MY DATING LIFE is mainly for the entertainment of my friends. I suffer through bad dates, just to have stories to tell them. I haven't figured out if they are truly amused by said dates or if they are just really happy that it isn't happening to them.

I have been single for a very long time. I just ended a fairly long term relationship mainly because I started cringing every time the man walked into my breathing space. That's when you pretty much should call it quits. Actually, I called it quits 2 years ago in my mind, there was just the technicality of actually moving because I was so done in my head, it wasn't even funny.

I told a former friend of mine (he is a former friend because he hasn't spoken to me in about a month. He broke a huge promise to me and I am really pissed about it. There will be a lot of ass-kissing in his future in order to be reinstated to even acquaintance status)--that I wasn't the marrying kind. I figured I was pretty safe in saying that since I'd been divorced for 13 years. Then I found a guy I could actually see myself being married to. Forever. It doesn't look like it's gonna happen though, so I'm back to dating.

I may start drinking.

The worst date I ever had was a guy who really thought a lot about himself. And he was delusional. I am a tall girl--5'9" on a short day. With heels--over 6 foot. This guy told me he was almost 6 foot tall. I don't mind a shorter man. One of my favorite men is shorter than I am and I really like him a lot. HOWEVER, this dork was not even close to "almost 6 foot tall". I showed up for our date in a moderate heel. He had on cowboy boots (with lifts, I'm sure) that had a pretty substantial heel on them. I looked down at his balding head almost all night. It wasn't the balding head that bugged me--again--favorite man=bald--it was the fact that he actually thought he was ALMOST 6 foot tall. I may be bad at math, but I know 6 foot. The rest of the night he proceeded to tell me how he worked out almost every day for 2-3 hours/day. Dude--you better change your routine, because it isn't working. I could hardly wait until that date was over.

About 3 days after that, he called me. This was before I had caller id. I answered the phone and told him I was headed out for the evening. He said, "How are we ever going to move our relationship to the next level if you aren't available to me?"

Beats the hell out of me. I could barely get the phone hung up before I started laughing hysterically.

So my friends--get the lawn chairs out and the 'ritas and snacks. It may be a long ride.

MOUSE REPORT--DECEMBER 21

This is just an update--I haven't killed the little bastard yet. Yesterday morning when I went downstairs, there was a half-eaten Milky Way on the stove. I cussed then I picked it up with a paper towel and threw it away. When I got home last night, evidently my little mouse nemesis was a little pissed that I threw his Milky Way out and he had dragged a Snickers bar to the stove and actually shredded the crap out of the wrapper and started eating the Snicker bar.

Well, that only served to ignite me and I cleaned up the snicker bar mess and threw the rest of the candy away. Which I probably should have done in the first place. I hate this effin' mouse. He is so dead. I just wanted him to go away, but he won't.

One of my friends, who has no qualms about beating vermin to death, said that she has beaten them with golf clubs and even a bottle of Windex. Now, I've got to tell you--the vision of beating a mouse to death with a bottle of Windex was effin' funny to me. A little too close to the actual rodent, but funny nonetheless. I would rather have a 34" baseball bat between me and it. I'm just sayin.

I'M NOT CRAZY--JUST HARDY!

Yesterday I started the winter racewalking season with a race time temperature of 8 degrees. That's right, 8 effin' degrees. The race actually benefits a primary school in Africa, so the entry fee goes to a good cause. A couple other racewalking buddies showed up and one asked me, "Are we just crazy to do this?" I said, "I am not crazy--I'm just hardy." See, I was raised in the mountains of Colorado and I spent many a day on the ski slopes in sub-zero weather. This doesn't even count the sub, sub-zero wind chill temps that I have skiied in. The coldest day I remember was a -39 windchill temp. That, my friend, is COLD. And yes, I skiied a lot of the day, but believe me--no skin was showing.

Yesterday, the race course was like an ice skating rink and I spent a lot of time trying not to fall. Slowed me down substantially. People asked me why I was out there at all and my only reply is that I need to get off the couch in the winter in order to prepare for softball and the second reason is--I like to racewalk. I'm out in the fresh air (albeit COLD), I'm getting some exercise and I get to have a few words of prayer with God as I'm walking--mostly, please don't let me die until the finish line. You see--I have exercise induced asthma and the cold weather really exacerbates it.

Long story short--I took second in the women's racewalk division--should have had first, but the skating rink wreaked havoc with my time. Didn't notice the cold at all, until I finished and was standing there sweating and the sweat started freezing. Then I was cold. Next race--New Year's Day. Something I promised to do and really--is there a better way to start a New Year then to do something you love to do? There is one other way I would like to start the new year, but it looks like it may have to wait until 2007.

DEAR SANTA:

Well, it's that time of year again and I have some pretty important things to ask of you. First of all, I've behaved reasonably well this year. I did have those 2 major eff-ups, one of which wasn't so much an eff-up as it was an "it's about time". The other one was a doozy and I feel really still feel pretty bad about it. It didn't just affect me and that's the crappy thing about it. I'm not really asking you to overlook my behavior--just maybe understand why it happened.

I digress. Here's my list:

First of all, I'd like Ivan "Pudge" Rodriguez to have a really good year in 2006--kind of like the one he had in 2003. He had a rough year in 2005, what with his divorce and all. (I didn't have anything to do with this) I don't know that he'll ever make the World Series again, but he is still my favorite player and I'd like to see him finish out his career on top. I love him best of all you know.

Second, one of my favorite men has been activated and is headed for Iraq early next year. I'd like him to make it home safely and for the men and women that serve with him--for them to get home safely as well. I will miss said Marine immensely and can't wait to see him when he gets home. He holds a very important place in my heart.

Third, for the men and women already serving--that they are safe and know that we support them and love them. If there are any service people that are not getting letters or email from home, find a way to let us know so that we can take care of that. They deserve our respect and we want them home.

Fourth, for another Marine already serving--a wardrobe of anything but green stuff.

Fifth, for all my queenly friends--that they have sparkly things and love in their lives. For those that have problems that are seemingly too large to overcome, may they find peace and a solution for their situation.

Last of all--a very personal request. As you know, a very good friend of mine has self-imposed a gag order. I have tried to comply with this. I know the reason for it and I understand it. It doesn't make it any easier. I would like things to be better than they were before November 14. They were pretty great up until then and even the 14th and 15th were pretty great. But I need him to forgive me and to forgive himself and know that it is okay. Plus, he told me that if I ever had a mouse, he would kill it for me and guess what. That's right, I've got a mouse that needs killin'. But more important than that, I value our friendship and what we do for each other and I really need him back in my daily life. I promise I won't eff up again. He's my favorite and I like him best.

I'll try to do better in 2006.

Love,
Ballz

THAT SNICKER BAR THIEVIN, CARB LOADIN' SUMBITCH

Yes, I am still at war with the rodent. He likes bread and lots of it. So Saturday, I go to the Walmart and get the kind of traps that you don't have to touch the dead rodent carcass--you don't even have to look at it. They go in it, it snaps shut (and boy does it--I found out about 4 times trying to set it--scared the crap out of me every time it went off), mouse dies immediately (so the package says) and you throw the whole thing out.

I've hidden all the bread I have in the cabinet and set the traps. So I go downstairs Sunday morning hoping that the little germ infested creep is dead in a trap and I'll be done with it. BUT OH NO--there is a half eaten Snicker bar in the middle of my stove and I know it wasn't ME who left it there. I start cussing because not only was it a waste of a perfectly good Snicker bar, but the fact that the mouse was still alive and not dead, like he was supposed to be. I mumbled something about how I hoped he would die of chocolate consumption--you know--like dogs get really sick if they eat chocolate? Well, I hope the same thing happens to rodents--only worse. I am grossed out beyond belief and the mouse still lives. I told my work husband about this and his suggestion was to put out another Snicker bar and wait with a 30.06 shotgun. According to him, you can't be overgunned in a situation like this. I tend to agree.

This is probably not very Christian of me around the holidays, but honestly--I am terrified of mice. They are creepy and they are scary and the one person that I thought I could count on for mouse killing is avoiding me (long story--I hope it has a happy ending someday).

Today--Monday, I get up--no dead mouse in the traps, but nothing has been eaten. I hope the chocolate killed him. If it didn't--I will someday.

THIS IS WAR. But I think I'm gonna have to call in the Special Forces. I shall explain.

There is one thing in this world that I am terrified of. Mice. They scare the crap out of me with all that scurrying that they do. And obviously, my TERRIERS WHO WERE BRED TO GET RID OF VERMIN are of no help. That's right--I have a mouse and now I must kill it. I don't like the very idea of it.

I was making my lunch this morning, a sandwich and put the bread back on top of the fridge. That's when I notice a bigass hole in the bottom of the bread sack and 2 half eaten pieces of bread. For someone who is afraid of mice--this is akin to walking into the aftermath of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I had several choice words for this rodent, most of which started with Mother and ended with effer. Honest to God, I really do not want to deal with this. So now, I have to kill him. Just out of principle. I picked a hell of a time to be single.

EXCUSE ME WHILE I GOUGE MY EARS OUT WITH AN ICE PICK

I don't mind Christmas music, but I will make an exception for certain songs. I'm afraid today I heard something that sent me over the edge. The Cat Meowing Nutcracker Suite. Whoever came up with that needs his nuts cracked. Oh my God. I can tolerate the Dogs barking Jingle Bells--barely. But I don't like the Nutcracker anyway (It all stems back to Mr. Sensitive, who is an ex-boyfriend. The first year we dated, he told me that he saw the Nutcracker ever year--it was a TRADITION with him--so I got him tickets to the ballet (red flag anyone?) When we got there, he was acting like a 5 year old on crack--turns out he had never actually BEEN to the ballet--he had just always DREAMED about it. WTF?) I digress.

There are other holiday songs that make me want to yack as well--Christmas Shoes, Christmas Carol, Pretty Paper--see a theme here? But the one I heard today really gives me hives. Celine Dion singing Blue Christmas. I'm having a real issue with a skinny Canadian singing Elvis' song. Just doesn't do it for me. I don't care how good a singer she thinks she is--No one can sing Elvis like Elvis did.

Many other people feel the same way about Christmas music, but I think a lot of them hate it just because they started playing it 24-7 on one radio station about November 1. Don't even get me started on the Political Correctness of the holidays because the words that will come out of my mouth will make the infant deity cry (thanks to one of my friends for that gem).

DECK THE EFFIN' HALLS

Last year, my new year's resolution was to quit swearing. I'll wait until you pick yourselves up off the floor from laughing.

I did pretty well until November and suddenly everything was eff this, eff that and eff you too while I'm at it. Here--I usually say "eff" when I mean the "eff" word. In real life, people around me aren't that lucky. I'm trying again. I've done pretty well the last couple of days. However, the discussion of this post is as follows:

LAME ASS CHRISTMAS PRESENTS.

I myownself have been the victim of this. There was the year of the heating pad and answering machine from a boyfriend of 6 months. There was the year of the anorak leather coat. Sounds nice? The thing weighed about 50 pounds and looked HORRIBLE on me. I am a thin person and this thing literally swallowed me whole. Then there was the year of the robe. I don't wear them and I have one that hangs on the bathroom door gathering dust. The gift robe was brocade and very fancy and was the same effin' color as the one gathering dust. I got a blanket one year and a vacuum cleaner. I have a friend who got a decorated hammer. What in the hell are people actually thinking when they buy this crap?

However, the LAMEST ASS CHRISTMAS PRESENT for the year 2005 is (drum roll please)--THE SINGING DEER HEAD FROM WALMART.

I saw this in October and the only thing I could do is stare at it and wonder who the hell would buy that for someone else. It's eleventy jillion times worse than that g.d. singing fish. I have a friend who actually bought it for her son. He was going moose hunting and was convinced he was gonna have a trophy head to hang on the wall. To make a long story short, he came home empty handed and his mom, being a good mom and all, bought that deer head to go in the space that he had already cleared out. I almost fell out of my chair laughing. Now I know who would buy one of those things.

I was in Walmart on "black Friday", only because I had to be and as I was walking out of the store, I saw one of those things in someone else's cart. I can only hope they went moose hunting and came home empty handed and already had the space cleared out. Because that is the only acceptable reason for the singing deer head.

WHY I DO NOT SHARE MY FEELINGS, part 2.

I'm done. Seriously. Won't ever do it again. I'm at the lowest point I can ever remember for a long time. Someone I thought I could count on let me down. Probably not in the way that they think, but I'm seriously disappointed in them and I don't know that I will ever get over it. They're not the person I thought they were. Or maybe they are, and I just didn't see it.

But as of today, I'm done. And I'm really very sad about it. It's gonna take a lot to convince me otherwise and as of today, it's on them. I swore that the last time I felt like this, I would never put myself in this situation again. And yet I have. So I guess I really am a dumbass.