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Showing posts from January, 2016

Time Lapse Photography - (My Date with His Future Self)

This actually happened to me several years ago but a good friend of mine was telling about a very similar incident she experienced more recently. Who knew both of us would experience time travel.
When I first started online dating I was fairly naïve. (I would like to think that coincided with me being fairly young.) I do have a basic trusting nature and want to believe the best about everyone. I assumed that what I saw and read on those profiles was the truth. I have since been relieved of those notions. I also was the type of online dater that wanted to give everyone a fair shake. (Naïve, again.) Sometimes it just doesn’t go well. So there was this guy. Let’s call him…..(seriously, I really don’t remember his name.) Ben. Let’s call him Ben.
I was living and working full time in NC. Single mom with two young daughters. Online dating wasn’t as popular as it is now, but I was going to give it a try. I read and reviewed the options. No rash decisions.  Ben had a great profile. Nice looki…

Yes, I’m Really Wearing This -- Part 2 - Here’s What You Can Do With Your Approval Rating

Let me just start by saying that I am fully aware my fashion sense sometimes borders on gaudy with a first cousin to “hmm, that’s not what I would choose”. Most days I am completely OK with that. I don’t always dress age appropriate. I don’t always dress to mimic current styles. I almost NEVER dress solely for comfort. I do try to dress so when I walked out of my house I am unique. I appreciate a well-planned out, organized, color coordinated ensemble. I blame this on my mother. Not ‘blame’ in a bad way, I loved my mother beyond measure. And not ‘blame’ in the sense that I am trying to emulate her. No, I blame her because she chose to dress me like we were living in the Great Depression when in fact we lived on Rich Road in Virginia in the early 70s. (That’s not a metaphor. That’s just the name of the road we lived on when I was a young girl.)
My parents actually WERE raised in the Great Depression. (If you read “Heritage” than you are already up to speed.) It was an extremely difficul…

Heritage

You know when you go to hear a band play and the music is fast and upbeat and everyone is dancing. Then the lead singer walks up to the microphone and says “Ok folks, we are going to slow it down for you now….” And they play this slow song that brings everything into a tender, softer mood. Well consider this entry my slow song. Not romantic, just more calm and hopefully touching. (I waxed sentimental after being snowed in for two days.)
I want to write about my family (parents) today. My family name is a source of great pride to me. I’m quite sure it is the same for most people. We place value on our heritage. I actually looked up the definitions to both legacy and heritage to see what the distinct differences were. Legacy being something handed down through the generations. A trait. Maybe in our family that trait would be stubbornness. Or I could be kind and say tenacious.  I love the definition I found for heritage; “events or processes that have a special meaning in group memory”. T…

Do You "Like" Me? Part 1 - Know Your Approval Rating

Ok. I admit it. I want you to like me. ALL of you. Well, maybe not all of you. But most of you.
Why is that? Why is it so important for people to like us? Accept us? Approve of us?  I don’t like asking questions that I can’t answer. Other than acknowledging it is a universal human condition, it stumps me. Sure, people all the time are heard saying…”I don’t care what anyone thinks” or “If they don’t like me that’s their problem”. Bravado all around. We care. And we do tend make it our problem if we think they don’t.  The pack mentality is strong and there are very few true lone wolves.
The angst begins building in early adolescence. I remember in Junior High (They don’t call it Junior High anymore. It’s Middle School now. What happened there?) passing around Slang Books. To be honest, I didn’t remember they were called Slang Books. I had to ask one of my best friends from that era what they were called. Thanks Sandra! Anyway, for those who didn’t have this ritual, it began with a simpl…

POFA - Hello. My name is Hope and I’m addicted to Online Dating

I was doing so well. My resolve was solid. This time was going to be different. Then we had to go and have a stinking snow day. I got up, washed three loads of laundry, cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom, checked Facebook and my email a dozen times. It was only 10am. *Sigh* Then that pesky little voice in my head started whispering…..You can handle it…. Only a simple little profile…. Everyone else is doing it…. You can stop anytime you want….Just see who is out there…. STOP THE MADNESS!
It’s like a drug. Seriously. I don’t want to do it. And yet I DO want to do it. Maybe if this blog thing doesn’t work out for me I can start my own Plenty of Fish Anonymous; (POFA). J (For those of you who may be wondering, Plenty of Fish is a free online dating site. I have used it off and on for, well, let’s just say a while.) I googled to see if there was such a thing as Online Dating Anonymous. (I know, that’s really, really sad.) Turns out there isn’t. There are sites to tell you how to online da…

Prairie Dogs Are Not House Pets - Compromise VS Concession

If you know me, then you know I am not really an indoor animal/pet person. I wish I were. I know that pets bring an enormous amount of joy and companionship to many. I am just not in that group yet. They stress me out. I inherited this from my mother, so take it up with her if you have an issue. And let’s not start with the hate mail, I love animals. I am just not a big fan of actually owning, housing, or cleaning up after them. Except for the brief amount of time I opened my home to two prairie dogs.
I dated this guy…...Let’s call him……wait, maybe I shouldn’t actually give his real name. I’m not sure what the rules are with blogs. I’m pretty confident that he, nor anyone he knows, will ever read this so I guess it doesn’t matter. Plus most of you already know his name anyway. But to operate on the side of fairness…..let’s just call him Charles. J
Now Charles was an avid animal lover. In fact he actually worked at an animal sanctuary and had his own animal business. He was serious abou…

Are You In?

That question posed to 99.9% of you would seem like a very innocent inquiry. However for one of you, and you know who you are, it stirs up a whole host of  “oh no, what is it this time?”  or  “really…again?”  or  “insert your own SMH comment” . (I just recently learned what SMH stood for. I have seen it all over Facebook but really didn’t know what it meant. Being somewhat old-fashioned (aka squeamish) in the unknown vocabulary department, modern acronyms scare me a little. If I don’t know what it means, I can’t be put off by it. Turns out ‘shake my head’ isn’t very off-putting, so it’s all good.) 
(Are You In?) is the standard subject line to my life-is-falling-apart emails that I send my sister; let’s call her Judy. J  Now Judy and I have a very unique email dance routine we do every week. I’m quite OCD about it. It is her job to email me first on Monday mornings, give her life/family update and then I respond with mine. She lives several states away, so this is our main source of c…

So Here I Go>>>>

The Struggle Is Real. It Is. I know the phrase is generally used in an ironic and humorous manner, which is my ambitious objective as well. But make no mistake, the struggle IS real. The struggle of being single. The struggle to fit in and be accepted. The struggle to make ends meet. The struggle to find my place in the world.  So let’s start with the basics. Since this is my debut post, let me introduce myself. My name is Jackie. I am a middle aged single woman living in the South. Actually I guess it is very generous on my part to say I’m middle aged. Unless I expect to live to be 102, which it pains me to say that I don’t, then I’m actually somewhat past middle age. However, I’m thankful for every year and the wrinkles and gray hairs that came along for the ride. I have been single (as in unmarried) for over 20 years. (I know, that in and of itself is worthy of its own separate entry.) In recent years though I have doggedly (No pun intended. I promise that is the first word that po…