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Tuesday, October 21, 2014

The 8 and the 4

This isn't math, it's science. Okay, maybe it's not science, but a more of an imaginary system of measure. Most people have heard of the beauty scale. Where you land on said scale is more or less a matter of opinion, but none-the-less, it exists.

I'd never had a need to set myself on this scale before. I'd never dated anybody that had grossly outmatched me. And I'm not just judging pure looks, here. I'm talking about life in general.

Maybe I'm underestimating myself. Maybe my self esteem is in the toilet. Maybe I'm not a 4. I could be a 5; perhaps even a 6 if I lost more weight. But regardless, I am not on the same level as the man I'm dating, and I'm bewildered.

I rated myself before I saw this scale, but I'm probably not too far off still.

His sordid stories of girls he's dated is as varied, unique, and downright creepy as any I've ever heard. We're talking people who message him on the dating websites asking to make them pregnant with his babies. As their first message. He's apparently dealt with stalkers. He's always got a story to tell about some chick who wants to date him despite factors such as them being married, or living in another state. He's got the looks and the personality to get dates, in which he's had many. I feel as though I'm dating a Captain Kirk. For hot women, this may not even phase them. After all, hot women get dates, and they've probably been on many themselves. But I can't even relate to this. I feel as though I'm just one in a line of many.

He can obviously get whomever he wants. So why is he with a 4?

And like I mentioned before, it's not all about looks. I'm not even on the same level as this guy. I'm barely on the same planet. At 27, he's already been to college and has a job as a manager at some large company that has the whole "be ruthless to get ahead" mentality when it comes to promotions (which I could never do.) He makes bookoo bucks. Has like, a million friends. And part of what bugs me is exactly that. Because of his occupation, he finds himself with doctor and lawyer friends.

The only doctor I know is the one I work for. As his receptionist.

I guess I find myself intimidated by his success. And in a way that's kind of weird, because I'm not somebody who is striving to be "at the top". I didn't go to college because I didn't want to. I'm not ruthlessly trying to get ahead at my job. I'm not attempting to attain a high position of status. I'm just not not that kind of person. I am satisfied. So really, I have nothing to be jealous about. But maybe it's not about jealously, maybe it's about feeling inadequate and wondering why I'm even on his radar.

He's told me none of this bothers him, which is kind of obvious (as he's dating me) but still confuses the hell out of me. I need to be able to see myself in a better light and to give myself some credit. Obviously, he sees something in me that he likes, and I need to inflate my self-esteem a bit. We'll see how it goes.

Have you ever dated anybody completely out of your league? How did it feel? Tell me about it in the comments!

Sunday, October 19, 2014

The Old I-90

I told Derek* this would happen. Totally warned him. I could see the future. Plans to take a road trip on the "old" I-90 route across the Cascade mountains, and I had to park in a garage in Seattle and meet him so that he could drive.

Me on Facebook chat:

Amy Gurley
I'll try not to be late but ill guarantee you I will get lost and or turned around

And me on trip day:

Amy Gurley
I don't even know if I'm in the right damn garage 

Sigh.  I think I'm in the Hilton garage

It was almost funny because he had manged to call me, find me on the streets of Seattle, and while on the phone, essentially chaperon me into the correct garage. This was not my finest moment.

After all that drama was over however, we had a great time. Derek had the whole thing mapped out. Literally. Old school print out of Mapquest with odd stops to make along the way.

[It's sad that "old school" is now considered Mapquest as opposed to physical maps.]

It was raining on the west side of the mountains, but once we got over the top of the 
threshold, it was gorgeous out and the perfect temperature. Our first stop was a 
small "ghost town" called Roslyn. Neither one of us could figure out why it was called a ghost town as it had 900 people living in it.

It had a very "old western" vibe. And our first stop was a curiosity gift shop that had a bunch of stuff from a show called Northern Exposure. Apparently it was filmed in Roslyn, WA and the town was taking full advantage of this.

I guess the show took place in Cicely, Alaska, which doesn't actually exist, so this is probably the coolest shot glass in my collection.

[If I can find one of Eureka, Oregon that would make me so happy.]

We took a short hike to find some coal mines but never encountered any. It was disappointing.

After Roslyn, we stopped in Cle Elum. He told me of this bakery that got good yelp reviews, so we stopped to eat lunch there. I mean, it was a bakery, so my lunch consisted of a cherry turnover and some kind of flat cinnamon roll-thing with walnuts on it. Well, they were good at least. He also had a telephone museum on his list of stops.

Really? A telephone museum? I think I'm okay with never visiting one in my lifetime.

Unfortunately, (or maybe fortunately in my case), they only have it open between May and September. Okay, next!

After Cle Elum was a stop at the old Thorp Mill. 

[Side note: Derek got turned around a lot. He doesn't use Google navigation and was apparently showing me how much worse his Nokia phone does at directions.]

I pretended to read all the interesting tidbits that the self-guided tour provided and spent time taking pictures. We were swarmed by gnats or some kind of tiny flies the whole time. It was disturbing.

Next on the list was Ellensburg. We were surprised to find out that it was a University town. I guess this is why most people skip it on road trips. But, I had a one track mind of finding a shot glass here.

We parked and decided to walk the streets. It was a cute town with some interesting architecture. 

I showed him how bad my memory was by asking a bookstore owner about perhaps finding a place that sold shot glasses and she proceeded to give me the name and walking directions to a place and then I promptly forgot them. Well, I hadn't really. But we did walk around a while before a resident of the town told us we should stop arguing about it and asked us where we were trying to get to. Both Derek and I agreed that we surely hadn't been arguing.

It's good when we can both agree that we both hadn't been arguing. This is the sign of a healthy relationship.

We finally found the shop but it being a college town they only had college shot glasses. This was sad. I don't think the town likes itself very much.

[Also, the lady was totally following us. Even when we got back to the car and proceeded to leave the town, we saw her crossing the street in the opposite direction she'd been walking before. I think she was the ghost of Ellensburg.]

Beyond Ellensburg was a pit stop at the Fruit and Antique Store in George, WA. (Yes, Washington has a town called George. Were you not expecting this?) Nothing much to say here except we both picked up something called Vine Smoothie to try. He grabbed the Strawberry and I took Peach. The cashier gave us some decent tips about drinking it in shots if we didn't like it. Derek was convinced I would have been best friends with this girl because we both like fruity wines.

Our final destination was the town of Moses Lake. It was getting late at this point; the sun was beginning to set and we were both hungry, but I insisted we make one more stop along the way. The Iron Horses.

We decided to climb the small mountain. The rocks were loose and it wasn't easy nor incredibly safe. But despite the promise of danger, we climbed it while the sun was setting, and I got some awesome shots. 

I slipped on the way back down, but it was all in the name of a good photograph so it was totally worth it.

The last stop of the drive was a simple diner called Bob's. Apparently, Derek had eaten there in the past and liked it. We had a bet on how old the waitress was. No wager but pride. We both gave our guesses at the same time. I said 22, he said 23. One of her co-workers answered that she wasn't even 21, so I won :D

The drive back was uneventful. It was a long day for me for sure; I didn't get back to the parking garage until 11pm and still had a 1 hour drive home from there. Thankfully, I had better luck leaving Seattle than I did at arriving. It just goes to show you, attitude can make all the difference!

*Name changed to protect the strange

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Do I have GAD?

For the uninitiated, GAD is "Generalized Anxiety Disorder". Sounds pretty epic, right? I mean, it's so idiopathic that I don't even freak out over specific things, just everything!

Well, this may not be true. Most of the time my life is pretty plain-jane. I know, or am aware at the very least, of a couple of people with GAD, and I know I'm not as bad as them. I think what it comes down to is that I have a routine in life, and when it gets thrown for a loop I kind of freak out. 

There are certain things in life where logic takes control and I can handle it just fine. For example, when our cat Sammy ran out the front door one day and no one noticed for at least 5 hours. We lived in an apartment complex with a greenbelt behind it, I knew logically that's where Sammy would hide. It was Justin that was freaking out, wanting to bang on neighbors doors at 10pm, while I was just calmly trying to make a lost poster. Knowing Sammy because I was the one that found him initially, he scares easy but once he gets hungry enough, he ventures out in search of food. I knew he would do that again, and I was right. Justin had called me cold-hearted because I wasn't freaking out and crying like he was.

I knew that beginning the step of dating again after my divorce would put a kink in my normal, everyday life. What I didn't realize was how much it would affect me.

I've never really dated. My history is pretty pathetic for a 30 year old woman. And "casual dating"? Whoa, hold your horses. I've never done that. What do I do? How do I act? How far can I go?

I'm constantly guessing and second guessing almost everything I do and say. I've already been (chastised probably isn't the right word but I don't know what else to call it) when I share too much. The guy I'm currently seeing knows what the hell he's doing, and I'm not sure if that makes things better or worse for me.

I'm also guessing and second guessing everything he says. Not because I think he's lying, but because woman vs. man. I keep trying to tell myself that what he says is what he means, and what he means is what he says. That hasn't lessened my anxiety about everything. I am so out of my element here that I don't know how to cope.

My workmates can feel the anxiety wafting off of me like so much bad cheese. I told them that I would stop asking for their advice, but it didn't seem to matter because my anxiety is pretty much palpable. I will stop asking anyways; it seems to have gotten me "in trouble" because I took two people's advice and received conflicting information. I have to be able to handle this myself, even if I feel incapable of doing so. It is the only way I will learn. I just hope the guy I'm dating understands.

Friday, October 3, 2014


I can't type like normal people. It's ok that I'm not normal, I don't mind, but sometimes it causes issues, like when it gets dark. I have a basic Logitech keyboard set that I've been using for years. I love it, and it runs like a dream, but I've also always had overhead lighting to help me type because I never properly learned how. Let me give you a little background.

First, dad tried to force me to learn how to type like a normal human being when I was but a young teenager. Any person that has known me a decent amount of years knows that I am not a normal human being! He'd purchased a program on CD and expected me to learn it. Yeah well, like my times tables and the metric system I gave it half a shot and quit. I could type just fine being ambidextrous with my left hand hunt & peck and my right hand on the mouse. In fact, I was so efficient at that method that every time I was tested I got at least 40 wpm.

In junior high I was forced to take a typing class. To show you my age (and the relative lack of funding at our school) we were on old Mac computers that I called "green screens" or "amber screens" because they were nothing but a cursor and a floppy drive. We were given "assignments" to type out which I am at my slowest when trying to copy something off a sheet of paper. I got so frustrated. The teacher did nothing but randomly walk around to make sure we were typing. In fact, when he told us to cover our keyboards with a wood board and type, I pretended to type (it was compete gibberish) and he never cared or noticed. I think I got a C, which was a passing grade so I didn't care lol.

I continued to type my way until about 2008 when I was about 24 years old and got a job as a data entry person at a place called IBS (no relation to the syndrome). With my phone in my right ear I would type using my left hand but it didn't feel right. It was hard to correct mistakes without the use of my right hand. So, I began to cradle the phone on my shoulder and type with both hands. It came on completely naturally.

[I'm always reminded of The Simpsons episode "The Crepes of Wrath" where Bart goes to France and learns French out of necessity.]

Suddenly, I could type with two hands. It was a miracle. What I have yet to learn, however, is typing without looking down. I've mastered it somewhat. I can do it sometimes, but I move my hands around a lot; I don't keep them stationary like most other people. So, when the sun sets, I have no light in the living room and I had to buy a special lamp just so I could point it at the keyboard. And now I'm looking at buying a backlit keyboard thanks to my "handicap".

It's so pretty.

I guess that's the price I pay for being unique!