Category Archives: memories
on and off in 36 hours – an autobiographical short story
A friend of mine recently decided to get back into the online dating scene. I encouraged her because, well, why not? Anyway, somehow, I ended up back online myself (and somehow involved some encouragement from said friend) after over a year and swearing up and down, right and left, backwards and forwards that I would never do it again. Ever. Period. No matter what. But, I guess we are all entitled to change our minds. I mean, isn’t that what makes us human? Isn’t that how we progress?
After going out Friday night, I got home and back online. I reactivated my profile on my site of choice, changed my pictures, changed my greeting, removed a lot of the information I had previously shared, and voila. I was in business. Considering I am writing a post about it today, Sunday, it should be no surprise to you that I have decided that this was a bad idea.
Now, I’m not going to knock online dating in general. I know there are people out there who have met their spouses this way. I don’t have any kind of fundamental problem with it. Hell, I was engaged to someone I met online…although, perhaps that isn’t the best proof that I’m not going to rip a hole in it. Whatever. But, I am going to say that, for me, right now in my life, I have no desire to do it.
I think part of my willingness to get back online was that I am seriously so busy that I just don’t have time to meet new people, unless we happen to cross paths through work (not likely since most all of the men with whom I work are married) or school (being that it’s Provo, most of the guys that I would consider old enough to date are also married). I’m sure some of you are thinking, “but you make time to post to your blog everyday”, which is true, but posting here is part of my sanity, along with my running. I really don’t have time to make the effort, you know, to go out of my way to be flirtatious, etc. And the truth is that, while there are guys I am interested in now and again, guys that I would like to date should they ask me out, I don’t feel like I’m missing anything right now. And I’ve finally stopped worrying about whether or not I will ever get married. Nothing breeds regrets of the past like worries of the future, so I’ve stopped.
Well, after my friend decided to get back online, I started thinking. Maybe not caring is not super healthy. Maybe I should care. Maybe I should be actively seeking a relationship. So back online I went. I was hopeful, because, even though I may not appear this way on the surface, deep down (way, way down, hidden in the depths of my soul) I am chronically and painfully optimistic. The problem with optimism is it doesn’t leave much room for sarcasm, and well, I love sarcasm, so I often appear a little cynical. Whatever. A post for another day.
Fast forward 36 hours. I’m done. I cannot do it. Sure, it was a good ego boost for the 36 hours. But it was also a reminder of how many weird guys are out there. Now, I know that there are lots of guys who online date who are not weird, they just aren’t the ones that want to chat with me. Or, maybe they do, but they, like me, are a little slower, a little more conservative, so they aren’t quite so bold and forward as the crazies. Not only that, but it is like this timeless black hole that sucks away the hours of my life.
For those of you unfamiliar with the ongoings of the Internet as a meat market, I present to you a case study in online dating (and for those of you who are all too familiar with it…you can just enjoy knowing that, no, you aren’t the only one):
Introducing: Bachelor #1***; we’ll call him George*. George invites me to chat. I accept the invitation. Sure, why not, right? At this point, my new pictures have yet to appear and the old ones have been removed. In other words, I was sans picture. So, we’re chatting. I don’t remember most of the boring, get to know you, beginning (another thing I don’t love about online dating, or any setup type dating, for that matter), but I decide to ask him why he decided to IM me, because I’m curious considering that, at this point I have no picture up, and guys are generally fans of pictures and my “greeting” basically consists of a quote and two lines stating that I a) prefer profiles with pictures and b) am not interested in dating someone over 36. There are a lot of 40+ single men out there looking to get hitched.
In answer to my question, George basically says, in many more words than this, that it was the hypocrisy of my greeting. Well, that makes sense. I mean, I basically wrote that others should post pictures because “it’s only fair”.
But then he adds, “and you sound cute.” Really? First of all, I don’t “sound” anything. It’s words on a page, that you are reading. But, that’s just semantics. We all say things like that…no big deal. Moving on…I find it interesting that from a quote and two sentences he deduces that I am “cute”. I’m intrigued at this point. Not interested, but intrigued. And then he does it. He makes me hate him. But a little explanation first. On this particular site, in your profile, there’s a place where you have to enter your “body type”. Well, I’ve played this game before and there is no way that I’m going to sugar coat anything, nor am I going to avoid the topic. Sure, you can put, “I’ll tell you later”, but I have no desire for that to be a question that needs to be discussed, so I opt for the “I could maybe lose a few”. Their nice option for, “I’m chubby”.
Back to the story. What was I saying (see, semantics…I wasn’t ‘saying’ anything, I was writing)? Oh yes, that George makes me hate him.
George: And you sound cute…well, except for the “I should maybe lose a few” thing.
Yes. Seriously. Not exaggerating. Not lying. Not making it up. Absolutely true. Well, I have a pretty healthy sense of self these days…and, in case you haven’t figured this out from reading my blog, I can get a little feisty when I’m fired up. And it’s not that I really care that he has issues with weight, but why IM me if you have issues with it, when it’s there, stated in black and white, totally obvious?
So, a conversation ensues about whether or not a girl can be cute and need to lose weight, or if it is only at the exception of needing to lose weight. Blah, blah, blah, 30 minutes of my life wasted. Although, it does feel good to know that, immediately following his asinine comment, I know this will not go anywhere. I don’t allow George to justify himself. I just close the door to any possibility.
Now, this might seem a little extreme on my part, but had you been through what I went through last year, you would have done the same. A trial, I might add, that could have been easily avoided had I just closed the door when my Internet caller basically said, “I looked at your pictures more closely and, I feel awful about it, because you are amazing, but I’m having secondary emotions.” Translation: “I really like you and I think you are amazing, but I am having a hard time getting past your weight.” Well, that’s fine that he felt that way, but I don’t want to be with someone who a) has issues with my body and b) feels that it’s okay to say that to me, in the name of being honest. I mean, if that’s how you feel, fine. Just don’t date me. And, lest you think my interpretation a bit excessive, just know that this was a much discussed topic over the subsequent six months of our “dating” and engagement**. (I’m still single, so you do the math).
Moving on…Bachelor #2; Ted* from Sandy. Ted starts the conversation by telling me I’m hot (my pictures are up at this point) which is one of my most favorite things for a guy to say to me. I’m sorry, but “You’re hot”? Really? I mean, I’d liked to be flattered, but “hot”? And then he asks what I am doing that evening…this is now Saturday.
Me: Actually, I’m going to a comedy club and then out for gelato.
Ted: That sounds fun, but then you’re coming over to go hot tubbing with me…naked.
Me: Buh bye.
No need to respond to that one. Honestly, let’s consider the alternatives. Scenario 1: Ted is serious. Okay, nothing to consider there. Gross. Scenario 2: Ted is joking. What on earth is funny about that? Scenario 3: Ted is testing the waters. If I’m game, he’s serious. If I’m offended, he’s joking. Unfortunately for Ted, not one of the three alternatives appeals to me in the slightest.
Bachelor #3 of the experience is Hugo*. Hugo is actually pretty nice, and funny, and quite enjoyable. The “conversation” flows and he asks me interesting questions…creative “get to know you” questions. Then comes his two divorces. Now, for fear that you think me terribly judgmental, let me say this. First of all, a divorce is not a deal breaker. Second of all, I realize that there are a lot of divorced men and women out there and that many of them are good people, people I would date, or set up on dates. However, twice divorced at 29, both marriages lasting one year…red flag. And, I being the way I am, am just honest about it. Not to mention the fact that he lives in Boise, ID which is about 5 hours from me…and a few other issues. Anyway, that chat ends amicably enough. But I am still not encouraged.
And Bachelor #4…the one who turned the key in the lock on the door I call Internet dating…is Duff*. Duff is 40 and lives in Salt Lake. While, it clearly states in my greeting that “I have nothing against older men, but 36 is about my limit, so if you are over that, I am not interested”, he apparently has not read that far when he invites me to chat, as evidenced by the fact that two minutes into our conversation, he says, “Oops, it looks like I’m over your age limit.” Right now, I’m bugged because, while I definitely enjoy it when men find me attractive, I hate feeling like someone chose to chat with me based only on my pictures. I realize that is a little unfair, considering how very little I have written about myself, but still. I have written so little that he should have read it.
Well, Duff is nice enough, so I say, “Well, there are exceptions, but yes, you are over the age limit.” As evidenced by the next 30 minutes of my wasted time, this is the wrong thing to say. What follows is a virtual monologue about how I am just scared that he is the one, that I should just go out with him and accept that he is meant for me, that there is obviously a reason we had “met” since he is planning on canceling his membership on Monday. Please. Fate? Seriously? At one point he even says, “So, why don’t you just accept it and marry me?”
Wow…that is a first. While this is not the first time someone has asked me to marry him, it is the first time I am asked via instant message, where the suitor is someone who knows next to nothing about me. Perhaps the quote I put at the beginning of my greeting (I like quotes rather than descriptions for whatever reason) is a little too encouraging:
I still think that this is a fantastic quote, but perhaps I needed to temper it by saying, “And should seven days be enough, I still have every intention of dating for at least a year before I even think about getting married”. Maybe that would have staved off Duff’s desires.
In any case, I proceed to explain to him that part of my reasoning in not dating men over 36 is that most of those men (at least the Mormon ones) are all hot to get married and settle down. I, on the other had, am not. Especially not right now. I tell him that “I’m sure eventually I will be there, when the time is right and the right person comes along.”
Duff: Well, how do you know that the time isn’t right now and that I’m not the right person?
Me: I don’t, but our conversation thus far is a pretty good indication that this is going nowhere.
Duff: Why don’t you just go out with me?
Me: What?
Duff: Let’s go out. Right now. (It is currently about 2:30 in the am). Where do you want to meet?
At this point, I should just leave the conversation, but I have this inherent need for people to like me, even when I don’t like them, so I don’t. This is a big part of the reason that Internet dating is not for me. Anyway, another 30 minutes later and I finally say goodbye.
And that is when I know it’s over. My relationship with online dating has come to an end. I wasted (yes, I consider the entire time a waste) over four hours of my life during a 36 hour period. Four hours! That’s enough time for me to take a practice GMAT, run a good portion of a marathon (I wish it was enough for me to run the entire thing, but it’s not), fold my laundry (which, incidentally, did not happen yesterday) or myriad other things.
So, I am done. I cannot do it. There are so many things about it that just don’t work for me. First, there’s the fact that people can be anyone they want to be online. Second, there’s the fact that the majority of guys who are interested enough in me to initiate a conversation have serious issues…or live in some foreign country and, I’m pretty sure, are just looking for a green card. Third, no matter how attractive someone is, you are always somewhat thrown when you first meet them. No matter what. You have only seen a picture, but once you start chatting or talking on the phone, you start to imagine what they “look” like…hand gestures, facial expressions, etc. And it doesn’t matter who it is, you will never imagine it correctly.Something that can be overcome quite easily when the attraction is there, but…still a pain to deal with.
There are a plethora of reasons that I will no longer date online, but I will just mention one more: the logistics of the online date. If you meet someone who’s local, it’s no big deal. You can go out once and be done with it, except that you have to worry about whether or not they have stalker potential (which is sometimes hard to discern) because they are local. But, if there’s any kind of distance, there’s going to be an investment. I mean, unless the person is conveniently located in a location where you would normally travel for other purposes, you are going to have to decide that this person has enough potential that you would travel for several hours, find somewhere to stay, and then have the desire to spend enough time with them to make the expense worth it. I speak this from much experience; a trip to Washington, and another to North Carolina. It becomes an investment before you even know the person. And sometimes the investment makes you do crazy things…like trying to make something work that just won’t.
I do want to reiterate that I do not think online dating is wrong, or bad, or anything of that nature. I’ve met some really quality men through online dating…with some of whom I am still in contact. I even think that, if I were willing to get online and weed through all of the “winners”, I could probably find someone I actually wanted to date. But, I’m just not willing to do that. And I’m not saying that I wouldn’t date someone I’d met online…but I don’t want to online date. Yes, there’s a difference. Think about it.
So finally, here’s to the end of my relationship with Internet dating, to the end of waiting and hoping that “so and so” will invite me to chat, to the end of checking my email an infinite number of times per day, in the hope that a particular someone emailed me, and to the end of anxiously anticipating dates that end in disaster after hours have been invested in a relationship that was not to be.
*Names have been changed to protect the guilty, the clueless and the otherwise socially inept.
**I’m really not bitter towards guys who know what they are and are not attracted to. There are definitely things that I don’t find attractive, however, I don’t ever say anything. If a guy is so great that I stop noticing whatever it is, well there you go. If not, that’s okay, too. But there’s absolutely no point in taking any sense of self-worth away from someone by stating what you don’t like about their physical appearance, when a) it just doesn’t matter that much and b) if not me, someday, someone else will love him for exactly who he is. Am I being unrealistic? Should I be okay with someone telling me that he likes everything about me, except my body?
***In the original version of this post, I had written “Guy”, but then Cindy left a comment using “Bachelor” and it sounded better, so I edited.
of mom and memories
Today would have been my mom’s birthday if she were still alive. I spent a good portion of the day thinking about her (it’s a little hard not to on her birthday). There are moments when I still miss her so much it hurts. Today, however, was not one of those days. Today I just remembered all of the great times we had and how much fun she was. Today, I thought about how lucky I am to be her child.
There’s a line in Steel Magnolias (one of my mom’s favorite movies) that Shelby (Julia Roberts) says that I absolutely love, and I feel like it’s totally applicable:
I feel like I got a lot more than 30 minutes of wonderful. I got 18 years.
There are hundreds of things I could share about my mom, but I think I’ll just share a few of my very most favorite things. Here’s a little taste of my wonderful:
My mom loved unicorn pops (you know, the lollipops shaped like a unicorn’s horn?), orange kool-aid ice cubs, cocktail onions, crushed ice, gardenias and the color peach. Yep…she was a little quirky.
I could wake my mom up at any hour of the night or day (provided she could stay awake) just to tell her about my day. It didn’t matter if nothing happened. She would always listen.
She was an amazing seamstress. A week before the dance, I had finally found a dress for my senior year Homecoming, only to find out that my best friend, Ashley, had found and purchased the same dress. So, what did we do? My mom and I headed to the fabric store, found a pattern and some fabric and off she went. She was sewing the hem as my date was walking up to the door to pick me up, but it was perfect. (I don’t have a picture of the dress in digital form, but if I remember to scan it, I’ll put it in.)
We could always hear my mom coming home before we ever saw her. She would come tearing into our court in the “party van” with the windows down and Neil Diamond blaring!
“On the boats and on the planes…“
My mom had an open door policy at the house. I can’t tell you the number of times I would get home to find my friends already there.
My mom’s best friend, Sydne, is a florist and throughout my youth, my mom would help Sydne with weddings and boutiques. Along the way, she picked up a few things, so my senior year, she made our little flower crowns for the Homecoming game (a tradition for all of the senior cheer and song leaders). She made all seven of them (I think maybe I helped a little).
My mom taught me that the only way the shower is truly clean is if the water is sheeting down the tile. Not sheeting = not clean.
My mom also taught me how to make a bed with hospital corners and how to fold towels the right way.
My mom loved to travel and she instilled this same love in me.
I learned how to bake because my mom was always happy to have us in the kitchen.
Christmas was her favorite holiday. She would decorate the house to the hilt. We had wreaths and sleighs and Apple Dolls (yes, weird) every where. We decorated gingerbread houses (she made the actual gingerbread from scratch) every year. We helped her make toffee and caramel and fudge for our teachers and neighbors. And we always had two Christmas trees. One for us to decorate and one for her…it was always flocked (you can see it in the background of the picture…please ignore the girls in front of it…silly teenagers) and if we wanted to help with that tree it was her way or no way.
Speaking of Christmas…I snooped one year and told Ashley (she’s the top center…and happens to be Sydne’s daughter) what I saw. It was a little video camera with a t.v. for kids. Ashley told Sydne. Sydne told my mom and, guess what. No video camera was found under the tree. My mom believed in her principles…one of which was not snooping.
I learned, by example, how to apply all of my makeup while driving (because she was a firm believer in makeup and she was always running late…she would even curl her hair in the car…do you remember those butane curling irons?) and I think about her often as I apply my mascara in the car on my way to work.
Speaking of butane curling irons…I also learned that it is completely possible to camp (I mean real camping, out in the woods, under the stars) and still look good. Yep…curling irons at camp, no electricity necessary.
When I was little (and this was still legal), my mom would bake sugar cookies for my entire class on my birthday and then she would bring them in, along with enough little frosting filled decorating bags (I got to help make them out of parchment triangles) and she would help my entire class decorate cookies.
Summer was my mom’s favorite time of year. She loved that we were home from school. She loved being in the pool. And she loved the warm feeling of a mild sunburn.
My mom taught swim lessons for years (long before I came along), but she would never get her hair wet. And when summer was approaching, she would buy one bathing suit in five different colors (yep, that’s where I get it from) and she would make sure that she had watches and flip-flops (although, we called them “thongs” then) to match.
My mom taught me about faith and kindness. Her two favorite sayings were, “It always works out.” and “You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.” She also taught me about the value of a good man, “It’s just as easy to fall in love with someone rich as it is to fall in love with someone poor.” Of course, she was kidding about the last one (kind of).
Okay…there are about 500 other things I could share, but for today, the last thing I want to share is that my mom taught me, by example, the most important part of being a mom…to make sure that your children always know how important you are and how much you love them.
Happy Father’s Day!
This is a picture of my dad having his hair done by my nieces yesterday. He really is such a good grandpa! It fun to see him enjoy his grandkids so much. Spending Father’s Day with him this year reminded me of a Father’s Day in 1999, when I wasn’t able to be with him…or talk to him.
I was on a mission for my church. I was living in France at the time and Father’s Day was fast approaching. As a missionary, you are on a relatively tight budget, so there wasn’t really money with which I could purchase a Father’s Day gift, and truth be told, my dad is just about the hardest person on the planet to shop for.
Although I did have a credit card with me for emergencies (it was my card, but my dad was paying the bill while I was gone), I didn’t feel right about buying something he didn’t really want, that he would eventually be paying for. So instead of buying something for him, my companion (as a missionary, you always have a companion with you) and I went to lunch and I treated and then I sent my dad a letter that went something like this:
“Dear Dad,
I thought long and hard about what to get you for Father’s Day. After several hours of contemplation, I realized that the best gift I could give you is a happy daughter. So, today, Sister Higginson and I went to lunch and I charged it to the credit card. It was a little expensive, but I figured you would be happy to spend the money, since the most important thing in the world to you is to have happy children and, since we all know that money (especially when purchasing a good meal) truly can buy happiness, I figured that you paying for a good meal for me at a nice restaurant in France was a gift that you would truly appreciate. It was a tough sacrifice to make, but I was happy to do it.
I hope you have a happy Father’s Day!
Love,
Chloe”
He loved it! Not necessarily the part involving him paying for the meal, but the letter itself. He actually took it to work and read it to some of his coworkers. I think it is the only Father’s Day “gift” I can remember giving him. Sad, but true. Not that I haven’t given him other gifts, I just don’t remember them.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad! Thanks for being such a good sport.
spt – the colors of your world

Well, my world right now consists of a very, very small space over the garage and under the roof. I live in this little 350 sq. ft. studio that is always cluttered (because, well, it’s 350 sq. ft.). And while I’d be happy to share pictures of the chaos, I don’t think they’d do a very good job at showing the “colors of my world”, since this isn’t really “my” world, but more my dad’s (I’m living under his roof).
Instead, I dug through old photos to find some that show my favorite color. Or colors, as it changed sometime before my senior year in high school. When I was little I loved purple. I wanted purple everything, or more specifically, lavendar.
And then, somewhere along the way, I decided green was my favorite color. Maybe it’s because my eyes are green. Maybe it’s because my mom’s eyes were green. Maybe it’s because green goes with anything. Maybe it’s because I grew up in the beautiful Bay Area, where the hills and trees are green through most of the year. Whatever it is, I love green. And, while there are some greens that I don’t like, there are many more that I do, although, if I had to narrow it down, my favorite green is probably celadon. Partly because the name of it comes from a French name (and I love all things French), partly because it’s fun to say, but mainly because I think it is a really pretty green.

