Small Miracles in the Hardware Store

Did I ever tell you how I met my plunger?

I know, right?  Not many people have memorable stories about how they "met" their plunger.  And yes, I am talking about the one that fixes uh...jams...in the toilet.  I think I told y'all what I did with that plunger here, but I never told you how we met.

So, one of the characteristics of a woman who lives on her own is that she has to fix/do things that men typically do.  Oh I know, all the women's lib groups say that women can do everything a man can do and I agree with that totally.  I just believe there are things that women shouldn't have to do.  Taking out the garbage and changing the oil in the car are two such things.  I think that women are beautiful, delicate flowers and shouldn't have to smell nor touch such nastiness.

Unfortunately these thing still have to get done and so I have to do them (although since Q has become of  chore age, taking out the garbage is so his.)  I put together an elliptical machine and then took it apart after a year and a half when I gave it away - near new condition too.  I fixed the vacuum cleaner when it stopped sucking.  I try to remember to get my oil changed on time, but don't actually do it myself.  

Experience has taught me that when your toilet is jammed up, wait a while and it'll sort itself out.  But this one was snug.  It was not going anywhere any time soon.  

After work, I stop off at the closest hardware store.  And this place is huge.  Huge.  And it smells like plastic, like I just walked into a Payless Shoes.  I start to feel dizzy and disoriented.  I'm almost starting to sweat, but like a true lady, I don't sweat, so...

I take a deep breath.

"God," I say. "I'm going to need your help.  How on earth am I going to find a plunger??"

Well, listen to this.  

First aisle I stroll down is a father with his young son.  The father is distracted, talking on his cell phone.  His son has made a mess...

...of plungers.

Probably about 10 plungers, strewn all down the aisle.  Different types, sizes, even colours, all lined up just for me.  

Who says that God doesn't have a sense of humor?  That he doesn't answer prayers?

Thank God for small miracles!

Um...So...I'm Still Single......Still...

I can talk myself out of a relationship in less than 30 seconds.  Ergo I can talk myself out of dating in less than 20.  What can I say?  It's a gift.  I can look at a man and in less than a minute I know it won't work out and why.  We start out being all happy and in love and then something happens.  He's emotionally unattainable, he hasn't grown up, he's a player, a womanizer.  Oh, he has too much money, I would feel inferior.  Or not enough, and I am not gonna be any one's sugar momma.  He's got no work ethic, or he's a workaholic.  He's too *into* himself or he just doesn't care enough.  I create for myself a whole elaborate story about why it won't work, and then here's the problem...I believe it.  I can dissect a man's character, beliefs, morals and values in less time than it takes to pee based on an impression that I make up in my head.

Do you think this is a problem?

More importantly, do you think I have a problem?

Because we all know it's not these men.  Logically, I get that.  It's not their problem.  It's my problem.  I mean, I'm sure they have problems...I just don't think that I can determine what they are in such a short period of time.  There is no possible way that I can know the deep intricacies of a man by taking one look at them.  There is no possible way that so many men can be as horrible as I think they all are.  

Can they?

They're either too needy, or don't (uh, won't) need me enough.  They're either too religious or not spiritual enough.  They're too short, too tall, too skinny, too something.  They're too serious or not serious enough.  They're too aloof.  They're too young, they're too old.  They won't love Quinn, or maybe they won't be a good role model for him.  I bet their toes are ugly and their feet smell.  And is that a hangnail?  Don't they know men can get manicures now too?  What about that eyebrow?  It needs to become two.  

In reality, we all know that just because he hasn't had a pedicure in 35 years does not mean he's a horrible person. In reality, I cannot be making rash decisions about any one person's character based on absolutely nothing.  

I need to shut my brain down for a while.  Stop over analyzing the shit out of things and just put myself out there.  Give people a chance and hope they can do the same for me.  My stomach has been in knots all week, dating crappy men in my head that don't even exist.  Talking myself out of something that might be really, really wonderful.

I don't want to be the crazy cat lady 10 years down the line.  I mean, I would be now if it weren't for the fact that I have a child and should probably keep it all together until he becomes old enough to take care of himself.  Well, that and I live with my mom.  And she's allergic to cats.  

It would be really, really nice to be in a relationship.  It would be really nice to even just date someone.  It would be super cool to feel attractive again and have a reason to get out of my sweat pants.  It would be nice to get out of my head and into the real world. 

The real issue here is probably my ridiculous fear of failure.  Everything in my life is going so well.  I'm happy.  Why push the envelope?  Why risk failure when everything in my life is so great right now?

Because something is missing.  

Someone is missing.  

I don't want a fairy tale.  A prince would be nice.  But really, I just want want to find my other half.  

Oh No You Did NOT

Oh yes I did.

In my defense, it's been a while. A long while. And I was lonely. And let's be honest here, when it's been a long time, you begin to forget how bad it is. You forget about the one liners and the losers and the ugly couch pictures. Yes, I 'unhid' my profile on Plenty of Fish. (Don't get any crazy ideas - you won't be able to find me...)

I don't know what I expect to find this time around. I really don't. Probably nothing. In fact, I bet that in a week or two I'll be so fed up, I'll yank it yet again. But on Sunday morning, as I sat in church, looking around me (while obviously listening very intently to the Good Word...) and I noticed that I was surrounded, surrounded by married men. That's really all I have to say. Married men with wives and children. Living the life I thought was to be mine. Meeting a single man in church is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Not impossible, but nearly so...

I keep saying I think that my Mr. Right is just around the corner, when the truth is I'm slowly beginning to think I don't have a Mr. Right at all. Not everyone gets a Mr. Right. And so, instead of expecting to see him at every turn - or around every corner - I should begin settling into my life as me. Just me. Not in a bad way, not in a scary way, not in a depressing way. The lingering thought is that maybe I'm missing out by waiting for something that I have no control over and might never happen.

The last few nights I've been visited by the ghost of boyfriends past. One in particular who, if I had married, would have moulded me into the perfect little farmer's wife. We were so young, and he didn't so much love me as the idea of me and who he wanted me to be. I believe he's moved on and found his Mrs. G...complete and content to share his dream. I just think of how much I have grown in the years since him. I've learned who I really am, and that is such a fabulous gift. Maybe being single isn't a life sentence, maybe it's a gift. I think if more of us viewed it as such there would be some really content, complete women in the world.