The Grass is Always Greener

So once upon a time, I embarked on a business road trip. Picture Vacation with Chevy Chase, the only difference was that I was with my boss and HR. We were in an Ford Expedition rather than a classic station wagon. So I arrived to the plant on time at the crack of dawn, also known is 6:30am. Don't worry I was on time. My boss, however was not. Sadly, I was dropped at the curb with all my things. I guess it could have been worse. The driver could have just slowed down and let me hop out while the car was still moving. I am sure the idea was thought about.

So 2 hours later, we stop for McDonald's and after 2 more stops, we arrive in dry and desolate West Texas. I learned my tolerance for driving is about 3 hours, it's not 9. Who in the world wants to be in a car that long? So after picking up another co-worker, we ate lunch. We went to Chili's. It was the longest lunch of my life. The people are of another breed. The breed that is in no hurry for anything, EVER. Our waitress had bleach blonde and black hair mixed together. I wanted to tell her to pick a color, clear the table and take my order all in one breathe. Now don't get me wrong, I am NOT always in a hurry but come on, I would like to eat before the moon comes out. Clear the table and let's get on with it. So after the longest lunch in history, we all pile back into the car and take off. I thought this was the perfect time to get into the third row and crash out. I slept all the way to the next location, which was even farther West.

The plant that I arrived at was something out of a horror movie. It was a garage mixed with a shack. I walked into a place with a floor that resembled my garage floor, only not as nice. It was warm and stuffy, because the window air conditioning units were not working but instead blowing warm air. I was never more aware that I was in blue jeans than this moment. I was hot in two seconds and starting to sweat. At this point, I couldn't wait to get back into the car and get the hell out of dodge. The plant was in the middle of a neighborhood, but not a nice one. There was a haunted, run down house next store that had graffiti on it. I thought, this might be my "final destination." I was waiting for the ceiling to just cave in, and that 4 days later they find my overheated, red body, chewed up by vultures or wild wolves. So I started to work with the gentleman there. He was in shorts, and I only wished I was too. The office was small and cluttered. I didn't know where to start. We worked on a few things and after about 2 hours, it was time to get back in the car and head to the hotel. Naturally on the way back, the engine light came on. I thought, this is certainly the end for me. The rental car will break down, no one will find us and we will all perish in the middle of no where. We made it back, only to eat again. I can't tell you how tired I was from eating, riding, driving and sleeping.

We arrive at our hotel and begin to check in, our room was priced the same as the Ritz, only it was a Holiday Inn Express. Not quite the same. I have never been to the Ritz, but it's on my bucket list. I took the most glorious shower of my life. I could have stayed there forever. Afterwards, I knew that the next day would be a bad hair day because I didn't want to do anything but hit the pillow. I attempted to get online, but that didn't work. I didn't care much because I was too tired anyways. So I flip some channels and finally pass out.

The next morning, I woke up with a crick in my neck. Of course.

However, once back in the car, I thought I might have a nervous breakdown...from being in the car again. We got to talking and I thought about my life. This often happens on long road trips I think. My first thought was I wish I had some corn nuts. My second thought was that is this my life?

It felt like my life was at a stand still while everyone around me was moving forward. I know that's not all true. Sometimes you just want what the people around you have. I want to live in a downtown loft, have a killer high paying job, with a good looking guy on my arm. It could happen...

It made me think of my mom, also known as the Lady of Leisure. My mom is sweet and I envy her sometimes. She is always busy even though she doesn't have to work and support herself. She is selfless and would do anything for me. In my office, I joke about how I want a man for: taking out the trash, taking my car for an old change and asking me how my day was. I know that isn't the only things, but those are the 3 things that I want the most, even if it's a very simple request.

One time, and this is something I will never forget. At Christmas a while back, I got a small box wrapped from my mom. It was just from her. It was small and I wondered what little surprise was inside. When I opened this box, it had a pair of diamond earrings in it. I was in awe at the sparkle and the fact that I did not have diamond earrings, nor did I ask for them. But I had recently had a break up with a guy. In hindsight, I knew that we would have never lived happily ever after. I looked at my mom who was looking at me, and she said, "I thought you deserved some diamonds." Like since I didn't get a diamond ring, and I was back to square one with my never ending drama of a love life. She got it. She gave me just what I needed that I didn't know I needed it. So I guess the grass is sometimes greener on the other side, but my life is pretty good most of the time.

5 years is a bit too long...

Once upon a time, in my day to day life, I learned something new. According to the Tiger (as he shall be called), he said he told me about this, and I allegedly replied with, "eh." My "oh crap" moment happened last Thursday. I am pretty sure I sometimes have selective hearing and that when this item was explained to me from all the wisdom of the Texas Blue Hair and the Feisty Shoe Diva, I knew this was LIFE OR DEATH! There is a filter that goes in the house for your air conditioner.

Did you know that? Because I sure as hell didn't know that. And yes, before you start to really get on my case, I know an air filter goes in the car. Do you know how I know that bit of information, because the mechanic with the name stitched on his shirt (probably named Buck) pulled out a filthy one and said, "this is pretty dirty, do you want a new one?" I of course, said hell no. I knew I could get it cheaper at the O'Reilly's or wherever my dad said it was cheaper. The point being, someone pulled it out of the car, lifted it in the air, so I could see it and said, hey this has to be changed or your car will blow up on the road, and the sky will fill with dust....

All right maybe not exactly like that, but upon being asked about it, I figured out this was something important.

So naturally the next question from the wise ladies is, "when is the last time it was changed?" Now, this was the first time I even heard about this oh so important filter, so I knew the answer would be...wait for it, get ready for the echo in a large cave... "NEEEEVVVVERRR!" The gasp was unbelievable and simultaneous. Then I got the lecture of why this is important. Even the cowgirl knew what it was and the flamenco dancer (the other 2 ladies I work with).

So I began my search for how to get a new filter. I text messaged the Tiger and screamed for help. I didn't know what this was, where it was and why I even had to change it in the first place and why this was never announced to me in home owner's 101 class.

Well unfortunately the Tiger bailed on me last minute like a typical man, so it was time for this girl to get down to the Home Depot and walk aimlessly around until a rugged man could ask me what I was looking for. Unfortunately, there were on a special end cap as soon as I walked in, and no rugged man could help me because the filter was starring me in the face. Dang it. This is what a new filter looks like, in case you are learning about this for the first time.
To my surprise, they were relatively cheap. For once, something that didn't require me to dip into my emergency savings account (like the stinking break pads). So then I had to figure out where the heck this went. I was sure it was the attic, which is 100,000 degrees right about now. Oh did I mention it's been 17 days with triple digit heat. Awesome. Perfect time to change this thing.

But to my surprise, I learned from my dear friend little mama, the vent was at the top of the stairs. HOORAY! This meant not sweating to death in the attic.

Now, the cowgirl told me to look very carefully at the old filter to see the arrow. This apparently deals with air flow or whatever. Well I can tell you I had to squint to see it because it was basically rubbed off. Do you know why? Well it's because I have NEVER changed the filter in 5 years, that's why!

Guess what? It was REALLY dirty. I mean layers of dirty, like my hands were black. I wish I could have taken a picture of my hands, because it would have made this story extra dramatic.

Here is the dirty filter...(Butch, my good kitty was supervising).

Pretty bad huh? Well lesson learned. Being the genius I am, I bought a 2 pack and even put in my calendar the next time to change it. It will beep a reminder.

The lesson to this story is this that older people know about anything and if you don't want your air conditioner to blow up and cost you $7,000.00 to repair, you will change out this important filter.

The End.

Manners will get your far...

Manners, do we have them anymore? I sometimes wonder. I remember them being beat into me. So much so, that they stuck.

Here is a few examples:

1. Please and thank you


2. Chew with your mouth closed


3. Cross your legs if you are wearing a dress


4. Wipe your feet at the door and take your shoes off in a persons home


5. Ask to be excused from the dinner table (this one was really important - and you had to say MAY I be excuse from the table PLEASE? - or you'd sit there)


6. Offer food or drinks to guests


7. Open doors for people behind you and ladies


8. Apologize to someone if you bump into them


9. Wait to eat until everyone at the table is seated and ready to eat


10. Cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze

These seem pretty common.

Once upon a time, I was on a plane on the way home from Detroit. I sat next to the largest man who honestly looked like he was having triplets. He should have bought 2 seats, not 1. His legs were spread wide open, so he basically took up all my leg room. It pissed me off immediately. Then to top it off, the jack ass in front of me reclined his seat. I never recline my seat on a plane because it pisses me off so much. So I basically felt like a sardine in a can. What annoyed me more is that when the flight attendant came by to ask what beverage I would like. The person from India near the window says, "tomato juice," the fat man besides me says, "ginger ale," I reply, "ginger ale, please," Even though I know it will be Canada Dry, and not Vernors, I still know to say please. Then the flight attendant brings everyone their drink and I am the only one who says, "thank you," by which she replies, "you are welcome." So the 2 schmucks next to me say nothing. What the heck is wrong with people? That nice woman should have poured the drinks on those 2 idiots next to me. I would have stood up and applauded her.

Prior to this little airplane trip, I was visiting my 2 cousins, Mr. Big Deal, and Mr. Sweetheart. Both of which are 7 or more years younger than me, but have better manners that the last 5 guys I had a date with, except for 1, who picks me up, and opens my door when we go out. Miss Fashionista and I went to visit my family, and immediately when we arrived, the boys, put our luggage in the trunk, opened the palace doors to White Castle and took us to lunch. Afterwards, they got our luggage out of the trunk, carried them to our room, and offered us a beverage in their home. Now, my Ms. Crazy Fun raised these boys right. They are wonderful. She also told me that my standards in men are not too high, and that waiting for the right one is far better than putting up with the wrong one. Now, if I could just get the people in Texas to see eye to eye with my family, I'd be all set.

It amazes me how rude people are. They talk on their phone in the grocery store check out line. They don't take their hat off when eating at a restaurant. People don't offer elderly people a seat when they should stand. They start eating before everyone is served. They don't open the doors. Some don't even pay when they ask you to go out for a drink. "SEPARATE" See earlier blog for that drama story. Trust me, it's a must read.

The morale of the story is this: if you have manners, you will get far in life. If you don't, then you're schmuck.

The End.

The Nightmare of Dating...

Once upon a time, matchmaking services were offered to me. I accepted. Little Miss Liar decided she was going to find me the man of my dreams by all means necessary. I, being the adventurous type, decided that this would be a good idea. I told Little Miss Liar that I would accept any advice, go out with anyone she chose (based on my strict criteria) and would explore all suggested avenues.

So first, she sent me to a dating service. She signed me up online while I drove us back from a business trip. I had no idea what she put and who this company was, but Oprah liked it. So naturally, Little Miss Liar went out of town and I got a phone call. So Little Miss Liar promptly made me call her back and sent me over. I met with the craziest lady on the planet. It was 2 hours of my life I will never get back. She was unprofessional, she asked personal questions, (yea, those questions). I am like, hello, who the hell are you? I am not going to tell you anything about that. Then I had to watch a cheesy 80's dating film with a complete cast of freakshow people in it. Don't worry, she continued to tell me about how she broke all the rules, but she met her mate. So she asked me 100 questions about myself, but then told me her answer to all the same questions. I was worn out. Then I am like, hit me with the price. I am tired, hungry, and I am pretty sure this lady was either on drugs, or stuck her finger in the electric socket to do her hair that morning. She was a cross between a mental patient and a mad scientist.

So guess what it cost? $7,500!!! Can you believe that? Who in their right mind pays that? Apparently some guys, because then she whipped out the professional pictures they take! All part of the inexpensive price of $7,500.00. I am sorry but I had a glamour shot when I was 12, and I promise I would use that before forking over that kind of money. Plus my glamour shots were like $99.00 and I looked FABULOUS! I had 2 lbs of make up on and giant hair. I looked like a grown up. So of course she got the price down to $4,500.00 as a deal to me, but naturally she needed it up front. Don't worry, only 4% of the people meet their mate in the first year. So get ready for the 3 year long commitment. I would rather take $4,500.00 and head to Europe and find a mate with an ancient and the need for a greencard!!! Preferably an Italian, who could cook lasagna and who would hand me wads of cash to go shopping with. The more he look like Olivier Martinez, the better. Where did all the real men go?

Maybe I am looking for a unicorn...a great guy that doesn't really exist...

More than an hour!

This is DFW

Once upon a time on a Tuesday morning, all hell broke loose. First, I woke up for cycling. It was a good thing I did, because I checked my flight before I walked out the door. Much to my surprise, the flight was at 8:25am and not 9:25am. So I left and headed to cycling. The second song, Very Sarcastic Valorie played was "Dirty Diana" by Michael Jackson. It's like she knew I was coming to cycling. I thought to myself, what a lovely day. Not to mention the view in front of me was the super hot guy in all black, Johnny Muscles Cash. Who minds getting up earlier when that is the view in front of you? Bravo to your butt and muscle arms. I commend you! And I will sit behind you thinking that in my head, very silently.

So I sweat a little and then leave. I have to take a shower and go to the airport. So I shower, get ready, throw on some fabulous blue eye shadow, and head out. I have the park in the non-covered parking lot. It is always full. I am not thrilled, but what are you going to do? I am not driving around for 20 minutes. I go in, and hit the check point. It has the longest line in the history of the world. I thought I was standing in line for the Ferris Wheel at the Texas State Fair. I was like, uh-oh. So I text Miss Silky Hair, and she hadn't made it through and the lady in front of her was a bitch. So in the mist of me waiting in line. I meet a fabulous New Yorker. It's like yankees and me have an unspoken connection. We pick each other out because we know we are bad ass. So Leigh, and I talk and decide we are doomed to miss the flight. We get there and our flight left without us! Can you believe that? I even asked Miss Silky Hair to hold the plane, like in the movies. Apparently they told her no. Well this morning was not turning out like the movie in my head!!!

Needless to say, I missed the flight. Unbelievable. I have never in my life missed a flight. I pride myself on being punctual. If you aren't sure about that ask, Miss Mom 4. I went to college with her and she can attest to my dinner time being at 5:00pm, on the dot.

So Leigh and I head to the T.G.I.Fridays to eat breakfast. She missed the same flight. I mean what the heck? I am all ready stuck there waiting for the next flight. It's only a mere 2 hours away. Plus, I live for breakfast. That is one thing you must know by now. So after our lovely breakfast and my saving grace cup of coffee, we head to the gate.

I whip out my laptop. I must say that I am quite sure the people around me probably thought I was a powerful executive. I mean I have a laptop with wirless! I can work anywhere. I don't. But the point is that I could! I am sure these other people traveling to Midland surely thought I was running a big company. They might have been admiring my fabulous blue eye shadow, but they probably were thinking they should ask for my business card. Either way, I look important. One time my dad told me a story about how he was so annoyed with everyone talking on their cell phone in the airport, that he held his phone to his ear and started yelling, "SELL, SELL, SELL!!!" Apparently people turned around. He was just annoyed because everyone was talking so loud. I actually thought about doing that, only to prove the point that I could be working on Wall Street selling stocks. I doubt the Midland travelers would believe it, but it is possible.

So FINALLY, I get on the plane. Then a giant businessman in a suit sits next to me. I bust out my Harry Potter book - DON'T JUDGE ME! I didn't read them when they were popular, but now Miss Hollywood has them all and I am borrowing them one at a time. So this dude next to me is totally having a free show of my boobs. I know it. I can't help that it will be 90 degrees in Midland and I have a lovely blouse on. Read your damn newspaper!

So finally I arrive and have to get my rental car. Don't worry, I am a priority member, which means throw me the keys as I walk by, while those other non preferred member schmucks wait in line! I get a KIA. I don't care for KIA because my ninja warehouse manager told me it stood for "Killed In Action" So I am always thinking that a giant army truck is going to steam roll me on a highway when the aliens attack. So far, it hasn't happened. The KIA wasn't bad. It was new and smelled new. So I go to the Plant, and naturally Miss Silky Hair is about to chew off the new cashier's arm. So I just happen to make it in time for lunch. SCORE!

The End.

Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling...

Patsy Cline wrote Crazy. I know you have heard the song. And if you haven't, then you were probably born in 1987 like the new hire today, or you have no sense of culture. Regardless, I think Patsy Cline wrote this song traveling to Midland / Odessa, TX, or any part of West Texas for that matter.

And thus begins my story...

Once upon a time in a dusty, windy region, a fair, young maiden traveled for work. Little did she know she would be entering the TWILIGHT ZONE! Cue music!!!

I have been working in the West Texas region for approximately 3 months. I can tell you that it's a different culture completely. No one is in a hurry, everyone talks slow with a drawl, and the office is like the 1970's without the lime green furniture. Seriously, the women's movement needs to back track and hit this area. Now I am as happy as the next lady to find a true gentleman to open the door for me, (since it's rare), but I also want to know that women also are smart and capable, who can make sound business decisions.

SIDEBAR - One man at lunch, named George McFly, always takes his ball cap off while he is eating. It brings up fond memories of my mom yelling, "take your hat off at the dinner table." At the time, I thought it was stupid. Now, I miss it a little. When McFly does it, it reminds me of what good manners he has, and that we share a love for sandwiches.

Ok back to my ranting...

Here is an example of the backwoods-ness of this West, TX area, if I walk into a hospital and see a women in a white coat, I don't automatically assume she is the nurse because she is female. I also don't look at the doctor and think, oh he must be the doctor because he is male.

In West Texas, women are secretaries. "Does that word even exist?" Men, on the other hand are the "bosses." It makes me want to slit my wrists. So not admin professionals, the term secretary is still used, what is worse is the women use it to refer to themselves. It makes me want to set up a swear jar. Remember, if you said shit, you had to put a quarter in the jar. I should do that for the word secretary.

So onto the real drama of my story. I travel to this one particular site, and there is a lady named Ms. Mouth of the South, only she is really in the West. I consider Texas the South, so it works. She is the most emotional woman I have ever met in my life. I guess I have toughened up working with mostly men. I think that if I am boo hoo-ing all the time, they might not take me serious. Let's just say right now they take me serious. (and I am pretty nice...after my cup of coffee) Ms. Mouth of the South cries once a week, gossips about everything and everyone, and basically is becoming my full time job. I told her she was on a "no crying" restriction. I told her if she was crying, someone better be dead. I guess I come from the school of if you are going to work with men, you better work at their level. Now I am not saying that they don't have an emotional moment here and there. I can tell you that I have never seen one cry in my office. Not ever. I think if they were crying, someone would probably be dead.

Honestly all the problems Ms. Mouth of South has is that she let's everything become personal and emotional. She wants everyone to like her, everyone to come talk to her, and everyone to depend on her. In the real world, there are people that you are not going to like and vice versa. I actually have an arch nemesis who works in Dallas. His name is actually Arch Nemesis. When I speak of his stupid ass, people at work, all ready know who I am speaking of. I have basically replaced his name. (and not even to protect the innocent, like in my blog) Come to think of it, I nick name everyone. I like it. Regardless, everything is about her feelings. It makes me nuts. I have emotions, but I keep them to myself or I call my posse of people who are allowed to see my weaknesses and love me anyway. I literally roll my eyes when I get an email. It's probably as automatic as blinking.

Needless to say, this story is only the beginning. I am quite positive there will soon be a Ms. Mouth of the South monologues coming out in the near future. Or when I have to travel out to the west again.

The End. (for now)

Adventures of dating...

Once upon a time, I thought dating would be a good idea. If you read the last blog, you would know that it's been quite a struggle. Don't worry, there is more.

THE BUTCHER

Once upon a time, I drove to this scary, psycho part of town. I arrived at the Thai place. The Butcher showed up right after me. He gave me a hug and told me I smelled good. I told him that I shower from time to time. Then we went in the restaurant, and it was very nice and small and not scary inside. He brought 3 bottles of wine. So at least he is on the same page as me on that one. He brought 2 of the same kind and 1 in case I didn't like the other ones.

At this point, I thought he was thoughtful and charming. He did not wear a ball cap, like one of my previous dates (SIDEBAR - of which he wore right through dinner. Had he been at my mom and dad's house, someone would have yelled at him).

So we chit chatted, and he told me that he was married for a year and half and that his wife moved to be near her mom because of cancer. Ironically, on his profile, he said he had not been married. (this will become an important detail later in my story.) He offered to move her down and I guess things did not pan out. No kids... Good. He said he was a chef, and loved to throw dinner parties. He could also make Sushi, which I found to be awesome. He likes independent smart woman. Here, here!!! He said he was not clingy and wants his own space sometimes.

In the past, I dated a shorter man, Mr. Klingon. He was a stage 5 clinger. Always rubbing my arm and touching me. I mean good grief, I am not a baby lamb. Sheesh.

The Butcher said he was a morning person (boo and hiss).

We got some food, and he picked out some good stuff, and then I picked one thing. We got this coconut soup (his choice) and he said make it a number 2 on spiciness. I got (pineapple rice) and said make it a 1 on the spicy scale. Miss Hollywood told me to get MILD. She knows that I can't handle the spice. It was SO FREAKING hot. I though my lips were going to burst into flames. He said it was very warm, and much warmer than usual. At one point, my eyes were tearing. He says to me, "little hot huh?" No my eyes are tearing for the hell of it!

Then the question of death for a spinster. He asked me why in the world I wasn't married. Classic. So I told him I hadn't found the right guy and I wasn't settling. He said he did, and wished he hadn't. So then he paid. Bonus. The night ended and he told me to call him when I arrived home. Safety precaution. So far....he was in my dating queue.

The Second, and LAST DATE with the Butcher

Once upon a time in a land called Diana's Life, I had a second date with THE BUTCHER. (Music from Psycho plays here).

So The Butcher texts me Friday and wants to check my schedule availability.

"How is Sunday?" - Butcher
"Fine" - Diana
"I will make you a honey butter pecan glazed Chilean sea bass"- Butcher

"I caught you a delicious bass"- Napolean Dynomite
"Are you going to eat those tots?" - Napolean Dynomite

OK, so Sunday rolls around and I figure he will tell me when this shin dig is going down. So around like 5, he calls. Really? 5? OK, so he says, I will begin prepping dinner at 7, and we can eat at 7:30pm. I am like OK. I decide to bring a bottle of wine as a nice gesture, and I don't know how much sea bass costs, but I am nice like that.

So he gives me his address. (and I inform my people where I am going) I want to know that my friends are aware of the birthmark on my inner right calf. I also want to know I was missing when I am found floating in Lake Lewisville. So I drive to BFE, There were kids on the street, IN THE DARK. Clink, clink. That is the doors locking in case you were wondering.

So I get there. I knock on the door. And he enters, get ready, wearing gray SWEATPANTS, and I am pretty sure the white polo he wore on our Thursday date. Last time checked sweatpants didn't come until 6 months down the road, you have the flu, and needing to be rushed to the hospital. Clearly not the SECOND date. Good grief. Miss Fashionista would have just fainted, or turned around got in her car and left. (Next time, I will.)

PAY ATTENTION HERE!!!

So remember, when I told you that on his profile he marked that he was never married. And then at the Thai place he said, well I was married for 1 1/2 years. I was like OK. I am sure there is a good reason for keeping that to yourself. Benefit of the doubt. UNTIL....he is living in her house. Yep. The x-wife's house. Go figure.

He THEN tells me, he has a 19 year old daughter. WHAT!!!???!!! I said, "You are kidding, right?" WRONG. He said, well I got my high school sweetheart pregnant, we had a daughter and put her up for adoption, but it was an open adoption and I recently just met her.

Now mind you, I had a very long conversation with him on the last date, of how I didn't want to date a guy with kids. I am not a hater, I just prefer to start my own.

So I figure, I might as well go for the TRI-FECTA. So I ask, have you been to jail? He says, WHICH TIME? Are you kidding me?

Well now that I have the ball rolling, let's just keep going...

Don't worry, I also told him about my great dislike for ASPARAGUS. He decides to cook that. Awesome. I said, "hey buddy, I don't like asparagus." He looks at me like this is the first time he has heard this. I said, "hey, I will try it, but I don't like it." I had one top, and then that was it. Now mind you all this prepped food is ready at 9:00pm!!!! I almost was dizzy from starving to death.

It gets better...

He has a roommate (that he also failed to mention - according to our first date, he owned a house by himself, or at least that is the impression I had), the roommate is some dude he has been friend's with since high school.

He has a good dog and an evil pit bull puppy that jumped on me every 5 seconds, until I made a face of the dog needs to be outside or trained.

In polite conversation, I mentioned washing my car and saving the cash, which prompted, "I don't save money, I buy new toys when I want, I am not really good at saving money." RED ALERT, RED ALERT. ABORT MISSION.

Then on our first date, he gives me a speech about being passionate. So I figure OK, your passionate about cooking, what are you doing about it to get to your goal (ala the bed and breakfast). Nothing. He has no goals. No cooking school experience. He learned everything from "EXPERIMENTING" So he ISN'T a chef, he just likes to cook. LIKE MY MOM. And my mom is a killer awesome cook. I have the cookbook to prove it. So I said, "well have you thought about learning more about it?" His reply, "No. I might take a nutrition class." Oh fabulous, then you will be the best chef in THE WORLD!!!

He said, well my bed and breakfast is on hold, because I lost my financial backer. Guess who? THE X-WIFE. Apparently she made 3 times more money. Guess who is not signing up for that? THIS GIRL!!!

So needless to say, I got the WHOLE story, thanked him for dinner, and went running and screaming out of the house. No, not really. I left. I texted, I made it home OK. THE END.

So I know you guys think I am nit picky and this is why I don't have a man. But the one thing that bothered me the most is he lied. He started off lying, and then it just got worse.

Spinster out.