Is It Possible To Make The Impossible … Possible?

Is it?  Can two people make the impossible possible?  This question comes from a personal standpoint, things going on in my life.  So let me give you the story.

Girl meets boy on a trip one evening, out of the blue.  And she likes him, in fact, the more she gets to know him, the more she likes him.  She watches his interactions with her, she looks at him when he’s talking, she finds him attractive.  He’s intelligent and funny, smiles at things with a sense of humor and wonder, and not with a sense of unease.  They are comfortable with each other, even upon that first meeting and it hits her … somewhat blindly and out of no where but it hits her.  There is a connection here.  This is a connection she wants to explore, honestly and openly.  She broaches the subject sometime later after this chance meeting, as they’ve kept in contact.  He feels and understands the connection as well. 

For the girl?  This is something worth exploring more.  She is willing to do so, considering that any obstacles can be overcome. 

For the boy?  He’s concerned about the practicality of the situation.   Because you see, he doesn’t live in my state.  Nope, he’s far away.  And his job?  Well his job hours are inflexible, he never has weekends off, and there is little to no room for flexibility in that area.  So his job, the geographical differences and practicalities do and will present challenges, yes.  He says that he is not going to push the girl away just because there are obstacles, but he doesn’t want to give her less than she deserves either.

He makes valid points, this girl can not deny that.  She also can’t deny that she appreciates his honesty, and she very much loves that he wants her to have what she deserves.  She understands what she is facing, but she still ponders this thought …

Is it giving her less than she deserves to not explore the connection?  It’s rare that you find that immediately in two people, very rare.  And she thinks, that sometimes, with effort, you can make the impossible … possible. 

She hopes anyway.  You tell me, can it work?  Can we overcome obstacles, to at least see if there is more?  Is this a waste of effort on both of our parts?

And for those of you thinking I’m writing of Irishman?  You’d be wrong.

Details, Updates and Info

Vegas is such a fun place to visit, but I think I’d be in constant trouble if I lived there, seriously.  I had a great trip, Irishman was a gentleman per the norm, we had a fabulous date night where he wore a suit and I wore Shan’s perfect little black dress, and truly, so much to talk about and such little time!  Hmm … Let me give a run down of some of the more memorable moments.

1) When standing at baggage claim with Irishman upon arrival, I see a woman taking pictures and backing up to get a better shot.  She backed up right into the spinning baggage claim and fell – into everyone’s suitcases and started moving along with it as well.  I immediately went into fits of laughter – FITS – while Irishman, who had until that moment, had not seen firsthand my reaction to people falling, stared at me in shock.  I would have apologized but talking was not an option at that point.  Eventually he shook his head, hugged me and laughed as well.

2) I go with Irishman to work, as most of you know. He’s singing, I’m hanging out in the crowd having a beer or six.  Most of the times however, it looks like I’m at the bar alone.  Which in Vegas, practically means I’m wearing a red flashing neon sign that says “HIT ON ME“.  I always, every time, politely inform everyone I meet that I’m there with Irishman.  Usually in the beginning of the night this is fine, they wander away in search of another woman.  Everyone is always incredibly friendly, as well.  However, at the end of the night?  Different story entirely.  This particular night, a man from England was heavy in his pursuit of me, and upon repeating that No, I’m not going to make out with you, and NO, I’m not going to your room with you, he drunkenly insists that he is in fact, MUCH better than Irishman and proceeds to pick me up, throw me over his shoulder and very intently tries to leave the bar with me.  I send a frantic look over to Irishman while yelling at drunk English Man to put me down, Irishman then makes a gesture to one of the bouncers, who immediately came and rescued me from drunk English Man – who was then promptly manhandled out of the bar. 

3) Tuesday night brought date night, and Irishman dressed in his finest suit and looked quite spiffy if I do say so myself.  And I do.  He took me for dinner at The Top of the World restaurant, which is located on top of the Stratosphere Hotel on the strip.  The view is stunning at night, as the restaurant is 800 feet above ground level and revolves 360 degrees to offer magnificent panoramic views.  WOW.  I was quite overwhelmed upon first arriving.  After we are seated and ordered our drinks, Irishman asks “What do you think?” and I looked at this awesome view of the city, looked back at him and said “I can’t SEE anything from here, Jesus.  Can’t we go somewhere where everyone doesn’t look like ants?” I smiled and took a drink of my martini while he choked on his own drink and of course, I cracked up and he shook his head at me, yet again. 

4) After dinner, we headed out to a lounge to listen to some live music.  Of course, there was a bunch of old people dancing and one crazy guy – you know that guy, that one younger guy who was obviously a tad tipsy, who was in Vegas making the most of it, was trying to get every woman there to dance with him (including his wife who would have no part of it), was just running around on the dance floor making everyone laugh.  Irishman and I were grinning at him quite heavily when he spots us, and I swear to the heavens his eyes lit up.  I felt instant dread.  Crazy Drunk Guy then grabbed a chair from one of the lounge tables, slid it over to us, and asked that I sit in it.  I shook my head like crazy saying “NO Irishman, NO NO NO NOOOOOOOO” all the while he was laughing and forced me to sit in this chair, which was promptly pushed back out into the middle of the dance floor where Crazy Drunk Guy decided to give me a lap dance – in front of everyone.  The crowd was going crazy,  I was deathly embarrassed but I swear, had to laugh as Crazy Drunk Guy was just LOVING having his fifteen minutes of fame, when all of a sudden, Irishman runs up, waves a twenty dollar bill at the crowd, and sticks it in Crazy Drunk Guy’s pocket.  The crowd went even MORE nuts, which I didn’t think was even possible and Crazy Drunk Guy was in his glory. It was all together crazy fun, but the guy kept his clothes on and barely touched me, and it was all in good fun.  So, when my lap dance was over, I gave Crazy Drunk Guy a hug, the crowd cheered more, the waitress brought us two shots that someone had bought us, which we toasted and drank, and back to my Irishman I went.  Just another fun night in Vegas.

5) When Irishman is working, they do take 20 minute breaks in between sets.  He and I usually spend this time together, he away from the crowds and us usually just sitting together on the patio.  This one particular time, a gentleman approached us and told Irishman he was enjoying the show, etc.  I recognized this particular man, as he had made advances toward me earlier in the evening.  When I told him I was with Irishman, he was polite and respectful and that was the end of that.  This time however, he openly asked Irishman and I if we’d be interested in a threesome with him.  Just like that, completely open and out there.  I about fell off my chair!  No one has EVER asked me anything like that before, and believe me when I say I get asked a lot of weird shit.  Irishman blinked at him for a minute, I sputtered around after choking on my beer and Irishman said, “My lady and I are happy in our twosome, thanks.”  When the man walked away, I was still staring in shock and Irishman looked at me and said “Wait!  Did you want a threesome with him?” I promptly thought about it, smiled, and said “Nah.  I’m happy in our twosome as well.”

Yeah, Vegas is nuts.  But you gotta love it. 

Sorry, Sorry

Yes I’m home!  I didn’t get home till Friday, but I’m home.  The trip was great, I had another wonderful time.  I will update more tomorrow, but for now, for all those checking in, I’m home, safe and sound and spending some Mommy & Me time with my girl.  I’ll spend some Blogging & Me time with you guys tomorrow. 

It’s Vegas Time, Baby!

It’s here! Tomorrow I’m taking that very cheap flight I found to Vegas, and heading off to see my Irishman. And I’m just about ready to go, I only need to do some laundry, get my suitcase from downstairs, pack everything, figure out what I’m wearing on the plane, what is going in the carry-on vs my suitcase … so pretty much, I have everything left to do.  I had planned on doing some of these things last night, but priorities people!  ShaNaNa dropped by and there were martini’s to be had! 

In thinking of this Vegas trip, I got to thinking of past Vegas trips.  For those of you that don’t know … below are some links to inform you of how Irishman came to be.  And for those of you that aren’t interested, stop reading here. 

So, without further ado, for your reading or rereading pleasure, here is how I first came to meet my Irishman.  Here is Part Two of that incredibly long story, and here is when he asked me to come back to visit.  This post is in regards to my crazy text messaging with him, the Wonderwall, and when Jane Wonder and I made the trek back to Vegas for the 4th of July.  The dreaded day when Irishman told me that Jane and I should bring bathing suits with us on our trip; and some recaps of the trip with Jane Wonder and I.  That my friends, should about cover it. 

Have a wonderful week, I will not be updating and as no one responded to having ShaNaNa fill in for me while I was gone, she is now refusing to do so.  Nice work, people.  Way to insult my friend. 

Chicago Man, Flowers, and Attraction

So if you read my blog with any regularity, you’ll know I met a man in Chicago when visiting Jenn and Random Esquire.  He is the man that gave me this kiss.  He is Chicago Man.  RE frequently crosses paths with my Chicago Man, and let me know that those paths would be crossing last night.  In a spur of the moment decision, I asked Random Esquire to bring my Chicago Man a flower – sort of a “I’m thinking of you” flower.  I decided on a Sunflower. It’s not mushy and sappy, it’s sort of a MAN flower methinks.  And while RE tried to get that flower for me, it was to no avail.  Chicago florists apparently close at 4pm everywhere in that big city.  <QT Grumbling>  RE was not very happy about this, as bringing a flower to a man is not something RE does.  This kind of made me laugh and I had to push all the harder for it to happen.  “Dude, you’re such a GIRL,” is the comment I received from RE.  Why yes RE, I am, and I have the goods to prove it.    And of course RE wrote about it here, as well.

What is it that attracts you to another person?  I can’t speak for men, although I do believe they are more visual creatures than women are.  I can only speak for myself.  Physical attraction, is course, the first thing that comes to mind.  Yet I must admit, I’ve dated men that became better looking to me after I’ve gotten to know them.  I remember when I first started dating Dick.  I didn’t look at him and think “DAMN“.   But after I got to know him, I realized I was completely attracted to him.  For me, attraction is based on things that don’t really have much to do with the way a man looks.  Nope, it’s about other things.  Their sense of humor, whether they truly have an interest in me, in my daughter, their sense of humor (yes, again), the ability to have a conversation without those awkward pauses (GOD that drives me insane), someone that has a good heart and that is into more than what I look like.  My Chicago Man?  The more I get to know him, the more I want to drive to Chicago to insert myself into his life somehow.  <sigh>

And while this paints me to be this awesome being, I assure you I have my shallow things as well.  A few things that turn me OFF of a man in a snap of a couple of fingers:  Incorrect grammar – in spoken or written word.  I am horrible about this, admittedly.  If a man can’t spell or use a word in a sentence correctly?  I’m completely turned off.  Short men, too.  I hate this about myself but I believe I was traumatized when in 7th grade I grew to my present height of 5′10 and towered over EVERY boy till my senior year in high school.  If a man is shorter than me I have a hard time dating him, although I realize this is utterly stupid.  I also have some QT-isms about other things … but I’ll save those for another time. 

So tell me, what attracts you to a man or a woman?  And what is it that can turn you off of a man or woman?

[Photo Credit: http://www.metaedge.ca]

Wednesday, Wednesday

Well, it’s Wednesday.  And this Wednesday thus far, has been busy.  I awoke with a phone call from my Irishman this morning at 6.30am my time, which is 3.30am his time.  Hmm, let me rephrase that.  I awoke this morning with a phone call from a very drunk Irishman, who was pleased as can be that I’ll be arriving to visit him this Saturday.  I had to laugh, I could barely make out what he was saying – between the Irish accent, the drunk slur, and the muffled sound his phone was making, I swear our conversation consisted of me saying “What was that?  What? Where?” I did manage to pick up that he has made plans for us Tuesday evening (his night off of work) and that I should bring a dress, as he has already taken his suit to get dry cleaned (I think).  And it just SO happens that Miss ShaNaNa has a fabulous dress that I’m borrowing to bring.  It’s the quintessential little black dress, and I’m pleased as punch to be able to

A) Fit into it
B) Borrow it
C) Already have the perfect shoes to go with it

And it turns out one of his friends has made plans for us to have a “Girls Night” on Sunday, in which he informed me that he already told HER that I’d be hers from the hours of 8pm to 2.30am.  And at precisely 2.30am, it is understood that I am from that point on, his.  Heh. Yeah, he made me grin this morning. 

Emilee started Pom Pom Dance last week, and it had to be the cutest thing EVER to see a bunch of five year olds learning to use their pom pom’s.  But she loved it and off we go to another class tonight.  She actually had “homework” this past week from kindergarten, in which she finished over the weekend to turn in on Monday.  She got it back yesterday and she had stickers on it, smiley faces that said “Great Job!” and she about lost her footing she was so excited.  It really brought back some memories of getting stickers on my own papers when I was her age.  And in typical Emilee fashion, she told me after seeing her stickers that she “Kicks Ass”.  *sigh*  Clearly that language comes from her father.  <QT looking around innocently>

I am wondering what you all would think of having some guest writers while I’m gone next week.  ShaNaNa would be good for a few stories, as I’m sure Let Em Breathe would too.  Of course I’ve yet to talk to them about it, what think you, lovely readers? 

Music Tributes, Two Hours and Emilee

Last night, after my girl was in bed, her lunch and snack packed, the dishwasher emptied, dirty dishes put back into the dishwasher, and the house was cleaned up to the best of my ability, I talked on the phone for two hours with my Chicago Man.  Two hours.  And it felt like it was 10 minutes.  Never any awkward silence, and of course I chatted away with an ease I felt when I was with him Chicago as well.  I admit it, I have a crush on him.  A kinda huge one.  But as we all know, my Amazing Super Power of meeting men that live no where near me kicked in here, yet again.  Alas, I still enjoyed myself, and we hung up with a promise to talk again soon. 

On the drive in to work this morning after dropping Em off at school, I was again struck by my Music Moods so I’m having some fun this morning picking songs for people.  First, as Chicago Man reads my blog, this one is for you sweets … I probably won’t ever listen to this song again and not think of you. 

Let Em Breathe – I lurve you.  This one is just for you … (Warning – breasts are shown in this video!)

ShaNaNa – While this isn’t our song, it could be. 

Jane Wonder - I hope this one brings you some memories. 

Bella – I hope you know you are important to me, even if I sometimes forget to show it.   

 

And this one, well this one, is for Emilee and I.  I love you so much sweetheart …

Fortune Cookies, Vegas and ShaNaNa

I love the weekends.  I love being able to sleep in (well, when Em is at her dad’s), having the WHOLE day to myself, to do nothing if I so choose or to do anything that I choose.  It’s that freedom feeling, and I am a big fan. 

Friday night was low key, had a few drinks with the Pumpkin.  Saturday brought me getting my toes and nails done, and shopping with ShaNaNa.  We tried on jeans and stared at each other’s butt’s like our life depended on it.  Some jeans look great from the front, and some from the back?  Oh HELL no.  At one point Shan was staring at my ass and said “Pull your shirt up” so I complied, pulling my shirt up so she could look.  I hear her start to laugh, so I peered around in the mirror so I could see my own ass; clearly her laughing was not a good sign.  And there, in the mirror, I see my thong sticking up about 6 inches from these new super “As Low As You Go” skinny jeans, and I started laughing as well.  These are the sit low on the hip jeans that are in style now.  I had to sigh as well as laugh.  What ever happened to regular old jeans that DIDN’T make your ass crack show every time you bend over.  I am a MOM for Goodness sakes, I am bending over all the freaking time.  I promptly put those in the “No Way In Hell” pile and off we went to find more clothes.  What we found however, was a Starbucks and ShaNaNa ordered herself a Frappuccino and promptly gave herself a brain freeze.  I’m telling you people, in all of my life, I’ve NEVER seen anyone drink a Frappuccino like that woman does.  It was empty within seconds, and here was ShaNaNa bouncing around going “OH OH a brain freeze!” and me staring at her like she just sprouted a pair of balls and a penis.  WTF you think is going to happen when you drink something that cold that fast?  Of course I started laughing at her and then promptly burnt the roof of my mouth with my super hot cup o coffee.  *sigh*  We are a pair, sometimes.

On a side note, I did buy some new fabulous undies – NO GRANNY PANTIES – and somehow talked ShaNaNa into going out to dinner with ME instead of heading home to have dinner with her family.  I chose PF Changs and dragged ShaNaNa there.  It was so incredibly busy, the wait for a table was an hour and a half.  We decided to try to sit at the bar and eat, it is, after all our favorite place to be.  Here we turned into bar stalkers, literally.  If a couple looked even remotely close to leaving, we were there, on top of them, waiting to sit down.  Problem is, there were OTHER bar stalkers there, clearly more experienced at this than we were.  Nevertheless, we got our seats – an hour later – and sat down to eat.  At the end of the meal, we are given our fortune cookies and ShaNaNa opens hers from the plastic packaging, eats it and enjoys.  For me, somehow, I struggle with the plastic packaging and end up using some force when all of a sudden, I used TOO much force.  I opened that cookie so hard it went flying up, up and over our heads, to land smack dab behind the bar.  AWWWWWWW MAN, MY COOKIE!  Of course Shan only sees the cookie flying through the air and turns to stare at me.  I stared back and her and sighed, eyeing her cookie, in which she promptly put in her mouth.  And we laughed, yet again.  Yup, these are the days.

I leave for Vegas in 5 days.

Things That Annoy Me

1) When my fabulous womanly intuition kicks in, yet I can’t figure out why or what the hell for.

2) The sound of Styrofoam … makes me want to hide in my closet.  Seriously.

3) People who smoke in their car at the gas pump while their spouse fills up.  Once I even saw a man smoking WHILE filling up his car.  I secretly wanted to see him blow up for his stupidity.

4) The man at the bar last Friday night who kept trying to stick his thumb in my mouth when he was dancing with me.  God only knows where that thumb has been, it’s NOT going anywhere near my mouth.  Ugh.

5) The person that clips their nails at work.  Ugh – go HOME and do that!

6) The One-Upper.  You know that person, right?  The one who always has a better story than yours, the one that always, always one-ups you.  These people are the top of my “Who I Want To Punch Hard List”.

7) The wrinkle that I found on my forehead today.  Little f*cker just appeared.

8 ) People who jam their brakes in hope of fooling the cop sitting up ahead.  And of course, I’m always stuck behind these people, and end up having to jam my brakes. 

9) People that walk around with their BlueTooth ear pieces in all the time.  I find this to be obnoxious as well – and refer to these people as BlueTOOLS.

10) Slow-Walkers.  And I don’t mean old people, they can’t help it.  I mean people my age or younger and walk like their ass is stuck in their shoe.  Add these people to the “Who I Want To Punch Hard List”.

11) A man at work who consistently insists “It’s a MUTE point.”  And all I can think is that I wish he were mute.

Destiny. Fate. What Think You?

Do you believe that things happen for a reason?  That there is some sort of significance behind events that happen, or have happened, in your life?  Call it a destiny, call it fate.  That which is inevitably predetermined. 

I sometimes struggle with this theory, but all in all, I do believe that things happen for a reason.  I always have.  However, my point of view has a twist.  I believe this: Everything happens for a reason just not necessarily for a purpose. 

Irishman says life is just a chain of moments, and that the things happening now are all directly related to the things that preceded them; that it has nothing to do with fate or destiny.  It’s all about the choices that we make.  There are things in our control, and things out of our control.  We use what we can, when we can to control life the way we want it to be.  

While I certainly think he has a great point of view here, and I’m willing to consider this as a possibility … It’s like after he and I have these conversations, I feel like I have this … big secret and I’m the only one who knows it.  Because in my head?  Would there even BE an Irishman in my life without having the Dick in my life?  That first trip to Vegas was suppose to be WITH Dick, he was going to join me.  Instead Wingman came with me the first couple of days, and then I was on my own – when and where I met my Irishman.  I have no doubt I’d never have met Irishman had I been there with Dick.  Speaking of …

Admittedly, I haven’t quite figured out the reason for Dick yet.  Perhaps he had no purpose in my life, but maybe, just maybe he left me with reasons.  One being my Irishman. Two being my blog – I’ve made friends from this blog – friends that I’ve met and become close with.  Jane Wonder and Random Esquire, for example.  They would not be in my life had it not been for my blog, and had it not been for Dick breaking up with me, there would be no blog.  And the complete sense of support I’ve felt from so many of you since this blog began … it’s humbling sometimes.  I digress …

Then again, perhaps it’s how we approach the events in our life.  Should we be looking for meaning in life’s events?  Should we be seeing these events as gifts? Lessons?  Opportunities?  Or should we just shrug them off as the old “Shit Happens” and go on our way?  I think, for me, I’d rather find the meaning in my life’s events, because otherwise, I have a feeling I’d be one helluva bitter person.  <grin>  And those that know me?  Very rarely call me bitter.  Yeah, I believe things happen for a reason.  And even if I don’t know what those reasons are right at this moment, I’ll figure it out in time.