Happy New Year!01/05/2013
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Where have we been?!? Like everyone else, eating enough calories for a family of four and sitting by a fire to stay warm. We may be determined to find me a man but Sage and I happen to like our fingers and paws and would hate to lose them to frost bite (more like the desperate sting of single hood) .
Upon the constant nagging of my friends, however, I left my perfectly set 75 degree apartment to venture out into the cold, cold world of dating (literally, and after this walk, metaphorically). Dressing in something other than pajamas for the first time in weeks, I zipped up my black Northface jacket, swirled my scarf about my neck and perfectly placed my slouch hat on my head (nevermind it took 10 minutes to get the damn thing to look right). Once perfectly ‘hipster’ I was ready to brave the winter wind and the other people who were either stupid enough to venture out on their own, or influenced enough by their friends (like me) to ‘get out there’ during the winter. Sage put on his winter best, by way of a reflective jacket and booties. Although I didn’t admit it in front of his parents, I couldn’t help but think, how does a dog dress better than me?! I mean, he’s neutered, it’s not like he’s looking for a one-nighter. A needless worry as it turns out as a lot of elderly folk like the winter dating market #I saw Santa. Seriously, did they do away with Sadie Hawkins in the nursing homes or begin tagging people by STDs? How am I supposed to focus on the eligible men when all I see are short, stalky Santa’s walking by. Believe me: you don’t want to know how he is going to ‘fulfill’ your gift.
I can only wonder that while I was walking Sage, his parents and the rest of my taken friends were all secure within their warm houses, most likely drinking scotch, 8 yr old brandy or perhaps Charles Shaw merlot (let’s be real…we’re grad students after all), and dreaming of the single life. If only they knew the trouble of being single today. 21 and single was exciting. 23 was cute. 26? 26 is full of sorrowful looks, horrible match-ups and threatening questions from your 84 year old grandma. When are you officially labeled "old maid"? Therefore, while I would love to belly up to a bowl of scotch, I know that it will not get me a date for a friend’s wedding in February. Yes, that’s right, my friend is getting married on Valentine’s Day (pause for gagging sounds and throwing-up) and yes, I’m invited with a date….Home-girl needs a Mr. Drunk to match my ass at the open bar wedding.
So, Sage and I walked the West River Parkway path. Based on its Fall line of models…I mean runners…I was hopeful that their winter collection would be as cabana-boy-yummy as the previous season. If you have ever played the game "Loaded Questions" you know that every situation, or question, has two outcomes: dirty or G-rated. In this game, the sky is not only blue but the exact color of your boyfriend's balls. My walk began like this game...the sky had potential to be the color blue or of balls. It was up to the universe. Of course, the extra layers would add to the difficulty of detecting the desirable versus the drive-through attendant; however, with Sage’s sense of smell, and my judgmental eye, mama got this. Going to college in Fargo, North Dakota, I have mastered the skill of looking beyond the Eddie Bauer Goose Down, Under Armor Sweat Shirt, Buffalo Wild Wings Heat Champion T-Shirt, and a yellowed undershirt for the right man (and abs). Admittedly, perhaps my standards weren’t as high during my early twenties as they are now, but what does a few years change? The undershirts are most likely pit-stained, and the shirts were not bought, but won (or given away due to decomposition). Anyway, Sage and I headed toward Lake Street on West River Parkway, walking parallel to the Mississippi River. Half-way through our walk, Sage wanted to venture down to the river, however I didn’t feel like being raped or killed, so we stayed within the eyesight of the passers-by and on the straight and narrow….seriously narrow when bikers with their reflective clothing hogged the path. Yes, we see you, and yes, you are annoying!
Along our stroll back, Sage and I made friends with an elderly man…looking back at the situation I question if the man actually wanted to become friends or whether we were just walking at the same pace #slowandsteadywinstherace. Little did that man (or his heart medicine) know, he would have the excitement of his life, although I doubt he could be my Mr. Drunk for the wedding. Nevertheless, I think I just made nice with Santa's bother-in-law.
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Where have we been?!? Like everyone else, eating enough calories for a family of four and sitting by a fire to stay warm. We may be determined to find me a man but Sage and I happen to like our fingers and paws and would hate to lose them to frost bite (more like the desperate sting of single hood) .
Upon the constant nagging of my friends, however, I left my perfectly set 75 degree apartment to venture out into the cold, cold world of dating (literally, and after this walk, metaphorically). Dressing in something other than pajamas for the first time in weeks, I zipped up my black Northface jacket, swirled my scarf about my neck and perfectly placed my slouch hat on my head (nevermind it took 10 minutes to get the damn thing to look right). Once perfectly ‘hipster’ I was ready to brave the winter wind and the other people who were either stupid enough to venture out on their own, or influenced enough by their friends (like me) to ‘get out there’ during the winter. Sage put on his winter best, by way of a reflective jacket and booties. Although I didn’t admit it in front of his parents, I couldn’t help but think, how does a dog dress better than me?! I mean, he’s neutered, it’s not like he’s looking for a one-nighter. A needless worry as it turns out as a lot of elderly folk like the winter dating market #I saw Santa. Seriously, did they do away with Sadie Hawkins in the nursing homes or begin tagging people by STDs? How am I supposed to focus on the eligible men when all I see are short, stalky Santa’s walking by. Believe me: you don’t want to know how he is going to ‘fulfill’ your gift.
I can only wonder that while I was walking Sage, his parents and the rest of my taken friends were all secure within their warm houses, most likely drinking scotch, 8 yr old brandy or perhaps Charles Shaw merlot (let’s be real…we’re grad students after all), and dreaming of the single life. If only they knew the trouble of being single today. 21 and single was exciting. 23 was cute. 26? 26 is full of sorrowful looks, horrible match-ups and threatening questions from your 84 year old grandma. When are you officially labeled "old maid"? Therefore, while I would love to belly up to a bowl of scotch, I know that it will not get me a date for a friend’s wedding in February. Yes, that’s right, my friend is getting married on Valentine’s Day (pause for gagging sounds and throwing-up) and yes, I’m invited with a date….Home-girl needs a Mr. Drunk to match my ass at the open bar wedding.
So, Sage and I walked the West River Parkway path. Based on its Fall line of models…I mean runners…I was hopeful that their winter collection would be as cabana-boy-yummy as the previous season. If you have ever played the game "Loaded Questions" you know that every situation, or question, has two outcomes: dirty or G-rated. In this game, the sky is not only blue but the exact color of your boyfriend's balls. My walk began like this game...the sky had potential to be the color blue or of balls. It was up to the universe. Of course, the extra layers would add to the difficulty of detecting the desirable versus the drive-through attendant; however, with Sage’s sense of smell, and my judgmental eye, mama got this. Going to college in Fargo, North Dakota, I have mastered the skill of looking beyond the Eddie Bauer Goose Down, Under Armor Sweat Shirt, Buffalo Wild Wings Heat Champion T-Shirt, and a yellowed undershirt for the right man (and abs). Admittedly, perhaps my standards weren’t as high during my early twenties as they are now, but what does a few years change? The undershirts are most likely pit-stained, and the shirts were not bought, but won (or given away due to decomposition). Anyway, Sage and I headed toward Lake Street on West River Parkway, walking parallel to the Mississippi River. Half-way through our walk, Sage wanted to venture down to the river, however I didn’t feel like being raped or killed, so we stayed within the eyesight of the passers-by and on the straight and narrow….seriously narrow when bikers with their reflective clothing hogged the path. Yes, we see you, and yes, you are annoying!
Along our stroll back, Sage and I made friends with an elderly man…looking back at the situation I question if the man actually wanted to become friends or whether we were just walking at the same pace #slowandsteadywinstherace. Little did that man (or his heart medicine) know, he would have the excitement of his life, although I doubt he could be my Mr. Drunk for the wedding. Nevertheless, I think I just made nice with Santa's bother-in-law.
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