NOT

Ok. So I'm not Mrs. Robinson after all it seems. I've decided against swimming in the kiddy pool. Or the kiddy pool lifeguard told me to get out and go back to the grownups' pool. I can barely swim so I spend minimal time in any pool. I have, however, decided to proceed with a radical haircut and color and change my wardrobe to go with it. All coinciding with what I am currently calling my "upcoming imprisonment" i.e. the move to the ex's basement. The next months will be an exercise in thinking positively. Keeping my eyes on the prize. Lots of reading and going to the gym.

I've read two books in the past few weeks. First, "Michael Tolliver Lives", by Armistad Maupin. A latter day Tales of the City follow up but stands alone well on its own. I identified strongly with Mr. Tolliver as he adjusts to life at middle age. Except, unlike me, he did get the prize from the kiddy pool. Just finished "Blame" by Michelle Huneven. Katie Crouch (a Southern writer who I enjoy) posted positively about this on her facebook page; it was sitting on the shelf at my branch so I picked it up. Alcoholic young woman runs over two Jehovah's Witnesses and goes to prison. Gets out and rebuilds her life. It was pretty good. That's about all I have to say about that. Now looking for the next good read. And waiting out this bug that has me down so I can get my ass back to the gym!

Mrs. Robinson

I recently met a very nice young man at a local restaurant/bar. Of course he was young enough to be my son and the conversation we struck up was mainly focused on my teenage daughter and the issues we are having these days. I was information seeking.... looking for insight from a younger person who appeared pretty hip with all his piercings and tats. Indeed he was cute as hell and, like I said, young enough to be my son. And not by Ozark standards. We friended each other on facebook, ran into each other again. And then it came. The "sexy librarian" message. As in "is the sexy librarian at home alone tonight?" Wow. W.O.W. I can honestly say I never saw that one coming. Not only am I totally NOT sexy, I am out of shape and (did I mention) old enough to be his legit mom? And did I mention that he is insanely attractive (as in HOT)? He came over and we chatted a while and then he finally just laid it out there. What he wants to do with me. And it is NOT to start a book club. Very little shocks me after all these years but I must say I was at a loss for words. Other than, "well that's really flattering but I'm not sure I'm ready for that"..... I mean my self image is at an all time low. I told him maybe after I went to the gym for a few months we could think it over. Of course he replied he'd give me a better workout than the gym.... gahhhh. Uh. Wha??? Now I'm thinking about it. Like thinking about it a lot. This blog was not supposed to go down to the depths of depravity that my other blog did but this is such an amazing situation for me I'm blogging it. I told him I had to blog about it. No names. All private. But DAYUM!!!! I feel crazed!!! It's a good feeling! I'm going for it..... No going gentle into that good night crap for me!!!!

The House That Built Me

I watched the Grammys last night and was oddly transfixed on Miranda Lambert singing her country song "The House That Built Me" - all about returning to her childhood home and asking to be let in by the new owners...the memories, etc. I'm not a big fan of the "new country" style of music but this song was speaking to ME! I had always wanted to go back to the house where I spent the "good" part of my childhood in South Carolina - to go through it to see how it looked and felt. I fantasized about it, had dreams about it throughout my entire life since age 10, which was when we moved from the "good" house to the "not so good house".

I moved away from my hometown after college, first to different parts of the state and then to the west coast. But every time I visited my parents I would inevitably end up driving by the house on Wittering Drive. Several times, usually. I wanted to buy that freaking house and make it mine I loved it so much. Alas, it changed owners several times over the years and I heard that at one point it was owned by a fellow who grew up just down the street, who I had known as a child. Still the drive bys continued into my 50's. I never stopped or made contact with the owners.

Then a few summers ago I was home visiting my mom and decided to go for a nice long walk to relieve the stress that comes with visiting my mom. I walked clear over to the old neighborhood and to the house. There were two little girls playing in the yard. I popped out my earbuds, shut down my music and approached them to ask if their parents were home. They were beautiful little girls and didn't seem at all phased by the strange lady who just walked into their yard. The South is like that sometimes. Gentle and sweet and open. They probably just assumed I was a neighbor walking down the street.

I approached the door of the house and a nice looking woman came out to greet me. I explained who I was and that I had grown up in the house. As I was explaining, out popped her husband, my old friend Bill Bunch. Bill, my childhood crush, was now the owner of my dream home. He recognized me immediately! He was so glad to see me! It was like we were still friends, after 40 years of not seeing each other. They invited me in and let me look around the house. It was totally different. Totally remodeled. Nothing looked very familiar except for the screened back porch. Still, just standing in the house and talking to an old friend and his wife gave me such a warm feeling of being "home". I was so happy I had made the decision to finally do what I had wanted to do for so long.

As I walked home in the lush afternoon heat I was happy. That's how the South is sometimes. Gentle and sweet and open.

The Plan

of the week is that I will move into the basement of my former home. The home currently inhabited by my soon to be officially legal ex-husband. We can chalk this up to the economy. It feels a bit like I'm going to a bunker to wait for the end of the world. But to put a positive spin on it, while I will be living in less than ideal surroundings, I can save money toward deposits on a new and better place. And help with keeping the house out of foreclosure. I'll also have more control over the daughter who is so scattered right now I'm afraid she is going to blow away in the wind. So that's the plan. End of March. In the meantime I'll be working on renovations in the basement. First up? A better handrail. One designed to assist an elderly lady with bad knees in maneuvering those steep stairs. Those are the same stairs I fell down a few years back when I almost literally broke my neck. Scary! Maybe a system of ropes and pulleys?

Gag

There are some things that people should never see. I see many of these things in the library. I do not get paid enough for the brain scarring that I get from the things I see. Today. A scruffy middle aged dude walks quickly past the reference desk moaning and gagging. He pulls something out of his mouth, moans and gags some more, and then puts the thing back into his mouth. I don't know what it was and I don't want to know. It was brown.

Now I am going to goudge my eyes out and disinfect my entire existence.

Bilbys in a Hat

But I'm a Librarian!!!!!

Recently I met a fellow at a local bistro while treating myself to a yummy dinner. We exchanged info and friended on Facebook. Made a few attempts to get together but it didn't work out. Until the other night when he asked if I wanted to go to the bistro again on Friday. I was all stoked for good food, a nice guy, a chance to have a normal (what I thought was a) "date".

So it seemed we had a pretty nice time. When the bill came I thought I should chip in... was it a date or not? And if it was a date should I expect him to foot the bill? No. In fact he seemed pretty intent on figuring out how to split the tab. Being in the last stretch of my available cash till payday, I paid for my share of food and wine, which was about 40 bucks roughly. The total tab with tip came to $120. Not exactly sure how or why it was so much. I think he was drinking the good stuff and I was just drinking the house chard.

Whatever. I should have just split it with him and left it at that. At parting, I gave him a hug and told him next time I'd repay him. Seemed relatively okay with me.

As a follow up the next day I sent a friendly message on facebook with a little joke about how I semi-stiffied him. Yes I said STIFFIED. A little sexual innuendo. Funny? Apparently not. He replied that yes, he did feel stiffed and shouldn't have been left with 75% of the bill and remind him next time to go dutch. OUCH.

I don't think there will be a next time. I'm all for equality and equity and blah blah blah. Just because I'm a part time librarian and he is a full time worker in a well paid position doesn't mean I should assume he would take the brunt of the bill. But was his response to my message warranted? Couldn't he just have said "Yep, next time you pick up the tip"....... or something a little less irritating? I guess the dude don't do fat chicks after all. Not even if I am a LIBRARIAN!!!! I thought my near sainthood status was good for a few drinks at least! Wrong again crazy library lady. Wrong again......