FAIL

Dear God, it's me, Shannon...

First, let me thank you for my life, my beautiful children, and all that I have...even this unbelievably sucky day week month past two years, which I'm sure is meant to teach me something, but I haven't exactly figured out what it is yet. (While we're on the subject...any idea when you'll be making your point? I know you're only supposed to be giving me as much as I can handle, but are you SURE you're not overestimating my ability to bounce?)

But seriously, I'm going to have to throw in the towel...I had nothing but the best intentions. I really did. But Easter is a long, long, loooooooong way off...and things sort of suck right now, pretty much in the general sense...and I really have no one to talk to the past couple of months--well, except for you and my journal...everyone is so busy and they have their own lives. A girl can only handle so much...but enough excuses. Let's not mince words. We're just going to call this what it is:

LENT FAIL.

I'm quitting, and I'm sorry. I rather hope, under the circumstances, that this will be overlooked...historically, my record is spotless. But I've given up enough this year...I'm learning to live without SO much already...and I'm certainly learning a lot about myself and my relationship with you in the process...and isn't that the point? I'm asking you to cut me some slack...I'd say "just this once," but come on, let's get real...you know me better than that...

Too Good to be True...

Last December, I met a guy…and he was easily the hottest guy who had ever asked for my number, so I gave it to him. After several giggly phone calls with this genuinely funny man, I agreed to meet him for dinner at a trendy little restaurant downtown that I suggested. When I got there, we ordered the same drink, and I smiled inwardly. Over the next hour and a half, we ate, talked, and watched snippets of the Thunder game on the TV near the bar. So far, so good...

We seemed to have a lot in common, although there were obvious differences, too…at first glance, and in many ways, I am very girl-next-door. Enough people have told me that I’m pretty that I’m starting to believe it, even if it took me a few decades. But I have a wild streak in me that not everyone gets to see…I have a few tattoos—I know, no big deal in today’s society—unless you don’t have any and the idea never even crossed your mind. The indie and alt-rock I listen to is not to everyone’s liking, I can drink most girls my size under a table, and I have been known to drop the f-bomb in casual conversation…okay, okay, I do that pretty much daily…but I’m still a Genuinely Nice Girl. I don’t hook up with random guys, I care about people’s feelings, and am one of the most loyal people you could ever meet, and I go to work, earn a paycheck, and support my kids.

S, on the other hand, was much more straight-laced than I am. First off, he’s ridiculously good-looking AND he’s a lawyer, so the fact that he was still single should’ve tipped me off that maybe something might be amiss. Although we were the same age, in the 90s, his feet were probably outfitted in Cole Haans while mine were in Doc Maartens. Some of his taste in music was good, but he was puzzled by some of the bands I loved…("I don’t know Incubus...funny name!") Hmmmm…okay…well, we were still having fun, and things were going well, so we moved on to a small bar a few blocks away. It was bowl season, and he was impressed that I actually understood football. That was the moment I knew I had him hooked, in spite of my “quirks.”

I don’t usually kiss guys on the first date…but after spending five and a half hours with my Hot Lawyer, when he leaned in, I didn’t protest.

I should have.

He instantly had his tongue so far down my throat that I had the immediate—and absurd—instinct to want to cry for help. His lips engulfed everything from the tip of my chin to the tip of my nose, and I feared drowning was inevitable if this went on much longer. I struggled in vain, and when he finally broke away, I literally GASPED for air.

I was crestfallen…the cutest guy I’d ever been out with was also the World’s Worst Kisser? What kind of cruel joke was this? In a daze, I climbed into my car, and consulted several girlfriends on the drive home. Is it possible to teach a 36-year-old man how to properly kiss a girl? The consensus? Not likely…but I was determined…so determined I dated him for another month and a half before I decided that they were indeed correct…which also gave me ample time to discover a few other less than desirable traits.

For example, he’s such a shitty tipper that I resorted to flagging our servers over when he was in the restroom and handing out extra cash. “He can’t help it!” I would whisper. “He’s never waited tables before!” A knowing smile would be exchanged, and I would get excellent service for the rest of the meal, while his glass remained largely neglected…once, when we were trying to decide where to eat, I told him I was in the mood for something different. “Oh, I know!” he exclaimed. “How about Ted’s?” It took everything I had not to get out of the car right then.

So what did I learn from S? Some things are, in fact, too good to be true…if your first kiss is bad, it may be a good idea to pack it in and wait for the next one.

Stars Align...

The other day, one of my best friends sent me a text. She was in the midst of  Sex and the City marathon on her day off, and it suddenly dawned on her that something "seemed very familiar." And then it hit her...Carrie was rather "Shannon-like...a loveable hot mess," which she quickly assured me she meant with great affection. "Her self narration is like a conversation with you!"

I don't earn Carrie's paycheck...I mean, let's face it, look where she lives...on a WEEKLY column for the New York Post? I don't think so...nor do I have her shoe collection...but I have her sass, a little style, and I'm gaining more and more insight into the intricacies of single life every day...but with an important twist. I have offspring to boot...

And then it dawned on me...where is the column representing ME? A busy, working, involved, loving, half-crazed single mom trying to relearn everything she thought she already knew? Well, after a quick collaboration with my favorite editor, the answer was obvious. The writer is right here. And the story is coming soon, so stay tuned...and to my dear Lisa, thank you for the inspiration!

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Where the f*** is my funny bone, anyway?

Where did it go? So my life got turned upside down...the old me would have found more humor in it...I miss her. But just when I think the funny girl is gone for good, she pops up unexpectedly...

She doesn't always learn from her mistakes...as evidenced by the decision to date L not just once, but twice...I mean, come ON! Like it didn't end badly enough the first time? Did I think maybe if we tried hard, we could actually top it?! Oh, and did we ever...what a f***ing mess...

The current boy is also a bit of a mess...as am I, of course. So who knows? At least we seem to be the same kind of mess, while L was a totally different type of screwed up. I am also dating more than one person, so that makes things extra interesting. But I also knew I liked this one the minute I met him...we just clicked in pretty much every way...mess and all.

Speaking of mess...I wish he would actually hit the toilet and stop peeing on the floor in front of it. Doesn't he realize only girls live here?!

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Lessons I'm Learning and Other Random Musings...

I can be free-spirited and adventurous...sometimes even a daredevil...but I didn't ask for THIS adventure, and it isn't nearly as much fun when someone else makes the decision for you.

I know myself well...I know what I like, and whom...if I tell you that it's YOU, how about you do us both a favor and just give me the benefit of the doubt?

I am not a coward...I don't run from the things that scare me...but that doesn't mean I don't want to. I'll tell you I'm not scared, but I'm probably lying...and if I start making smartass comments, you may as well consider me terrified.

I may be cautious by nature, but I've learned to roll with the punches...some punches are just more surprising than others. Just give me a chance to recover, and I'll be okay.

I follow directions well...it's why I can cook...but there is no instruction manual for this. I'm making it up as I go along, so please be patient and don't judge me.

I'm smarter than you might think. Don't underestimate me.

I'm loyal to a fault...I know because it's bitten me in the ass more than once. There are some people that you simply don't need in your life...it's okay to love them, it's okay to care...but do it from a distance and save yourself some grief.

I'm stronger than I look. Yes, I HAVE lost weight...probably too much, but I know it, so please back off. I'm not going to blow away. Yes, I'm tired...yes, I get frustrated. Yes, I make the wrong decisions sometimes. Yes, I know you're worried...but I'm the only one who knows what this feels like, so let me handle it in my own way and just be there when I need you.

He probably doesn't deserve me, and I know that...but I'm going to let him have me for awhile anyway. Running away because the timing and the circumstances aren't completely right is a cop-out. Sometimes you have to wait and see what happens, because if you don't, you'll always wonder.

I will give everyone I care about a second chance...but I almost never give a third.