This weekend I took off for Nashville to meet that Matt guy up for a concert in a cave.
Yep. A concert in a cave. (That’s me before the show started.)
Needless to say, it was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever experienced. I’m sure Matt will give the concert, the band, and the cave more justice with his words and photography – so stay tuned to his blog for a post about it.
After the concert we headed to downtown Nashville
where this single mama got to dance her heart out to bands like this one.
To everyone who lives in Nashville – cool city. I’m jealous.
Thanks to Drue, Benjamin’s first babysitter, I had a place to crash.
You haven’t heard about her here, but only because she left for Nashville just before I started writing this blog. Had I been writing during the first year you would have known that she got me through every day – just by being there, by being so positive – a steady light in a sea of shattered darkness.
Helping a 27-year-old single mom who had just left her husband with a four-month-old baby could not have been easy. But it was for Drue.
Here’s an old picture of them playing around in the bathroom with my camera.
We got to catch up on life and on Benjamin… the little boy who carries a mind she helped to form. And then I took off for the airport to catch my flight back home.
—-
Before I left for the trip Mia and I were having one of the many conversations we’ve had lately about dating, men and how we got here in the first place.
“We always pick the wrong men,” she said.
It’s a true statement. Since our teenage years Mia and I have consistently fallen for men who love us the hardest in the beginning only to hurt us the most in the end – the bad boys, or just the boys who are clearly bad for us. Regardless, both of our internal compasses on men have been way off for quite a while, thrown for a loop by a mix of bad luck, bad judgment and the desire to help these men, or – worse yet – fix them.
“So I’ve been thinking about it,” she told me, “And I think – from here on out – we should only date guys who aren’t messed up in any way.”
“You mean happy, employed, addiction free men?”
“Yeah. Men we don’t have to fix.”
Her face beamed at this revelation.
She’s right – our days of taking chances on wild card guys should be over. But it’s easier said than done. How do you realign that compass? My solution as of late – ever since Mr. Man – has been to not date at all. And it’s been nice. Safe. Kind of boring. But nice.
So when I turned around in the plane terminal today and saw one of the most beautiful men I’ve seen in months standing right behind me, I was surprised to find myself wishing he’d be seated next to me. [click to continue…]
I’ve finally found some words, between the haze of my viral infection – here you go… the start to the story of how I met Mr. Man. The story, as you know, is still unfolding.
We met at the bar my mother and I used to frequent after my father died.
Mom and I were there this time, not to drown our sorrows, but to celebrate her birthday. As soon as we stepped inside she took off for the patio and I took the only empty seat at the bar – right next to Mr. Man.
His southern drawl told me immediately he was a townie, a working stiff, the real deal. Incompatible, I thought. I’m a city girl, constantly attached to some kind of electronic device. Or maybe we could work, this thought didn’t come until later after I’d left him at the bar and returned nearly an hour later to find him discreetly holding my seat, waiting for me to come back.
Only then did I really look into his eyes and realize that this man wasn’t kidding around or playing me, he was serious. Beneath his rough exterior I saw a soft, strong heart and something very comforting, familiar almost. We talked for hours there at the bar. What shocked me the most, after years now of dating so many of those fish in that big bad sea, was his genuine interest in listening to what I had to say.
And he responded to my thoughts, not with fantastical stories but with stories that related to mine, stories he told because he wanted to share them with me not because he wanted to prove something or get me into bed.
Three hours later, near closing time, Mom started gesturing behind his head, pointing to him with her thumb high in the air and mouthing, “I like him.” A few moments later she invited him back to her house. I, completely intoxicated at this point, threw out all logic and went along with the plan. We’d go home and wake up my uncle and Mom’s man, Larry and have a little party. It would be great!
Yeah, sure, keep talking drunk Alaina.
Had we not taken him home that night I’m not quite sure if I ever would have seen him again. In fact, I’m almost certain I would have just brushed him off… disregarding him as just another guy at another bar. [click to continue…]
Sparking all over the place, in the flesh or online – in your head, in your heart or in your throat. They’re palpable and you feel as if you could reach down into your soul and touch them. But what happens when those sparks are one sided? Or when someone feels sparks for two people at the same time?
Lately I can’t seem to get this idea of sparks out of my head. What are they? And how can you tell if you’re both feeling them?
My case in point.
Last weekend Benjamin and I found a Brio train table, complete with the tracks and the trains at a garage sale. The price? $75.00. I had to buy it. But how would I move it? I looked at my tiny Ford Focus, my tiny and grumpy little man and then at the two nice guys at the sale. Bingo.
“I’ll take it if you can deliver it. I just live right around the corner.”
They were more than happy to help and during the moving process one of them was being particularly attentive. He had blond hair, big blue eyes, a fantastic smile and a bare left finger. Before they left he invited Benjamin and I to stop by anytime, “You know where I live!” He seemed interested… but I wasn’t. [click to continue…]
It’s Spring. I’m feeling frisky … and I know you are too!
So… I dare you to ask a guy out.
If you’re like me and the idea of going out on a date makes your stomach squirm, then you get a reprieve. It’s only been one week since my break up, so I get to take a time out. As for the rest of you – how long has it been since your last date? If it’s been a while – then why aren’t you out there?
I know it’s a huge pain in the ass to date … but don’t you miss it? Are there any guys you have little crushes on? Could the feeling be mutual? Find out. Ask him. Put yourself out of your misery and just do it.
If you read my blog regularly you know I’m a huge advocate of women taking the plunge and asking men out, flat out
Here are a few little tid bits on asking men out.
1. Men love being asked out, it’s flattering.
2. (If they’re actually single) they rarely say “No.”
3. You seem confident and sexy.
4. You have nothing to lose. At the end of the day you know one way or another whether or not he likes you. Peace of mind is priceless.
5. Your gut is rarely wrong. If he’s been flirting with you or just smiling at you in the coffee shop, he’s probably into you. He’s giving you the green light.
6. Men are lazy when it comes to romance. They prefer it if we do the work – and that includes asking them out.
So I’m daring you all to ask someone out, a stranger, a friend or a crush…here’s how:
Find a common interest through conversation and then ask him if he’d like to join you the next time you go (insert activity here). Offer him your number (don’t get his). Then the ball is back in his court.
