Dont Mince Words

I hate beginning new relationships late in the year. I freeze activity from Thanksgiving through Valentine’s day in order to avoid awkward invites to family events and eat bad chocolate. This year I was moving across country, getting settled, and dealing with my mother’s death. It was a perfect time not to date.

I kicked off the new dating season by meeting a friend of a friend. As a favor to her, I connected with him on Facebook and decided to meet on his day off “next Friday.” Well, that Friday was Valentine’s day and I didn’t realize it, but it was ‘brews and blues’ at a local ale house, so how bad could it be.

During the week, I got to know the guy better and it was not a pretty picture. He’s still married but trying to divorce his wife of 20-some years. His house needs to sell but mortgage is underwater. He lives with a high-functioning autistic 19 year-old.  He lost his job during the down turn and is now an hourly employee.

I showed up because where there’s beer, there’s a way. And I need to get out. He was short and petite and wreaked of cigarettes. I had an IPA while he sipped on  diet coke. The band was good, but I was safely home after the second set. The next day, I discovered through a Facebook post that I had attended an AA event. That explained the slow service from the bar, the 5 p.m. start time, and the lack of drinking. I suppose he was testing himself since he mentioned his sponsor was on speed dial.

This was my inaugural date for the 2014 dating season. When you aim low, it can only get better.

My biggest fear when I moved to Virginia in the winter was exercise.  I know, I know. But in Santa Barbara and Los Angeles I did a lot of walking and hiking. To move and immediately get hit with single-digit temps was scary.

Five additional pounds later and I developed a solution based on my age and physical capabilities. Your Layoff Lady of Leisure / Heiress bought an elliptical trainer. I created a home gym in my second bedroom. I hate going to gyms and this is the only piece of equipment I’ve always loved. In a week, my FitBit tells me I’ve gone 45 miles and shed 2.5 pounds. I credit new sneakers and a reduction in my Cougar Town-sized glasses of wine (except when it snows).

I’m not sure what you are supposed to do when you inherit money, but I know my mom, who has told me to lose weight my whole life, would have approved of this purchase. Giving up excesss volumes of wine? She’d question that.

The scariest thing a woman has to do in a new town is find a hairdresser. It is even harder when you have wavy or curly hair. There’s an art to it. Thanks to Yelp, I found a hairdresser that could deal with me and impart wisdom at the same time.

Kate went to my college and left Richmond just like me. She ended up in Seattle, but eventually came back. She liked the health-conscious aspects of west coast living. What drove her away?  No sarcasm.

“What is it with those people? They just can’t handle sarcasm.” she asked.  I laughed and told her I had the same experience. My solution was to avoid the natives and befriend people from Texas and the east coast. I told her about my first Los Angeles boyfriend who asked me, politely, to stop using sarcasm because he couldn’t keep up and respond to me appropriately.  “You dumped his ass, right?” Kate asked.  Oh yes I did.  From there on out, when online dating, I remembered to ask the important “where did you grow up” question.

So when people ask “you left California to come back here” I can honestly put the lack of sarcasm at the top of the reason list, just above cost of living. I’m home.