Numero Uno

     After reading that last blog I realize what a black mood I was in.  That is ok.  As long as I am that way in the privacy of my own dwelling and I don’t take it out on any innocent bystanders, it is acceptable every now and again.  Let’s talk about something fun(ny) now: men.  First of all, I had two scenarios in my head regarding the male species that inhabit this region of the states prior to moving to the South.  The first was that I would meet many, many well-mannered Southern gentleman.  Most would be good-looking, good-natured, and family-oriented.  One day I would meet one, maybe out with friends or at the grocery store, and we would hit it off.  He would probably own a plantation, have lots of class, and wear pastel-colored polo shirts and bow ties.  When this didn’t happen I looked to my second scenario…that I would meet a handsome, smart guy (not necessarily Southern), and we would ride to my favorite beach at sunset on his motorcycle (I would be wearing these fabulous Nine West Maeble boots, of course…)

and Berlin’s Take My Breath Away would be playing on the breeze.  
Strangely enough, niether of those occurred.  Hmmmmm.... The first man I went to dinner with down here was a nice 32-year old teacher.  After a short while it became apparent that this was the stereotypical “guy that everyone knows is gay but himself” guy.  I should have known, he was wearing a fedora the first time I met him.  After one awkward dinner, (during which I excused myself to the ladies’ room and called my sister to get a good excuse to leave early, “say you have diarrhea” was her suggestion), I stopped returning his phone calls and eventually lost touch with him.  Shortly after that was the stereotypical ladies man, who, even after a few months of hanging out, you were not sure if he thought it important enough to learn your last name.  He ended up moving away, which is probably good, or on our four-year anniversary I would have been irritated with him and myself due to the fact that he still didn’t know my full name and responded to my phone calls when he felt like it. Ridiculously enough, we psuedo-dated/hung out (when it was convenient for him) for nine months.     
     After those two, and a few somewhat horrifying incidents, including a marriage proposal in Wal-Mart by a complete stranger, a date set up by a friend where the entire night the guy did “awkward turtle” impressions, an evening with a guy who talked the whole time solely about his rottweiler and lifting weights and the offer of a date with a co-worker’s step-son in exchange for a gift basket, I am happily off the dating radar at the current time. Who knows though…every day is new and lightning could strike : )
    
     As of late I have been very content with my "singleness".  I have a crazy work and sleep schedule and happen to think a night in watching Because I Said So, Hope Floats or Sex and the City while baking cookies with a clarifying mud mask on is a good night.  Also, nobody cares if I sleep in six layers of clothing consisting of old high school and sorority tees and sweats tucked into fleece socks like I like to, and thoroughly enjoy repeatedly watching Michael Fassbender in Centurion.

There are many positives to being single and not having a family of my own…no one to buy birthday, Christmas, or Valentine’s gifts for, not feeling guilty when all you want for dinner is popcorn and a cappuccino, staying in bed all day if you feel like it, and spending money on really important things, like Cosmopolitan, and that ridiculously flattering acid-wash bustier bikini top from Victoria’s Secret, guilt-free.  None of this, ‘diapers for the baby or new makeup for me?’ dilemma.  There is a time and place for everything and right now I am enjoying the heck out of looking out for numero uno.

Just in time for the New Year

  I have no momentous feats to my name, no relations to any person famous, no mad "skillz", and am expert at nothing. I am just an everyday being getting by one day at a time. 

     GoogleNews is my homepage.  Every time I turn on my computer it pops up.  I like to read over the headlines to keep myself posted on important topics in the rare case of intelligent conversation. The headlines are so bad as of late that more and more I feel like to survive past my thirtieth birthday, and to be a  member of a society that I think is worthy of bringing children in to, I need to create of my own Utopia, or, in an even better scenario, stumble upon one in a plane wreck i.e. Dagny Taggart.  (If you know of the person that I am referring to, I like you).  In an effort to not get caught up in the exhausting amount of bad news, people, decisions, etc, that are affecting us ALL, I have recently been turned on to the idea of the pursuit of beauty, whether it be a divine meal, a baby sleeping, a work of art, a shared sense of humor, a dress that takes your breath away, unconditional love, or a hot bath after a long night's work.  I believe that it is through these unexpected gifts my sanity remains intact.  This idea will not be a new one to those of you that have read Muriel Burberry's The Elegance of the Hedgehog.  I am seeing if my outlook changes on life at all after 365 days of being thankful and appreciative for what I can find.  Thrown in there will be random thoughts, encounters and experiences of mine.

So, to leave you with, on the eve of the New Year, behold a few recent encounters with beauty I have experienced.

First, the dress worn by Lake Bell on the cover of the January 2011 issue of Town and Country...from Oscar de la Renta:

Ahhh, I want one in my size to wear whenever I have a ball to go to which is...well, never.

Finally, in my pursuit of beauty, the meal I had with a good friend on a chilly Charleston, night at High Cotton. To warm up I ordered an Old Fashioned; for my meal I began with a classic Caesar salad with sourdough croutons followed by the Wild American Shrimp and Grits. To quote from the menu this dish consists of "smoked chicken andouille sausage, charred tomatoes, fennel, leeks, sweet shrimp broth".  Both were divine.  I finished it all off with a Grand Marnier creme brulee.  I can only afford to eat like this once in a blue moon, but that just adds to its perfection, right?