SWF seeks male with pulse

Well, I did it.

I stopped perusing the personals and actually joined. I was in a haze from tryptophan and stuffing on Thanksgiving night when I found myself typing my credit card number into the online form. Since I've been on and off so many times, I decided to completely delete my last profile, create a new profile and username and get started.

Since it's newly created, the label of "NEW" highlights my profile for all to see. As I logged on, I could practically smell the hunters seeking out their latest prey. I thought the drawback had been my age but apparently it was just that I was considered stale meat.

I made my age range 39-52, set my radius for potential mates and clicked off my wants and must haves. The site has changed a bit since I was on it before and it took me a little while to maneuver all the new features.

One is called Daily 5 which lists the 5 guys who most closely match what I'm looking for. The first one I opened was a 50 year old "gunslinger" who works security in Iraq and was only going to be here for a few more weeks. Perfect! No commitment.

Well, you know me...

He stated that he was looking for recent pictures but I noted that all of his pictures were date stamped for 2004. OF COURSE, I had to point that out in my email. Hmmm...no response.

You can send a Wink, which is a non-committal flirt. I've gotten a bunch of those but every time I wink or email back, no one responds. Does it come through their email as BOO or something? I winked back. C'mon, say something! Anything!

There is one retired guy in Florida who keeps emailing me and asking me if I have a big BUTT. "Because I'm looking for BIG BUTTS and I LOVE BIG BUTTS."




I finally responded, "Listen, freak, (okay, I said Bob, not freak) I'm not willing to drive 30 minutes to the other side of Cleveland. What makes you think I'm going to hop on a plane and fly to Florida?"

Bob's response, "Will you send me pictures of your butt, then?"

Um, no, Bob. No, I won't. Go get a job!

I'm really surprised by how many widowers and religious zealots are on here. One guy said "Jesus, God, church and/or Christian" 20 times in his profile! Maybe they're so God fearing over the guilt of killing their wives?

If anyone other than Bob ever emails me back, I'll let you know.

Monday Morning Vinny

Man, this catnip bird is some good sh#@...

Stripper Chick Wisdom

Chrissy's real truth about life that no one will tell you.


"It's far more effective to bitch about people behind their backs than to do the mature thing and confront them."

Eeny, meeny, miney, moe

I’ve been on and off dating websites for the last 10 years.

Good Lord. TEN years.

Recently, more off than on.

The last time was in 2009 when I tried out Plentyoffish.com (can you say FREE?) and met the manly man firefighter.



He subsequently went back to his wife. By the way, if you know of any men who are separated, please give them my number and they will be sure to reconcile with their ex in no time.

Then I tried the California guy thing and that went to straight to hell. And by the way, do you know that he never even emailed to see how my Dad was? How shitty is that?

Obviously, I had a lot going on this past year so dating was the last thing on my mind but I think I’m ready to get out there again. Whatever that means.

Last night, I went on Match.com just to peek around and see what the pickin's are and I actually found some interesting people. Of course, the bummer is that most of them have "40 year old woman" at the top of their age range. Maybe 41. The only ones who are willing to date 44 year old women are usually 74 year old men.


He's on my "maybe" list

The fact that you can be so specific about your “criteria” is what attracts me to Match.com over the others. No, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to only look for men who live within a 5 mile radius of my home. You know I’m lazy, so the last thing I want to do is drive any farther than I have to.

And sure, they can drive to see me but c’mon, it’s Ohio. I don't need some guy I’ve only been out with a few times to drive in from Akron during a blizzard and then use as an excuse that “the roads are too bad to drive back home, baby”.

Here's a snow brush, baby. Put your pants on and get out.

I know that I’m not looking for a serious relationship. All I want is someone to go out with once in a while and to "bada boom, bada bing"!

Does that mean "sex" or does it mean "killing someone"? I'm looking for the first one.

These were some of the profiles from last night.

A plumber? Nah...my pipes are in pretty good shape.

Graphic designer? Well, I am looking at a new website venture. I’ll save that profile to my favorites.

Landscaper? I really need a fall clean up in my yard. I wonder if he does snowplowing? Save that one…

Attorney? No, I’m good.

Electrician? Oh, I really want an outlet installed out front so I can do Christmas lights this year. Save to favorites…

No...I know...you're right!

I shouldn't be looking at these men for they can DO for me. I should be looking for someone who has the same morals, religious beliefs and interests as me. Because that's really the only way that I'll find someone that I'm compatible with.

Hold on...this one does drywall....

Quality Time

Growing up in the Starr household wasn't exactly sunshine and roses. Hence...my issues.

My mother was verbally and emotionally abusive and I spent most of my childhood walking on eggshells wondering what would set her off next. This upbringing set the tone for my subsequent unhealthy and sometimes abusive relationships. After all, it's human nature to gravitate toward the familiar. Years of self analysis and introspection have brought me to a pretty healthy place but admittedly, I'm not without a lot of scars. Baby steps.

When my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer a year ago, my first thought after the obvious, was 'how will I deal with my mother when he's gone'? He always acted as a bit of a buffer and though she's mellowed a bit, a leopard really never changes their spots. I have more patience for my mother than my sister does and I suppose it's because a part of me still longs for that unconditional love while Lisa has resigned herself to the fact that it just isn't going to happen.

Last week, my mother had two doctor's appointments scheduled and since my workday affords me more flexibility, I offered to take her. I surprised myself by how patient I was as she struggled to get in and out of the car and how dutiful I was as I helped her through the hospital to the doctor's office. I could see the stares of admiration for the woman helping her elderly mother get around.

Well, that didn't last long.

After two doctor's appointments, lunch and a trip to Wal-Mart, I was pretty certain that the people watching us now were raising their phones to their ears to call Adult Protective Services on me.

I don't see why.

I mean, an 82 year old women should be able to push a heavy shopping cart with a toaster oven in it, right?

And the cars will stop for her when she's crossing the street.



It's not my responsibility to make them stop.

When I feel like I can't take it anymore, I just take a deep breath and say this little prayer:

God grant me the serenity to accept that my mother won't change.

The courage to confront her when she's being abusive.

And the wisdom to hide the gun.

Monday Morning Bernie

The one on the left moves more than the one on the right.

But I don't WANNA move

I haven’t given you a weight loss update lately because I’m not exactly thrilled with my progress. I’ve only lost 13 pounds and I know it’s because I got a little slacky with my exercise. I guess it really does make a difference at this age.

Crap.

I’m one of those people who has to do something EVERY day and if I miss a day or two, I never EVER want to work out again because, let's face it. I'm inherently lazy.

Yes, yes…I like the way I feel when I’m done and yes…I like the results but I really wish it was easier.

Like in the old days.

Remember those Elaine Powers wiggly jiggly things? Maybe I could find one on eBay and just wiggle jiggle my fat away. I've already got the black shoes and shower cap.



I’m not sure why these fat burning babies ever went out of style, either. My boyfriend and I could just crank up the heat, lie on the couch and sweat our way to thinness.


I know. I know. Who am I kidding?

I can't get a boyfriend.

Monday Morning Bernie & Vinny

Vinny, whom I've dubbed Vin Peisel, has been up to his old tricks. Just when I think we're developing a routine and he's getting comfortable and feeling at home, he pees.



I felt bad that he was an outdoor cat who's now forced to live an indoor existence so I bought him a harness. I only walked him in the back yard because, honestly, if I saw someone walking a cat, I would be the first one to make fun of them.



Last week, I decided that I would tie him out so I could clean yet more pee from my living room rug. I kept looking outside to check on him and he seemed to have found a comfortable spot under my neighbor's front bush.

When I went out to get him, I tugged on the lead and instead of feeling any resistance, it slid right out from under the bush.

Without Vinny attached!

I couldn't figure out how he had Houdinied himself out since it was still fastened. I walked around the yard, calling for him, but he was nowhere to be found so I went inside to call my sister.

"Oh my God! I can't believe he got away. Does he have a collar on with a tag?"

"No, I took his regular collar off when I put on the harness."

"Oh my God! He's not used to being on a busy street. He's going to get killed! What if another animal gets him? Oh, Chrissy, what's the matter with you?"

By now, I'm crying hysterically because I've left this poor kitty out to die. I spent the next few hours hanging out with Bernie and berating myself for being such a bad mother when I heard the dogs next store going crazy. It must be Vin!

Sure enough, there he was sitting on their front porch, tail swishing from side to side, daring them to come and get him. Luckily, they were locked behind a fence.



I felt like Dorothy went Toto came back.

"Vinny, you came back!"

Of course, 10 minutes later, I was contemplating opening the door and letting him out again when he peed on Bernie's blanket.

My friends can't understand why I keep giving him another chance, but c'mon, that's what I do with all the guys in my life. I let them piss all over me and then convince myself that I'm going to be the one to change them.

This time, I knew I wouldn't be able to do it alone, so I joined a chat room for cat lovers and asked for advice. If anyone will know what do, it's the crazy cat ladies. I've taken their advice and I'm happy to say, we're in our second pee free day. This is what they suggested:

Don't take him out at all. It just confuses him and makes him want to be out again.

Use the pheromone product, Feliway. I bought both the diffuser and the spray. It emits the same facial pheromones that cats do so that your home and objects seem familiar to the cat.

Don't play favorites. This one's tough. I mean, c'mon, Bern was my first baby. But I do try to give equal lovin' so neither one gets jealous.

I even got a direct email from some dude who had this suggestion:

ok the best way to cope with the cat is to pee on him i have been told this so
try it if you dare ????? .. i got a cat and i want try it

Um. Pass.

The other day, when Bernie came in, I could see that Vinny just wanted to sniff her because she smelled like the outside. Well, he made the mistake of putting his paws on her. I have NEVER seen Bernie move so fast in my life. She was growling and going after him and he was swiping at her with his paws.

By evening, they were fine.


"I better cover my face so no one sees this dog lying so close to my bum."



"I guess she's not so bad."


If the crazy cat lady suggestions don't work, that's it. I'm done!


I know...I know...who am I kidding?



He's not goin' anywhere.

Hopeful Possibilities

Here's the latest update from a local news affiliate on the fire that burned down the Playground of Possibilities in our city. Sadly, it turns out that a spark from a flare that a group of kids found was the cause of the fire.

The city held a rally on Saturday at the park in support of rebuilding.

(This snow's for you, Ron!)

Hope this video plays!


 

Monday Morning Vinny

"Look, Sweetheart, if you get me out of this stupid harness contraption, I SWEAR I won't go anywhere."

"C'mon. Would I lie to you?"

Secondhand Sunday

Sundays are my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.


"Jut do it, already!"

Original Post Date, January 29, 2010

The local YMCA and one of the hospitals have teamed up to start a program called Go! Fit here in town. They're offering a FREE 3 month membership to any county resident for any local YMCA or Curves location.

I called my friend Michelle, who already has a membership at the Y and asked her if she wanted to buddy up and join me. Sure, she said, and I'll sign my son up to swim while we're there. Yay! It sounded like a plan.

Since it's probably been about 6 years since I've worked out in a gym, I decided to get my workout clothes ready the night before.

I squeezed into my bike shorts. Oh, no, my ass looks huge in these.

I pulled on my black leggings. Black still doesn't prevent my legs from looking like two sausages.

I slipped on my baggy sweats. Oh geez, now I just look like a frump.

So what does any self-respecting woman do? That's right. I went and bought new workout clothes.

The next day, Michelle and I headed to the gym, which is literally a little over a mile from my house. I confidently strode toward the front desk, rockin' my bright top and yoga pants.

"I would like to sign up for the GO fit program, please."

"Great! Just to let you know, we've gotten a higher demand than we anticipated, so we're going to have to delay your start until February 12."

Wha?!?!

I felt like I was on the Biggest Loser and getting kicked off the ranch before I even weighed in. Really? You didn't anticipate that you might get a large response when you offered a free membership to 1,300,000 residents of the county?

I disappointedly looked at Michelle, who suggested I stay as her guest. I gave them my contact information and followed Michelle into the women's locker room. For those of you who watched the first episode of this season's Biggest Loser, you know that they had the contestants do their initial weigh-in in front of their friends, family and town members. It was a devastating wake up call for all of them.

So I headed to the scale and told Michelle to watch me weigh myself.

"I don't need to watch you weigh yourself," Michelle looked away.

"I need to be shamed into losing weight. Just stand there and see what I weigh."

It was a traditional balance beam scale and Michelle watched as I slid the clunky 150 pound marker over.

"See? You don't even weigh 150!"

"No....I weigh more than 150. I need to slide this thingy over."

"Oh."

Slide...not balanced....slide....not balanced...slide...still not balanced. There we go.

"Look. This is what a pig I am."

"What? There's no way you weigh that! The scale must be broken. Excuse me! Could you come over here, please, this scale is broken," Michelle yelled down the hall.

"SHH!!!! It's not broken. That's really what I weigh."

"Oh."

I followed Michelle into the fitness room and I jumped on the Stairmaster. There were a spattering of people there and we were all facing the mirrored wall.



As the Stairmaster started taking me through the random routine, I gradually started to feel stronger.

This isn't so bad, I thought to myself as I glanced in the mirror. I look pretty cute in my hot pink top.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

Hey, I think I see definition in my thighs already.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

I glanced over at the guy in (way too) short shorts. Hey, look at me! I'm so athletic. I shouted in my head. He didn't look.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

I stared at the woman in the red sweatshirt. Look at me. Look AT me! Nothin'.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

I bored holes in the back of the man's head who was sitting on the bike in front of me. Hey. Hey. You. You. Look up. Look up. Look in the mirror. Look UP!

Step. Step. Step. Step.

As the speed increased on the stairs, my breathing became more shallow and I felt myself starting to sweat. (I don't delicately perspire - I SWEAT) I glanced at myself in the mirror and could see the sweat trickling down my neck and staining my tee an even darker shade.




Keep going, Chrissy! Think of your Lucky jeans that you haven't fit into since the summer.

stepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstepstep

I looked at myself in the mirror.

Oh God! My face was bright red, my tee shirt soaked and my hair was plastered to my cheeks. I looked awful.

I caught "short shorts" looking at me in the mirror.

Stop looking at me! I'm hideous. Stop, I say. STOP!

The random routine ended and I slunk off the stairs, trying not to draw any more attention to myself. I know now that I pushed myself too hard the first day.

I mean, really, who can do five minutes right off the bat??

Stripper Chick Wisdom

Chrissy's real truth about life that no one will tell you.


"Being a team player is for those too weak to do anything on their own."

Lost possibilities

A little over a year ago, community members and local businesses donated money to create a playground in South Euclid, Ohio. It was a true labor of love as young and old, black and white, worked side by side to build the playground in just one week. It was a representation of what can be achieved when a community works together. The total cost was $250,000 and it was called the Playground of Possibilities.



This unique playground wouldn't just provide recreation for the children in the neighborhood but it would provide the opportunity for special needs and handicapped children from all over the area to experience the fun as well.



Personalized pickets were sold so you could commemorate events, family members and even pets for a small donation that benefited the playground.



I stopped by the playground on my way home today. This is what's left of it.



It was destroyed by a fire last night that the South Euclid fire inspector has ruled as arson. One by one, cars and minivans pulled into the parking lot and people shook their heads in disbelief as they surveyed the damage from behind police tape that surrounded the perimeter.
















Only three swings remain



I call South Euclid home and even though I don't have children who would frequent this park, I feel violated by this act of hatred. Let's hope they find the people who did this.

Monday Morning Bernie

I thought you said we were getting an escalator.