Err.. I completely forgot this was still here..

I recieved a message that someone “liked” one of my posts and since I’ve not had that happen before I thought I’d click the link and check it out.

It took me here.

I completely forgot I had this blog.

If you want to stay in touch, come visit me at my new site http://maruskamorena.com/blog

See you there!

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Moving

I’m moving this blog to MaruskaMorena.com. I hope you’ll all join me there.

Sincerely,
Maruska.

Mourning The Loss Of Possibility

Funny enough, after having a conversation yesterday where I mention that most dating bloggers are f’n crazy. I then proceed along my day only proving that statement true for myself.

1. I call some strange dude that I’ve never met. I know. I know.

2. I head out to get groceries and stalk the pool on the way to and from my car looking for Mr. Hot German.

3. I break down in tears over someone I’m not dating, whom I’ve never met, and proceed to want to get obliterated with alcohol because of it.

1 & 2 are normal crazy for me. 3… well I’m gunna blame hormones, but really its more involved than that.. which honestly does make me crazy.

See, I have loved this guy for a long time. We’ve slowly been getting to know each other. When we first met, he wanted nothing to do with a relationship and I did.

He’s honestly the only person since my divorce that I haven’t “broken out into hives” at the thought of getting into a relationship. Partly because we seem to understand each other, and partly I suppose because we’re miles apart and it seems more like a fantasy than real reality.

We’ve talked while we dated other people. He’s asked my advice several times when courting a new girl, but its never been anything serious.

Then last night, he asked my advice on proposing to her. This girl he’s been dating for a little while.

See when someone I care for, asks me for advice, I auto-pilot to give them the best advice I know, without any reguard for myself. It is how I am. I could be selfish and help him destroy his relationship, but I couldn’t face myself in the mirror let alone face him. Because honestly, I sincerely just want him to be happy, even more than the desire to be the one that makes him happy.

I’d been as clear as I could be about my feelings without actually sending him naked pictures labeled “Do Me” or sending him some silly love note. I’m also not keen, since my ex, to be the one making the overtures. I really want a guy who wants me enough, not to let me go.

It doesn’t much matter anyway. He’s head over heels. A goner. I’m sure I can hope that she’ll say no, but I know she won’t. He’s that great of a catch.

So last night, I drank up while crying into my wine. Maybe I’ll find one of my own, someday.

Simply Frustrated

I was at a meeting last night, which I was told… “My goodness woman, you should be rolling in the dough.” when I explained exactly what it was that I do.

I honestly do 3 things. I’m pretty good at two of them, and more than adequate at the other. The adequate one is the one I’m working on the most right now. Its easy. The other two are “fun” projects.

It never fails though that when I tell people the 3 things that I do, they will tell me which one I should be concentrating on to make lots of money.

“You know #1 will make you tons of money.”

“Wow, I really could use someone who does #2, you could make a lot of money at that.”

“You do #3?? I have a bunch of friends who need you. Start your own business. You’ll make tons of money.”

It’s really annoying. Mostly since I’m not making any money (ok I’m making some money, but not enough to cover bills) on any of them right now. and that no one seems to agree on which one I should be doing.

Also annoying… I’m not meeting anyone my age when I go out. It might be some kind of mental problem of mine, or maybe the world just really wants me to date someone much much older or much much younger.

Actually the other day I was making fun of this guy who I ran into on OkStupid who keeps trying to connect me with guys I would have babysat in HS. This guy claimed to be 35, but looked and dressed in his pictures as if he was maybe 23. So I complained to Holi that he was lying about his age.

She replied, “Well now isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

Which I got offended.. Cuz I don’t lie on dating sites. Period. Instead she explained,

“How many times do you bitch about guys writing you off because they think you’re too young for them?”

Holi is really a bitch sometimes. 🙂

I look young. It’s not a conscience effort. I don’t do botox or get face lifts. I honestly have never really worried about wrinkles. (knocking on wood as I type this) I just haven’t aged that much in the last 20 years. In HS, I looked early 20’s, and now I look roughly late 20’s maybe early 30’s. Absolutely no one ever thinks I’m 37, and often look at me like I’ve grown a third head when they do find out. (I also often get asked about my skin care regimen – Oh how do I stay so young?)

So anyway, back to the men I’m meeting. Pierce btw… 11 yrs younger than me. The rocker guy (I’ve not mentioned yet) 11 yrs younger than me. The annoyingly chipper but cute salesman type guy at the bar last night who locked me into an entire 45 minutes of conversation, is 11 yrs younger than me.

The other men I’m meeting are all much older. One I kinda have a crush on, is 49 and won’t give me the time of day because I’m too young (you should see the wrinkly women he does hit on). Others are 48-65. Some are attractive men and some just remind me of creepy old men.

What I really need to find is the German guy from my pool again. I’m a bad judge of age on sexy men with chests of steel, but I guarantee you he was at least my age or older. (Did I mention that I was walking by the pool to get to my car.. I see him through the break in the trees toweling off. He’s dark haired, chiseled, and wet. I can’t stop watching. He’s watching me. I look away finally, he keeps watching me. Then when I look back at him, he waves me over with a come here hand gesture then asks me to join him. If only I wasn’t on my way to a meeting. Damn it.)

Anyone know where to find the 30-40’s men? Or are they all dead?.. er married I mean.

Purposefully Seeking OCD

I’m going to admit something.. you probably already know, but something I’ve kept hidden from myself. Its how I process, I know this.. I just… well.. its hard to see what you’re hiding from yourself, because… well.. you’re hiding it from yourself.

See how that works?

I’ve been trying to re-build my life for years, with the most progress happening this last year since the divorce. I may or may not have had a “breakdown” years ago. Its hard to say, and never was diagnosed. But looking back, I have to wonder.

All I know is that somewhere along the way, I forgot how to be a functional human being. I honestly blame my ex, but in reality I should blame myself. I stayed where I should have fled.

I’m discovering little things on my road back to humanity. I forgot what it was like to take joy in doing something for absolutely no reason other than I wanted to. I forgot what it was like to actually get a real paycheck for real services rendered. I forgot that pride.

People used to call me “Monica”.. remember Monica from friends.. she was OCD, reserved, a great cook. Everything had its place. It drove her crazy when something wasn’t where it belonged.

Thats how I used to be. Seriously. Everything had its place. Somehow during the battle with my ex (who believed that everything went wherever he decided to leave it, and that fairies would move it back to its spot), up until even today, that particular OCD has gone away. (not fully, but for the most part yes.)

I was actually having a conversation with my best friend where she began to talk about how she now has my OCD… well not exactly, she’s much more of a clean-freak than I ever was. I started looking around my apartment and realized that.. I no longer have any of the “functional” parts of my OCD.

Seriously, its like apathy has taken over OCD. Like I am (was) functioning defeated. Like I’d given up.

So I’ve decided that I’m going to get it back. I’m happier with things in their place. I’m happier with a cleaner/neater apartment.

And so, I’ve been slowly digging myself out of this hole I’ve built. I can almost see my dining room table again.

I’m making a new list of “rules” and will be practicing doing them until I get back to where I was… ok maybe not the insane OCD crap.. but functional. Where I can have someone over maybe without saying “Oh, umm.. just close your eyes.”

(Btw, I have managed to rid myself of my “I need this” hoarding OCD, which I am not seeking to take up again. Thanks but that’s one I can do just fine without.)

**** For you that are grossing yourselves out with your imaginations, please understand that my mess is clean mess. I don’t have left over food containers all over, or crumbs everywhere. Its just old things to get rid of, papers to file, clothes to give to goodwill.. and some canned goods to put away.

Stop The Muffin-Top Bra

OH DEAR LORD!

I don’t talk much about fashion though I have to say I definitely have some strong opinions on it. The other night I was watching late late night TV.. couldn’t sleep.. and came across a waste of time called “The Wendy Williams Show” which I watched mostly because I was doing other things and not caring a whole lot about what was on.

Then she started talking about fashion and had a fashion expert on the show. The fashion expert had some good tips, so I paid attention.

Then Wendy and a guest (not the fashionista) began to talk about bra selection. They both said that they thought (or used to think) that having that little bubble of breast hanging over the top of the bra was sexy. They both had been told by fashion experts to buy larger (better fitting) bras.

Dear Women of the World.. (men if you disagree please comment and tell me why)

Wearing your boobs out in public in a bra that is too small causing your boobs to bubble over the top or outside of the bra.. IS DISGUSTING!

Its not sexy. It makes you look like you’re fashion stupid or poor (can’t afford an appropriately sized bra) or just a trashy woman without any taste.

Please please please.. go into your nearest department store or lingerie shop with knowledgeable staff and get yourself measured for an appropriate size.

Unlike our shoes.. our boobs size can change at the drop of a hat. Weight gain. Weight loss. Even time of the month (hormonal) can cause size changes.. which in some women can be very significant. So you may need a couple choices of fits.

For most of us women, our boobs are one of our greatest selling features when dating. When we want to look good, a good bra can sometimes make or break an outfit. (Not to mention what a good bra can do for the .. umm.. gym. – As my childhood friend said about my sister as she ran to first base in softball “Holy Cow! She could knock herself out with those.”)

Honestly women.. I cannot stress this enough.. when it comes to fashion.. to looking good.. to making an impression.. a good fitting bra is essential.

A muffin-top bra is never acceptable. So stop it… stop it now!

The Hottest Guy Comes With Wheels

So the other night, I go to this networking meeting. Pierce was supposed to be there, but thats not entirely why I went. I do have my own life outside of the urge to stalk him.

Plus the fact that he didn’t reply to my DM the other day.. he’s a little bit in the doghouse. Honestly, I’d completely write him off if he wasn’t so damn attentive last I saw him… and well if he wasn’t so damn cute.

So anyway, I go. Pierce is not there. But I honestly only notice his abscense for about the first 5 minutes.

I enter and behind me in the entrance line is my old director and her beau. This is a networking thing for the geeky. I was a little shocked that she was there and that she’d heard about it. Weird.

Anyway, we get closer to the front of the line… there’s a couple in front of me.. when a loud voice from the table says “Hey Maruska! I got ya, just fill out a nametag.”

It’s my favorite hot happily-married man. So I grin at him.

“Whaaa? you know who I am?” I say jokingly while I fill out my nametag.

Well a few minutes later after checking out who all is there (aka not Pierce), my old director finds me.

“Hey, how’d you do that?”

I look at her like she’s grown a third eye as I try to jog my memory about what I might have just done.

“Huh?”

“At the entrance, how’d you do that?” She’s looking at me as if I’m the social guru of the year.

“Oh, yeah.. I know him. No biggie. I actually know quite a few of the people here. I’m kinda geek.” I admit as I am uncomfortable with her whole “omg you’ve got the hookup” attitude… though I was a little flattered by it. She’s the Who’s Who of Independant Theatre in Austin, so it was kinda funny getting on her “respect” list for networking.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know. I just heard about these things.” She says while looking around.

I’m looking around too, but mostly for someone to motion to me and save me from what is bound to me more uncomfortable talking.

I mention to her that I need to go say “Hi” to a few people and wish her a fun evening. Then I fled.

Of course, Pierce was a no-show the entire event. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t flirting around.

Actually, I wasn’t so much flirting around as I was being flirted with. Made my head spin a little. See my little business venture is getting around I think.. or else it’s given me some kind of pheromones to attract men.

There was one gentleman I’ve met like once before. Maybe twice, but pretty sure just once. I honestly don’t know his name. He’s hot. He’s sweet. But not normally what I go for.. so not really on my radar.

But evidently I am on his. Within minutes of him seeing me, he came over and said hello. He then entrapped me into a conversation (it wasn’t torturous, pleasant really, but he obviously was not letting me just flit on by). When he was interupted by a friend of his, I turned away to see who else was interesting to talk to..

Thats when I met the hottest guy.

Seriously when I tell you this guy is hot.. I mean hot… but probably not in the way most of you are thinking.

He was well kept. Great hair. Very hot face. Hot upper body. Looked like a relaxed GQ kinda guy. But what made him hot was his communication skills. The guy could talk to you and make you feel like the only woman in the room. He also listened like every word you said was gold. Two sentences in and I already wanted to nasty things to him. Sizzling.

Weirder still.. he’s in a wheelchair. Something that normally I’d see, and check off my list of viable. But honestly, it wasn’t really noticable. In a crowd of 50 people all standing, where his face had to be butt-high at best, I didn’t really notice his chair. I simply saw a hot man. That’s how smoking hot this guy is.

There are things more important than superficiality.

By the way, I wasn’t the only girl swooning over this guy. He and I got interupted, and I left to find out if my other friends had shown up. Sure enough they had, so I did some chatting. In between conversations though, I’d go and see if hot guy was available for chatting.

He never was. Every time I went to see if he was free, he was fully surrounded by hot women. Seriously surrounded.

*le sigh*

I finished the evening having made a couple new friends, and with a few more hours of flirting under my belt.

… And with a little sadness that I didn’t get to spend more time with the hot man.

No Need To Get High, I’m There Already

So I had this interesting conversation with a guy friend the other day, and as it turns out he might be a pothead.

Once upon a time when I was just a young innocent girl (yes I know it’s hard to believe now, shhh) this revelation would have shocked me, and I’d have backed away like he said he had lice and offered me some.

Anymore though.. especially with living in Austin like I do.. it was like he said he likes to go Kayaking or White Water rafting. Two things that I don’t do and have never done, but I can sort of relate to.. sort of.

I mean I’ve been in water. I’ve been tubing. I’ve rowed a canoe and a rowboat. I can extrapolate. I’m good like that. And I’m relatively certain that my exuberance level at rowing a canoe while the other occupants were trying to tip it mid-stream probably directly correlates to the excitement of white water rapids for others. (If I’ve not mentioned my fear of water with fish in it before, please insert that context into here.) Let’s just leave out my experience with tubing while being chased by a water moccasin. They were exciting adventures. Thrilling. and semi-death defying (shut up they were too).

But back to the chat about Mary-Jo-Wanna…

I’m honestly not sure how we got to talking about it. But we started to talk about getting high and had I experienced it.

Most of my life, though I was pretty much a goody-two-shoes.. still kinda am, people often looked at me like I was.. well.. high. I related well with potheads. It wasn’t until a few years ago, that I really figured out why. And this conversation with my friend only cemented this theory for me.

See as my friend and I talked about getting high on pot, the more he explained.. the more I explained about my experiences with being “high”…

FYI… I’ve never smoked pot. Just in case you were worried. I did get a second hand high once, that was enough.. thanks.

Anyway.. the more I realized that I didn’t need Mary-Jo.

See, I get high with certain allergic reactions. (I know crazy right?) Just ask my friends. They’ve seen it. One minute I’m all fluent in English and having logical thought patterns.. the next I’m.

well.. I’m..

“Trapped in body with a broken babblefish”

And everything you say sounds like “Waaaaa Waaaaa Waaaa” (yes the Charlie Brown parents’ speak).

The world gets a little unsteady, movement feels quite like an amusement park ride, and I turn into bonafide “stupid”.. I seriously have trouble remembering my name.

I even sometimes get the munchies later.

So I don’t need no Mary-Jo.. I can get my high cheap, legally… well of course a little death defying..

Which is why I avoid it.

PS: That one time I did get second hand Mary-Jo high.. Scared the ever-loving crap out of me, I thought I was having an allergic reaction. Fortunately, no.. it just rendered me uncoordinated and a moron for a few hours. Phew.

The Read Non-Date Date Kinda

So last night I got to hang out with Pierce. It wasn’t a date or a planned event. I didn’t message him “see you tonight” even though I knew he was planning on going… I am part stalker btw… because we weren’t going together or even going to meet each other. We just both happened to be going to the same place.

Now I hoped that last night would pan out so that Pierce and I could get some one on one time, but my expectations were not high.

I get there and its wall to wall people. I see one person that I “know” and he sort of knows me. Matt knows who I am by my face. I doubt he knows my name, and while this guy is salesman nice (to everyone) he more often than not tries to get away from me asap. Its like I’ve got cooties.

So I say “Hi” to Matt, he says “Hi” in return. There’s an awkward moment, and Matt flees.

I go to the bar, grab a drink, a stiff drink, and look around for other people I might know or want to get to know. The group of people is ecclectic at best. There’s locals dressed “as you are”, business types dressed accordingly with fancy suits and well coiffed hair (obviously gay or completely new to town), and a mix of ordinary well adjusted people who dressed normal for being where we were and outside in the heat.

I’m busy watching the show when Pierce walks in. He sees me, gives me a hug, and stays to chat a bit. Mostly just talking about who is here and who we know. I mention that I only know Matt and point out where he is. Shortly thereafter, Pierce excuses himself and says something about going to say Hi to Matt. To be honest, I wasn’t listening. I was trying to watch the show and heard that he was going, and tuned out.

About 20 minutes later, when the show was over, Pierce returns to me and we talk. We talk about his work and my potential work, and this thing and that thing… and politics and BP.. He may or may not have made joking references to being too busy in college trying to get laid, and I may or may not have described my bed to him with a little too much detail (hey it fit in with the conversation I swear)… and.. then Pierce excuses himself to go to the bathroom saying quite clearly that he’ll be right back.

This time.. unlike the last time we’d hung out… It wasn’t said awkwardly or like he felt I needed some kind of pathetic reassurance in order to extracate himself… this time he said it solidly as a promise of “We’re not done here.” There was no question about it.

But I also didn’t want to just sit there twiddling my thumbs waiting for him to return. I wanted to talk to a few of the performers, and took that chance to do so.. while keeping an eye on the spot where I was, watching for his return.

I barely got a few words in with a couple performers before I saw him return looking for me. (insert big grin and an inner happy dance) So I tried to catch his eye to show him where I was. He saw me talking to the performers and came and sat down a few feet away from my new position and waited. (insert swoon)

He didn’t seem irritated. He just sat and waited. Patiently. Until I finished doing what I was doing. He didn’t come over and try to horn in on the conversation or try to pull me away. He just waited. He didn’t seem impatient or signal me to hurry up. He just waited his turn, patiently.

I seriously wanted to take him home and fuck him something rotten for that. After years of my ex being grumpy and impatient and belittling whatever it was I wanted to do… and being upset with me if I didn’t do what he wanted to do and just socially been a complete pain in my ass… This was a breath of fresh air, and had we been in a relationship, Pierce would have gotten some mad crazy girl sex. Just sayin.

Left to my own devices, I probably would have prolonged my interaction with the performers quite a bit longer.. but seeing Pierce look so deliciously patient and waiting for me.. I cut out of the conversation before I would have otherwise.

Sexy intelligent man vs really cool important people who won’t remember your name tomorrow? Uh sexy man please!

So I sat down next to Pierce, and we talked some more. And talked. And talked. Though it didn’t seem like time was really passing, other than that crazy ache to kiss him and the visual of the sun setting, I’m not sure time really passed at all while we talked.

And he was sweet. Seriously sweet. At one point the sun was in my face when I would turn to talk to him, he, of his own accord, moved his head between mine and the sun blocking it completely from hitting my face. He did this without calling attention to what he was doing. He didn’t even say “is that better” like he was expecting a thank you or calling attention to his chivalry. He just did it, and seemed pleased enough that in doing so the conversation continued to flow. He held that position, moving slightly in response to any change in my position, until the sun itself had moved to a less problematic spot. (How can I not swoon?)

We got up to refresh our drinks, and he stayed with me… not like a leech, he wasn’t glued to my side.. but near me. We continue talking once we’ve gotten new drinks, and as we’re finishing our drinks, Pierce mentions that he needs to go. I agree that its probably time to go, though in all honesty I wasn’t ready to part. I had no idea what time it was, but I was pretty sure by the fact that we were the last people there that it was in fact time to go home.

“You want to walk out together?” Pierce asks.

I barely catch it and I think that’s what he said.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” I reply.

We coordinate our exit, and walk out together. As we approach every juncture where we could have parted ways, he says “I need to go (insert direction)..” with a silent hestitation implying “which direction are you?” while almost guiding me seamlessly along as we walked together.

We went part of the way to our cars together, alas there was a fork in the road where we parted ways. We hugged quickly. Said we’d had a good time.

“Until next time” he said… or maybe it was “I’ll see you around, at the next thing” ? I don’t recall.

All I know is that there is something there. It might be as simple as friendship, or it might be something more. We’ll see.

Nearly Perfect

I just got back from a lovely day. I wasn’t sure it was going to be a lovely day when it started, but luckily God laughs at my plans.

I woke this morning after a long struggle to get some kind of sleep so I could go out with some friends today. I managed to get a whole 4 hours, and upon waking drank about a liter of Passover Coke for the caffiene to actually move.

Sometime after that, things started to look up. I had some energy, and put it to good use cleaning my kitchen while making a quick lunch, then showering, and combing my closet for outfits that were “sexy” without actually looking like I tried to be sexy. I was going to a bar to watch sports with friends. Actually dressing sexy would be overdoing it, but I figured if any of them invited someone single and hot, I should at least look good.

In the end, I looked meh. Oh well. At least I was having a decent hair day.

So I get there. And.. there’s a possibly single adonis there. I didn’t ask him if he was single.. I’m merely making assumptions on the lack of ring.

The guy was hot. Not the type I normally go for.. but I’ll make exceptions. His hair was a sandy-red-blonde, and he had the air of a real manly man. You could clearly tell that he had no trouble growing a full beard if he wanted, though he was clean shaven. His body was athletically built, like a soccer player. He wore a simple t-shirt and cargo shorts, and his outfit plus persona made me think of Matthew McConaughey. He seemed like a good guy, and even made decent conversation.

But what really caught my eye, and had me … erm.. staring at him like he was a dish of ice cream.. were two things.

First, he had a fantastic way of smiling. It was like he’d reinvented it. His entire face smiled. Lips. Eyes. Cheeks. I think even his forehead smiled. It was impossible to see him smile without wishing you could be that happy. I partly watched just to see him do it again.

But mostly I watched his eyes. His eyes shone. Glimmered really. They weren’t a remarkable color. Simple hazel-green, but they looked fantastic on him. They were mesmerizing.

Honestly, thinking back on it now.. there wasn’t much that was obviously remarkable about him. His hair was ordinary colored. His skin was ordinary “irish” white boy (the white with some freckles). His eyes were ordinary colored. He was ordinarily fit. He was ordinarily dressed.

But I promise you… the whole effect of him was nothing short of smoking hot. (I say this as a girl who normally hates white boys with freckles.)

Mmmm eye candy in person while watching eye candy run about a field on TV. The day got super better instantly.

Then I ordered a beer. They had a beer I’ve never tried before.. Widmer? On tap. In an icy cold mug the size of my head. For.. $7. And it was good beer (not Bud Light or Coors Light or normal american mainstream piss water – sorry if anyone is offended, have I mentioned I’m a beer snob?) So anyway my day got awesome quickly.

Then since I was right near my favorite shopping strip, I went shopping. I came out with a shirt and skirt that I thought was going to put me back $60, however when it was rang up it came out as $25. ROCK ON!

So super awesome day.. I drive home, because I’m supposed to actually be working on a business plan today for a client meeting in two days. I’ve done nothing with the business plan, and on my way home realize that tomorrow is nearly booked solid. So I start to panic that I’m not going to get it done.

I get home. Check my email. My client emails me “Can we postpone our meeting until later in the week? I got called out of town this weekend.”

Seriously.. it couldn’t have gone any better.

(ok.. it could have.. Mr HotBod could have asked for my number or asked me out this evening for a sexy romp.. Cuz I need one. I do… but other than that.. Perfect.)

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