Friday, July 30, 2010

The Friday Five

I know, I know - I still need to write about dates four and five. I will - honestly. But first a break from romance (ha!) for the Friday Five:

1) This is the first week of July that's gone by in which I haven't had a date. Well, if you're one of those people who says the week starts on Sunday, then I guess I did have a date. But if you're of the ilk that the week starts on Monday, no dates for me.

2) My "kitten" is now over two years old - but every once in a while, like tonight, he chases his tail. I can't help but be amused.

3) My Thursday night apprenticeship class has officially ended. I've had class on Thursday for over two years - I am wondering what I'll do with my free night.

4) I know what I should do with my free night: go to the gym.

5) I thought about going to the gym tonight. Instead, I put on my sweat pants and had a glass of wine. The best of both worlds, without having to get sweaty.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Date Three.Point.Five

Date Number Three.Point.Five: Mr. Happy

Mr. Happy won me over right away. His very first email to me went a little something like this: "I no if I got a date with u It will certinally be a step up for me. If you want to make a old country boy's heart piter and pater rae;l fast then tell me you would let me take you on a date." (sic)

Now, if any of you have come across my profile, you would know that I ask for - wait plead for, someone who can spell. So, all those spelling errors left me wincing, yet I still had a smile on my face. Why? Because this guy's pic that accompanied his profile shows him smiling - a big, wide open smile. That face along with the tone of the email is what grabbed me.

I wrote him back, he wrote me back and thus a flurry of emails passed between us in a matter of days. None of them long - but all of them funny and cute and self-deprecating (his, not mine).

I teased him about the distance between us and how he would only be able to dream about dating me, as he lives in Winnemucca, which I estimated to be five hours, twenty-two minutes and thirty-three seconds away. He told me it was only two hours and fifteen minutes, and that he comes to Reno often.

He told me he would be down here on July 4th and asked if I already had plans. I said I only had tentative plans to see the fireworks in Sparks - but that I was open to meeting if he would be in town. So, he said the 4th it was, and would I want to watch the fireworks with him? I said yes.

We had a plan - or so I thought.

He emailed me on Friday while I was at work, so I didn't see it until I returned home. He said that he was just about to get on the road, and that he wouldn't have access to a computer so he wanted to be sure I was still willing to meet him on the 4th at 7 p.m. Well, I was, but we hadn't nailed down a meeting place. As if reading my thoughts, the next sentence in his email stated that he would call me with a meeting place.

Okay then!

Friday night came - no call. Saturday morning - no call. I went out on Saturday, and spent most of the day away. I came home - no call. I went out again that evening and returned in the wee hours of the morning. No message. Hmmmm.... I was beginning to think this wasn't going to happen.

Sunday morning I rolled out of bed, made some coffee, and checked email. I knew he said he wouldn't have access, but he added that he would try to hunt down a computer. But alas, there was no message. By noon, he hadn't called. By three p.m. he hadn't called, so I finally left the house. I ran some errands, bought some plants, and got home around five-something.

Oh look - there was a message. I wasn't keen on the message coming so late in the day, and it appeared he called closer to five then three (the time I left the house). I pressed play and listened...

He said that he was at West 2nd Street getting drunk. Where was I? Wasn't I still meeting him at 7 p.m.? He added that he thought I could meet him at West 2nd, and then we could go to Sparks. In my head I was thinking, not if you're getting drunk I'm not!

Navigating downtown traffic on a busy holiday like the 4th was not appealing. What to do?

I decided to do nothing. After all, he couldn't have been that into me if he waited until the last minute to call - and especially if he called me from a bar.

It didn't feel right, so I went outside to my yard and planted the plants I had just picked up from Lowe's.

When I got inside, I checked email. Oh guess what? There was an email from him. I wasn't sure if he sent it from his phone or what - but there it was. "I thought we were meeting. :("

I felt kind of bad, but I also didn't. It was a mixture of feeling disappointed not to be going out and not meeting him, to feeling indignant about his lack of early communication.

I decided to email him back, but waited until I knew the fireworks were over.

I wanted to keep it light... after all, it could have been just bad judgment on his part. Or maybe the week got away from him. Still, there was Saturday. And for all I knew, he had spent Saturday with someone else - hence his not contacting me on that day.

"Dude, you mustn't have dated in quite a while. You seem to have forgotten the finer points of dating etiquette, one of which is calling in advance to set a time and place - not at the last minute. After all, a girl does need time to look her best."

He wrote me back the next day, saying that if he says he'll do something (like call), he'll do it. He added that I seemed to think he was like "all the rest." He said it was hard for him to get up the courage to ask someone out, and he didn't elaborate, but I take it I sort of dashed his courage. He ended by saying if I had really wanted to make it happen, I would have, so good luck in the big old world of dating.

I have to admit, I was a bit disheartened after reading his email. Oh yes, folks, I realized that he took none of the blame for our missed connection - still, I could tell from the tone of the email that he was disappointed and hurt.

I thought about this for a long time. Do I write him back? Do I let it go?

I eventually decided to write him back. Some of the things I told him were, "You know you're type of guy to follow thru - but as you are a virtual stranger to me, I wouldn't know that without actually meeting you."

and "You know, one of the worst things about dating for a woman? Waiting for a call - especially the one that doesn't come."

and then, "The one thing you said, though, is both true and not true: I also feel if you wanted to meet me as much as I wanted to meet you it would have happened."

I ended by saying that if he was in town again and curious, to give me a call. And if I didn't hear from him again, I wished him well in his search.

So, Date Three.Point.Five was the date that didn't happen - at least when it was supposed to. And that would lead us to our next installment...

Date Number Three

Date Number Three: Mr. Moneybags

When Mr. Moneybags first contacted me, I laughed. His email was short and funny - just the way I like 'em. I read his profile, and he seemed normal and sane. There was only one red flag in his profile - a sentence that read "My ex signed me up for this."

Now, I think that might have been his way of relaying to prospective matches know that he's so nice, even his ex wants him to meet someone. But to me it signaled that he and his ex might not be done. Still... his emails came fast and furious, and he was calling me cutie and stuff and so I was interested in meeting him in person, to see what he was all about.

When we finally moved our conversations from email to phone, I have to admit I was disappointed with his voice. He talked very quickly and his words were clipped. There wasn't a lot of intonation, and he had that perpetual "I've got a cold" sound, but he didn't have a cold. Yet he was personable, so I saw no reason to write him off just because I wasn't attracted to the sound of his voice.

We had a few more emails and a few more phone calls, and we made plans to meet on a Sunday for an free Artown event. It was his idea, and I admit to thinking, "A free Artown event? Guess this guy doesn't want to spend any money on me..."

Now don't get me wrong - I'm not all about the money. Honestly I am not. Yet the fact that he wanted to meet a free event seemed like maybe he thought I wasn't worth investing in - like I wasn't even worth the price of a cup of coffee or tea. And since that invitation came on the heels of his telling me that he had gone out with his ex the night before to see The Wailers, well... I dunno... the combination of the two just didn't sit well with me.

Yet as I am an Artown aficionado, I said yes. We decided on a meeting place and event and the morning of the event, I received an email from him, asking if I was on Wells the day before, driving a (insert name and make of my car here, along with my license plate).

I was shocked. I wrote him back and said yes, that was me. He said he had been next to me at a stop light checking me out, while I was not checking him out. He still wanted to meet, so I take it I didn't flip him or anyone else off while on Wells.

We met at the River later that day, and I am glad he found me, because I never would have recognized him from his online photo. Why? Because he did that thing some guys do: wear sunglasses. I guess guys think that looks cool, but it doesn't bode well for recognition when one is meeting for a date.

The event we went to was a hip hop festival. Yes, I know. But it was seriously the only musical thing going on that day. But wait - it gets worse. He actually wanted to sit close to the speakers, so we did. Consequently, we did not have an opportunity to really get to know one another. Oh sure, we occasionally yelled at one another, "HOW WAS WORK?" "TAKE A LOOK AT THAT WOMAN'S CHUCKY TATTOO!" But basically, yeah, we just kind of sat there.

At about 5:30, he turned to me and yelled that he had to get going. We walked out of the park together, and he did not offer to walk me to my car. He said, "This was fun. Next time we'll have to do dinner." I said I would like that (am I crazy?). He said something about how he had to get his son to the emergency room - huh? I didn't quite understand, but he left and I walked to my car. Alone.

About a week or so later, he left a message on my phone. "Hi. This is Mr. Moneybags. Just thought I'd check in."

That was it - and I didn't really see a reason to call him back. There had been no emails or anything, and as the book says, if he doesn't call you right away, he's just not that into you.

Next! Stay tuned for Date Number three-point-five, four and five.

Date Number Two

Date Number Two: The Leprechaun

When the Leprechaun first contacted me, I have to admit I was intrigued. I had a lot of first contacts in that first week or so back online, but his profile was the first one to really grab me. Sure, he seemed outdoorsy while I am not, but other than that, he seemed like my kind of guy. In other words, he excited me.

He only had one picture on his profile, and in it he looked tall. It was taken outdoors, and he was smiling. You don't know how important that is, until you start getting contacted by these guys who think it's a good idea to post frowny-face pictures. I don't get it. So, it's always refreshing to see a guy with a smile.

Our correspondence was quick and witty and we covered a lot of topics. He told me he thought I made online dating easy - let's meet.

We settled on the West Street Market wine bar, and that excited me. Wine! He definitely knew what I liked.

When I got to the wine bar, he was already there. I saw him before he saw me - and I liked what I saw. He was dressed nicely and yet he looked approachable. As I got closer to the table, he sensed me. He got up and that's when I noticed his height, or rather, lack of it.

Honestly, though, height is not a problem for me. As I am only 5'3", I actually prefer shorter guys to taller ones. It just kind of threw me off a bit. I was expecting tall - and he was short.

We ordered wine and started talking. Or rather, he talked. And talked. And talked. He talked about everything from his lack of a car to his kids to his business. I was surprised, because he had told me he hates talking on the phone - so I guess I kind of expected him to be a quiet guy - which he definitely was not.

We had a good conversation, because unlike some other guys I've dated, he actually let me into the conversation. While we talked, I took notice of his face. It was a nice face - he wasn't handsome, but he was... pleasant. Yet, as I talked to him, I kept thinking he looked familiar...

Then it dawned on me. He looked like a leprechaun. He had the same kind of ears, the same kind of bright eyes, a hint of mischievousness and a sunny disposition.

When it was time for me to leave, he walked me to my car. He hugged me and said he'd really like to see me again - would I be interested in going on a hike that weekend? I told him as much as I would like to, I would be out of town visiting my dad, but would be free to hike the following weekend. He said he'd keep in touch, and I left.

When I got home later that night, I sent him an email and thanked him for the date. I added that I really enjoyed meeting him, and hoped to see him again.

He emailed me back stating he enjoyed meeting me as well, and told me about his day. After a few more back and forth emails, he just stopped writing back.

I have to admit I was disappointed, because leprechaunish or not, I really had hoped for a second date. Guess there's no pot of gold for me over that rainbow.

Stay tuned for Date Number Three...

My Month, In Dates

Dates... I haven't had this many dates in such a short period ever in my life. And no, I'm not kidding - not even when I was a slender, muscular young thing I didn't get as many bids for my attention as I am receiving now.

Life is good.

Or is it?

Here are my last five dates, plus one:

Date Number One, Mr. Detective Sergeant

His first email to me stated that he liked my profile, and would I like to meet him for a beer or coffee? Normally, I move a little slower than that, but after perusing his profile and reading the rest of the email, my "bad vibes alarm" didn't go off, so I thought, "Why not?"

We emailed a few times after that, and he called me to set up a meeting place. His voice was nice, and he asked me if I knew of a place we could meet at for a drink where he could bring his dog.

Now, a friend of mine thought this was really weird, so I must interject here with the fact that my profile states that I decided my next boyfriend should have a dog. So, this wasn't really odd, in light of what my profile states.

We settled on Wild River Grille, and I met him there the night after our phone call. He looked different than his picture, but not in a bad way. He had what I call a "drunk nose." You know, he had one of those little veiny things going down his nose. However, he was dressed sharp and was very nice - and so was his dog.

As soon as we ordered drinks, he proceeded to tell me that he was dating "A LOT" of women. A lot. Bunches, apparently, and in fact, added that he had just been on a date the night before.

Uh. Okay...

He went on and on about how he just wanted to see what was out there, to get a feel for the types of women available. See, he had a plan: While he is eligible for retirement in three years, he decided to retire in five. By that fifth year, he hopes to either be married or be involved in a committed relationship, so he has someone to spend his retirement with.

I suppose it's nice to have a plan.

He didn't seem too interested in me, and I could see why. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm nice and funny and we were actually having good conversation (well, that is, when he wasn't telling me all about all these other women). But, I could tell from what he said about his money and investments and the fact that he was just kind of dating around right now that he wasn't looking at me as a match. So imagine my surprise when, toward the end of the date, he blurted out, "You're very pretty. You are very pretty."

What could I say but thank you?

He walked me to my car, hugged me and said he'd like to meet again for a beer after "hell week" was over (the week of July 4th is a busy week for Tahoe cops). I said sure, I would really like that.

I got home, emailed him a thank you, and he wrote me back stating he was glad to meet me and he would email me after hell week to make plans for us to grab a beer.

I never heard from him again.

Stay tuned for Date Number Two.

Monday, July 26, 2010

The Great American Fix-Up

A while back, I let many of my friends know that if they wanted to fix me up with someone, I was game. An engaged and much-in-love friend of mine took the bait. She has a male friend who she thought I should meet. She admitted she wasn't positive we'd be a good match, but stated that we had some similarities and therefore might be attracted to one another.

I said yes to a meet.

So, she called him and he looked at my picture and said okay. She called me back, and we made plans to meet at Wild River Grille on the 25th. The group would consist of my friend, her fiancé, this guy and me.

I got to the restaurant about five minutes early, and waited outside. My friend is notorious for her lateness. True to form, she was late. She called, and said her fiancé was ahead of her and told me to look for him. Then she asked me if there were any lone men hanging around the restaurant that looked like the guy I was supposed to meet. I did see one guy - but he looked nothing like the picture I had seen, so I told her no.

Shortly after we hung up, a very good looking guy came up to me and said, "You must be Peej. I'm Peter!" He shook my hand, and then turned to the lone guy sitting all by himself and said, "And look - there's Greg!"

Here we were, less than a hundred feet away from one another, and because he didn't look like his picture I had no idea it was him. However, as I look just like my picture - and really, who could miss the red hair - I was puzzled as to why he hadn't come over and introduced himself. I chalked it up to shyness.

We made our introductions, and then got a seat inside the restaurant. I think most of us wanted to sit outside, but Greg's bald spot had gotten sunburned the day before, and so he wanted to be indoors.

My friend arrived about 10 minutes later - but Peter had made conversation easy. It turns out that Greg, my pseudo-date, is quite the talker. He's not funny - but boy can he talk.

And talk.

And talk.

And talk he did, about everything from pointing out his poison ivy infected appendages (his legs, thankfully, were covered), to his amazing chicken soup that cures all ills. He talked about river rafting and skiing and river rafting and kayaking and river rafting and equipment and river rafting and his sunburn and river rafting.

He really likes river rafting.

When the waiter came over for our drink order, I panicked just a tad. See, I'm currently very poor and I wanted to opt for water, but as we were technically meeting for drinks, I decided to splurge on a beer. However, Greg interjected before I could order, "I thought it would be nice if we got a bottle of wine to share."

Gulp. Bottles of wine are expensive...especially at the Wild River Grille. However, everyone else agreed, and I thought to myself, well, I can survive on peanut butter and low carb crackers if I have to... so I nodded my head in agreement. I would have spoken, but I was too afraid my voice would sound shaky and scared.

We decided on a bottle of wine (we couldn't order Cab, which we were leaning toward because Greg doesn't like it. I can't fault him, because if the choice was Chardonnay, I would have had to put a veto in on that as well). I calmed down a bit, thinking that maybe since it was his idea, he was going to spring for it.

I found out later that I was wrong.

We ordered some food and commenced with the fix-up. It would be a lie to say I didn't get a word in edgewise, but well, let's just say I didn't get many words in.

When the bill finally came, my part came to about $25. I panicked a bit inside - I was hoping I could get out of this for about $12, but with the wine and dessert and thank God I couldn't eat the appetizer, my portion was more than I expected it would be.

It's a good thing I have peanut butter at home and some eggs. Looks like homey ain't going grocery shopping for a week or so.

After dinner, we went for a walk and talked. Well... yeah, you guessed it - Greg did most of the talking. I managed to get in a couple of jokes, and while my friend and her fiance laughed, he kind of didn't get them.

Or maybe he did and didn't think they were funny.

Or maybe he thought they were funny but doesn't know how to laugh.

When we all decided to part ways, he was a gentleman and walked me to my car. He said he didn't trust that area of town and wanted to be sure I got to my car safely. I thought that was nice.

At the car, I asked him if he wanted a ride to his car (parked about two blocks away). He declined, shook my hand and said it was good to meet me. Then he said, "Well, I'm sure I'll see you around at some of Jodi's get-togethers."

That's when it dawned on me that he wasn't interested in me.

WTF? Not that I minded, yet I was thinking... hmmm... what just happened here? I dressed up, drove downtown and spent $25 to meet a guy who monopolizes the conversation, has no detectable sense of humor, and it turns out he's not interested in me?

I could have purchased a two-month membership to eHarmony for that - and been rejected ten times for my money, instead of just once.

I also wondered what made my friend think Greg and I could be a match. He's an outdoor guy, and I'm a girl who worships the great indoors. I have a good sense of humor, and Greg wouldn't know a joke if it bit him in the face. He plays instruments and sings, and my greatest musical ambition is to not get gonged at Gong Show Karaoke.

On the other hand, I know my friend thinks highly of both of us, so I am thankful that she thought enough of me to try to jump start my love life. I honestly don't think she completely thought it through. She probably just thought, “Hey Greg is nice and single. Peej is nice and single. Why not?”

When I got home, I asked myself if I would do something like this again. The answer was yes. Not all guys I meet are going to be a match - but if I don't meet any guys at all, then I'll never find a match, will I?

So if you're reading this and you just happen to know some guy who you think would be a match for me, go ahead and fix us up. I only ask that we not buy a bottle of wine to share... at least until I'm making more money.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

The Proof is in the Rosemary

I can't write a blog entry without writing the subject line first. So this is going to be difficult for me - right now the subject line is empty and it's driving me crazy. However, the whole "can't write until I have a subject line" thing is the main reason I haven't written lately... so I'm going to try something completely different and just type... and see what comes out.

I have so much on my mind - so many things I've wanted to write about and purge from my system. But these things just keep on mulling around my head, and it's just not healthy. It's not healthy because I don't get them out. They fester and grow and I become so used to their being there that these roadblocks become easy to ignore. Oh yes, they're roadblocks - huge, obtrusive cones that slow me down and make my journey miserable. And I want to move them out of the way, but I've become so adept at sidestepping them that I sometimes forget I have the power to remove them.

This afternoon I was able to ignore the roadblocks and go out on a date - this would be my fourth date recently with someone new. This is a first for me - I have never in my life done this much dating in such a short period of time. Never. And I know some of you women are probably saying, "Yes! Go for it! That's the way to do it!" But me? I simply roll my eyes and say, "Here we go again..."

Because you see for me it's always kind of the same thing: a guy is super interested in me and can't seem to get enough of me until we meet. And then... I dunno. It could be that I'm not showing enough enthusiasm. It could be they're not attracted to me. It could be that they're dating a bunch of others, too, and I am not enough of whatever it is that I need to be to get pushed to the head of the pack. If I think about it too much it'll just make me crazy, so I don't think about it. Much.

I will admit, though, it's a bit disheartening. I come away from these dates thinking, "What the fuck is wrong with me?" Yes, that's right - what is wrong with me? Why don't I ever ask what's wrong with them? I guess I just assume it's me - after all, I spent 11 years with someone who told me I was what was wrong with the relationship - so maybe, as confident as I am and as much as I like myself, I still automatically assume it's me.

Friday I had a pretty good date with someone. It was short: we met for dinner at Outback. He did do that weird thing, though, that I just don't get - he got to the restaurant and grabbed a table. So, I'm assuming we're meeting in the waiting area - I mean, we were supposed to "meet" right? And so I get to the restaurant, look in the bar to make sure he didn't get there before me and grab a drink. Nope. Don't see him. I sit down and wait. The host comes over to me and asks if he can help. I said I was waiting for someone - and he asks if I looked in the bar. I said yes, but I look again, anyway. After all, this is one of those Internet dates - maybe he doesn't look like his photo and I missed him. So I pop up from the seat, look around the bar, don't see him, so I sit back down.

About a minute later, some guy comes over to me and says, "I'm here - I've got a table already." He leads me to the table, where I find he's already ordered a beer and made himself comfortable.

I don't get this. This confuses me - always. Not just this time. It's happened to me before, and I don't get it. How am I supposed to find someone who's already seated in a large restaurant? Isn't that...rude?

I get over myself, though, and sit down and start talking. The rest of dinner went smoothly, and as we walked out of the restaurant he told me that he wanted me to go to his truck - he had something to show me. Uh... okay.

So we get to his truck, and he shows me his dog, who was waiting patiently for his return. He knows I like dogs, so he brought his dog along to meet me. That was sweet, in a country sort of way. After I meet the dog, he says, "I have something else for you." He opens up an ice chest and brings out roses. That was really sweet - and I said so. Then he says, "Well, I don't know what white flowers mean, so please don't read any special meaning into them. I just know you like flowers so I got you some."

Uh... okay.

And then he pretty much wraps it up. I hugged him, walked to my car, and that was it. He didn't say, "I'll call you." He didn't ask me to call him so he knew I got home safely (in fact, not one of these guys has asked me that). So I drive home, not knowing if he enjoyed himself or not.

No problem - I have another date scheduled for Sunday. But honestly? Just between you and me? I'm wasn't really excited about that one. However, he seemed nice and when he asked if I wanted to attend a (free) Artown event with him, I didn't have any reason to say no, so I said yes.

When I got home, I sent my Friday night date a quick thank you - after all, maybe he was just feeling a little insecure. Maybe he wasn't sure if I liked him or not. A "thank you, I enjoyed myself" note might let him know that I did. Or it might make him think I'm a stalker. I win or lose with that one, but I took the chance anyway and sent the note.

Fast forward to Sunday - I was not looking forward to this date. I wasn't dreading it, either, though - it's just - well - damn hot outside. Too damn hot to be sitting at an outdoor music festival. Oh wait. Hip Hop Festival. Yes. Hip Hop. But that's all that was going on today (unless we wanted to look at lavender, and I didn't really think that would be his bag). He had kids, though, so he likes hip hop. Go figure.

I met him and we walked over to the music (and I use that term loosely). The place was jam-packed with tattooed kids - girls and boys alike. As I don't have kids, I didn't realize so many parents allowed kids to get tattoos these days. Frankly, I was amazed and kind of people watched for a while.

We found a place in the shade and sat down. Of course, he wanted to sit near the speakers, which made talking kind of impossible. We shouted at each other periodically, "HOW WAS CLASS?" and "LOOK AT THAT GIRL'S CHUCKY TATTOO ON HER STOMACH!" He looked at his phone a few times - texts, I guess. "How rude," is what I thought, but you know, I'm old-fashioned and I guess if I want a guy who doesn't look at texts during a date, I should maybe date an 80-year-old.

After a couple of hours, he said he needed to go - and again it was loud so I am not sure I heard him correctly, but I could swear he said he had to bring his son to the emergency room. Huh? If it was an emergency, then why did you wait two and a half hours?

We walked out of the park together, and he didn't ask if he could walk me to my car - just kind of said good-bye and next time we should do dinner. Uh... okay.

I guess we can do dinner if I make it to my car safely. BY MYSELF.

As I was driving home, I was listening to the radio and Over My Head by The Fray came on. It reminds me so much of those last couple of months with Mr. Kim - especially the line that goes, "And suddenly I become a part of your past, I'm becoming the part that don't last, I'm losing you and it's effortless." Next thing I know, I feel overwhelmingly sad and worthless all at the same time.

I told myself to hang on...I was almost home. I'll be okay. We weren't good together. Because I somehow think if I tell myself that enough, I'll eventually believe it.

When I pulled into my driveway, I breathed a sigh of relief. I'm home. I'm safe. The date is over, the song is over, I can shake it all off.

Hungry, I started making dinner. My pepper shaker was almost empty, so I went into my pantry hoping I had some pepper in there. I started moving things around and I came across this little tiny jar that was on its side. I thought, "what is that? Capers?" I grabbed it and it felt light. Not capers. I looked at it. It was a small jar of rosemary that my mom gave me a month or so before she died.

I lost it. I started to cry. Well, that's a lie. I started to bawl.

I miss my mom so much. And the truth is, I probably wouldn't confess to her all this crap if she was alive. I wouldn't tell her how much it still hurts that Mr. Kim and I broke up. I probably wouldn't tell her how much I question my worth after these dates. I wouldn't tell her how awful I feel about my life right now. But if she were alive, at least I'd have the feeling that someone loved me and cared about me. That small jar of rosemary showed me how much she cared. She knew how much I loved rosemary and how I was so sad that I couldn't keep a rosemary plant alive. So she sent my dad out to the garden (she couldn't walk then) to cut me some rosemary from her plant - in fact, a rosemary plant that I bought her years before that had grown lush and huge in her care.

After I was done crying, I put the jar of rosemary back in the pantry. I don't know if I'll ever use it. I don't know if I could. But it's tangible proof that at some time in my life, I was worth something to someone. And that someone also loved me enough to give me something I wanted.

And now I've got a title for this blog entry, which eases my anxiety about it somewhat. Now if I could just find someone I love who will love me back... unfortunately I'll probably have to go out on a lot more crappy dates before that will happen.