If You Belonged Here

Chance Looks for Love...In Expensive Places

Since this is my first post on this blog I thought I would write about my two favorite subjects: me, of course, and my lack of a love life.

I feel like one of those horses that is great out of the gate but not much for stamina. (Insert joke here).  I started off my love career like a rocket. In the seventh grade, I danced all night with Michelle A.  Well, it really was more of a rocking back and forth than dancing but I was touching a girl and she wasn't running away because she thought I was about to snap her bra strap. We danced all night. And on the last song I even dipped her without dropping her on her head—to the applause of most of the crowd. We were voted 'Best Couple.' The award came with a huge Hershey's Candy Bar. 

I knew I was in love.  I could feel it in the nervous energy that would make me shake just thinking about Michelle.  I remember sitting in my room and listening to love songs on my walkman dreaming of Michelle as Mrs. Michelle Chance.  The combination of her first name and my last name was something I wrote in various styles of penmanship on my trapper keeper.  This of course was discovered by my classmates and was added into the Chance humiliation hall of fame.  Looking back I realize that even then I was a fool for love, and a fool and his love will soon part.

Flash-forward a year and it was time for the Eighth Grade Dance.  Expectations were pretty high. I think there was a pool on if I would get to first base or not. I had a plan, not to talk Michelle into an illicit but passion-filled kiss behind the bleachers— but to get her to fall deeply in love with me.  She was smart (future valedictorian), popular, and beautiful with that great 80's poof of hair and leg warmers that went on for miles.

During the dance I stepped away from the Hawaiian punch and asked Melissa R. to go with me to the cloakroom and point out which jacket was Michelle's. After Melissa left—I think a little bit sad that I didn't try to feel her up—I slipped a black velvet box into Michelle's pocket. When I got back to the dance, Michelle was waiting for me; the couple’s dance was about to begin. The song was “Take my Breath Away” by Berlin, the one that was featured in a spit-filled sex scene on Top Gun.  A scene that would give me a lot of trouble later in life during a situation that involved a woman’s chin, my drool, and the worst sound you can hear the first time you are together, hysterical laughter. But that is a story for another time.

The song was a perfect way to describe how I was feeling about Michelle, which I told her at the time: "Michelle, this song is a perfect way to describe how I am feeling about you."  I think she giggled. I remind you that it would be another four years before she became valedictorian.  We were voted best couple…again. But if you think I was going to use my built up capital on a good night kiss, you underestimate me, my hormones, and her mother’s icy stare. I knew come Monday morning some things were going to happen—and that kissing would only be part of it.

And Monday morning came. Lucky for me it was picture day so I got to wear my best striped shirt with my favorite skinny leather tie. I put a little extra Groom & Clean in my hair, and stole a squirt of my Dad's Aqua Velva.  Looking good, smelling good, and in an hour —when Michelle and I went to the library or, as we called it then, The Love Shack—I was going to be feeling pretty damn good.

I got off yellow bus number 5 and walked into school. A crowd of girls was sitting there waiting for me.  A huge smile swept across my face, as I thought word had already gotten out of what a great boyfriend I would make, and the girls were lining up. Melissa R. and her posse of Chanceabees surrounded me. They were shouting my name and asking if I had given Michelle a pair of earrings.

"Ladies, ladies, those where 100% cubic Zirconium earrings."

Well, the girls all got pretty quiet for a moment. I was sure was they were in awe of my generous nature. Then Melissa spoke up in a tone that was downright mocking, "You Jackass. She doesn't even have her ears pierced!" Two points for Melissa.

Needless to say Michelle and I never did make it to the Love Shack, never kissed, and--although I am sure she was in love with me—the massive middle school pressures of gossip, jokes, and hallway taunts ended our brief but passion-filled affair.

The point of this story wasn't about how much of a fool I made of myself. The point is that for love I would always be willing to go past the point of fool.

Flash forward 20 years, a lot of partners, a few loves, and an embarrassing case of the clap: I am still a fool for love. But I’m not having much success finding anyone that is interested in watching me make one of myself.

Enter in internet dating.

For about fifty bucks a month I get to look at thousands of women that live in the Seattle area while not having to suck in my slight spare tire or change out of my bathrobe. If I think they are hot, and if the interests and hobbies that they rarely do match the interests and hobbies that I rarely do, I can send them a wink. Or if I really want to put the effort into it, an email. 

Gone are the days of telling the hot girl in the grocery store that I always  squeeze the melons in order to make sure they are ripe. Or the days of telling the girl in the over-sized Harvard sweatshirt at the laundry mat that her underwear would look great on the bedroom floor. Now it's all about how hot your profile picture is, and if you have any cool action pics, like climbing Mount Kilimanjaro , skiing a black diamond run in Vale, or standing on top of the pyramids.  Then there is your short story about who you are, what you’re about, and what things you’re looking for in a partner.  Although nobody is completely honest: I am 34 and only a social drinker or I really don’t care about money and if you make any.   It is really important to be mostly honest: I like kittens, puppies, and long walks on the beach. But not desperate: I am lonely, feeling a bit randy, and really just want a girlfriend I can cling to.

So without further ado here is my profile from Match.com:

The above picture links to the full profile, just click. Any advice, please feel free to share but, dear reader, please remember I am a man, therefore sensitive and fragile so try not to cut me too deep. That means you, too, Alice!

 

Begging the Question: Why, Bookclub, Why?

Well, there's this: I read the book and I am sure that whoever bought the movie rights made a sound investment. This book will be a fabulous movie. And young people may even enjoy the read.

Actually, there was a whole lot more, but if you didn't get here in a timely fashion, well, there's a whole lot less now. You'll get the gist from the comments. Which I may delete later. We'll see.

 

  

Alice Finds Diosa

 Alice: What’s your favorite color?

Diosa: Green.

Alice:  How old are you?

Diosa: 34.

Alice: Would you love it if I ask you a million questions like that?

Diosa: Not so much.

Alice: So you've been married to the same man, Blackstone, for a long time? 

Diosa: We've been married for over ten years, together for seventeen years; half my life.

Alice: And he’s your first husband, right? Impressive.

We've heard that Polly said “don't do it” on your wedding day, but what was going through your head?

Diosa: I wasn't ready to leave my future husband at the altar. Totally not my style. But I had rationally had a conversation with him the previous week stating that if things didn't get better soon, I'd divorce him.

Alice: I had that same conversation with my first husband. My situation turned out a little different than yours.

Diosa: The six months preceding and following my wedding were some of the worst of my life. We had been together a long time, and I knew I loved him. I trusted in the fact that it was a rough patch and we would get through it. Luckily, I seemed to be right.

Alice: Blackstone looks just like John Cusack. So I assume you think John Cusack is hot.

Diosa: I had quite a thing for John Cusack before I met Blackstone. It may have helped things along.

Alice: How many urinary tract infections did it take before your dad said "I have two words for you: Oral Sex”?

Diosa: I've had so many, it's hard to count let alone keep track of how many I'd had at one point or another. I was still living at home, so let's put the number at about ten or fifteen.

Alice: Were you mortified or was that normal banter around your house?

Diosa: I was mortified but that comment was not out of character for my house. I still remember coming home one night, kissing my dad good night and having him say, "You smell like sex." I'm sure he was right. Neither his being right, nor his consistency in making such blunt and direct comments made it less mortifying.

Alice: In the same post you said you had tried spraying vodka up your nose to cure a sinus infection. Have you ever heard of Sudafed?

Diosa: I have. I like Vodka better.

Alice: Me, too—me, too.

Diosa: The neti pot works best for me, though. And I prefer any possible method of handling my sinus infections over having my nose broken.

Alice: So your first career was as a high school English teacher?

Diosa: You must have gotten the common thread between me, Bookgirl and Polly by now.

Alice: You were all teachers?

Diosa: No, silly. Bookgirl's in publishing. Polly's an aspiring writer and sometimes copy editor. I was an English teacher. The common thread is love of reading and writing. Even if I did end up an IT Manager. At least, for now.

Alice: Tell us the craziest thing a student ever did, a time when you knew you should be pissed but all you could do was laugh.

Diosa: Um, usually all I could do was be pissed. It's why I quit.

But one time when I was student teaching, I made the mistake of asking two senior boys if they were going to the freshman dance. One answered, "Yes, fresh meat." The other, "Not me, Miss Diosa. I like older women."

Alice: Speaking of kids: yours run away from home, huh?

Diosa: Little Trouble (LT) escaped on several occasions at two and three, but I wouldn't call that running away.

Trouble actually ran away about a year ago. During the winter. Left a note on the fridge and everything. He was picked up by the police a few blocks away—eight years old, no hat or gloves, carrying a stuffed animal. I guess he looked pretty suspicious.

Alice: I like that kid. And the escapee.

Diosa: Trouble also recently told the principal that his father choked him. I had a very unpleasant conversation with her and she decided not to call in the social workers, this time.

Alice: Your boys are the real deal.

Diosa: Tom Sawyer had nothing on them.

Alice: You wrote in a post about teaching "Often as a teacher, once you meet a student's parents their kid's behavior becomes more understandable." What do you think Trouble’s teachers say when he pulls the "dad strangled me" act?

Diosa: I can't imagine. I hope they know him well enough to understand that he's spoiled rotten and a complete drama queen. I figure if they haven’t called the authorities, they must get that. But both boys are actually well behaved at school.

Alice: Okay, so you quit being a schoolteacher and went back to school yourself to become an IT whiz. If you get tired of that will you go back to school again?

Diosa: Maybe. I love school. I just hate paying for it.

There's nothing else I'm burning to learn, though. Reading, writing, technology—those are my passions. If there's another career in my future, it's something more physical: yoga instructor, personal trainer.

Alice: Are you a hacker? Could you break into a credit card companies computer system and rip them off pennies at a time?

Diosa: I'm no hacker. Though, to be honest, if I should I be so inclined, I could set up one of those fishing websites that lures less computer literate individuals into giving away their social security or credit card numbers. It's not really that hard.

Alice: I knew it.

Didn’t you get your old boss’s job?

Diosa: Yes, I did. I think I'm in way over my head.

Alice: You once wrote that you were "relentless, thorough, and intense" but trying to be better about change—accepting it, embracing it. How’s that going?

Diosa: I had a review with my new boss, the CEO. His one criticism was that I should lighten up and smile more. Obviously, I'm doing great at being less intense.

Alice: You have some good posts on your blog about women, their roles, abilities, and such. Do you consider yourself a feminist?

Diosa: When men I work with call me "sweetheart" or "darlin'," I have mental visions of slugging them. If that makes me a feminist, then so be it.

More often, though, it seems I get accused of behaving like a man rather than a feminist. I think that’s a bit different. A feminist is still considered as acting and thinking like woman. When you act like a man, you're not trying to make people behave differently or change the world. You just do what you want and fuck anyone who doesn't agree.

People can call me anything they want but at the end of the day, I'm not going to care enough about what they think to change the way I behave.

Alice: You live in a really old house, right?

Diosa: In New England, if your house was built this century, it's not all that old. Ours was built in the 1950's, so it’s just old enough to need a new roof, heating system, windows, drainage….

Alice:  It seems like you've been working on it for a long time, if you could do it over would you buy a new build so you didn't have to deal with all the renovations and problems?

Diosa: Every house is eventually going to require maintenance. The grass is always greener. Didn't that come up in Chance's interview? Yeah, grass is just plain grass.

Alice: Well, maybe different shades?

Diosa: I'm one of those rare birds that have always been quite satisfied with my own brand of grass, thank you very much. Life is never going to be perfect. And if it was, I'd be bored, and I hate being bored.

Alice: Things I’ve picked up form your blog: aluminum-free deodorant and Weeds. Do you have any other wisdom to offer?

Diosa: I was really very disappointed to learn that Uno's has done away with their Uno's Amber Ale recently. That's not really wisdom, but it's what's on my mind to share.

Alice: Noted. Are you sure you don't want to do a pet interview?

Diosa: Quite sure. But you reminded me I have to go feed Flame his worms and crickets. Trouble isn't home tonight.

Alice: What is Flame again?

Diosa: Leopard Gecko.