Palm Reading

Yesterday my friend and I went to a psychic for a palm reading. That's what most normal people do on Tuesday afternoons in broad daylight, right? We also decided we only wanted a cheap $10 reading because honestly that's pretty much all we think our past, present, and future is worth. So we go to this shady place that we drive by every single day mainly because we remember that the markee outside always says "$10 Readings". I go first completely unprepared. I had hardly any questions to ask. I pretty much just wanted to throw my hands on the table and be told "Don't worry. You're going to be just fine." She told me to think of two questions and keep one in my head and say the other out loud. My mind went completely blank. I had no idea what direction I wanted the reading to go in. So I said the first thing that came to my mind. I'm sure she's heard the same question one hundred katrillion times before from the one hundred katrillion shmucks that came before me. But guess what? She got to hear it one hundred katrillion plus one times. "Am I going to find real love that will make me truly happy?", I ask. It truly is something I genuinely worry about. I've been around the block a couple of times and I am not impressed at all by the scenery. She had me state my full name and birthday...maybe she won't steal my identity....hmmm....anyway....and then she stared at my palms. She told me that I have a long healthy lifeline and I will find my soulmate and be happy one day. Whew! Good to know. She said she rarely is able to tell people that. I asked her about work and if I should stay where I am or move to another department. She said I am where I need to be but I need to find a better outlet for my stress because I take on other people's stresses along with my stress and never let any of it go. Then we went back to relationships. She saw a long, strange relationship that has been on again and off again. She was laughing at how crazy it was. I said "What?!?" and immediately stared at my palms as well as if the ability to read palms was going to become apparent to me. It didn't. So I looked up at her and said "What do you think about it?". As she continued to laugh, she said "Well I know all of your friends are telling you he's no good for you and they are right but it doesn't do any good for them or me to tell you so because you won't listen." Touché, Sister Power, touché. Then she got serious. She looked at me and said "This was supposed to be your prosperous year and you have done nothing with it." I had to pretty much pick my jaw off of the floor. I had completely forgotten until that moment that I had proclaimed in January that this was going to be MY YEAR. She was completely right. I had done nothing but wallow in self pity for the last several months. What happened to the gung ho girl that was ready to take on the world? She said I needed to quit talking about traveling and doing other things I want to do and start actually doing them and following through. Has this woman been following me?

I know most of you reading this are thinking "Oh my God, this girl is actually believing this crap." No, no. I take it as what it is. Entertainment. At the same time though, it was the cheapest wake up call I could probably ask for. Only $10. You can't beat that. My friend's reading was even more eerily accurate but that's her story to tell, not mine.

The day before the palm reading I bought notebooks for myself and friends so we can get our lives in some sort of working order. So we are using them to make lists that we force ourselves to stick to. I was going somewhere with this but I'm totally drawing a blank right now. Must be time for bed.

Side Note: Saw Crazy Stupid Love today. Go see it right now!! Love it!

Hey There!

Good Lord, I have not blogged since April! So I kind of feel like I have a little bit of explaining to do. Most people probably don't know that I've been dealing with depression and anxiety for the last 8 years. I had the brilliant idea to come off my anxiety medication last year because I was in the process of getting rid of the major source of my anxiety, i.e. my husband. Probably not a great idea because it finally caught up with me in the form of depression this time instead of anxiety. Don't get me wrong. I've always been a functional depressed person. When I have to get up and go I do. I'm not necessarily very pleasant when I am up and moving, but I'm moving nevertheless. One weekend in June I literally did not move except to take Avery out and go to the bathroom. That's it. There was no showering, no eating, no phone....nothing. I woke up Monday and decided that I was being completely ridiculous and I can't keep living in that state. I went to the doctor and asked to be put back on my anxiety meds. To my shock she would not give me my old prescription back because she said I needed depression medicine instead. I then started crying which did not help my case at all. Ugh! I took the script and just sat in my car wondering if I should even get it filled. I called my mom because she is the one person you can always call and she'll make you feel better, right? Umm...not so much. This is how that conversation went:

Me: Hey Mama.
Her: What's wrong with you?
Me: I just went to the doctor.
Her: For what?
Me: For my depression.
Her: What depression?
Me: I'm depressed. I can't get out of bed. I can't function. I cry constantly and I'm sad. And now the doctor put me on antidepressants so now I'm depressed because I need antidepressants.
Her: Well you just need to take a walk in the sunshine.
Me: I can't even walk to the kitchen to feed myself, MOM. How am I going to make it all the way outside?!?
Her: It would make you feel better.
Me: I gotta go. I'll talk to you later.

Good talk mom, good talk. After that I went directly to the pharmacy and filled my prescription. I started on Effexor. For the first three weeks I felt like I was on crack and dropped fifteen pounds like it was nothing. It's been almost two months now and I can tell a difference. I'm still a bum at home but let's face it, I've never been a go-getter when it comes to housework. It's made a huge difference at work. I know this because several coworkers have said things like "Oh my GOD you are SOOO much better!!" Thanks guys. I get it. I can be a bitch. Most of them still love me even though they won't admit it to themselves.

On to more pleasant stuff....

Just got back from vacation in St. George Island. My favorite place in the whole wide world! I went with my parents, sisters, and grandmother. Surprisingly, there where no large fights that lasted longer than 10 minutes and we all left still talking to each other. Huge success in the Hayes household! I spent the whole week fishing with my dad. I'm trying to decide if he enjoys my company out there or if he just likes the fact that my presence and license allow him to keep extra fish. I'd like to think it's my company. Fishing with my dad should be considered an extreme sport. He has raised his children as soldiers in the war against trout. He gets you out in the ocean and there is no turning back until he says so. That is usually ten hours later.

Please take note of his sweet fishing set up. You've got all the conveniences of a boat without the expense of gas. He has discovered wade fishing this year with the economy being in the crapper and all. I'm actually starting to also prefer this method of fishing for several reasons:
1) I can park where we are fishing and come and go as I please.
2) You don't get as hot in the water.
3) I can pee whenever I need to.

There are downfalls though:
1) Jellyfish stings. They seriously suck.
2) Potential shark attacks. I got close twice...that I was aware of...
3) It makes me nervous reeling in something up close to me that I can't see until it gets on top of me. I prefer to know if I'm reeling in a four foot shark before it gets a foot away from me without the protection of a boat. But that's just me...

I only sustained a few injuries during the week. The worse one was when Morgan and I were throwing mullets at each other and I got finned in the palm of my hand. Note to self: Wear gloves when blocking fish that are being thrown at you.

We had a terrible time trying to keep my grandmother oriented to time during the trip. She just could not comprehend that we were NOT in a different time zone. NBC was a Panama City channel which is in the Central Time Zone. She would say things like "I thought I slept late cause my bedroom radio said it was 8 but the television says it's 7" or while talking on the phone "Well you know the time is a hour earlier here so I can't figure out when Days Of Our Lives comes on." We would then say "The time is NOT different!!" She never believed us. I should also mention that she never missed a second of any episodes of DOOL

We also made the mistake of showing her "The Ultimate Dog Tease" video. She loved it and told everyone she called on the phone to watch it. "I'll have Rebecca e-mail it to you", she'd say. She'd then get mad when they wouldn't immediately call back and proclaim their love for it as well. God, I love that woman!

Well, goodnight everybody! I promise I'll blog again very soon!

Not Exactly What I Had In Mind...

I have been looking forward to this weekend for about a month. Anybody that has talked to me longer than five minutes within that time knows exactly what I'm talking about. My friends have probably been counting down the days just so I'll shut up and talk about something else. For those of you that don't know, my "friend" came to town to visit his cousin for the weekend. This "friend" and I met in November and let's just say became "friendly". We keep in touch somewhat and I volunteered him to install my new garage door opener. Being the super nice (too nice to being hanging out with me) guy that he is, he agreed! Great! I'm going to get my garage door opener installed and get "friendly" time. What more could a girl want?!? So I scrambled to change my work schedule. I was in a panicked state because I was having the worst time getting it changed. Nothing was working out. Finally, I made a terrible deal to switch to night shift for the entire week. Blah! But totally worth the sacrifice. So the plan was he was going to come to town on Saturday, install my door opener while I was at work, after work I'd hang out with him, and have all day Sunday off. Done! Perfect! Here's what went down.

I wake up Friday to a text from the "friend". Turns out he decided to come to town a whole day early. Yes!! This gets better and better! I told him I made plans with my friends for that night but I was free in the afternoon. He gets to the house and I ask if he wants to go ahead and put his tools in my garage. (Literally not figuratively.) That's when he said "I was actually hoping to go ahead and start on the door opener since you are here to help". Ummm....not exactly what I had planned for the afternoon, good buddy. Nonetheless, we proceed to work in the garage for the next two hours. Okay. I've never been involved with anyone that has been handy at all. Watching him work was better than foreplay. He is so adorable. I wanted to pounce him the entire time. Somehow I refrained, mainly because I really wanted the door opener up and running. It was getting that time for me to meet my friends and he started wrapping things up for the day. Then I very eloquently asked "do you want to slide in a quickie?" Brace yourselves for what came next. He said "that's tempting." "What do you mean that's tempting?", I replied. He stated, "I can't, I'm nasty and I need a shower." SHUT DOWN! I swear my jaw hit the floor. My eyes bugged out of my head. I couldn't comprehend what in the world was happening. I tried to convince him that it was a good idea. In my head I was sure I sounded very cool but in all actuality it was probably pretty pathetic. He wouldn't budge on the matter so I gave up, kissed him goodbye, and left sexually frustrated to meet my friends for bingo and drinks. In my frustration, I left my good luck charm at home which only made me more frustrated. Let me explain this bingo thing. I was recently introduced to bingo on Tybee Island on Friday nights. I'm addicted. I have a slight gambling problem and weekly bingo keeps it in check. Plus they have really cheap drinks, a $500 jackpot, and it really is a good time with the girls. I arrive at my destination fuming. I'm replaying the event in my head and I'm totally confused. I'm without my good luck charm and not concentrating on the numbers at all. I'm sure I had bingo at one point and just didn't notice. Between the encouragement from my friends and two beers  that I had, I decided it would be a good idea to try again. So I sent this snarky text: "Did you get a shower yet?" He said that he had so my reply was "Good. Come over." Turns out that he was drunk at this point and could not drive back to my house. Great. So I decided to go eat instead. As my bingo buddy and I are sitting at the dinner table he texted to see if I won anything at bingo and my next snarky reply was "No, I guess it's not my night to get lucky." Yes, I know I'm a bitter, bitter woman.... So, I ate dinner, had a wonderful time as always with my friend (not "friend"...don't want to confuse you), and started back home. I was miserably full when I got back in the car and it only got worse. It takes about 40 minutes and get home and halfway there I felt just awful. Next thing I know, I'm pulled over on the side of the road in Garden City puking my guts out. What in the world?!? I only had two Coronas, that can't be why I'm throwing up. Then I start freaking out because Garden City will pull you over for anything and let's face it, a woman hanging her head out of her car barfing at midnight during the weekend does not look good. So I close the door and start to drive off when I have to go again. Ok, this is not cool. What is happening to me? I somehow pull it together and make it home. I proceed to spend the next several hours praying to the porcelain god. I was suppose to work Saturday but I knew that there was a low census at the hospital and it was my turn to be on call. I was scared to call in because EVERYBODY knew that I really wanted off this weekend (remember, it was all I could talk about for a month). At three o'clock in the morning I'm debating with myself on what I should do. It would really look bad if I call in but how can I work when I have to ralph every five minutes? I decided to just risk it and pray that I get put on call. Praise Jesus, I got put on call and did not have to go in!!! So I spent all day absolutely miserable. I got some Zofran called in. I'm sure I scared lots of small children in CVS when I went to pick it and some Gatorade up. This was the first time I've actually been sick since the separation and divorce. Of course I had a little pity party. It really sucked not having an errand boy. I actually had to take care of the dog and everything (although she did have to eat Progresso soup because I was out of dog food and not making another trip out). As I'm laying in my bed contemplating how much longer it will be before death finds me I get a text from the "friend". Shit! I forgot he's coming back to finish the door thingy! Turns out, he's already outside. I throw on pants, a bra, and my glasses since the normal "sick attire" of just a t-shirt is not acceptable. I'm just exuding sexiness. I'm sure of it. Not exactly how I wanted this guy to see me ummmm.....ever. Luckily, he brought his cousin so thank God I didn't need to be involved in the process. I explained to them that I felt terrible (obvious by the way I looked) and I got "yea, right" and "bullshit" from them. Being the very nice southern girl that I am I just didn't feel right closing the door and leaving them out there to work. I opened the door leading to the garage, got a pillow, and laid on the floor so I could be some sort of company to them. Again, this is not how I pictured my weekend would go. Here I am, laying on the floor sick as a dog while my booty call is at my house. Less than 24 hours ago I was so excited by the sight him working in my garage. This go around, not so much. Ladies, the cure to horniness is apparently food poisoning and/or a stomach virus (I'm not sure what I had). They finished the job and we hugged it out. (I was shocked he got that close to me.) So I went back to bed mortified that he saw me like that and at the same time really excited I had a functioning garage door opener. I spent the rest of the day forcing down sips of Gatorade and watching movies.

I woke up Sunday morning feeling like a brand new/dehydrated woman. I was still slightly nauseous but nothing a little Zofran couldn't handle. I got on the scale and it said I was six pounds lighter. So worth it! I decided I wanted to go look for an Easter dress while I still felt skinny. (I had originally planned to go Friday but it got bumped for the potential booty call.) I met up with Niki to begin the dress search. After trying on the third dress I decided I needed the stomach virus for about three more days. Ugh! I did get it together and finally found a dress. We spent the rest of the day walking around downtown and people watching (one of my favorite pastimes). At one point Niki asked me if the "friend" was still in town and why had I not gotten in touch with him. He did check on me that morning but I couldn't bring myself to suggest what my plentyoffish.com friend would call an "intimate encounter". I could not bear to be rejected three times in one weekend. Too much for even my huge ego. Plus, after you spend an entire day unable to function properly you start to realize what the really important things in life are and sex isn't one of them. I much preferred to spend the day shopping and hanging out with a friend instead of a "friend".

I do blame my "friend" for several things. I did not win at bingo because A)He did not accept the quickie offer. If he had then I would have been late and gotten I different card and B)I forgot my good luck charm because of my sexual frustration. I also blame him for the food poisoning because if he would have accepted my second offer then I would not have eaten at that restaurant. I forgive him though because he installed my garage door opener and he just too gorgeous to be mad at. I'm a little distraught that I might have to find another "sure thing". He was my go to person and a decent one is hard to come by. 

When you look at the big picture I had a pretty good weekend. I did get to see my "friend" although I did not "see" my "friend". I lost 6 pounds. Score! I've got a brand new garage door opener and it only takes me two seconds to get out of my house as opposed to five minutes! I didn't have to go to work at all. I've got some new dresses and shoes. I got to hang out with Niki and some other friends. I even bought a cute little voodoo doll that is suppose to "kick start my life, give me courage and confidence to get things done".  Here's hoping it works!!

Intro

I decided to write this blog because a book deal seems pretty far fetched. Here's the deal, I got divorced in October 2010 and let's just say that life has been pretty interesting and comical ever since. I had no idea what being single was like. Basically, I went from always being single and not knowing any different to serious relationships and then marriage. So here I am in my late 20's starting over in the dating world. Let me tell you, it's scary out there! It seems like about twice a week something happens and I say "That's it! I'm writing a book." I've already accumulated so many stories in the last six months such as the time I was mortally embarrassed in front of a certain Russian McSteamy or when I was kissing everyone in the streets of Tybee on Mardi Gras. I'm not going to hit you with them all now. This is my attempt to capture my new found journey into singlehood. So sit back and enjoy the ridiculousness. I have a feeling it's going to be going on for a while.

Online Dating Websites:

About a month ago, I decided it would be a good idea to join Match.com. One of my friends hit the Match jackpot and met a cute, successful Marine/lawyer. So I thought, "Why not? What would it hurt?" I came to learn a few things about myself: 

A) I'm very picky when it comes to men. (Don't like you if you are too skinny or too big. Can't be too handsome or too ugly...etc...etc...it goes on and on.)

B) I'm terrible at writing about myself.

C) Small talk with strangers is not a strong point of mine.

I also established several rules and criteria that someone must meet before I am interested. You must pass the picture test first. No pictures can be taken in the bathroom mirror by your camera phone. C'mon! That's the best picture you have of yourself?!? Also, no shirtless pictures. It's dumb. I've recently had to add a new rule. No posing in coffins that are in the back of pickup trucks. It's true. Can't make this stuff up. Once you pass the picture test, I go to the height portion of the profile. You've got to be over 5'9. I know, it's terrible and shallow. But that's the way it is. I've tried going the short guy route and I'm just not a good enough person to overlook it. Also can't be a smoker. So then I move on to the About Me section of the profile. If it's too long, I lose interest. If it's full of misspelled words, I think you are not very bright. If you pass all of those tests, then congratulations! I might not completely ignore you if you were to send a message.

There is a feature on Match that lets you look at the people who have looked at your profile. Imagine my surprise when I'm scrolling through those people and up pops my ex-husband! My jaw dropped. Why in the world was he looking at my profile?!? Was he not aware of the fact that I would know? Why is he even on Match? Ugh! I had to take a shower to get the oogey feeling off of me that came with knowing he was looking at my profile. My little sister said I should immediately cancel my subscription if they matched us together (thankfully, they have not matched me with him). She also said I should join PlentyOfFish.com. Which brings me to my next and favorite story.

PlentyOfFish was free so again I thought "Why not? What would it hurt?" So I sign up. If you aren't familiar with pof.com just think of it as Match's slutty, trashy cousin who is addicted to meth. My first message was from marriedman7691 asking if I wanted him to be my "part time daddy". Awesome, great start! But wait, it gets better. Received this message recently: "I think that we are like minded people. Would you like to go out with me, have some fun, and get to know each other?" For starters, this guy looks like Kip from Napoleon Dynamite only with dark hair. I was curious as to what made him think we were "like minded" so I took a look at his profile. Here's what I found:

Profession: Rich person

For: Intimate Encounter

Interests: just about anything if I get to have sex afterwards

About Me: I would like to have some sex. If you are a woman that I might like to have sex with lets hang out. Maybe we could do other things beside sex something too.. but for right now I just want to have sex and get to know you.. I have found that sex is the one of the best ways to get to know a woman.

First Date: First I would like to have sex. Then whatever you want to do would be way more fun because I just had sex and I am in a much better mood.

How in the world did he know how like minded we were? I was convinced I was hiding how I truly felt.