Romeo, Oh "Romeo"?

I have been married for seven years and can hardly remember what it was like to date. Hmmm. I think that was back in the Bronze Age. Anyway, when I was single I had no fear asking a guy out on a date. Let's see. I asked a guy out in the library. I asked another guy in a club. Really, I could on and on, but I don't want you to think I'm a hussy. (Am I too late?)

I lied. I don't care if you think I'm a hussy because I REALLY want to tell you about one particular date. When I was a freshman in college, a group of girls and I went to Chili's for dinner. Chili's - baby back ribs - Chili's baby back ribs - with barbeque sauce! Sorry. I digress. But who thinks about Chili's without thinking of their baby back ribs jingle? Back to the story.

After being seated by the hostess, our server came over to take our drink order. HELLO, GORGEOUS! Let me give you a visual. Romeo (that's what I'll call him because I can't remember his name - don't judge me) was about 6', well built but not overly muscle-y and with just the right amount of tan. He had dark hair and looked like he might have been Italian. He was beautiful. And charming. And his eyes... Sigh.

I was a bit distracted at dinner. We all were. We ate. We giggled about Romeo. Then we left. The end.

Actually, not the end. But I wish it were the end.

We did leave the restaurant but I hated myself for not asking him out. I talked about it and talked about it until the girls were sick of hearing it and told me to just do it. So I called Chili's to ask him out via phone (not cell phone because back in the Bronze Age they were expensive and about the size of shoe boxes). The hostess answered. I told her the situation and she went and put Romeo on the phone.

Me - "Hi, Romeo. I know you probably don't remember me, but you waited on a large group of girls tonight. I wanted to ask you out during dinner but chickened out. Kinda regret that. Anyway, I know this sounds crazy, but would you like to meet me in a well-lit public area?"
Romeo - "Wow. I am totally flattered. Sure."
Me - "Really?"
Romeo - "Sure. Let's meet back here at Chili's next Friday at seven?"
Me - "Great. Here's my number if you want to call me. See ya!"
Romeo - "See ya."
Me - YES!

His ease in saying yes should have been a hint. Really, what sane man would ever say yes to that? I asked him out like a crazy person. I know what you're thinking. My poor husband married a crazy person. I think so too.

Romeo called me a couple of days later and we had a great conversation. We talked for hours and I was really getting excited about our date. He went to another college across town and was just a couple of years older than me. He was funny and seemed really nice. Oh. And I also remembered something about him being stunning.

Friday rolled around. I fixed my hair for hours, then tried on 20 different outfits and labored over my makeup. Ready or not, Romeo, here I come.

I arrived at Chili's. 7:00 on the dot. My heart was pounding. What if he doesn't like me? What if I'm not his type? What if we don't really mesh face-to-face? I gathered my nerves and headed to the door. All of a sudden I hear someone call my name from behind me.

Romeo - "Vicky?"
Me - I turn around.
Romeo - "Hey, it's me. Romeo."
Me - "Um. Nice to meet you Romeo."

Oh. My. Gosh. Wrong guy. You read right. Romeo is THE WRONG GUY. Let me give you a visual. This guy was blonde and pale. He's cute. But he was not THE Romeo.

We went inside and the hostess was beaming at "Romeo." After we were seated the REAL Romeo came and took our drink order. ARGH! In my head I was thinking, "Hey! Real Romeo! You are the one that I want!"

I made polite banter with "Romeo" and begrudgingly continued on with the date, hiding my disappointment. To make things even more awkward, "Romeo" was pissed because Real Romeo flirted with me throughout dinner. "Hey! Real Romeo! You are the one that I want!"

FINALLY. Real Romeo gave "Romeo" the check and the torture was nearly over. Then "Romeo" laid a whammy on me.

"Romeo" - "Hey, Vicky. I have a question to ask you but I first have to tell you that I was not completely honest with you."
Me - Great. How can this night get any worse?
"Romeo" - "I lied about my age."
Me - Oh, no.
"Romeo" - "Um. Yeah. So I'm a senior in high school, not college. And I'm just 17. But I think we could still have a great time together."
Me - Silence.
"Romeo" - "So what I was wondering was if you would go to prom with me."

You know what? I was asking for it. The laws of nature say that if you ask someone out in a crazy way, something crazy will happen in return. And crazy it was. I mean, I was on a date with a minor. Who asked me to prom.

Me - "That's so sweet of you to ask, but I've already done the prom thing a few times and I really don't want to do it again."
"Romeo" - "Yeah, but it would be so fun and my friends will think you are so cool."
Me - "Really. Thanks but I think I'll pass." They won't think I'm cool. You just want them to think you're cool.
"Romeo" - "Well, just think about and let me know if you change your mind."
Me - "That's ok. I'm sure I don't want to go."

Needless to say, I didn't go out with "Romeo" again. And I could never step foot inside that Chili's, so I had to also say good bye to Real Romeo. You would think I would have learned my lesson from that, but I didn't. I went out with a few guys after that (by the way, they asked me out). But I eventually asked out another guy who happened to be my True Romeo. We dated for a number of years, then we got married. So I guess crazy people can find true love. Or maybe my husband is the real crazy one. All I know is that I lucked out.

Stinky Poopy Head! Pffftttt!

You know what I love? Children's complete lack of a filter. I love that they can't comprehend our ridiculous rules and just call it the way that they see it. If we didn't have these rules, some of my conversations would probably go like this:

Flo the Grocery Store Cashier as she picks up and reads my US Weekly (this actually happened, but in the real scenario I was polite.)
Flo - "Well, I cain't bulieve it. Cain you BULIEVE it? I mean, I cannot bulieve *celebrity name here* took all them drugs. I mean it's like if Jeff Gordon were to do sumthun like that. I mean, would you a thunk it?"
Me - "Um. Yeah."
Flo - "HEY DOREEN! YEAH, DOREEN! COME OVUR HERE! *CELEBRITY NAME HERE* BEEN TAKIN' ALL KINE O' THEM IL-LEGAL DRUGS! CAIN YOU BULIEVE 'AT?"
Me - Looking at Flo in disbelief and staring wide-eyed, trying to give her the hint to MOVE ON.
Flo - "I jus' cain't bulieve this," as she sympathetically shakes her head.
Child Me - "Well I can believe it because it happens everyday. Just go ahead and scan the damn thing so I can get out of here. By the way, Doreen looks like she doesn't give a flip. Stinky, poopy head."
Real Me - Wait politely until she puts down the magazine and finishes scanning my items. When she's done, I say "Thank you!" like we're BFFs and walk out.

Another true story. My parents and I went to a fast food fish joint for dinner one night and got into a lengthy discussion about one of my favorite topics - food. Sitting next to us is an employee. He's a string bean of a guy in his early 20's. To protect the innocent, let's call him Cletus.
Me - "Oh Dad. I made the best meal the other night. I cooked some black eyed peas with salted pork and mixed greens with a ham hock. Yummers. But my corn pones were terrible. The dogs didn't even want them."
Dad - "Well when are we coming over for dinner?"
Me, Dad and Mom - Laughter.
Cletus - "You know what's good? Chicken Bog."
Me - "Excuse me?"
Cletus - "I said Chicken Bog. It's like a stew with rice and chicken and sausage. It's really good. I'm from the Carolinas and we're known for that."
Me - "Um. Yeah."
Cletus - "Yeah. It's really good. But I cain't tell you my secrut ingredient."
Child Me - "Guess what. Chicken Bog is a grody name for food. Now I'm gonna eat my grody fast food fish and hang out with the parentals. You can keep the bog and your secret ingredient to yourself. Pfffttttt!"
Real Me - "Wow. That's great. Thanks for sharing. I may try it one day." I turn to Mom and Dad and give them that is-he-for-real look.

Yup. That's right folks. I am a magnet for people with inappropriate conversation starting skills. I must have that I'll-be-nice-to-anyone face. I just thought I had an Asian face. But whatever.

Back to the point. My four year old daughter's sweet innocence is still unfiltered. I love that she says I have bad breath in the morning, stinky feet when I wear those old shoes and a squishy bottom. She speaks the truth without judgment. She still loves everyone, even with their imperfections. There is a freedom in children that adults lose. And for some reason, we continue to shape our children so they can become like us -to grow up to be people too afraid to tell the total truth because sometimes the truth harbors painful judgment. Thankfully we'll eventually get there again as elderly folks who aren't afraid to yell at young punk kids, drive turtle speed in the fast line without a care and fart in the pharmacy.

Our World

I've found a new game. I love it. I am trying REALLY hard not to become addicted to it. It's called Our World. I just started so I haven't figured everything out just yet, but I love it. Slightly embarrassed that I love a site that primarily draws teenage girls, but I did love Twilight, so go figure. (Team Edward!)

I have a character named Victorie (very original). Her goal in life is to rack up coins and gems so she can buy stuff like clothes and furniture. She earns coins by playing online games. I'm telling you, this is a slippery slope of online gamedom.

Another objective is to make friends and interact with other characters (or is the correct term avatar?). Victorie has not made any friends yet. She just walks around aimlessly then plays a game in the arcade. I think she has social anxiety.

One Track Mind

Wow. It has been ages since I've posted something. And for good reason. I have a one track mind. No, no. It's not what you think.

I am a HORRIBLE multi-tasker, which is quite funny as my job demands that I do 10 zerbillion things at the same time. Impossible I tell you! Anyway, I've been very focused on non-bloggy matters, therefore the blog suffers. I must get my priorities straight.

Examples of non-bloggy matters:

• Family
• Work (of course)
• The new elliptical machine (I would write about this, but I'm not obsessed yet)
• My broken down car (seeing her splayed open in the shop was like identifying a loved one in the morgue - heart wrenching)
• Buying a new car (love my new Toyota Highlander! As you can see, I move on quickly.)
• Upcoming beach vacation and wishing I got the elliptical machine sooner
• New book club (we're reading Beth Moore's new book So Long Insecurity. Perhaps this will help with the beach trip.)

So there are my excuses, I mean distractions. Plus I am not really obsessing about anything right now, which is totally out of character. Not a single celebrity. Not any kind of music. Or even food for that matter. Maybe I need to see someone about this...