Plenty of Fish…errr…losers

In my 32 years of life, I have discovered, embraced and rejoiced in my hopelessness romantic-ness.  From my five year old desire to marry Optimus Prime to my belief (this ended seven months ago when I met the love of my life) that James Franco and I are soul mates, I have been fascinated by love creation of relationships.

I’d like to think that we all have someone out there that fits us perfectly.  Some of us find this person at the grocery store, others at a cute bookstore, others at work (like me!). Sometimes we have I facilitate this process.  This leads me to this evening.

My sister is a beautiful 25 year old young man. She is an amazing mother to the coolest four year old ever (no, seriously. My nephew is cuter than any kid you can mention), she has impeccable taste in clothing and is super funny and intelligent.

So you would think, she would have zero dating problems correct? Wrong! We live in San Antonio, Tx, one of the countries fattest cities, and definitely not leading the nation in educational attainment. So she has resorted Sita dating site that claims there are plenty of fish out there.  Tonight, as we scrolled through the list of potential suitors, I was amazed that so much loser could be found in one place.

List of men that my sister has to filter through:

The I lie about my height because I am an average 5’7″ male and am so uncomfortable in my own legs.

The I know we’ve never met but can I come over to your apartment and meet you for the first time at fifteen minutes to midnight.

The I don’t have a job but I’m always driving around all day (ahem, drug dealer).

The I’m going through a divorce and I need a woman’s attention to validate me since my wife slept with my best friend.

The I know you have a kid but I have to ask every five minutes if you will have your child today since evidently I’ve been with woman that have zero parental responsibility.

I suggested eharmony. You get what you pay for so the quality of men might be a of a higher caliber…ummm better.

I write this as I watch my husband play Mass Effect 2, while he eats chips and salsa and hones his inner 12 year old.

the fruits of my labor

On my way to becoming a bonafide tagger…

Purpose and caffeine

I’m sitting here trying to learn how to tag. A 16 year old student is telling me to just blend the letters and I can not understand what that possibly means.The entire time I was an art student in college we never had to blend letters. We blended colors but not letters. Today is day 14 of trying to figure out what I am supposed to do with my life.

I will take graffiti artist off my list.  Next cheesy dirty romance level writer. Maybe.

A perfectly selfish day.

Today I did something completely out of the ordinary. I chose to take a sick day, just for the hell of it.  I decided on Friday, at the suggestion of my wonderful husband, that I had more than earned a three-day weekend.  The purpose of today was to clear my head and decide which way to move forward in my professional life.  Instead, I spent the day watching a  movie, meeting my sister for lunch and grocery shopping.  And I did get a little thinking in here and there.  

A week and four days ago I was fortunate enough to be a part of a very critical moment. A moment that changed drastically my role at work.  The details of that will come later.

Welcome to this blog.  Welcome to the process.

I’d offer you coffee but I seemed to have run out.