my kisses?  Who the holy hell knows?

I’ve told guys before that I didn’t think that we were a good match, and I’ve been told that before.  It could sting a little bit, but it’s better than nurturing some hope, for something that will never be.
That being said, I’m not perfect.  I’ve just faded out of relationships before, to avoid confrontations.  That wasn’t cool.  I will try not to repeat that behavior.

If I am the one that fucked something up with these guys, I wish someone would tell me.  For future reference, if nothing else.  I am well aware of the fact that sometimes I say things that are stupid, put my entire foot in my mouth, etcetera… but I really don’t think that I did here.

Oh well… good things are coming…. I just know it…

Or, maybe I'm just crazy...

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Successful Ink Therapy

Good morning friends!

TrippyBeth is soooooo tired this morning!  I finally got home at about 1115p last night.  But the trip to Dayton was totally worth it!!

The drive was only moderately brutal.  Getting through Cincinnati was treacherous, as always.  But, once I got outside the city it was smooth sailing.  I got nervous as I neared  Dayton, but the traffic there was perfectly fine! Smooth sailing!  I arrived at Truth and Triumph Tattoo (

Cincinnati traffic BLOWS!

Me suffering through the 90 minute drive.

I have to say that this tattoo was particularly painful.  I even let, and was happy to do so, Kevin apply some lidocaine to the sight.  The lidocaine took a little of the edge off when he was using light pressure.  The process took approximately 3 hours, with probably 30 minutes of break time.


Kevin stated that he was stepping outside of his box doing this type of tattoo.  I trust him, and was glad to give him artistic freedom.  As usual, he exceeded my expectations.

I am so in love with the colors Kevin chose!  The turquoise really makes it POP!

 This chica is SORE this morning!! 
And I need someone to rub some lotion on it for me, but not in a creepy Buffalo Bill "rubs the lotion on" kinda way!!

 This tattoo has no particular meaning.  I just wanted something beautiful on my back, AND I GOT IT!!

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Do Not Feed The Animals

I do not like being touched. 

I like to maintain my personal space, unless, of course, I’m in an intimate situation.  I do not like being touched by strangers, acquaintances or even some people that I know well.  Now, if I love someone, I will hug them.  That’s just me.
I will, generally, take a step back if I feel that some touching is about to take place.

This morning, I was caught off my guard.

I was at the only copy machine that we have in our office (I won’t go in to the ridiculousness of that fact at this time).  Making my copies and humming a little Moreland & Arbuckle (I’m in a good mood, it’s Tattuesday!).

One of the women in the office, KN, walks up to me and can see the butterfly and peach blossom tattoo peeking out from underneath my shirtsleeve.  She immediately reaches out and lifts my sleeve “Is that new? I’ve never seen it before.”
“No” I reply, wanting to step away, yet there is no place to retreat to.
She rubs her finger across the tattoo then asks “Can I touch it?”
Why ask? You’re already touching it for fuck’s sake!

I retrieve my copies from the machine, step around her and walk away.  It took every bit of restraint that I could muster to keep from smacking her hand away.

What in the holy hell makes people feel like they are entitled to touch a person?
Maybe I should wear one of these t-shirts.

Just because I wear art on my skin doesn’t mean that it’s an invitation to touch me.  They don’t let you touch the Renoirs at the museum do they? Uuummm no they don’t, so, HANDS OFF!!

I don’t even understand the compulsion to touch someone like that.  Is it because it’s different? Unusual?
If KN had a big hairy mole on her face or a third arm growing out of her back, I would not feel compelled to touch either of those. And those would definitely be different and unusual things!  Would she walk up and touch Joseph Merrick’s giant elephant man foot? I think not.

This is not the TrippyBeth freak show.  I'd rather people treat me like one of the lions at the zoo, it's ok to look, but never to touch.

As I mentioned earlier, today is Tattuesday! I’m so psyched!
After work I will journey to Dayton, up I-75, amid the rush hour traffic, dodging the orange barrels, swearing, it will be awesome.
Not the drive, mind you, I HATE driving.  But the ink therapy will definitely be awesome.

Last night, I had dinner with my 2 best chicas at Carrabba’s.  I had one of the best sangrias I think I’ve ever had, it was blackberry and definitely yummy.  Ok, maybe I had two of them, but who’s counting?  And I had the yummy mashed potatoes, I love their mashed potatoes mmmhhhhmmmm.

Blackberry sangria at Carrabba's

Ok, nose back to the grindstone!
Have a great remainder of your Tattuesday!!!

Monday, August 27, 2012

Abby Normalcy...

Webster’s defines normal as:  a: according with, constituting, or not deviating from a norm, rule, or principle b: conforming to a type, standard, or regular pattern.

“I just want a normal guy” is what some women lament.

As for me, TrippyBeth, normal is boring.  Vanilla is too bland, it, honestly, makes me gag a little bit.  It is like cheesecake, it feels too weird on my tongue.

Many girls love cheesecake, hell there is an entire factory devoted to it.  I am not one of those girls.  It seems like there is a lot of cheesecake out there, I always seem to get the one raised eyebrow when I say that I don’t like it.

One should be able to hypothesize that it would be easy to find someone that isn’t exactly normal on a dating site.  In theory, you can find someone that is abbynormal on dating sites.  But, there are many different degrees.  Believe it or not, there are some guys that are, flat out, too weird for me.

There was one fellow we will call FP.  He has doggedly pursued me for a couple of years.  I can’t say that he isn’t a nice guy, he is, but he just isn’t the guy for me.  And he had a habit that I’d never seen before, at the end of every sentence he spoke, he would make a bizarre sucking sound out of the left corner of his mouth.  Almost like after someone has had dental work, one side of the mouth is numb and the slobber needs to be sucked back into the mouth.
He kept doing that and there was no slobber to be seen.  Maybe he was just quick on the suck and pulled the drool back in before it could even be spotted.  I don’t know, but it was a very distracting habit.  But, I’m sure that my eye rolling is very annoying to some people.  “Did you just roll your eyes?”  Yep…

FP wasn’t what I would consider normal, but he was also not the abbynormal that I am looking for.

There are also the guys that are too dumb for me…
I don’t belong to MENSA; I am far from a genius.  Although, I did get the highest ACT score in my graduating class.  Obviously, I haven’t lived up to my potential, just ask my mother.

Here is an example of an email I received on the dating site:
Do you have a lot in common which is cool I was going get a tattoo down below that said noddy by nature lol do you like your tattoos very sexy reading your profile seems like you had a great personality an funny love that

My reply:
Lol well if you decide to get that tattoo, I'd spell it NAUGHTY or people
Will assume you can't hold your head up... And if it's downstairs, they will doubt your ability to obtain an erection... Just a word to the wise.
Thanks for the compliments btw...

His reply:
Oh my god that is too funny I don't think they would care what it said lol if the horse was playing lol I think they would just want to saddle up in ride

NODDY BY NATURE?!?!??! What in the actual fuck?
I know that at least one of my readers thinks that I am too judgmental, but for fuck’s sake…. If you can’t put together a short, coherent paragraph… well, don’t email me.  I should go add that to my profile.  And the thing is, this isn’t rare AT ALL.  Even men that are professionals use the wrong to, too, two, they’re, there, their.  I don’t know if it’s that they are rushing, or if they just don’t give a fuck…  Maybe it doesn’t bother some girls, maybe they don’t even know the difference.  Beats the hell outta me…

So it’s pretty obvious that I only want a certain kind of weird, someone kinda weird like me.  That’s not too much to ask for, is it? Really?

I have been asked a couple of times in the last few weeks “Why are you still single?”  I really don’t have a one sentence answer to that question.  I’m not completely sure.  I know, and acknowledge that I have some issues.  I’ve put myself out there to date.  I’ve met a lot of really great guys; none of them were the guys for me.  I’ve remained friends with a good portion of them. 

One of the guys I dated briefly, JS, has become a great friend, we often give each other dating advice (he doesn’t listen though).  After a date a while back with a really nice guy that I felt no chemistry with, I gave him my usual after-date statement “Great guy, just not the guy for me.”
He replied “I’m not surprised.”
Me “Why do you say that?”
JS “Because it’s you.”
Me “It just didn’t feel right.”
JS “What if giving it the time to turn into the greatest thing ever, is all it needs for you to feel right?”

Dammit.  I hate it when I feel called out like that… especially when I know it’s from someone who genuinely cares.  I generally give it 2 dates if I like the guy but just don’t feel the chemistry, etc… so far, it hasn’t really changed anything.

So, that conversation, has led me to think about failed dates, and comments that men have made to me over the last few years.  Many, I’m sure have slipped from my memory, off into oblivion.  But, there are a few that have stuck… and I must share them with you.

“I looked at my matches.  There was Barbie doll, Barbie doll, Barbie doll…. Then YOU!”  I actually think this fella meant that as a compliment.  I am no Barbie doll, you’ve seen my photos.  I’m ok with it.  I’d never be the heroine in a movie, only the quirky gal-pal, sidekick.  And I’m ok with that too…

“I’ve dated a lot of models; I want someone I don’t have to worry about guys being all over.”  I replied to this “WOW, I know I’m not a model, but DAMN, way to make a girl feel good!”  He stumbled all over himself then.  “I didn’t mean that I don’t think you’re pretty.”  It’s pretty hard to recover from that.  He turned out to be a pretty cool guy; it just didn’t work out logistically.

“You have blow job lips.” Seriously dude?  That line won’t get you any play from this girl.  And I’d be leery of any girl that took that worm, hook line and sinker…

“You look like you like threesomes.”  Again, does this EVER work?  My reply “I LOVE them; I just won’t ever participate in one with YOU.”  For fuck’s sake…

“I want to tie you to my bed.” This is a statement that needs to take place within a relationship.  If you are involved with someone, and there is trust (this takes A LOT of trust) then tell me you wanna do that, I’ll probably be down for it.  But to tell someone that you’ve never met that you want to do that???

I believe that some guys feel the same way that girls do… “Why can’t I find someone?”  Well, boys, work on your lines.  Please???

Maybe the more sexual statements are simply tests… everyone has an agenda; we’d be lying if we said that we didn’t.  My agenda is to meet a cool, weird, goofy, devoted, faithful man.  But, not everyone’s agenda is the same.  Some dudes (and chicks) are just looking to get laid.  I shouldn’t be upset that they are just putting it out there; they are saving me from wasting time.

I like to think that I am pretty sexual, but if a conversation turns to sex too early, it makes me very nervous.   I mean, I want a guy that wants my bow chica wow wow… but I want it to be about more than that.

I guess what I’m trying to say, is that, I WANT IT ALL! Within reason, and I am somewhat flexible.

And the saga continues…

Now that it’s Monday, I’ll give you a brief weekend round up.

I did A LOT of shopping this weekend.  I am not big on shopping, unless it’s thrift shopping.  I love thrift shopping. 

Friday night was all about the alcohol shopping.  I went to Party Town and Party Source.  There has been a white wine that I have wanted since my flamenco guitar player friend introduced it to me, after Irish coffees (TrippyBeth LOVES Irish coffee mmhhmm).
I recalled that it was white (duh) Spanish, and was named after some dude.
So I strolled up and down the wine aisles.  Picked up a couple of other bottles, was about to be discouraged, when BLAM! There it was!

Martin Codax Albarino!!  Now, I’m disappointed that I didn’t buy 2 bottles.  But at least I finally remember what it was so I can buy moreJ.
I also bought a few 6 packs of Newcastle’s Werewolf.  I was so excited, as it’s been hard to find.  Gonna give two 6 packs to my pal JG, he loves it!

How pretty is that??

I spent WAY MORE money on the alcohol than all of the other shopping combined!! 

I also had to go down to the river yesterday to pick someone up, at Anderson Ferry.  I’ve heard of Anderson Ferry before, but I’ve never been there.  Mapquest and the ever pleasant little lady who lives inside my phone got me there with no difficulty.  I have such admiration for the fact that she NEVER GETS ANNOYED when she constantly has to recalculate, when I think that I know a better way!

Tonight, it’s dinner with the girls a Carrabba’s to celebrate KS’s birthday!!  And tomorrow night, a brutal drive, then some ink therapy, to temporarily appease my tadiction!!

Friday, August 24, 2012

Boring on a Friday...

Today, TrippyBeth is not so entertaining.  I’m honestly in a foul mood and I have no idea why.   Nothing particularly bad going on in my life.  Physically, I’m feeling a little better; I slept a gazillion hours last night, so I should feel better.

My work is fairly boring, as I’ve stated earlier when telling you about my love for rectal foreign bodies… again, not in my rectum.  Sometimes, something happens that is slightly out of the ordinary.

For example, on Monday… we have a small private bathroom in our suite.  I seldom use it because the only male in our office, at times, has difficulty navigating the trajectory required to deposit his urine in the bowl of the toilet.  GROSS.  If I get pee on the hem of my pants, like another girl here in the office did, I’m going to be fucking pissed.

Anyway, one of the other ladies in the office used this lavatory and when she flushed it, it proceeded to run water into the tank yet not fill up.  So, being ever-industrious, she takes the lid off of the tank, discovers the chain has come unhooked from the thingy. She reaches in to replace the chain, and dislodges the hose that fills the tank.
At this time, I am walking past the restroom to see a geyser spewing out into the office.  The lady, who had triggered this natural disaster, was standing there saying “I GOT WATER IN MY EYES!”


I go in the bathroom and shut off the water to the toilet.

That event kept the ladies entertained all day.

Today, the backstabber asked the person that orders supplies if she could order her an “L” for her keyboard, as the “L” was rubbed off of her key.

For fuck’s sake.

“You don’t know where the L is?”  It’s in the same place it always has been, it doesn’t randomly move around the keyboard.  And if you don’t know that, it is the only key that is blank.
Now, it’s not like a blank Scrabble tile, so don’t try that…

Some people have dumb kids.

Today I am pondering the idea of disabling my profile on the dating site.  I need a break from it, and maybe good things are happening.  I think back over the last 3 years, being on and off of it.  It’s been entertaining, creepy, frightening.  One of my girlfriends said “I couldn’t do what you do, going on all those dates with strangers.”
Funny, I never looked at it like that really.  To me, it’s been a great adventure.  And as far as my dates being strangers, there have been very few that I felt unsafe to be with.  Sometimes danger is much closer to you than a stranger, this I know from experience.
So, as I ponder bowing out of the game, I think back to the very beginning of this odyssey…

I was a wild-eyed, newly single girl ready to start life over, make better choices and have fun.

I joined the online dating community after a friend had met a nice girl on a dating site, so I thought “What the Hell!”

So I created what I thought was a fantastic profile and began perusing my matches.  They were all across the board as far as different types of men… tall, short, young, old, handsome, not-so-handsome, normal, weird etc, etc…
As I was reading the profiles, I see that I have a message!!


Someone saw my awesome profile and wants to know me!  Someone with GREAT taste!!

So, I excitedly go to my inbox.  Open the email…. 

And it was from…

Wait for it…

A friend of my father’s!!!

Holy fucking shit.

I needed a shower.  I was sooooo creeped out.  And, the thing was, it wasn’t like he didn’t know who I was, he addressed me by my name, said it had been a while and that he’d love to buy me dinner.

This man I had known since I was a child!  He had seen me grow up.  Scheezey…

I nearly deleted my profile on the spot, thinking this just may not be the route for me.

But, I didn’t, obviously.  I deleted the email and tried in vain to act like it had never happened. 

I haven’t been able to forget.  I probably never will… some things are forever burned in your brain.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Pasta, watercolors and free tickets!

Thursday…. You’ve come quicker than I expected.
I am, actually, not feeing as tired as I was earlier in the week.  This is a good thing, because, if everything goes as planned, I have a busy weekend ahead.

Last night I had dinner at Arnold’s (… the oldest tavern in Cincinnati, established in 1861. 
I arrived at the restaurant after going the wrong way down a one-way street.  I discovered this quickly as the traffic was coming at me head on!  I pulled into an empty parking spot, up over a tiny little curb and into a city parking lot! THAT WAS A TIGHT SPOT!  I guess I shouldn’t just automatically assume that the GPS doesn’t know what it is talking about. 

Have I mentioned that I hate driving?  If I drive TO or FOR you, consider yourself very lucky, you must mean a lot to me.  I hate driving for a number of reasons…
1) it’s relatively boring.  Although it is a good time to listen to music.
2)  I’m not good at it. Going the wrong way down a one-way is a perfect example. 
3) It’s hard to pay attention for that long.  I am easily distracted, now with technology texts, emails it’s extra hard!  I try not to text and drive.  I use talk-to-text a lot, but with my accent on certain words, it ends up being very frustrating.  But if it saves me from death in a fiery crash, it will be worth it!

Arnold’s has a great atmosphere, there was a duo playing the washboard, spoons, piano and a melodica.  Very interesting.  We sat out on the patio which was surrounded by brick buildings on all sides.  The only thing that was a little distressing to me were the sparrows that would light upon the chairs, tables, floor next to me.  The entire evening I had to keep one eye on the sparrows, lest they might attack me, poke my eyes out, or at the very least get tangled up in my hair.

The food was yummy, I chose a vegetarian dish:

Pasta Androski   V………………….    14.95
Roasted red peppers, wild mushrooms, artichokes, red onion, sun dried tomatoes and fresh spinach sautéed in your choice of White wine sauce, Pesto sauce, or Pesto cream sauce.
Served over angel hair pasta.

I chose the white wine sauce.  Anything with pasta, artichoke hearts, mushrooms and garlic makes TrippyBeth very happy.

Tonight I’ve won tickets to see the movie Premium Rush

It’s a little bit of a trek up to the theater, and as I stated earlier, I hate driving, but it should be fun.  I will drive for fun.
CC will be joining me again; hopefully we can find an interesting place to eat.  I have given him the assignment of finding a place, afterall, I went to all the trouble to win the tickets!
I love winning stuff!!

Earlier in the day yesterday, I texted with my dude Kevin ( about getting a watercolor tattoo.  I absolutely trust him so much.  He has done a couple of them.  I sent him a few photos of what I am wanting.  Told him I like magnolia blossoms and cherry blossoms, but basically I’m leaving it up to his artistic discretion.
I’m going to have it placed in the center of my upper back, below my tiny circle of 2 butterflies and a dragonfly.  It’s really the best available real estate to showcase the tattoo.
Here are some watercolor tattoo examples:

On Tuesday I will journey to Dayton! I despise that drive, but I love and trust Kevin, so I’ll suck it up.  I should look into purchasing a gas mask, just in case the ass aroma is present...

I still want the thistle and the dragonfly.  Badly.  But the watercolor has me so intrigued, I really NEED one now.  And I don’t think that the thistle would translate well in watercolor, with it being so detailed.

Maybe I'll get an interview out of Kevin during my session... He said those tattoos take longer, so I should have plenty of time to pick his brain.

My romantical life...

I will state once again that I am cautiously optimistic.  Mulling a lot of things over in my head.  I think that I am getting into a better place, maybe I'm more ready than I have been to accept someone in my life for a REAL relationship.  I've been doing a lot of soul searching.  Analyzing the things that I think I've done, that weren't making me receptive to finding love.  I know I'm fucked up.  But, really, who isn't to some degree?  I have issues, but I'm open and honest about them.  Someone will find them endearing.  I just need to be accepted "warts and all" and I want to accept someone the same way. 

It's getting closer, I just know it.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Empathy for Embarrassment

Good morning, my friends….
Half of the week is almost over!!

A friend was telling me a story last night about how he’d lost his swim trunks at the beach.  Fortunately they were floating near him, so he didn’t have to be exposed to the entire Myrtle Beach population. 
I could SO relate to his story, it made me start thinking about a couple of my own embarrassing moments.  I’ve had many… On dates I have, fallen UP steps, fallen off curbs, spilled drinks, dropped food in my lap, spilled salad dressing on my date, etcetera, etcetera...  I try to warn people, but no one truly believes it until they see me on an uncoordinated day.

A few other moments have really stuck with me over the years…

The first….
I was 14 or 15 and at the local pool. 

I come from a very small town; there was one pool where EVERY kid ended up, as there was NOTHING else to do.  I had an adorable little blue and white striped bikini.
I sauntered up to the diving board on a warm summer day and dove in.  I swam around a little while then climbed up the ladder out of the pool.

As I stood at the edge of the pool shaking the water from my hair, the life guard on the other side was motioning to me with what I thought was a wave.

I waved back.

I’m thinking to myself “I’ve got it going on today, oh yea…”  I could, possibly, have developed a swagger.

A boy I knew walked over and started chatting with me… further bolstering my adolescent ego.  I smiled and laughed, oozing charm.

Then, a friend walks over, shaking her head, and points to my chest.

In slow motion….. I looked down.


Teenage TrippyBeth was totally mortified!

I turned, jumped back in the pool and stayed under water as long as my lungs would allow.

If I unintentionally had a boob exposed today, I wouldn’t be nearly as upset about it.  In the words of Rachel Green “I got nice boobs.”

The second embarrassing moment that sticks with me…. I was 17 or 18 and at a mall with a friend.
We were on the bottom floor, decided that we were hungry and were going to the upper floor to the food court.
Well, apparently we were starving, because we ascended the steps at a jog.
I have always carried purses with long straps, wearing them across my body, so I don’t have to be bothered to carry it in my hand or have in constantly falling off of my shoulder.
As I skipped up the steps, my purse strap caught on the handrail at step one.  This fact I became painfully aware of at approximately step three.
My momentum, combined with the obvious immobility of the handrail, propelled me into a violent reverse motion down the steps.

I landed at the bottom, roughly on my ass.  The contents of my purse flew all about the common area of the mall.  Lipstick and tampons landed at the feet of the old men who were sitting on benches in semi-comas waiting for their wives.

You know how sometimes you can’t help but laugh in situations that really don’t call for laughter?

I do this a lot.

I started laughing, uncontrollably.  I laughed so hard I could barely breathe.  I sounded like I was smothering puppies.

My friend ran back down the steps, asking if I was alright.  I couldn’t answer; all I could do was shake my head, as tears flowed down my face.

Once she knew that I wasn’t mortally injured, she started laughing, so hard that she bent over at the waist. Silently shaking with laughter.

As these two teenage girls were laughing and crying unceremoniously at the foot of the steps to the food court, an older woman rushed up.

“Honey, are you okay? Want me to go get someone?”  She said as she began to pick up my purse contents.

I still can’t talk… I look up at her, my face soaked with tears, and just shake my head.  She asked a couple more times, I could not regain the ability to verbally communicate, no matter how hard I tried.

The woman finally got aggravated and walked away.  The old men picked up the remaining items that had exploded from my purse, handing me tampons and makeup.

After at least 15 minutes, I regained enough composure to pick my ass up off of the floor, decided I wasn’t hungry after all, dried my face with the hem of my shirt and left the mall

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

SIck Shopping...

I am so tired today.  Actually, I have been for a few days now.  I’m not exactly sure what’s up with me.  The best way I can describe it, is that I feel like the blood has been drained out of me.
Is it the methotrexate? The prednisone? The dermatomyositis? Am I just lazy? Am I depressed?

It could be the medications, it could be the dermatomyositis.
I am lazy sometimes, but not generally for a stretch of this many days.
I don’t think I’m depressed.  I remember thinking I was depressed after the split with my ex.  I went to a therapist who said “You’re not depressed, you just lived with an asshole for too many years.”  He really nailed it. 
I am still amazed at how my life has changed over the last three years.  It’s definitely been a journey.  The journey, however, has taken a detour over the course of the last 18 months or so with the dermatomyositis.  I get a little angry sometimes, I so don’t want to be the sick girl.  I wanna be Action Girl again…..
I have learned that it is important to listen to my body.  If I’m tired, I have to rest, or I’ll get sick.  And I can’t afford to be sicker than I already am.  I’m hopeful that one more night of lying low will have me back on my game.

Since I’ve been puny and lying around, I realized that I still had a little bonus money burning hole in my bank account.  So I climb out there on the interwebs…. Two things I have been looking for, a bottlecap man and a retro-looking dress. 

Found them both!!

Can't wait to get this little guy... any name suggestions?

THE dress.

I paid a little more than I had planned for my little man, but they are fairly rare, so I think he was worth it. 

The dress I got on sale!!  But I had to buy a pair of shoes to go with, so I really haven’t saved any money.  I seldom ever buy anything new, so this is a real treat for myself!

And DAMMIT, I deserve it!!

Hopefully charming and amusing TrippyBeth will return tomorrow!!!

Prickly Posting

Over the weekend I got a message from a reader….

“After reading your blog for ten seconds it just screams how judgmental you are.  No wonder you’re single.”

“When you are lying in bed at night asking the ceiling why you are single, just know, it isn’t us, it’s you.”

He later recanted.  But what he said has really stuck with me.

Am I really my own worst enemy?

I was miserable for a lot of years with one man.  I will NEVER go back to that life.  In order to avoid making the same mistakes twice, I am not settling.

There are qualities, issues, personality traits, etcetera, that I know will not work in a relationship with me.
For example:  

  1. The guy is an alcoholic; I cannot live through that again.
  2. The guy is a bird owner.
Funny story… I had chatted with a man from a dating site, seemed to hit it off, but he had a bird.  He asked me to meet; I was hesitant, but agreed.  So we met at a local park and took a walk.  As we were walking and talking, he tells me the tragic story of his bird’s DEATH 2 days prior!!
Now, I didn’t wish death on the birdie, but I did think “He’s a great guy, too bad he has that damn bird.”
Turns out that the bird man and I had no chemistry, but I did feel a little guilty about his bird dying…
  1. The guy doesn’t have a job or won’t keep one… TrippyBeth is no sugar mama.
Do those issues make me judgmental? I suppose so. 
Do those issues make me a bad person? No.  No one should have to settle.
I wouldn’t expect a man to settle for me if my phobias, for example, were just too much for him to tolerate.  That’s not doing anyone any favors.

So, I will continue being me, to the dismay of others… If I’m not truly myself, how will I ever find happiness?  I want happiness for the real me, not some fake me.

Tattoo Talk….

I want a thistle tattoo. 

They are beautiful, yet are considered a weed by most, they are prickly and detestable.  Most people go to extreme efforts to rid their property of them.  But they’re resilient, they keep hangin’ in.
In Scotland, the thistle is a national symbol.  Being a Scotch/Irish girl I appreciate that and admire what it represents to the Scotch people as well as the English and Irish peeps.

I think I’d like in on my left arm to begin to fill out the half sleeve.  So many tattoos I want, so little time……

Monday, August 20, 2012

Communication Conundrum

 It’s 2012 and we have so many ways to communicate, it is almost overwhelming.

Home phones, cell phones, pay phones, texting, emailing, IMing……  Everyone knows that the pay phone is strictly the tool of the drug dealer and the man having an affair… Actually probably just the man having the affair.  Drug dealers love their technology, so I’m told.

How, with this veritable smorgasbord of communication options, is there still a lack of it?

Most people I know, with very few exceptions, have their cellular phones with them at all times.  I can’t say that I’ve ever even been on a date where the other party’s phone didn’t make at least one appearance.  I’m not offended by it, although I’ve heard many say that they think it’s rude.  Maybe I’d be offended if he was texting another woman and not his child, like he told me.  If someone texted throughout our entire date, I’d have a problem with that.  Thankfully, that’s never happened.

Sometimes, I choose not to reply to a text, I miss a text if I get a flurry of them all at once, I fall asleep during texting conversation. But I would say that 95% of the time I promptly return text messages.
Instant messages, however, are not always replied to as promptly.  I almost look at an IM like an email.  If someone needed to reach me urgently, they would text.
I know that you’re thinking “If someone wanted to reach TrippyBeth urgently, why wouldn’t they just call her?”

TrippyBeth HATES talking on the phone.  HATE HATE HATE HATE IT!!

And, I hate listening to voice mails.  My voice mail message even says that I may not listen to the message you are leaving.  Which seems to be offensive to some people “Well…? I hope you listen to this message.” I can see that I missed a call from said person, when I notice this; I’ll determine whether or not I can actually tolerate listening to the message.  A large percentage of the time, I cannot, so I don’t.

This particular little habit of mine could be bringing Karma’s wrath down upon me.

Not that this happens often, but it has happened over the last few years….

“My phone died and I didn’t recharge it.”  From someone who conducts actual business from their phone.  And this same person seemed highly offended when I doubted the story…. Methinks he doth protest too much.

“There is something wrong with my phone; I’ve been sending you messages.”  I am suspicious about this one too. 

Although I once had a Palm go into text failure.  Took me a while to realize what was going on.  I spent an entire weekend thinking that no one liked me anymore, because no one would return a text.  The following Monday morning, a friend called “Where are you?” he asked.  “At work, why?” I replied.  “I’ve been texting you all weekend and you never replied.”

It seems everyone thought that I was either just plain rude or crazy busy.

Once the technical issue was discovered, I trekked out to the AT&T store… they saw me coming…..  I could get a Blackberry for $.01 with an upgrade, so this was what I fully intended to do.
I made the mistake of pausing in front of the iPhone display.

$200 later, I walked out with an iPhone.  I’m a sucker.  Now, I can hardly live without it.

There could also be a catastrophe that would cause someone to lose all of their numbers, I had this happen once when my first iPhone took a shit and someone had not backed up her contacts.  But that would only explain not initiating a text, wouldn’t explain not returning one.

“I lost my phone!”  But now, conveniently “I found it!”  I’d probably believe this one if it only happened ONE time.

I’ve heard other people say that they were given the “I was asleep” excuse…. But they could see that the person’s Facebook status was being updated, via their phone, while they said they were asleep.

Busted by your own technology…  That can’t be a good feeling.

Sometimes, when someone doesn’t reply to me, my imagination goes wild.  Are they sick? Dying? In a ditch?

If someone is in the middle of a true emergency or actively dying, I don’t expect a reply. 

But if you’re not, be courteous…. REPLY… even if to tell me to “Fuck off” 
It seems that the person who chooses not to reply is the person that holds the power, in whatever type of relationship it is. Therefore, making the simple act of communicating into a game, where there is no fun or prizes.

So……… if at some point in the future, you and I are communicating in some not-in-person mode, and you don’t want to continue, grow some balls and tell me to “Fuck off”. 

Be a grown-up about it and tell me why….