Kindness

For the last week and a half I've had a little problem with a man I met recently. It's one I've never faced before.

Kindness.

We met on Halloween and connected immediately. We were both in costume - him with white and bloody zombie makeup covering his face. We danced and talked and danced some more. I felt good around him. Happy.

We talked about seeing each other again and I said yes even though his face was still a mystery. He had a kind soul - and I didn't even need eyes to know that. 

Since then we've been out three times. Each time we had conversations - ones where we both talk and listen. Two hours will pass over a meal and we won't have had a quiet moment. He's considerate and respectful of me and of others. He opens my car door and rinses off dinner dishes. And he has a strong but gentle touch. 

Most of all I can depend on him. When he says he'll call he does. If he's running late he lets me know. So many people don't, and never care about who's feelings they hurt.

One of the most telling signs of his kindness is his relationships. Friends and family are important. He has friends from his childhood and from recent years, and he sees them often. He enjoys being social and meeting new people. When he went to a friend's birthday party with me he met and talked with everyone there. He's also close to his brothers and parents.

These sound like the simplest things, but people so rarely do them. My ex and other men I've dated cared mainly about themselves - how they could impress people and what they could get from the relationship rather then what they could give. As a result, I don't know how to handle kindness. Its hard to know what to say or do.

What happens when you put two givers together? I'm not talking about doormat givers but rather strong people who often put others' needs first - especially if they're in real need. 

The other day he told me how much he likes me. I told him I like him too, but the next words fell out of my mouth by themselves.

"I hope I don't disappoint you." I immediately wanted to take them back. Disappointing him is the last thing I want to do, but I don't want to seem weak or needy.

His kind response surprised me again. "You haven't been told often enough how beautiful you are." 

From what I've seen so far, he's the one who's beautiful - inside and out.

Love to the single girls,

Addison

I was kissed by a vampire on Halloween

At least that's what I'm told. Halloween night doubled with a friend's birthday party. We had yummy Tex-Mex before the real birthday/ Halloween party at the pub around the corner.

I confess, I had a beer and two margaritas with dinner. I only planned for one margarita but a guy at the bar sent a round over. The margaritas were really strong, and it doesn't take much for me, but I swear on the tallest pile of Halloween candy I can reach I absolutely do not remember the vampire kiss.

Someone told me at my other friend's birthday party the next night that she heard I was making out with the vampire. Then two people said they saw me. I don't not believe them, and I remember the vampire well.  He was nice looking but the eyeliner, hair and costume ensemble looked like he stepped out of Duran Duran in the mid 1980s. And he was way too friendly for my taste.

And I remember everything else well too. I remember having one drink - a vodka cranberry - because the bartender said they didn't have pumpkin-flavored anything. I remember all of the birthday girls' friends I had never met before (the vampire was one of them), their costumes and all of the photo taking. I also remember the fun band and meeting one of the band members - an amazing guy I'll write more about soon.

So if the vampire did kiss me and I don't remember, it had to be one of these that happened:

1) His kiss was so forgettable I blocked it out.
2) It didn't really happen.
3) I was too distracted by the guy in the band 
4) The vampire cast some sort of spell to make me forget

Whatever happened, I'm glad it was only once, and it won't happen again.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Being a free spirit

It's taken me a long time to embrace the fact that I'm a free spirit. Friends back in high school noticed as have good friends today.Society's norms don't matter to me. I do what feels right.

But being a free spirit isn't always easy. It's why I've had some bad relationships. It's why my friends are all so different. Many of them don't conform to what society expects either - each in his or her own way. I tend to adapt to them when we're together, and that freaks some people out.

The main part of my journey to recover from my last bad - and very long relationship - is rediscovering who I am. Freeing my spirit again. But I also want to tame it enough to work.

I'm also learning to not accept situations when people don't treat me well and with respect. But I have a hard time letting people know when things aren't right. I'd rather just accept their behavior and then walk away if and when it gets to be too much. This isn't right though and I'm trying to get better.

There are experiments and missteps along the journey. I've made mistakes. Many of them. Some of them end up on this blog. It's how I process problems and figure out solutions. I'll make more mistakes. I promise. And I also promise to try to deal with them better. And I hope my true friends find forgiveness if I go too far.

Here's to hoping everyone lets their spirit be free.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Sleeping through

Sleep has always been something to do when I'm tired. It usually happens between midnight and 7 in the morning - give or take an hour or two. Very rarely do I miss out on something because I'm sleeping.

Others do though. I saw it happen when I was on vacation recently.

The man in the middle seat on my flight home was chatting with the guy on the aisle who was a pilot for the airline and flying in uniform. It turned out the wife of the guy in the middle was a flight dispatcher, so they talked shop. They talked about the strange flight paths they have to take when they fly non-rev. But middle seat guy was on the flight with me because he slept through his last connection at the gate. He even told the pilot on my row he'd be asleep before the jet reached 10,000 feet.

He was right. But we were still taxiing to our runway when his head started bobbing and  the snores came. We weren't even off the ground yet and nowhere near 10k feet.

On my cruise with my friends a couple of weeks ago, one of the three of us missed a couple of evenings out because she opted for sleep. Those were some fun nights. We made some memories but she wasn't with us and we missed her. She was tired though.

I had to laugh. I was writing a blurb for a magazine about our cruise late one night. I was on the sofa with my laptop. This is what I found on my screen when I woke up:

"We have heard the term “trbe” ay times. It’sttrue ddddddddddddddddddd"

Speaking of sleep, I've missed a little sleep during my Breaking Bad marathon over the last few weeks,Sometimes sleep just isn't the top priority.We can always sleep next week.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

I confess. I'm hooked.

I'm totally addicted to Breaking Bad. Facebook exploded with comments about the show every week during each season, but I had never watched it until about six weeks ago when a friend played the pilot for me.

One taste and I was hooked. I recorded the final season and planned to catch the rest of the series on Netflix.Then AMC had a marathon leading up to the series finale. the 60-odd shows filled my DVR. And it's filled my days ever since. I know I'm addicted to it because I can't make it through a day without watching one. I haven't been going out as often, so some days I can watch a couple. Sometimes I stay up too late. The way each show ends makes it hard to not start the next one.

Breaking Bad isn't just a TV show. It's an epic story that makes me question the character of everyone I know. Walt, the main character, is someone everyone liked at the beginning. Six seasons and just over a year in TV time changed everything. He changed from a desperate man trying to survive to a el diablo who also brought his wife down and put his kids in danger. It makes me wonder what lawyers really do, what's going on behind the scenes at the car wash and where my high school chemistry teacher ended up.

The show helps me understand why I tend to go for the bad boys. I adore Jesse. He's hopelessly flawed and bad luck follows him. He starts out a drug-addicted loser and turns into a hero.

There are four episodes left. Since it's a show full of unexpected twists and turns I don't know what to expect. But I'm going to sleep now and will find out soon.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Consistently inconsistent

A couple of months ago I met a guy. He lives in the next state. And we hit it off over the weekend we met. He made me promise I would call him that week, and I did. I always do what I say I'll do. Since then, we've spent two really fun weekends together 

One thing I really liked about him was that he told me how much he believes in good communications. And we did communicate. During those three days I was at his place, we talked about the relationships we came from, where we are in life and how we felt about each other. We texted and talked for the next week.

Then he went dark. I didn't hear a word for about 10 days. I heard something happened that embarrassed him - something he had to deal with and  he wasn't ready for me to hear about it.

Then he came back. It was like we had talked that morning. He told me what happened and it was okay. I understood. He called me sweetheart and the communication was back. We both looked forward to seeing each other again.

Then we spent an amazing weekend together at my place. We were relaxed. He was affectionate and called me sweetheart. We talked about a couple of weekend trips over the next two months. After his three-hour drive home, he called and told me what a great time he had and he looked forward to the next visit. I did too.

That was the last I heard from him in three weeks. Another communication blackout.

After his visit, he went on vacation and I did as well. We agreed to talk before his vacation, but I didn't hear from him, I texted. Then I texted about the first of our weekend trips we talked about. It's less than two weeks away now but we haven't confirmed plans or bought tickets. I've only texted three times since his visit. Would a phone call be worth while before giving up?

I agree with him that communication is important, but, to me, consistent is part of that equation.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

The worst 6 words a single girl could hea

I think I heard the worst possible six words any single girl could hear at the start of a Caribbean cruise last week. The little getaway was with two of my non-single good girlfriends who are always on the lookout for a match for me.

We hadn't been on the ship for long when I popped down to check the time of our dinner reservation. A man in front of me had the same question. When the maitre d' asked if he was with a group, the man spoke the six horrifying words.

 "I'm with the group of priests."

Only I would be on the cruise with the majority of the single male passengers actually being attached to God.

I shared this with couple of friends who suggested they may not be Catholic priests. To me it makes no difference. I'm not the minister's wife type. 

Honestly I wasn't looking to meet someone on the cruise. It was a girl trip. A chance to relax and have fun away from guys. Perhaps it was a little divine intervention to make that happen.

Love to the single girls,

Addison

What's the best way to let a guy down?

What are the best ways to let someone know you're not interested? I'm not talking about breaking up with someone you've been going out with for months. This is a just a step or two after the first time you meet someone and know right off there's nothing there.

This is what you say to someone after seeing them a time or two. You've spent just enough time with him to see the red flags pop out. Maybe he talks too much about himself. Even if it's interesting talk, I say it's a deal breaker. Then he's the guy that turns into an animal the first moment you're alone together. To many hands!

So what do you say when they call and text about wanting to go out again? I try being busy and hope if I'm busy long enough they'll give up. But my bad date from a few weeks ago kept coming back. I was busy at least three weekends in a row and it didn't seem to matter. He kept coming back.

I want back and forth on what to say. Should I tell him I'm seeing someone else? I kind of am, but is it really any of his business? My friend pointed out that he might get the wrong idea. Considering his ego, he would think if I hadn't picked the other guy I would've picked him, As I told my friend, I would rather spend every night in my apartment with Lucy than with him.

I don't want to be too vague or too bitchy or too passive. So what do you say to end it before it starts?  

Love to the single girls,
Addison

I believe in freedom

I believe adults in America should be free to do what they want as long as it doesn't hurt others. That includes smoking, drinking and eating too much ice cream - and most any of those habits people pick up.

Smoking especially is a common and also very social thing. I've never seen people interact as much as they do in the smoking culture. They'll even ask perfect strangers for a cigarette or a light. Would you ever ask a stranger for a french fry or bite of steak off their plate?

I'm not a smoker, and I truly don't mind when people smoke if they're polite smokers. I have asthma so I have to be careful around it.

Something interesting happened though that continues to bother me a week later. My friend who visited for the weekend recently is a smoker. A polite one. He smokes outside, picks up the butts and never smokes around someone while they're eating. He brushes his teeth after smoking - especially if kissing is involved. He even opens car doors and is a perfect gentleman.

But as polite as he is, there's one really bad habit. Right after sex - like within 15 seconds - he has to have a cigarette. And it's not like the 1940s movies when they could lounge in bed together and enjoy a cigarette. He has to go downstairs, put on clothes and go out on the balcony while I lay there. Alone. 

The first time I didn't think too much about it since he had to work all day, drive three hours and then go out. I'd probably need a cigarette after that day and some hot sex. By the third and fourth time, it bothered me - especially one time when i wasn't done yet.

My unscientific way of measuring when habits become addictions is when they get in the way of relationships. It could be a marriage or boss or family or friends. It could also be a new relationship like this one. We have a great time together, but I  don't want to be in bed alone when I'm not. We'll see how much of a gentleman he is next time.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

The longest breath before the kiss that never happened

This week I had the longest breath I've ever experienced. It lasted four days.

On Sunday, I picked up my long-time friend and first love from the airport. I hadn't seen him in more than a decade, and we hadn't been alone together for longer than two minutes since I was 19. That was when we were in love. Then he went home to England. Time passed and we both married. We didn't break up but we moved on and left things unfinished.

I didn't know what to expect when I saw him. We had dinner a couple of times and drinks another. He hung out with some of my friends and I met a few of his work colleagues. We talked for hours like we had just seen each other. We caught up on life. He saw my home and my neighborhood. He sincerely wanted to understand how I live. I told him what happened with my ex. He didn't understand how things like that happen to people like me.

The sexual tension wasn't strong, but it was there. There's no doubt he's committed to his wife, and I had absolutely no intention nor interest in betraying that. There would be no better way to break my heart - and his.

That four days was like the moment when you hold your breath in anticipation of a beautiful kiss.

But the kiss never happened.

On his last night, I dropped him off after dinner and drinks. We sat in my car in front of his hotel and said goodbye at least four or five times and promised we wouldn't go so long between visits. We hugged each time and kissed lightly on the lips. It was respectful. It was nice, like it's always been with him.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Habits

The other night I ventured out to enjoy a quiet dinner at my neighborhood sushi restaurant. Alone. It was an amazing fall evening and I wanted to sit on the patio and eat while I did some writing. So that's what I did.

Until the annoying man sat down three tables away.

I knew he was going to be a problem as soon as he arrived. The first thing he did was unfold his napkin and shake it. And he did it with the intensity it would take to snap at the most ginormous fly on the planet. But it went straight into his lap. . And the napkin pop triggered about 10 very loud sneezes. In a row. While  I was trying to enjoy my sushi. Gross.

Now that his napkin was in place, he was ready to prep his chopsticks. And he did in a way I've never seen it done before. Usually people will quietly rub them together to knock off any stray splinters. Well, this guy rubbed and tapped them so loud it was like a drummer in a band counting off the next song.

Yes, we see you, sir.

Are these habits? Things he does every day?

My eyes went from my salmon to my laptop screen and back. But you know when you can feel someone staring? Everyone's felt it. And he was. Awkwardly.

Finally the owner sat down with him. They talked about whatever - and the man had a really loud voice. But the owner left too soon.

And the man started talking to me!

"Can you believe what he just said to me?" he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and continued staring at my screen and typing. I had already mentioned him in the text conversation I was having with my friend.

"You look like you're working so hard," he said.

I nodded. "Yes, I am working."

"What are you working on?"

"Something I'm writing." I know. It was a bit of a cop out, but it was none of his business. And yes, I was working.

Then my pone wrang. It was my friend calling to rescue me. Amazing. Some day I hope to reach the point where I don't have to get rescued from men.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

A hard harmony

Yesterday was one of the most emotionally difficult days of my life.

The first half of the day was the end of an amazing weekend with my new relationship - the first beginning of real relationship since the divorce. The first time I've ventured out beyond some quick fun. And the last half of the day was with my first love. The one I started falling for on my 17th birthday and never really got over.

In some odd quirk of life, the two events - the old and the new - met in harmony on the same day.

The entire weekend, I felt like my soul was exposed. I think I hid it well. During my new friend's visited, I focused completely on him. It was hard to keep from being distracted, but we had an amazing visit. The two of us get along so well. We shopped for things to decorate his new place and went out at night. And we stayed in too - catching me up on Breaking Bad season 1 just in time for the series to end, and the sex was really nice. We're comfortable with each other. He's easy going and gets along with most anyone. I like us together.

There were about two hours between visits - just enough time to try to pull myself together emotionally. But how do you prepare for a visit with your first love that you haven't seen since your honeymoon and who's now married and you're not?

Throughout the evening, I did my best to focus on the moment and not let my head go anywhere else. I picked him up from the airport and took him to his hotel. We had dinner and drinks afterwards until jet lag set in. The conversation never lagged. We talked about our visits with each other and caught up on the past decade-plus since we saw each other last. I asked him if he's happy and he said yes.

Today I'm an emotional wreck. Scattered. I try to concentrate on my work but end up staring out the window or pacing from one end of my little loft to the other. I'm filled with questions - all of the ones I wanted to ask last night but couldn't. Why do you want to spend every minute you're not sleeping or working with me? Does your wife know you're seeing me? Why do you really not want to see my sister - your good friend who lives 10 minutes from your hotel? Have you held on to that love all these years like I have?

Depending on the responses, I might get closure. I can handle it if he has totally moved on. On the other hand, his answers could leave me even more vulnerable. I have a hunch he still has feelings for me. If I hear it from him, my heart will break.

So I won't ask.

I added more time onto my jog this morning to burn off the tension, but that didn't work either. I'll try to make myself work and then write. But perhaps staring out the window is better.

Seeing my first love helped me realize something I've struggled with. For years I've wondered if I've changed - why I habitually pick the wrong guys. He reminded me that I haven't. I knew then who the right guys were and where to find them. I just seem to pick the wrong ones.

I'll see him at least once or twice before he goes back to home to Europe on Thursday, so the drama isn't over yet.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Do you have a narcissist in your life?

Lots of people do. A parent, partner, brother-in-law, boss or child. My brother-in-law and my ex are narcissists.  They're usually men, but not always.

They do always make your life hell.

I didn't know my ex was a narcissist until I saw a therapist. I needed to figure out where I went wrong - and how to get out of it alive. After I told her about him and our relationship, she pegged his behavior as classic narcissism. 

She recommended a book called Malignant Self Love: Narcissism Revisited by Sam Vaknin that changed my life. It’s such a great book because it’s not written in medical terms since it’s by a PhD who’s not a mental health professional but is a narcissist. It’s written so that each chapter answers a frequently asked question. A few of the chapters dedicated to a question are:

How to Recognize a Narcissist

The Narcissist in the Workplace

The Spouse/Mate/Partner of the Narcissist

Narcissists and Children

The Extra-Marital Narcissist

Surviving the Narcissist

But there are 101 frequently asked questions. Yes, 101. There's a chapter for every situation you can think of. There are excerpts from the book on PDF on Smashwords. Amazon has a Kindle edition and the paperback.

Over the weekend, I shared the book title with two friends over lunch. Both have narcissistic brother-in-laws. I got an email back from one of them today that gave me chills. She passed it along to her sister who got it right away and found it helpful. Her sister's ex left her a voice mail at her office threatening to run her over. Fortunately they live in different states, but that doesn't make it any less frightening. Her sister called her the night before because she was having an anxiety attack. She felt like someone had been following her. Then that message from her ex was waiting for her when she arrived at work. 

One of the friends asked me why I let the marriage go on so long. I told her I was afraid to leave. The other friend, the one whose sister got the book, said she was amazed with the similarities in her sister's and my situation. 

The book explained so many mysteries for me and helped me leave. I hope it does for you.

Love to the single girls,

Addison

The truest test - seeing my first love

This morning I woke up to a text that was a shocker. It was from someone I've known since high school. The one I wrote about the other day as my something borrowed. My storybook first love.

He's going to be in town on business next week.

We met in a pub in England when I was celebrating my 17th birthday with my friends. He was very cute, and at the time he was 21. He and I, along with my sister and his friend, hung out as good friends the rest of the eight months we were there. Over the next two years, he visited the U.S. twice and our relationship grew to a romance. I was young and inexperienced and he was gorgeous and English. Why wouldn't I fall for him?

I still have the vivid memory of us standing in the hallway outside the bathroom in my parents' house. He wrapped his arms around me and we kissed. Then he said, "I love you." That wasn't the last time he said it. I hung onto those words even though the Atlantic Ocean and marriages kept us apart. I even wrote him as the love interest in my first novel.

I told my friend about it this morning. She suggested I should be on the other side of the United States. "You don't need that drama!!" she said.

To add to the drama, he arrives at the end of my new guy's first weekend visit - the one I really like. The whole scenario makes me want to stay inside the safe walls of my little loft with Lucy until then. I'm not sure I can handle what will happen over the next week, so any new drama and I'll be an emotional basket case.

My English friend and I are still friends and keep in touch by text, email and phone calls a few times a year. We've seen each other twice since my teens. Once I visited him and his wife alone. The next time was my honeymoon more than a decade ago. His wife is much nicer to me when I'm married. Actually, I think she despises me when I'm single.

My friend also said, "This has heartbreak written all over it!!!" She's right. I can't wait to see him, but avoiding the broken heart will be one of the hardest things I've ever done.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

It's got to be a sign

The funniest most bizarre thing happened yesterday morning while I walked through the parking garage to my client's offices. 

My shoe broke.

That by itself isn't that funny. What's so bizarre is that almost exactly one year ago I was with this same client wearing these same shoes and the heel broke. I was at their conference and I popped a balloon with my heel as a part of a breakout session activity. I wrote about it last year in I popped a balloon and became Cinderella.

I replaced those shoes with the same style and color, but the only pair close to my size at Nordstrom worldwide was a half size larger. One of the replacements was the shoe that broke today. 

These aren't cheap shoes. They're Michael Kors and cost in the $150 range.  And I have four pairs in different colors because I like them so much.

Now I can't help but wonder if this is a sign. This is my least favorite client and my favorite shoes, so perhaps the relationship is breaking at the very foundation - the soles of shoes. Perhaps it's time to move on. Or it just means I should wear different shoes.

The story has a happy ending. The shoe that broke last year was the left and today it was the right. Since I kept the good one, I now have a pair again. And I haven't popped a balloon with a heel since.

Love to the single girls,

Addison

Something old, something new, something borrowed . . .

This old saying isn't just for brides. I know because I woke up this lovely Monday morning to texts from three guys from various chapters of my life - something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue (well not yet on the last one, but it's a matter of time).

My something old was a text from an long-time lover - the one I've written about many times (most recently in Resolve). He had a significant role in helping me gather the confidence and courage to leave my ex. I'm forever grateful to him for that. But, until his drive-by text early this morning, I hadn't heard from him in a month and that makes me sad. He said in the text, "Just thinkin about u." I do miss him though.

Something new is the guy I met a few weeks ago when he came down to help my good friend move. Meeting him was the only good thing that came out of her move to the next state. He texted about his next visit - hopefully this weekend.

Something borrowed is an interesting situation. He's my first love. I met him on my seventeenth birthday when I lived in England, and we've kept in touch ever since, but typically not more than once every few months. I've visited twice - once alone and once with my ex. Our friendship has survived my many loves and breakups. He married the woman he met after me - happily, I don't know. Now they have two kids. That's why I consider him borrowed. I have a HUGE update on this one that I'll post about soon. The text did something odd and I didn't receive what he actually sent. It's a shocker.

My blue hasn't happened yet, but I suspect it will soon when my bad date guy texts next. He doesn't seem to get that our date was a disaster, so he keeps texting and I keep being busy. I'm blue when I get this texts and he's probably blue when I don't respond. Well, maybe not.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

P.S. My blue did actually happen yesterday afternoon, but it wasn't from bad date guy. It was a text out of the blue from a guy I met very briefly walking down the sidewalk in my neighborhood. I'm not sure why I gave him my number. I was tired and in a rush and just did. He's texted one a week or so for a month now without any response from me.  

Lost identity

Over the weekend, I got to do something I love with people I enjoy. We were all fiction writers who came together to learn. Our companies didn't pay our way and we all gave up valuable weekend time to learn. We were there because we wanted to be.

Being there made me think about all of the people who give up things they used to enjoy when they were single but quit doing them once they had family commitments. Jobs, careers, daily exercise - or other things they're really committed to like music, art or writing. Some had to drop things they love because they honestly din't have time. It's all about priorities, and many girls can scale back on their children's activities so mommy can have a life.

What really breaks my heart is when I see a single girls settle into a relationship with a boyfriend and completely adapt to the boyfriend's life. Their schedule. Their hobbies. Their friends rarely see them and suddenly the brilliant painter has stopped painting to take up golf. "He wants us to do it together" or "He doesn't like it when I'm away from him." she'll say.

Sometimes it was a hobby but sometimes it was a career. But why? Why does any girl have to stop doing something they feel is important just because someone else suggests they do? Just because someone may not be getting enough attention?

Doing what you love is the best way to keep your identity - and your happiness.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

Staring

The other night I sat alone for a while writing at a cafe on a somewhat busy street corner. It was evening commute time. At the same time, pedestrians were busy with their evening jogs and dog walks. The sidewalks and streets buzzed with activity.

What fascinated me was watching people in the cars stare at people jogging and walking their dogs. Car after car turned the corner and, as the drivers stared, their tires scraped the curb or they barely missed the car facing them waiting to turn. To add to the chaos, a few talked on their phone while they stared - and tried to drive. Those people were a real disaster.

I sat there and laughed. When my friend arrived, he didn't notice, but I pointed out each driver who stared.

Why does it take so little to catch someone's stare? Do they think we don't notice? Are we that starved for entertainment? Do we have to have visual stimulation every second? How would they feel if that girl being gawked at was their girl friend or wife or daughter? Or maybe they're all so obnoxious they don't have any girls in their lives.

Then the next morning while I jogged, a truckload of landscapers drove up the street next to me. The truck moved exactly at my speed - and I only do about 6.4 mph - not exactly the speed a truck would normally drive. They did this for about two blocks. I refused to look over. One time they even stopped when they got ahead of me. That one was beyond annoying. It was just plain creepy.

Love to to the single girls,
Addison

I'm afraid to listen

Last night I got a text from the guy I had the disastrous date with weekend before last.

"Hi there!" the text said.

I didn't respond because I was in the middle of dinner with my friend. Okay, I probably wouldn't have responded anyway. To rationalize it, the text didn't ask a question or really need a response. Right?

Then he texted again first thing this morning. It was the first contact (besides a few emails delivered during the night) I had with a human today.

This one said "Good morning :)"

This one didn't ask a question or really need a response. And I dove into work as soon as I woke up anyway - too busy for personal stuff. But then about 45 minutes later, he called. I watched my phone ring. His name was splashed across the screen, and I ignored it. He left a voice message and I'm afraid to listen to it.

I thought I could let it sit for a bit while I did some work and then I'd be okay listening. Then after my run I'd listen. I didn't, and I still haven't. I don't like confrontation. And I certainly don't like telling someone I'm not interested in them. But I also don't like lying to him about why I don't want to see him - or even communicate with him. He's clueless the evening was a disaster, and I have a hunch he won't go away easily.

Maybe writing this will make be brave enough to listen. I'll update this when (and if) I listed to it. Promise.

Love to the single girls,
Addison

P.S. So I listened to the message. He wanted to make sure I got the texts and said he'd call me tonight. So...what to say...

Leaf blowers

I've never really understood the purpose for using leaf blowers. All they do is blow leaves and grass clippings off of one piece of property onto another or into the street. Unless someone picks up what's being blown around they just move stuff from one place to another.

Then it hit me this morning while I watched workers blowing leaves. Some people are just like leaf blowers.

They blow their drama, their problems and egos around transferring them from one place to another but never making them go away.

Some people I know use girls night as a therapy session. They create drama and problems in their lives then it all gets spread around to other people. If a person's not going to solve their own problem, how can someone else do it for them? Seriously?

The other day, a woman who had committed to take part in the event I'm in charge of backed out.  She got her big-girl panties all twisted up because she wasn't getting enough attention. She blew her ego around so much that she ended up packing up her toys and going home.

Bye-bye.

I don't understand these people or how they get away with blowing their bullshit from one place to another rather than cleaning it up themselves.

Love to the single girls,
Addison