S: Days of Birth

And so the day arrived. Guy’s birthday.

Clearly I was the only one who had been looking forward to it. He definitely was not. He’s been struggling a little bit with the whole age thing. I have assured him that he is very much still in his prime, but even so…a big number looms in the not-distant-enough future.

I had some plans for the day. I wanted to make it special for him. I love birthdays. I love making birthdays a good day for people. I have fun finding the right gift and planning how the day will go.

But sometimes the day doesn’t go as planned. And then I get disappointed, even though it’s not my birthday.

This day did not start well. A typical frustration over a typical event (topic for a later blog). Not at all what I had in mind or planned for starting the day. So, I tossed his first gift at him unceremoniously. It wasn’t the big gift…although, big for me. It was a key to my house. He now has unfettered access to my domain.

I trust him, so I’m totally o.k. with it. Really…I am. But it’s still a big step for me.

I left shortly thereafter, in a dour mood. Feeling bad about the way his day started and wondering why we were in a funk. Things had been a little weird for a few days. Both of us inexplicably on edge and overly sensitive about things.

Perhaps our cycles have synced up.

I left a card in his car for him and went home feeling down. I waited for the text telling me he had seen the card. Would he say anything? I wasn’t sure. He’d been rather annoyed with me.

But it finally came. And was sweet. And included love.

Phew. The day was getting better.

Shortly after, I sent the 2^nd gift. We had been talking about a website as kind of a joke, so I actually purchased the domain and set up a blog site for him. I wasn’t sure I was going to get it done in time, but I figured out a simple way to do it and actually got it up while at his house the night before (with him peeved at me in the other room).

I wasn’t sure when he would see the email, knowing he often gets caught up in meetings during his work day. Still, I waited. What would he think? Would it be funny to him? Would he even notice?

Not too long later, his reply showed up in my inbox. He thought I was cute and crazy. Which is a fair assessment.

Excellent…gift 1: success; card: success; gift 2: success. Even with the bad start, perhaps I could make the day o.k. If I didn’t screw anything up.

But the day was still young and there was plenty of time for me to screw things up.

I had plans for seeing him and having some fun together after work. And more and more I was getting the impression that he did not have the same plans. So I sent an email specifically describing the evening I wanted to treat him to.

No reply.

His son had a game in the early evening that I had been hoping to go to, but I know how Guy feels about awkwardness with me and his ex at the same event. So I had been told not to worry about going to the game. Under the guise of giving me the time to do other things. As if a favor to me.

Uninvited. Some favor.

Not going to the game was quite disappointing. Fortunately, the final verdict came down while I was on the elliptical, so I was able to sweat out my frustration. I’m pretty sure I sweated out frustrations I haven’t even had yet. But I still felt bad.

Of course, I had to remind myself that the day is not about me or what I want to do…it’s about him.

I had hoped to take Guy out for dinner and drinks after his son’s game, but at some point, he texted that he was eating. Ok…no dinner. Also, he had been to the doctor and is not supposed to drink. Ok…no drinks. Or participate in any strenuous activity. Ok…no fun stuff.

Not at ALL what I was hoping his day would turn out to be.

But it’s not about me.

Eventually he told me he would just call me after the game and let me know what he wanted to do and when he wanted me to come over. I got the impression that I was not on the top of his list for the evening. Here I wanted to show him a good time and he had other things to do.

I had come home early to get my workout in and his final gift ready and left the evening open for him. Now I had nothing to do. And I was feeling back-burnered.

His birthday…his plans. Getting over it.

So I waited.

Then the call came. Instead of putting me off for a while, which is what I was expecting, he wanted me to head over right away. This was good. He wanted to see me, and not as an afterthought.

Back on the upswing.

I hurriedly got my stuff together and left. Then turned around and went back to feed my cats. And left again. Then turned around and went back to get my phone. And finally left a third time, for good.

I had one stop to make…for a birthday treat, because no good birthday is complete without a treat. Of course, apparently it was everyone’s birthday because the place was packed full of people picking up treats.

Tick tock.

I had caused trouble with Guy by being delayed in getting to his place the night before (getting a gift for him, of course), so I wasn’t really interested in a replay. Not this day. Not after things were getting good again.

Finally, I made it to his house. He was in a way better mood than he had been that morning. He even apologized for being a crabbypants when we woke up. I gave him gift number three, which was deemed to be too expensive, but was actually much better received than I expected. That means he liked it.

Gift giving skills…still got it.

The evening was laid back and I surprised him with his final gift…his delicious, frozen dairy birthday treat that took me way too long to get at the store. It was much appreciated and seemed to hit the spot. And explained my tardiness in a sugary, well-worth-it way.

And then I messed up. In a huge way. In a way I mess up all the time. In the way I have been messing up for three days straight. The one thing I had intended to do for him all along…bookending the day, I did not do. Because…I can’t even explain why. This caused a rather negative discussion the following morning. (Again, the subject of that future blog.) And basically, ended his birthday, the day I had wanted to make special, badly. Like, I’ll-never-hear-the-end-of-it badly.

He says he had a good day. He liked his gifts and appreciates what I did for him. But the absence of this one thing is disappointing to both of us and definitely what we will both always remember about our first birthday experience together. And it was my fault. And I have no idea how to ever make up for it.

Maybe for my birthday he’ll leave a skinned puppy on my front step and we’ll be even.

J: More Thinking

Bestest Guy Friend and I got the chance to go to lunch together today.

Somehow the subject of that scene from “Up in the Air” came up and I shared with him how much it had affected me. The sadness of recognizing the way expectations change. The loss of giving up on ideals. The fear of settling. The young one’s pride in thinking she had the world by the tail. The hope that when it happens it wouldn’t feel like settling.

While Bestest Guy Friend could understand where I was coming from, he offered up the idea in a slightly different way: While we “settle” more regarding some things as we get older, we also settle less on other things.

When I was engaged to my ex-husband, the fact that he didn’t want kids (and I did) didn’t matter that much. He’d surely someday change his mind.

It didn’t matter that his big ambition was to be a writer. Or an inventor. Or a musician. (Depending on the day). He’d surely someday be famous.

It didn’t matter that he jumped from one job to another. He’d surely someday find a boss who finally ’got’ him.

It didn’t matter that he went through money like it was going out of style. He’d surely someday make enough money to get us out of debt. (He was going to be famous, remember?)

It didn’t matter that he lied to our friends & family. He surely wasn’t lying to me.

Besides, those things…they were all “little” things. Things I could easily change about him…surely.

Riggggghhhht…

(These are just a few of the reasons I’m the “divorced one” on this blog.)

Granted…I was married at twenty-one. TWENTY-ONE! I had no clue what I was getting myself into. Now that I’m in my 30’s, I have already (without even realizing it) made some very different choices.

It’s not okay if I can’t respect him or his choices. It’s not okay if he doesn’t have enough ambition to support himself. It’s not okay if he’s unreliable or breaks his word. It’s not okay if his passion is video games or drugs or alcohol or strip clubs. It’s not okay if he doesn’t want kids or hates dogs.

No matter how cute he might be.

Looking back, when I consider all of the important areas where I was willing to settle at 21, I have a feeling “shorter than me” won’t seem like such a deal-breaker when the truly important things are there.

S: Upchuck Update

First things first, my apologies for the title. I couldn't help myself.

I stayed up all night while Guy tried to rest, to make sure he was o.k. I even went to get him some yummy pink tablets to chew at 3 in the morning. Then I helped get his son off to school at 7.

He's still feeling pretty bad. And now I fear I have set a high bar for myself for any future illnesses. Based on my behavior during this first trial, I will always have to be the attentive, 24-hour nurse.

Let's see...I think I'm o.k. with that.

The key is to keep him well.

S: We Are Sick Puppies

Guy and I are currently in the midst of our first real relationship illness.

Not an infirmed relationship, but actual, physical, hazmat-worthy sickness.

I started it. I think. We’re not really sure. But the truly icky stuff started with me.

The night it began, I received proper doses of sympathy…via the phone. And he was even sweet enough to drive to my house with soda and crackers at 1 in the morning after I had been turned inside out by the microbial monster inside me.

Food poisoning? Virus? Targeted warfare? Who knows?

He felt bad for me and generously drove to me with comfort foods in the middle of the night, but he wasn’t taking any chances. When he arrived with the reinforcements, he was again sympathetic, but stayed well away and kept his mouth and nose covered with a napkin.

He hates being sick. Especially in such a manner. He wanted no part. I didn’t blame him and didn’t want him to catch what I had, if it could indeed be caught. So I thought nothing of his distance. Keep away is what I would say.

The following day was spent pretty much useless on my couch. I attempted to get some work done between visits with the porcelain god, but was rather tired and couldn’t focus. By then I had developed a fever and wrote off the food poisoning theory. I had also developed a deep frustration for being laid up and not having an appetite. And the bathroom…I was very tired of the bathroom and the activities therein. One cracker should not cause such horrors. It ain't right.

I am not good at being sick.

Still I received concerned texts and calls and apologies for the lack of visits. But I understood. I didn’t want him around. I didn’t want to get him sick and he REALLY didn’t need to experience me in this state any more than he already had.

The next day, I was pretty much over whatever I had…mentally. Holiday weekend. Gorgeous weather. Cabin fever. Sheila will be sick no more. And, really, I was feeling better. The actual fever was gone. I could eat 5 crackers instead of just 1. No bathroom events. I even mowed the lawn. Slowly. Obviously, I will do all in my power to talk myself out of being sick. That's how much I can't stand it. Being sick is dead to me.

So, by day 3, there is no more sick...there is only well.

This meant party time. I got myself cleaned up and perked up and headed to a couple of parties with Guy. I took it easy. I hadn’t eaten anything but some toast and a few crackers all day, so I just stuck with water at the first party. When that and the day’s other foodstuffs seemed to sit ok in my system (and my self-imposed Jedi mind tricks seemed to have worked on the inner demons), I got over-confident and had a beer. Well…2. Over a few hours.

Oops.

System breakdown. Not good.

The system was still broken down the next day. Although not as badly as it had been. But still, potty problems while camping (yes…camping) are never good.

I faked being well as much as I could, but eventually had to ‘fess up to Guy that the situation was still not normal. He was slightly annoyed that I had let him kiss me for two days while I was still sick, but I told him that at the time I really thought I was past it (which was true, I did...I thought it was over). But clearly wasn’t past me. He dropped it.

Guess who’s sick now.

I’m at his place. Keeping watch. Comforting. Fetching things. Not being of much use really. But he wants me around because his son is here and he feels better if I’m here…just in case. And he's going to need help in the morning getting him to school.

I asked if he was mad at me. He says he’s not. He doesn’t seem to be. In fact, at some point, while he had his head in my lap and I rubbed his back, he commented on how little bedside attention he gave me compared to what I was giving him.

Another new thing for me. Bedside manner. I’m not that good at it. I mean, I feel bad when people are sick, but I grew up with “quitcher bellyachin’…yer not hurt,” so I don’t coddle much. Maybe it’s because I feel bad that I most likely passed this on to him because I was too stubborn to just stay home for another few days. Maybe it’s because I just had it, so I know what it’s like. Maybe it’s because I know he doesn’t get sick very often and isn’t being melodramatic for the sake of some attention.

Maybe I’m getting soft because I love him.

Maybe.

I will tell you one thing…dude is still effing hot, even when he’s been yarfing. It’s kind of unbelievable.

Is it ok to take advantage of a sick man in bed?

No, Sheila! Bad, Sheila! You are one sick puppy, Sheila.

Prepare the sponge bath.

S: Bad Blogger

Hi. My name is Sheila and I am a bad blogger.

I have no excuse.

If you could just read the blogs I compose in my head every day, life would be simpler. If there was an app for that, I'd be set.

I am constantly pondering my relationship with Guy, which distracts me and makes me forget things and mess things up and be a regular dumbass sometimes, but what it doesn't do is make me sit down and tippity-type out my thoughts.

Which I should.

Here's what I owe you...

- birthday fiasco
- moratorium on sex
- sick
- camping
and the big one:
- religion

This week, you will get all of these posts in some form. Currently, I am composing at 1:27 in the AM. If that's what I have to do all week to get caught up, then that's what I have to do.

You have my permission to email dateclubsheila at gmail to pester until I get it done. My Date Club sistahs may text me. (Yes, Jane, you can text me again...I'll be nice).

Who knows if this stuff is at all interesting, but a blog is for logging life on the web. The web does not exist inside Sheila's feeble little mind. Logging life in Sheila's mind is pointless.

As is referring to ourselves in the third person. But Sheila isn't planning to stop that.

Annnnnnd go!

J: Deep Thoughts From the Movies

Just watched the movie “Up in the Air" and was really struck by the following scene:

Natalie, in her mid-20’s is bemoaning the loss of the jerk she had been dating. She’s having a conversation with Alex, who is somewhere in her late 30’s/40’s

Alex: You really thought this guy was the one.

Natalie: Yeah, I guess. I don’t know. I could have made it work. He just really fit the bill.

Alex: The bill?

Natalie: My type. You know, white collar. College grad. Loves dogs. Likes funny movies. Six foot one. Brown hair. Kind eyes. Works in finance but is Outdoorsy, you know, on the weekends.

I always imagined he’d have a single syllable name like Matt or John or…Dave. In a perfect world, he drives a Four Runner and the only thing he loves more than me is his golden lab.

Ooh…and a nice smile.

How about you?

Alex: Huh, let me think it over for a sec.

Well...by the time you’re thirty four, all the physical requirements are pretty much out the window. I mean you secretly pray he’ll be taller than you.

Not an asshole would be nice? Just someone who enjoys my company. Comes from a good family - You don’t think about that when you’re younger.

(thinking)

Wants kids…Likes kids…Wants kids. Healthy enough to play catch with his future son one day.

Please let him earn more than I do. That doesn’t make sense to you now, but believe me, it will one day. Otherwise it’s just a recipe for disaster.

Hopefully some hair on his head…? But it’s not exactly a deal-breaker anymore.

Nice smile… Yep, a nice smile might just do it.

Natalie: Wow. That was depressing.

I should just date women.

Alex: Tried it. We’re no picnic ourselves.

Natalie: I don’t mind being married to my career, and I don’t expect it to hold me in bed as I fall asleep. I just don’t want to settle.

Alex: You’re young. Right now you see settling as some sort of failure.

Natalie: It is. By definition.

Alex: Don’t worry, by the time someone is right for you, it won’t feel like settling…And the only person left to judge you will be the twenty four year old girl with a target on your back.

Annnnnnd, scene.

So...why am I sharing this? Why did it strike such a chord with me?

I think that for a while now, I've been struggling with the thought of "settling". I've been looking back on how much my expectations of the "perfect guy" have changed. Something in this dialogue has captured the essence of how I've been feeling lately, much more eloquently than I've been able to express.

While it's depressing that my expectations have changed so much through the years, I can also see that they're much more realistic than the ideals that I held in my teens and in my twenties.

I really like that last line...that it won't feel like settling, once I find whoever "he" is.

From the vantage point that I'm sitting at right now, that's hard to see. I have to just have faith that when the time comes, it will honestly be the case.

J: Memorial Day To-Do

Earlier this month, I got to spend a weekend with Elle. After hearing about her luck on Match.com with April Date #3 and in a moment of “I want that too”, I made a commitment to post a profile of my own in June.

Why would I do such a thing? Was I crazy to make such a commitment?

Since I’ve pretty much been stuck in the house this weekend, feeling yucky, I figured I’d use my (rare) house-bound and plan-less state to take a stab at writing my profile.

I have not been successful.

How do you define the essence of who you really are in just a few sentences?

How do you define what you’re looking for with just a few words?

How do you define the relationship that you dream of, and all your hopes for the future in just a few paragraphs?

Elle let me read her profile…it was fantastic! Don’t think that I haven’t considered just changing the name and using hers.

But, while we’re looking for very similar things out of a relationship, finding a guy of my own using her profile would just be…wrong. Righhhht? YES, Jane…yes, it WOULD be wrong!

(But hers is sooo goooood!!!)

Okay…so now I’m obviously using writing this post as a welcome break & as an excuse to put off writing that impossible profile.

Guess that I better get back to it…

The good news is that I didn't specify a date in June by when I'd be signed up! Let's see, that gives me...(30 days hath September, April, JUNE...) 30 more days!