It seems that the moment things get tough in a relationship is the moment that will expose where that relationship was headed from the begining.  The fact of the matter is that there is no perfect person for anyone — because there are no perfect people.  There will always be tough stuff in a relationship — the question is what you will do with it.

When the relationship gets past the mushy stuff and you have to actually show who you really are, that’s when the relationship becomes more than jut a fling.  That’s when you begin to realize how important that person is to you.  That’s when you start to take risks and recognize the risks that the other person is taking.  It’s when everything needs to be put on the table, or you won’t ever survive the tough stuff.

When I dated, I was looking for a spouse.  I wasn’t dating to have flings with random people or to satisfy myself, but rather to find a mate for life.  I wanted someone who would be there for me, support me, and love me like no one else.  I wanted someone who I knew I could not only just be all those things for, but want to be all those things for.  I am so blessed to have found that person… and I know that a major reason why I found him is because that’s who I was looking for — and that’s who I was striving to be.

FringeMan took me to a Christmas party for our first “date”.  We had been to the lighting of Christmas Tree in Rockefeller Center the week after I returned from Florida, but our first official, just the two of us date, was a Christmas party.  As far as first dates go, it was slightly more than typical.

FringeMan didn’t believe in taking things slowly.  On the way to the Christmas party, he told me that we were stopping by his mom’s house.  Meeting his parents was way more than I bargained for on a first date.  Thankfully his mother was kind and didn’t bring up any ghosts of girlfriend’s past like one of his uncles did at our first meeting.

GrammyFringe & Me

It was at a funeral that I got to meet the bulk of FringeMan’s family for the first time.  His uncle, a man of stature, took my hand in his big one, greeting me with a smile that warmed his eyes and my heart.  A moment later he looked at FringeMan and said, “Is she the same girl as last time?”

I certainly was not!

The warmth in my heart quickly faded as ice-dagger flew from eyes to FringeMan’s soul.

But that wasn’t our first date.  Our first date was the Christmas party with the quick stop to meet FringeMan’s parents.  When we left his mom’s house I suspected that dating FringeMan would be anything but ordinary.  Little did I know how quickly I should expect the unforeseen.  The Christmas party proved normal unless you consider the fact we were seated at a table that included FringeMan’s ex-girlfriend.  In fact, I sat right next her.  Making small talk was as much fun as being bitten by a swarm of mosquitoes.

Is it any wonder that while sipping a diet coke at the Red Robin, a placed we stopped to “talk” on the way back to my house, I told FringeMan that I really didn’t want to date him right then.  I wasn’t ready to be serious.  Besides talking to him over a cheeseburger was like being at an inquisition and I was on trial.  He played both the good cop and the bad cop trying to get me to ‘open up’, reveal my future plans, and unwrap my past from birth to present.

Equipped with too many useless facts from my psychology minor, I tried to unravel FringeMan’s thoughts, dissect his words, and peek into his heart.  I left more confused than ever.

After our ill-fated first date, a day FringeMan still does not think was inappropriate, we only saw each other in church and in a few group functions; however, it was the holiday season.  There were parties including a Christmas party thrown by me.  I subjected FringeMan to Kenny G’s Christmas CD and then made him watch “White Christmas”.  I guess you could say that I was getting even.

On New Year’s Eve FringeMan invited a whole bunch of people to his house for a little party.  It wasn’t the first time I had been to his house.  He once cooked venison for my cousin Jenn and I.  It was my first deer.  The venison was certainly easier to digest than FringeMan’s bachelor pad.  He had black curtains hanging in the windows that were draped with spider web designs and his once white couch was covered in six inches of dog hair.  I would later, clean for him.  Actually it was more for myself than for him.  If I was going to eat from his kitchen and sit on his couch, soap and a vacuum were a must.

He did clean for his New Year’s party.  He actually painted the inside of his shower in case anybody peeked into it.  I don’t think he’d been introduced to Scrubbing Bubbles yet.  I was actually looking forward to New Year’s Eve, but I had spent the previous two days with a stomach virus, so I wasn’t in great shape and I couldn’t eat anything.  I didn’t want to spend the night in the bathroom, fresh paint or not.  I even had my mom bake me a pineapple dream cake to bring.  Unfortunately FringeMan has a food allergy/intolerance/psychiatric disorder towards cream cheese, sour cream, and mayonnaise.  The cake was laced with cream cheese and so he spent the next two days in the bathroom.

My friend Nat innocently wandered into FringeMan’s bedroom, picked up a rose sitting in a vase on his dresser and exclaimed to everyone in the house, “Oh, it’s so nice, somebody gave you a rose!”

FringeMan turned 5 shades of red and a few shades of pink.  The rose was for me.

to be continued…

I know, I  know, the story just won’t end.  Thanks for putting up with me.  For more love stories, visit Musings of a Future Pastor’s Wife.

Currently I’m eating some E.L. Fudge.  Unfortunately they are not double fudge, because obviously those WOULD taste better.  Next time I’m gettin those.  Since I’m totally spent from a day in the sun by the pool this post may be a bunch of gibberish, or it may be the best post ever.

Since I keep having dreams that involve missing trains and trying to recapture the memories with The Dr’s family, I’m starting to wonder what my subconscious is telling me.  That I’m afraid of mass transit and actually miss T-Boo and The Dr’s Sister more than I miss him?  Or that I feel like my life is getting on track and I’m missing those trains for a reason because they’re not the right train?

What are those trains holding?  Memories probably.  I know there’s some stories in each one, not to get all metaphorically metaphorical about this.  But memories fade, trains leave and friends change.  Back in the day, TWins and The Dr somehow always convinced me to drive them out to The Island.  It was usually at two in the morning and I was the only one sober.  Since I still wanted to get back together with him hard core, I always said yes.  Being 20 and naive this worked in his favor.  I think part of me just wanted to make sure he would be ok.  I picked him up always, regardless of what time it was.  Mostly because I thought if I didn’t, then who would?

One of his friends asked me why I still did that a while ago.  This was before The Dr left for med school, or around the first time he came back.  I said that I didn’t think anyone else would look out for him.  I think that our relationship was mostly him relying on me to take care of him but I would get nothing in return, and that was the basis for a long long time.  Oh and we liked to fight and just have sex, have I mentioned that?  I feel like I might not find another sparring partner like him, and that’s probably a good thing.  I think he picked up my drunk ass twice.

This winter when he was home, he was concerned about my driving.  I said to him “I’ve always gotten you home safely.”  Which is totally true, including the time I picked him up from downtown Minneapolis after he got kicked out of Rick’s Cabaret during the spring snowstorm of 2002 or 2003.  Then I drove him back to River Falls to his apartment.  He was passed out the ENTIRE time.  Not just in his seat, but leaning over the center console of my car.  I’ve also put in his contacts for him, kept him from passing out at Cub, made sure he didn’t die while passed out in my car at The Island, listened to him talk about his poop and dated him while he was a band dork in high school.

Guess I just needed to get that out, I’ve been avoiding thinking about him because it’s just not something I want to do.  I want to be excited about any new guys that might enter my radar.  Now I feel like I finally can, because I’m not comparing or holding back because he’s there.

I have had a “healthy” dating life.  (Feel free to submit that comment for the understatement of the year.)  Several people have asked for a chart or diagram so that they can easily remember the usual suspects or my main partners-in-crime.  Before I get back to the next set of filling in the blanks, here’s my version of a cheat sheet:

Boston Christian: My high school love from Massachusetts.  From 1988-1989, we shared a lot of firsts together (losing our virginity, having orgasms and going to prom all come to mind).  We lost touch in 1990 and reconnected 17 years later via Myspace.  In June of 2007, I went to visit him in Cambridge for a week.

Stats: 37, Irish-American, light brown hair and blue eyes, 6’1”, 170 pounds.  Think cute white boy who would easily blend in a crowd.

Why didn’t we work?  The same issues of distance and complacency that plagued us in high school were still present in 2007.

The Diminutive Russian: The guy I moved to DC for.  We met when I was a college intern and dated for seven months.  There were far more tears than laughter with him, especially when I found out how many lies he had told me.  We had sex again a few times in 1997 and 2000, went out for a bizarre dinner in 2004, and ran into each other on P Street this past March.  He’d like to hang out again, but I’d prefer not.

Stats: 37, Russian (hence the nickname), medium brown hair and eyes, 5’6”, 140 pounds (guessing, but he’s petite).  Imagine Little Lord Fauntleroy and that’s The Diminutive Russian.

Why didn’t we work?  Back in 1994, I wanted a solid commitment, and he had way too many women in his life.  Now, I just don’t have the patience for his drinking, lack of motivation, belligerence and depressive personality.

UConn Boy: My first grown-up love from DC.  From 1994-1995, we had a very intense relationship.  I knew that our personalities and goals weren’t good for the long term so I broke up with him, but for years, I couldn’t let him go.  I later learned that he had a coke problem to go with his penchant for way too much booze.  I was an enabler where he was concerned, and he played a lot of Jedi mind tricks to keep me with him.

We dated a bit from 1997-2001, but then I didn’t see him again until 2005.  I will always have a soft spot where UConn Boy is concerned, but by 2005, I had absolutely no desire to date him again.

Stats: 44, black with medium complexion, 6’3”, 300 pounds (about 250 when we first dated) with the biggest calves you’ve ever seen.  UConn Boy played basketball for the school and has a larger than life personality.  His build looks much more like a football player than a basketball player, though.

Why didn’t we work?  In 1995, I was too clingy, and he had drug and alcohol problems.  We had both matured a little by 2001, but not enough to make things work.  By 2005, I was in a totally different place in my life.  With time and emotional distance, The Ex had become just An Ex.

The Chef: We started dating in October of 1997 — two months after my Mom died.  I’m not one for traditional relationships, but that mode felt right with a guy as sweet as The Chef. On our third date, he spent the night, and for all intense and purposes, he didn’t move out for a year.

I had broken up with him several times between May and August of 1998, but we kept getting back together.  When his job transferred him to Cleveland in September, we ended things for good.

Stats: 35, long brown hair with a goatee (at least in the late 90s), warm brown eyes, 6’1”, 190 pounds.  The term, “emo,” wasn’t popular back when I dated The Chef, but it describes him to a tee.

Why didn’t we work?  I think I was drawn to The Chef to be there for me at a time when I was too devastated to grieve my Mom’s death.  After a year, though, I needed to do that — on my own.

Married Matt: We met in 1998 through a mutual friend, Bridezilla, when we were both single, but never felt any chemistry between us.  Then, he got engaged to Katie and we had a one-night stand.  From 2001 to 2003, we had an affair that was full of highs and lows.

I don’t know if I loved him, but I definitely invested a lot of emotional energy in him.  I told him that our affair would need to stop when he and Katie decided to have children.  He kept that information from me as long as possible, but his lies made it easier for me to move on.

Stats: 40, biracial with a light black complexion, 6’4”, 225 pounds.  He had a very buff build when we met, but became lean and muscular over the years from doing triathlons.  I don’t normally date pretty boys (as in, a guy who could model), but Married Matt was definitely a pretty boy.

Why didn’t we work?  I think I’m stating the obvious, but he has a wife and kids.  Oh, and he lies and cheats.  Yeah, that covers it.

Baseball Boy: We met in January of 1995.  He was a freshman in college and the guy I was dating at the time (GWU Boy) had taken him under his wings since he played in the minors.  For two years, Baseball Boy and I frequented all of the same GWU bars until I moved uptown and he left DC to play baseball.

In February of 2002, we ran into each other at Clarendon Ballroom.  We went out on our first date several weeks later and then were on and off (and on and off) for several years.  Our big break-up occurred in the first week of June.  I have already started writing that post, and the thought of what happened still gets me choked up.

We became friends again in late 2006 and stayed in that mode until earlier this year. In February, he sent me an e-mail to stop blogging about him and claimed that he wasn’t commitment-phobic.

Stats: 33, medium black complexion, 6’5”, 250 pounds. Simply put, I like big, black, rough, athletic guys, and that’s Baseball Boy.

Why didn’t we work?  When we started dating, I was still with Married Matt.  When we dated each other exclusively, we lived in different states.  And, as commitment-phobic as I was, Baseball Boy was more so.  He is one of those guys who can’t balance work and relationship (or at least couldn’t do that with me).  When we broke up in June of 2005, he truly broke my heart and shattered it in a million little pieces.  A lot of my friends cringe when I even bring up his name.

Lawyer Boy: In January of 2003, we met at Vida in DC.  We had an instant and intense connection that carried over into the bedroom. 

That May, I found out from a mutual friend that he lived with his girlfriend, Darby.  I ended it immediately, but that didn’t exactly stick. 

I am like a moth to a flame when Lawyer Boy is around, and our attempts to remain solely platonic friends were futile.  Somehow our shared love of anal sex and the law always drew us back to each other.  From July of 2007 to November of 2008, I was his mistress, and our emotional connection deepened.  Last November, Darby found out about our affair.  I haven’t seen Lawyer Boy since then.  I recently learned that Darby is expecting their child in October.

Stats: 38, 6’0”, 180 pounds, light brown hair and blue eyes.  Lawyer Boy reminds me of a cross between Dylan McDermott and the actor who plays Dr. Sean McNamara on Nip/Tuck.

Why didn’t we work?  Hmm…Darby, Lawyer Boy’s lies and the fact that I had been pigeonholed as “The Other Woman” all come to mind.

Philly Matt: We met at a club in Philadelphia in April of 2005.  When Baseball Boy and I broke up, I started seeing Philly Matt.  He was the first guy to help me out with health stuff and the first guy who went away with my friends and me.  For about a year, we made the long distance thing work.

Stats: 40, dark black complexion, 5’10”, 180 pounds.  Philly Matt is very handsome, in great shape and a good dresser.  Any friend who met him would inevitably mouth to me, “He’s Hot,” within five minutes.

Why didn’t we work?  The distance was tough.  He had also expected to go overseas for work for six months, and I wanted to know where we were going if I was expected to be faithful to him during that time.  That whole experience turned me into a nagging woman and him distant and aloof. In the end, we wanted different things out of a serious relationship and are much better as friends.

So, those are the main players in the soap opera that is my love life. I wonder who the next leading man will be !

A woman shall not be a homewrecker to other women. Married men are off limits, simple as that.

Another busy weekend to update all my peeps on.

Friday Night - Didn’t go on the boat ride because it was supposed to rain.   Kinda of happy for that because I didn’t want to have to deal with my crazy family. So I ended up meeting one of my friends at a neighborhood sports bar. I really like this spot. I met a few people that I probably would have never met. Every one was really nice and down to earth. This one lady even told a guy at the bar to ‘Kiss my Grits’.  Whoa!  That was a blast from the past. For those of you who don’t know that saying, it was from a tv show back in the 80’s called Alice. There was a character called Flo that always told people to do that. It was funny back then but not now. But I still had a nice time.

After we left the sport bar, we went down the street to another bar. It was decorated nice but it has been known to draw the wrong crowd. Well we got there early so there wasn’t too much riff-raff at that time. I did enjoy the old skool music that the d.j was playing. Too bad that my GF wanted to dance so we decided to leave and go to another bar.

WHOA! What did I get myself into? This little rinky dink bar that my girl took me too was a HOT MESS. It was deep in the ‘hood’ and I was worried about someone knocking me upside my head and taking my ride. I DID NOT stay there long. I stayed for about an half a hour and then left. That just was not me. I was home by 1 a.m. and decided that bar hopping is not my thing. Oh well, at least I can say I tried it.

Saturday: Went to a free Yoga class with my work out buddy Robin. It was being held at a martial arts academy. I never tried Yoga so it was a whole new experience for me. I really enjoy it. It was not all chanting and breathing. I was using some muscles that I never used before. I felt every last one of those poses that we did. I will most definetely take another class.   After yoga, we went and got some breakfast at Panera Bread and made plans to meet up again on Sunday for our weekly walk around the park.

I was supposed to go miniature golf with the cable guy but he didn’t call me back so I decided to go to a semi-pro football game with my friend Melissa. Had fun at the football game. After game, I went home and went to bed because I was too tired.

Sunday: Today I went for a walk around the reservoir with Robin and Melissa. My body was aching from the yoga class on Saturday, but I know that getting this exercise is important. After I finished my walk, I went to walbreezy and pick up a few things and then went home.

This weekend was fun.   I hope to have many more like this.

Always & Forever Smiling!

Elaina McMillan, CHt., co-host of The Sex and Intimacy Show, shares her expertise regarding ambivalence and limerence in relationships.

Dear Elaina,
I have been seeing this man for about 6 months. He says I am exactly what he has been looking for but now that he has me, he is ambivalent. He doesn’t dislike any­thing he can put his finger on. The sex is great. We talk for hours. more >

**Editor’s Note: So, I got really mad when I didn’t hear from ANYONE after posting this beauty. PSHAW. How COULD you freaders??!! And then, I realized…BB, you? Are a dumbass. Why? Because I never POSTED said post. Clearly, I’m awesome like that. So, uh, enjoy yesterday’s post.  Also….updates on StarbucksMan. We’ve hung out twice, since meeting. True story. (That’s how I roll.) Catch ya on the flipside, I have a test to study for. BAH.**

Things of note, a la bullet point style that I have made famous. (Or so I like to pretend.):

• I had a kickass time in clinical rotations this past week. Definitely solidified I LOVE what I’m doing so much more (x 97bajillion times) than what I was doing before.

• Am stressed for Exam on Monday. Hence going out tonight and drinking copious amounts of wine to relieve stress. Hoping it will not deter my studying patterns all day tomorrow.

• Met cute man at Starbucks today whilst studying. Seriously, these things still happen. After smiling back and forth at each other throughout the afternoon, homeboy came up to me as he was leaving. Whilst handing me a notecard with his name and number on it, he said “I don’t mean to interrupt you, but hi, I’m StarbucksGuy. Here’s my number if you ever would like a study partner.” (Internal Monologue: HOLY SHIT! THIS IS AWESOME! Guys still do this??? Props to him for having the balls to do so! This is cool! And he’s cute! Done and done! Goooood work BB.) We might be meeting up for a drink or after our already similar plans of dinner and drinks with friends (like he said, “I’ll get a hold of you if ‘drinks’ don’t turn into ’shots.’ I have to study all day tomorrow too…”. So far, this shows promise.

• Had 2nd date with boy I spoke about last week. Went well, apparently our 3rd date is on the horizon, which is kinda  a funny story being that I haven’t really been making much effort toward keeping in touch with him as I have other thing on my mind (i.e.: school, school, drinking, and school. Duh.); definitely won him over with my chix parm & homemade sauce. True story. Although, note to friends: do not take Ambien and then reply to texts messages. You WILL think it necessary to volunteer to “whip something up” after a 9 hr shift on the floor, as opposed to ordering in and picking up a bottle of wine. Because apaprently, I think I am Betty F*cking Crocker. Proof that drugs alter your common sense. Drugs are good bad. M’kay?

• After finally watching the movie Slumdog Millionaire (OMG LOVED. LOVED. LOVED.) I have subsequently developed a crush on an Indian medical student that has rotations on the same floor I do. Because clearly, this makes sense. So far we’ve exchanged “hi, how are you’s” and smiles. Definitely on the fast track to busting out the beautiful sari’s for our wedding day.

• Try as I may, I’m really trying to forget about Teddybear. Because despite the fact we connect on ALL LEVELS and are so wonderful together, the fact remains nothing is going to happen in the immediate future and I just need to get over that fact. Hence the reason for listening to Ingrid Michaelson’s new song “Maybe” on repeat. AMAZING SONG. AMAZING artist.

• Speaking of, anyone in the Philly area want to go see her in concert with me in September? Inquire within. Kthx.

• Not really sure why this post managed to go off on a boy tangent, but oh wells. Think that’s my cue to just end this post now while I’m ahead, and this large glass of red wine is still intact.

Peace out and catch ya on the flip side, bitches.

xo, bb

Today I am struggling to find a title for this blog and perhaps within my writing I will find it. My latest inspiration for love and relationship is the wild horse; escaped, strayed or set free from domestication. These horses roam our nation’s wilderness free from the restrictions of man. Their existence fuels feelings of romance and freedom for many artists. Today in current news, some groups want to kill, capture and slaughter these animals for food. I’m not going to debate artistic muse versus food supply, but something a little different.

We speak a great deal about freedom in this country, yet we tie ourselves down with such restricting bonds. We often work twelve hours a day doing a job we don’t like. We pay for services and insurances we don’t need. We purchase expensive products we don’t really need and sometimes due to society and intimate pressures we marry someone who may not be suited to our long term desires and goals. We live for others instead of listening to our own hearts. Where is the freedom?

In contrast many times we ridicule and scold those who chose freedom over the collective will of society. We look down upon the person who wants an average job which gives them free time for travel and other ventures. With so much pressure for the latest gizmo or fashion, we snub the people who choose the simple life and fashions. We mock those who are careless of their physical appearance and we question those who want the single life. There must be something wrong with the person who wants to be free of marital restrictions. They must lack commitment, or we feel sorry they cannot find love.

I can’t tell you how many times I was asked if I had a boyfriend and the surprised look on their faces when I said I really didn’t want one. For a country that boasts ourselves on freedom, we certainly know how to curtail and shun it when we see others achieving freedom. I love my freedom and at this point in my life, I love my freedom more than any man.

So it doesn’t really surprise me when many want to hunt and kill the wild horses-if only they were domesticated and bred by man then these horses will be safe. In a sense it is like saying, if man can’t control it, man will kill it. And you can see how this directly ties to our relationships and lives. If you think independently from your boss, you can be fired. If you limit credit card spending, the creditor will potentially raise your interest rate. If you don’t want to get married, often times a lover will manipulate and threaten with ultimatums. We kill what we can’t control. We need to possess what longs to be free. Why?

The sense of freedom is as individual as the feeling of love. And the desire for freedom can be as strong as some loves. Freedom, however, takes courage and confidence. Those who aspire to freedom can do so because they have the courage and confidence to walk to their own beat with little concern of what others think. It is insecurity and fear that drives possession and control. There is a feeling of envy and frustration when we see freedom in others and therefore in order to save ourselves, we must take freedom away.

Dating and Chronic Illness: Is it possible to be in a relationship when you are chronically ill? (cross-posted at BlogHer Health & Wellness)

As a person living with chronic illness, I was intrigued to read a post on dating with fibromyalgia. I can totally understand how complicated relationships can be – especially when you are living with an illness that isn’t easily recognizable to the average person (an invisible chronic illness). It seems to me that “dating” isn’t the problem, it’s trying to have a “relationship” that can become complicated.

I can totally relate to this post and how in the beginning of a relationship people may see us differently than who we really are. And let’s face it, we want to be that person they think they see. In many ways we truly are that person, but chronic illness steals are ability to stay that person.

Here is an excerpt from Dating with Fibromyalgia…

Eventually, they are going to notice that there is something different. In my case, they really did think I was lazy. Remember fibromyalgia has a great way of making people look perfectly healthy when they are in a great amount of pain. And I did, I looked perfectly healthy besides the fact that I always took naps and I didn’t get out that much.

In the beginning, I would come off as the high spirited, energetic being…. that loved to laugh and socialize. I was only able to do this with several naps and rest. I could only get away with it for so long.

. . .

There are fears that come with Fibro and dating. I have always been concerned that there will never be anyone that is strong enough for it. Sometimes I have had pity parties because I feel damaged to a degree, I can’t help this feeling. Woe is me. I sometimes feel that I am bringing nothing to the table but brokenness but I know this much, my spirit isn’t broken and neither is my heart, Fibro has never stopped me from loving unconditionally. It has never stopped me from having the ability to care. It hasn’t kept me from being an affectionate person. It hasn’t weakened but only strengthened my personality and who I am.

Here are a few more post on dating with chronic illness.

From Pens and Needles – On Dating…

Of course I wondered what the surgery would be like, how the ICD would look, what it might feel like to be defibrillated. But foremost in my mind was a fear that the ICD would make me hideously unattractive to men. “Come on,” I thought. “I haven’t even figured out how to tell guys I have arthritis!”

A year later, I have yet to really put that fear to the test. I took a break from dating for some months after the surgery, and although I’m gradually getting back in the game, I haven’t been on a second date in quite a long time. On one hand, I’ve become a lot pickier over the years, but the truth is I’m also quite terrified of having to explain my health issues to someone I might really like.

From Duana at Love Science – Absence and Illness…

Although there’s not much research that directly addresses illness and finding a lifemate, I want to prepare you for some good news for a change. Because research on other External Barriers to relationships—obstacles that make it difficult to be together, or that threaten to take away the option—does exist. And barriers tend to create a strong desire (in men, especially, some research shows) to get what they can’t easily have. Think of barriers as an externally imposed Hard To Get, and you’ve got the idea.

From Life With Pouch – Repairing the Soul After Chronic Illness…

I have a fear of commitment, but I didn’t used to, not before Crohn’s disease began to chip away at the collection of traits I call Me. It’s difficult when you realize that your disease has changed you, and for the worse. It was only after having ileostomy surgery and beginning to recover from a life of Crohn’s disease that I became aware that I’d developed this fear of commitment. Before Crohn’s, commitment was not one of my issues. Case in point: I got engaged after dating my then-boyfriend for two and a half months, at the age of twenty, and we’re still married twelve years later. But when you have a chronic illness, you learn that you can’t count on tomorrow. Every time you make plans and your body betrays you so that you can’t follow through, you feel disappointed. When those plans involve others, you feel like a flake. I hated that feeling. I stopped making plans with people, or when I did they were fraught with caveats and contingencies. I stopped making plans for myself; it was easier to be pleased if I had a good day and could do things than to be upset that I was having a bad day and couldn’t do things.

You would probably be surprised to know how many people are suffering in silence with chronic illness. It might even be someone you know. Here are a few of them that are blogging about their struggles.

This is from the first post on Sarah Granger’s new site Pain In The Mom. Sarah is Living with Chronic Pain…

Now I’m battling falling back into a depressed state, I want more than anything to be enjoying the summer moments with my daughter, who at 3 1/2 is growing up so fast. I can’t believe I’m here again with this pain. (And this is the abridged version of the story.) Sitting has again become intolerable, the pain itself has shifted since the tests so I’m not accustomed to how to manage it, standing for very long has become a problem, and I have professional commitments that I don’t know how to meet, in terms of physical meetings and conferences. I’m back to taking my life one day at a time, and all I wanted to do was have a consultation.

Homeschooling with Chronic Illness…

I’ve been out of work for two years now because of my chronic headaches and frequent migraines. During that time, I’ve taken over the homeschooling responsibilities for our children. I’ve learned quite a bit during the last couple of years, so I thought I’d share it with some other homeschooling parents. I have realized that these tips are really appropriate for life, parenting, and homeschooling.

Kelli is living with chronic kidney failure and she blogs at Living with Grace – this is from a guest post she did for Shannon at Rocks In My Dryer…

Some background …. I was raised with chronic kidney disease. Undiagnosed with renal reflux in the 7th grade, surgery proved too late to save my left kidney. Years later, after a marriage and 5 miscarriages, I had it removed. Two healthy pregnancies followed, and for the next 15 years I was kidney problem free.

In 2006, I visited the doctor for a routine checkup. And found out my right kidney was failing. After consultation with a specialist, I was put on home peritoneal dialysis in May 2006.

Living with chronic illness is hard. There is not one aspect of your life that remains untouched in some way. There is no more “routine”, “normal”. Everything has a thought, a reason, a purpose.

Ann from MS Maze wrote a post for Care2 Healthy & Green about living with MS – 5 Steps Toward Empowerment…

I’m not one of those people who will tell you that you can cure your multiple sclerosis (MS) with a positive attitude. But I will tell you that your attitude — that is, how you choose to deal with MS in your life — is crucial, not only emotionally, but physically.

It may seem so at first, but a life with MS is not necessarily a life out-of-control. As unpredictable and as debilitating as MS can be, there are some very basic things you can do to take control over this unwelcome intruder in your life.

Bamagal from from Back Across The Line wrote this about chronic illness…

When you first meet someone with fibromyalgia (FMS) and chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS or ME/CFS) you likely have no idea that person is sick. Same goes for people with arthritis, multiple sclerosis, diabetes, heart disease, cancer, eating disorders, depression, endometriosis, diverticulitis … the list goes on and on.

When someone has the flu, or a cold, or an injury, it’s generally pretty obvious by looking at them. We can also see when someone is in a wheelchair or uses a cane, or if they’re hauling around an oxygen tank. Those are the images that come to most people’s minds when they think of “chronic illness” or “disability.” Here are some staggering facts:

• According to the U.S Census Bureau, 96% of chronic illness is invisible.
• Nearly half of Americans are living with some sort of chronic illness.
• 70% of people who commit suicide have uncontrolled pain.

Pain, along with fatigue and brain fog, are invisible symptoms of our invisible illnesses, but that doesn’t make them any less debilitating than visible symptoms.

It’s not easy living with a chronic illness, and it’s even harder to be in a relationship when you’re living with a chronic illness. Do you have a dating with chronic illness story? If so, please share it with us in comments.

Also See:

Invisible Chronic Illness Week

Living and Blogging With Chronic Illness

Chronic Illness: Claims of Cures are often Scams

My personal story One Lesson From A Decade of Fighting Chronic Illness

Somebody Heal Me…the musing of a chronic migraineur

Getting Closer To Myself

Oh My Aches and Pains – My Life With Chronic Illness

This is one of three stories I am posting about my dating experiences over the course of the last 3 years since my divorce.  I am writing this story first because it’s the latest but surely won’t be the last encounter I have with the endless number of crazy ass morally corrupt women that are presenting themselves as sane, employed, single women who are supposedly looking for a real relationship.

This is only one of two stories that I will write in detail about a specific woman and/or encounter and will be bookend with one of my first crazy encounters titled “Ms. Pee Body attorney at law”.   The rest will be summarized and sandwiched between these two stories in one general posting about all the ups & downs and ins & outs (every pun intended) of dating in the current environment.  I should add that because of this encounter I ended up deleting my MySpace profile so with that in mind here we go.

A young woman named Tammi* (age 28, blond hair, somewhat attractive) here in my town sent me a MySpace friend request one day and after looking at her profile I accepted her request, she seemed alright enough to me.  Either that day or the next day we exchanged email messages with each other and it was completely innocent idle chat.  The next morning I got another message from Tammi and in it was her phone number and the following message “call or text me”.    I thought “Mmm a little fast for a woman to do that but okay” so anyhow the following day I sent Tammi a text message and we ended up texting back and forth a couple of times that day and again totally innocent idle benign chat and that was it…..done.

So the following afternoon she calls my cell phone and she says “what are you doing?” I replied “Oh just working how about yourself?” and Tammi replies “I was fingering myself all morning and just got up from a nap!” I was like “WHAT?” and she repeats herself “I fingered myself all morning and had to take a nap and just woke up” and with that I thought “here we go!”.

Tammi then ask what I was doing that evening and I said that had no plans, she proceeded to tell me that she had a couple of steaks and if I wanted to come over (at this point she gave me her address….it was in one of the more run down/low rent areas of our town) she’d grill them out and fix some baked potatoes but when I did come over to bring some beer with me because she had some pot! I was like “WHAT?….You don’t even know me, I could be a cop for all you know”.   She replied “Nah I know you’re ok, just come over we will grill some steaks, drink some beer and smoke some pot BUT…….(here it comes) and Tammi drops this on me “Now if you come over I will need some help with my cable bill, I owe $45 dollars on my cable bill and if you help me I will give you a blow job”.

With all the freaky crazy assed dating shit I have encountered I sat there speechless, finally I managed to mutter and stammer my way through the following…”Uh no, I don’t think so, you I mean we haven’t even met and and you’re inviting me to your house to smoke pot and give me a blow job and we have never even met.  No this just doesn’t feel right to me” and I hung up on her.

Sitting there the only thing I could think was “Unfuckingbelievable!!!!”   Once I recovered from the conversation I naturally had to tell my friends at work who just as naturally had to bust my balls and tell me I was crazy for not going because they all said “you can’t hardly get a steak and a baked potato for $45 dollars much less a steak, baked potato, pot AND a blow job!!”.   Hey what are friends for right??    I told them Tammi was a “friend” of mine on MySpace and as soon as I got home I was deleting her ass,  well it ended up being a race home for me and my friends who wanted to check her out before I deleted her profile!

After leaving work I stopped and picked up McDonalds for dinner….no steak for me!  Once I got home I sat my stuff down and logged into MySpace and blocked Tammi the steak and blowjob queen from being able to contact me and I also deleted her as one of my friends. Well later that evening I was sitting on the couch folding some towels (I live on the edge I know) when my cell phone rang and guess who it was?  Yep Ms. $45 Blowjob herself and she ask “Aren’t you coming over?” Damn twice in one day this chick had just stunned the shit out of me so all I could do was I yell into the phone “Are you outta your fucking mind? Don’t ever call me again!” and hung up on her for the second time that day.

I sat there for a bit folding towels thinking about all the bat shit crazy women I had encountered over the course of the past 3 years from MySpace and decided that this last one was the last straw and deleted my whole page and profile all together. Thankfully she got the message or more probably what happened was that some other dude took her up on the offer.

*Tammi was of course not her real name

I’ve heard that question about 6 times this week. My new goal was to go out and meet as many people as possible and I definitely accomplished that this week! Today is Sunday and since LAST Saturday I’ve gone out every day (with exception of this past Monday/Tues) to a party or to go swimming, what a whirlwind.

Party week started on Saturday when my band played at the Continental on SoCo. GREAT SHOW! I ended up running into this kid who was two years below me in HS. We did Debate, Mock Trial and some other random HS clubs together. I hadn’t seen him in over 5 years and I remember texting my friend and saying, “Hey, this dude in front of me looks EXACTLY like the grown up version of [insert kid's name here].” At the end of the night I got the courage to approach him and ask him if he was who I thought he was, and he WAS. Weirder coincidence is that he works WITH the lead singer in his day job! ha.

Sunday, my friends from Nashville- Pico vs. Island Trees stopped in and did a show at Mohawk. It was the first time I WALKED to 6th st. w00t. They make great music and they’re easy on the eyes haha. Check them out. Naked statue is normally not in the band haha. The boys were in town for less than 10 hrs but we did get in a swim at Barton Springs. Next time, more happy hours & sno cones!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, I continued to unpack my life and reorganize..it was tough. Honestly, Monday and Tues were pretty forgettable. I didn’t get in until late on Tues but that’s because I was working..spending nights at Fed-Ex Kinkos are not the best time, but often necessary. I don’t work regular hours if you didn’t know.

Wednesday I tried to go to the Castle Party. It would have been epic. My friend Adam and I were stoked on the following activities: “karate black belt demonstrations, participatory drum circles, an exotic reptile collection, sleight of hand tricks, international mohawk coiffeurists, bungee lessons, aqua slides, culinary entomologists, medieval weaponry, and a world-class car collection” Bear Gyrlls in da house!??!?! Unfortunately, it was a royal MESS. Hundreds of people were pissed. That is an understatement. I picked Adam up at 6:30 and we drove there to avoid long lines at the free shuttle pick up points. The castle party was an hour away, doors opened at 7, we knew we’d be late but we RSVPed over a week in advance and were sure we’d get in. WRONG. FAIL. and FAIL miserably. You can read about all the problems experienced in the article above but I was on the last shuttle they let in, we got to the gates and were then turned away. People who walked a mile or two from their parking spot to the castle were also turned away (you couldn’t get into the castle on foot)…BAHHH. Ended up at The Ranch, drinking FREE Dos Equis and listening to Miley Cyrus..AHH

Thursday..Yelp Party. Way more successful than the Castle Party..I had to wait in line for an hour to get into the VIP Reception but I actually made it INSIDE. Met up with my new friend Christine. I met her at SXSW at a house party that my friend Alix! told me about. Finally reunited. We had fun, we ate some free Mama Fu’s samples, free Maker’s Mark & Lonestar and *drumroll* free cupcakes from Delish!! Photobooth by Annie Ray! I love Annie Ray and have wanted be in her famous photobooth photos and I was!! There was a fashion show with a drag queen+ burlesque. Met a lot of Christine’s friend and it was nice. Another goal of meeting new people accomplished.

I left the burlesque early to catch Nightmare of You at Emos. GREAT SHOW! Got hit on twice by older men and one dude bought me my merch as I spent money on shots for the band and I..HAHAHA. Weird. I was soo excited for this band. I’ve become jaded. New bands don’t get me excited, old bands don’t get me excited. I made myself get excited for this show and even though were were less than 50 people at this show, I had the time of my life. This band ruled my life in college and I’ve seen them in crowds of hundreds and though this was a more ‘intimate’ show, it really made me remember how much I used to love going to shows and buying merch and talking to the band without overthinking it.

Friday- Went to Barton Springs AGAIN w/ Christine and her friend Kevin. It was glorious!! I needed it. It was really nice meeting new people. The rest of Friday night will have to come later though because it deserves a whole new post of it’s own..

Signing out for now..

In full appreciation of his superior gastronomical sensibilities, Jeff insisted on ordering for me every time.

“I can always spot the best dishes on a menu.  Trust me, baby girl.”

It seems he’d convinced himself I had trust issues and I suppose I do, with those who impose their tastes on me.  Never mind that I was still recovering from my mother’s suggestions about what I eat: as he explained it, I was too inexperienced to know how to make such impeccable distinctions as he could.

“You have to try this.  It’s amazing.”  He brought to my mouth a spoon with some berry compote from his entrée.  We were at the Four Seasons in Boston.

“I’m sorry, I’m so full, I can’t take another bite.  I do believe you, though.  It looks great.”

“Come on, I’ll just give you one berry.  It won’t hurt.”

“But I want to leave room for dessert.”

“So you can spare to take a berry.  It’s practically dessert.”

“No, it’s a garnish.  Please don’t make me.”  Did he want me to get sick at $300 meal I was paying for (or rather, putting on my mother’s credit card)?  But I knew there was no use debating with him.  He was the connoisseur.  And however much Jeff appreciated my having opinions, he got quickly frustrated by my refusal to acknowledge the superiority of his own.  I opened my mouth obediently.

Jeff enjoyed being seen with me in restaurants and, after ruining my appetite, he proudly reported the look of surprise on the waiter’s face when I took the check and handed over my credit card.  Why?  Did he enjoy thinking that the waiter must assume I was a paid escort to be with a man as unappealing as Jeff?  No, he wanted it known we were together.  He insisted I hold his hand when walking with him, though he had to live with the shame and poor taste of dating a girl in panty hose.

When he’d first told me he hated panty hose, I was baffled by his prejudice (what had panty hose ever done to him?), but I also panicked (would he insist I go without them when we were together?).  When the Panty Hose Crisis of 2002 occurred, I didn’t yet possess the resources of courage to tell him the hose were to keep my pad in place and that the pressure relieved my urge to urinate.  But on our first dinner out, when I did wear hose with my slip dress, he must have approved of the dress enough not to care about what was beneath.

That’s not quite true.  He liked me in my slip dress and yet he thought I would look even better in a black sheath dress and pearls, a la Jackie O.

“But it’s not me.”

“Trust me.  You’ll look beautiful, I promise.”

“But regardless, if it doesn’t match my taste, I won’t be happy in it.”

“But I’ll be so happy to see you in it.”

Why did he want to make me into someone I wasn’t?  He probably assumed I might be needy enough to change who I was for his sake.  Thankfully, I was spared from being his Jackie O.; he never got around to buying me a sheath to model for him and I made no effort to buy one myself just to please him—not that his request surprised me.  Jeff wasn’t the first or the last, after first being turned on by my low-cut camisoles and slinky slip dresses, to suggest a week later that I dress more conservatively.  Still, his wish to make me over did irritate and confuse me.  Didn’t it matter that what I wore helped me accept how I looked?  Couldn’t he see I wasn’t dressing for him, but for myself, to appreciate my figure and admire the body I hated in so many ways?  No, there was no point explaining this to him or anyone who believed so wholeheartedly in the excellence of his own judgment.

Perhaps I seem as bluntly opinionated as Jeff was, but I never tried to suggest my preferences were objective or that I had the right to impose my values on others, to educate them.  Jeff, for his part, not only knew how to live his own life: he knew how I should live mine.  And eerily, I sensed he didn’t want me to become just someone I wasn’t: he wanted me to be several people I wasn’t.  For even as he preferred that I be conservative and prim at dinner, he also wanted me to be the topless girl with a ballgag, collar, and leash at San Francisco’s annual BDSM parade.  Umm, no thanks?

Though few people believe me any more, I always have been self-conscious and shy away from any activity that could bring negative attention or mocking.  As such, I tend to be selective about whom I humiliate myself in front of, even including gatherings of drunk, loving, or open-minded individuals.  I may be accused of hypocrisy or prudery for having different limits as to what I will do in public and in private, but the thought of marching in the parade, any parade, went against my nature in too many ways.

Did he expect me to walk or would we rent a wheelchair so he could show me off in my ensemble?  Wait, what would he be wearing?  I envisioned with a quickening heartrate my claustrophobia from the crowds, my exhaustion from the museum-speed walking, my panic at having to wait in long lines to pee, even if it turned bystanders on to watch me wet myself (would someone crawl between my legs to sneak in a golden shower?).  Oh, no, no no no.  That was out of the question.  If I had to wear a costume for him, I would gladly don the sheath dress but no leather or spikes, please.

BF and I were planning to check out ION Orchard earlier yesterday but decided not to in the end. Lazing around and end up getting ready for pool at around 8:30pm. Headed off to our usual pool hall @ Bukit Timah and had a few round of games. Went off at about 11:15pm as BF needs to report to work later.

Wasn’t really into playing pool but BF managed to influence me. Now I even have the urge to buy the cue sticks. Some are as cheap as only S$48! I’m not a pro in playing pool but wanting to own my cue stick’s partly due to hygiene too (outside ones are either too oily or too sticky!). I’m still trying to figure what’s the best way to choose a good cue that suits each individuals. I believe the length, weight etc makes a great difference. If you have any ideas, do share by commenting!

I simply can’t wait to own my own personally cue stick. Gee.

Dating is confusing.

I really don’t know what I’m doing 90% of the time.   Where do you meet guys? How do you meet guys?  How/where do you meet the guys you want to date?  What are you doing wrong? What are you doing right?

And the ever present question – “Why am I single?”

I enjoy being single, it’s fun.  But, after a few years of singledom I’m ready for a boyfriend.  

But, meeting a guy that I actually want to spend more then 1 evening with, is proving to be difficult.  

Most of the time I feel that I am doing something incorrectly in the dating arena ….. that my dad “issues” (that will have to be a separate post on its own) are hindering me.  

I know I’ve got enough good qualities to attract guys to me and I don’t have a laundry list for my “ideal guy” that’s hindering my search ….. so I must be doing something wrong. 

But for the life of me I can not figure out exactly what it is. 

Funny thing is, I know plenty of girls in the same position as me.  Which makes me wonder if it’s one of the realities of Big City Life or if times are just changing and we’re all trying to figure out the new realities/rules without anything to guides us.

My yet to be named book club met last night to discuss our current book “The Five Love Languages”. As with our other meetings we started the night out discussing the book, but by the end of the night we were discussing very detailed accounts of child birth…that was not in the book. Along the way we talked about marriage and there were some very surprising and honest things shared. One member did not love her husband when she got married, another was just ready to be married so the who was not so important, another married her childhood sweetheart, and the rest of us singles just listened…very closely I might add.

Which brings me to today…should you be in love with your mate when you get married? I’m actually not so sure that being “in love” is a necessary prerequisite to marriage. While I’ll admit that it would be nice, but given that many marriages end in divorce, does it really matter? I’ve got to believe a lot of those folks thought they were in love on their wedding day, yet “til death do we part” turned out to mean “til sometime before death we parted”. In many cultures marriages are pre-arranged at child birth, are these people in love when they wed? Probably not.

Is it more important that you find a mate with whom you share common life goals and aspirations…someone with whom you enjoy spending time, even though you’re not madly in love? But that begs the question, what makes you fall “in love” with someone?

Can the in love come after the I do?

Is your relationship stuck in a rut?  Do you feel like you are always doing the same things day in and day out?  Are you bored with the same old routine?  Here are a few ideas that are very easy to do and should give you guys some fun!

Get Physical:  Move it! Go for a walk, maybe play a sport or go bowling or skating.

Parks:  Either an amusement park or a water park or just a park with swings and slides!  Make it fun and just unwind and be like kids!

Visit a Museum:  There are many things you may have never seen before therefore it will give you something new to talk about.

Go to the Zoo:  There is so much to see and do you will definitely have some things to talk about.

Park & Picnic:  Taking a walk through the park and enjoying a picnic allows you to enjoy outside together and enjoy a romantic lunch or supper.

Shopping:  Even if you don’t want to buy anything it is always fun to walk around and look at things.

Just like the title said, these are simple things you can do that don’t take alot of time but they can really give your relationship a breath of fresh air!

A girl shall not make a sudden change of interests, appearances or hobbies in order to impress or be more compatiable to a man. It will never work because it is who you really are that a man will love the most and you will ultimately want to be someone who loves you for you.