stages of woman

i have a very cool group of friends where i live: Erin, Sarah, and Sara...i have a lot of Sarah's in my life. anyway, i was thinking last night that we represent the three stages of woman.

Sara is married with two kids and is very "mom." home to cook her family dinner by 7 and in bed by 8 sort of thing.

Erin is married and pregnant...and still rocking heels. love that woman.

Sarah is married and is working out a baby plan for, maybe, next year.

I...well, i could sort of represent two stages. i could either be child-free and single or i could be the widow, either way. since it's been 7 years since Shawn died, i suppose i'm mostly just child-free and single.

it's cool because we all have very different lifestyles, but totally come together for food, drinks, and laughter. i love it. plus, for me, it's nice to have a few people guiding me through the unknown. when you have a few supportive friends married and/or with kid --not Cathy-- you know you have company any step you take.

they're sorta fabulous women.

snow

i promise i'm not as dorky as this is going to sound, but...

i love being out in the snow, especially when it's falling on my face. i'm like a child. i like to eat it out of the sky and like the way it feels on my eyelashes my favorite part is looking up at the night sky to the thousand of white flakes coming at me and imagining i'm flying at warp speed through space.

strangeness.

i have a lot of hair. it's long. it's thick. it's everywhere. i have naturally curly hair, so by day three of neglecting it it's become this poofy, awesomely wild mess. i love it! except for when it scares me. i once jumped because i thought someone was standing too close to me until i realized that it was just my own hair in my peripheral vision. the problem is that things tend to get lost in it...especially around day 4 of not combing it. the curls start to lock and accidentally turn into secure holding areas for writing utensils. the pens are so solidly nestled, that they don't fall out when i turn my head or anything. so, it's not uncommon for me to be in the shower, combing out my hair, and have pens or hair ties or something fall out. when you have that much hair, you can't feel anything. hell, even my fingers have to fight to actually touch scalp.

what happened tonight was embarrassing mostly because my hair is straight. i blew it dry the other day and have combed and cared for it since. so, there's really no way for things to get stuck and, if they do, for me not to feel it. anyway, i'm on the phone with my dad tonight and i'm playing with my hair as we talk. i'm stroking the top of my head and feel a lump. i immediately revisit the spot and locate the protruding object. i pull it out and couldn't help but laugh. i found a fucking earring in my hair. i don't know how it got there. it was this little jeweled cross stud that i was wearing earlier. the thing is that i took it out of my ear. i simply have no idea how it made it's way from my ear, to the table, to the top of my head.

it's a mystery.

i'm waiting for the day i find a golden ticket or a midget in there.

reasons

aside from him being the male doppleganger of my best friend, there are other reasons why we should be together.

the him-being-Andrea except a man is important because she's crazy. partially in the "zany" way, but mostly in the medicated way. so, he can rest assured that he can do his worst and i'm not going anywhere. there's little sarcasm, anger, pessimism, depression, silliness, or general strangeness he can bring that i haven't either been through alone or via Andrea. anytime i can tell whether or not you've taken your meds over the phone, it's safe to say that there's not a lot that scares me. i'm reasonably certain that there's no other woman in the world who could care for and love him better than i could.

while that's a rather sound argument, there's more. i realized tonight that i've only been keenly interested in him for about 4-5 months and, considering, i've made quite a bit of progress, i think. i know he hasn't had a girlfriend --and probably sex-- for a few years and i exude sexuality. i'm not bragging, it's just a fact. i'm a sexual creature and have a flirty way about me. i can see how, for a man who's been arms length from a woman for that long, that could be intimidating. not to mention the girls. they're ample and speak for themselves... in a very loud voice.

it's also clear that whatever happened with his last girlfriend did a number on him. it takes a particular kind of heartache to turn a man into a Wookie. he's sort of Spider Jerusalem without the mountain hut (see above picture); that kind of hurt that causes you to retreat into a curtain of hair and abandon almost all grooming techniques. now, he's not nasty or anything...actually, i think he's quite beautiful... but he has created an actual shell around himself-- a furry buffer zone between him and the world. i respect it.

i see it as a physical manifestation of heart wrench.

all of that being said, i can understand why this is slow going and i'm fine with that. i'm certain he's worth it in the end...provided, of course, i get him in the end. which brings me back to my original thought. aside from him being the male version of Andrea, we're destined to be together because the story of us so far is just far too interesting and bizarre to be left to the archives of our separate lives. without even a proper relationship, we've accumulated a staggering and hilarious compilation of grandchildren worthy stories. things just too weird to be an accident. between his inner black man, tripping over boxes, and bacon, how could i want anything other than that? whose story is that compelling? could you put down a book that began with those three things? i couldn't.

i doubt i'll ever meet anyone as wonderfully strange as him who can peak my interest without trying; relaying thoughts in a voice i could listen to forever. he fascinates me in a way that'll take the rest of my natural life to understand and i'm comfortable with that...as long as he's with me.