Life Lessons:Be Careful When Trolling Craig’s List

f you’re going to spam me, at least spam me with something funny. I don’t know how Johanna found this and I’m a tad bit afraid to ask, but I was kinda tickled.

Mom, I know you’re out there, reading this.

How do I know you’re out there?

Let’s begin with that ad of mine that you recently responded to, shall we? You know the one I’m talking about. It was entitled, “Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?—m4w–22” That ad ran for three days before I got a response, and I can’t tell you, Mom, how my heart fell when I saw the photo that accompanied the response. It was your Realtor’s headshot, the one on your business card. Even worse was the text of your response. I’m so, so sorry I know now what you’d do to me if we ever “hooked up.” On the other hand, Dad must’ve been a very, very lucky guy back in the day. I dunno, maybe he still is.

I guess, Mom, when I think a bit about it, that I should resign myself to whatever it is that you are doing. After all, you’re an adult and I’m an adult. I can’t tell you what you should do with your life.

But Mom, I’d like to raise a few points.

The first point I’d like to raise is that you’re still married to Dad. Please, please PLEASE tell me that you have his blessing. My mind is reeling now, hoping that you’re not the people who posted “Fun Couple Looking For Others—MW4MW—57” I have a sneaking suspicion, though, that it is you. Now that I know you’re cruising CL, I suspect that there aren’t too many other 57 year old swingers from the Westlake area posting on Craigslist.

The second point I’d like to raise is that you owe it to whoever you’re trying to hook up with to be honest. I mean, I lived with you and Dad for 18 years. You’re not that fun.

Finally, I’d like you to stop responding to my “College Stud Needs a MILF—m4w—22” ads. The only one who should find you to be MILF-y at all is Dad. For me, you are just an “M”. Got it?

Your son.

PS. I’m going to swing by at around 7-7:30-ish to do a load of wash, is that okay? I tried to call you at the office, but they kept telling me that you’re busy.

See? Craig’s List is the Devil……..

Edited: August 23rd, 2008

Life Lessons: Oracle

Gabrielle and I were best friends for twelve years. We knew every story, every scar, every song. It’s true. I made her an anthology of us, the soundtrack of our lives. Every song had a story behind it, a meaning, a hidden truth that only we knew and understood. Even though she lived in Las Cruces and I lived in Austin, we had a bond. A week, six months, a year could go by and we would call each other or see each other and we’d fall back into our pattern, a conversation that would pick up right where it left off.

She and I fell out because of one of her friends. It’s so cliché, so typical of females, that I don’t even want to go into it. Lies were told, truths were twisted, and a friendship was fractured. Reparations have been slow. Two years and counting. Our truce is so tentative that we don’t even trust ourselves to speak on the phone. Our communication is strictly done through texts. Neither of us is willing to risk it and say something that can’t be taken back. Neither of us is willing to admit that we let go when we promised that we never would.

She’s married now, to a man with children. I’m single with no commitments. Never, never did she want to get married. Never, never did I want to be alone. It’s like we’ve switched paths, taken the course that the other seemed destined to follow. I don’t begrudge her her happy ending. It’s been a long, winding path to get there for her.

So, I will be generous. I will be the friend she turns to when she can’t cope. I’ll be her sounding board. I will be the person to shore her up. And I will try not to see the senselessness of our rupture. I will try not to wonder how different our lives would have been if we had remained true-blue friends instead of drifting apart. And I will try not to gloat that she’s not even friends with the other anymore and that everything that I said would happen between them has come to pass.

Good friends don’t wallow in righteous indignation; they rise above it.

State of the Union: Vindicated
Listening to: Dear Mama by Tupac Shakur

Edited: July 25th, 2008

Life Lessons: Past Loves and Fitness Don’t Mix

I am a fool for love. I know it. Everyone knows it. I accept it about myself. In fact, I think I may start a series of blogs to tell the world exactly how I earned this title, but I digress.

I was in the gym last night on my quest for the perfect body and I went later than usual. I made a commitment and, unlike all the other times I’ve started a regiment in the past, I am actually sticking to it. While on the elliptical, I saw my very first boyfriend, Phillip. He taught me that boys love girls that like sports and that men will bounce from one girl to the next. I was six years old.

When I moved over to the exercise bikes, I saw David. He taught me that boys will speak sweet nothings in your ear and then cut you down in front of their friends to avoid being ridiculed. I was in the seventh grade.

I decided to try my luck on the treadmill and, after 30 minutes, I see a familiar shape out of the corner of my eye. I see Jesse and his brother walking past. Jesse was my random, “completely-lost-my-last-damned-mind hook-up” when I was under the influence of an illegal substance (without my knowledge, but that’s a tale for another day). He taught me that men will make up lies about you to make themselves look better. I was twenty four.

I gave up at that point and just went home. Then, when I logged onto my computer and saw an IM from the guy that I thought was absolutely perfect at this time last year. He taught me that, when you give someone your heart, you’re basically giving them permission to stomp over it at any given time.

I think I’ll put my aspirations of thinness aside for a few days and curl up on my couch and watch SoapNet. It’s always nicer to get caught up in someone else’s drama and, besides, I think I’ve had enough life lessons for today…………..

Edited: July 19th, 2008