I am nrvs kitteh. Srsly.

I have been on 3 coffees, a dinner and a brunch, all for a total score of "meh." Tonight, I am going to Eddie's Attic with a gentleman named Pianoguy. Yes, that is his real name, except it's not. My sister knows his real name, just in case he's played the okeydoke on me and isn't really nice and fun but an axe murderer. (Please note that I am using the term "okeydoke" in a way that is not even yet recognized in Urban Dictionary. I am that cool, thanks to the 20-somethings at work.)

I am pretty sure that this will not be meh. There have been numerous phone conversations. He has played the piano for me over the phone and taken requests. I have not played the piano for him, because that would be the end of things right there. (That, and I don't have a piano any more.) He seems very intriguing. I am intrigued.

So. . .I am hoping that the final score on this will be something other than "meh." Wish me luck.

Cat Update

I found the cat. It turns out that after she got over her initial shy, she's a glutton for attention. When I am on my bed typing on the laptop, she generally trys to get between my hands and the keyboard. If you're chatting with me online, that means you'll get a message like zzzzzadfskj;l a ase; Don't take it personally. I don't even know what that means.

The cat's full name is Cassie Opeia Lastname. It's pronounced like the name "Cassiopeia," but with the added benefit of driving my daughter up the wall, much to the glee of me and my son.

Son: "The cat's name is Cassie Opeia Lastname."

Daughter: "No, her name is Cassiopeia. Not Cassie Opeia. She still needs a different middle name."

Son: "Her middle name is Opeia. Mom decided. Right Mom?"

Mom: "Right."

Daughter: "MooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooom!"

It's the simple pleasures in life, after all.

Ding letter

I don't even know if companies send out Ding Letters any more. They go something along the lines of, "Thank you for your response to our position of blah blah blah. After reviewing your qualifications, we have offered the position to another candidate. We will, however, maintain your resume on file for the next 30 days." Now, I think, you just get nothing. Dead Air. I always preferred the Ding Letter, even when I thought I would be able to paper the walls with them. (They are named for the noise that a timer makes when it goes off. Ding! Thank you for playing, we have some lovely consolation prizes for you in the back. Steve, let's tell her what she's won!)

Anyway, I got the ding letter from the Saturday Night Fun Guy. Which is fine, since he's desperately seeking his second wife, and I'm just looking for some good conversation and to get out of the house so the cat can't stick her rear in my face any more. (That's what's happening right now.) "Dear Carson, Thank you for your response to our position of Girlfriend. After reviewing your qualifications, we have offered the position to another candidate. We will, however, maintain your profile on file for the next 30 days." Or something like that.

(It actually was via IM: "I thoroughly enjoyed our time together and loved the discussion. But, I didn't sense enough chemistry for long term potential. Is that too frank?" To which I replied no, of course not. And then cried.)

I, of course, am fine. I am here. With the cat. And the ice cream. With chocolate syrup. (And that reminds me of Israeli guy, whose favorite junk food is Dairy Queen. And was such the good kisser. And who told stories about his military career, being an MP on the Gaza Strip. And did I mention the kissing?)

No, I still haven't heard from him. No response is a response, though.

Hey, c'mere. Wanna hear about dating in this century?

Yeah. It's different. Or maybe I'm the one that's different. In any case, it's not like I can go out to teh bars and party like it's 1992. Because The Spot and Aunt Charley's aren't there any more. (moment of silence)

Anyway, for all of you single chicks out there. . .right. Gotcha. Okay, live vicariously through me for a bit. God knows, I've lived vicariously through you guys enough, you still married not sleeping alone people.

So I got this tip to sign up with OKCupid. It's free. I like that price tag. I figured from the troll-baiting days at iVillage, my bs detector was pretty well up to snuff, and the ones with the higher prices don't actually screen for bloody axes or anything, it's just a computer. Granted, there are some HNGs that hang out there, but they're easier to deal with online than in person at the bar. (Of course, that assumes that the horney bar guys would be hitting on me, but it's my blog, my fantasy, right? Of course right.)

Anyway, since the introduction to the OKCupid website, I've also been introduced to the concept of the "coffee". In brief, it's not a date but a "i met you over the internet and you seemed reasonably entertaining and sane, but i want to screen you for obvious defects in a well lit public place before giving you my last name or phone number just in case you end up being a few sandwiches short of a picnic."

I had a coffee scheduled for last week, and I wasn't all that thrilled about it, but not knowing exactly what my value was on open market, I took it. This could have been my last chance for adult interaction, you know? He rescheduled for today, and in the meantime I got another offer for this weekend. And then yesterday afternoon, another. And then this evening. . .a last minute dinner invite. So with no further ado, we can head to the locker room for the 10th inning show.

Saturday:

Coffee the first: This coffee was the one described as "okay." The SThe guy was reasonably nice & I seemed to entertain him, but he didn't so much entertain me. Plus, he went on a rant against modern medicine. You know, antibiotics, cancer research, all that. I'm not seeing this as a love connection.

Coffee the second: This was a spur of the moment thing, at about 8:00 last night, and took place at the Starbucks where I first realized that Starbucks was not my style. That's right, the one Mr. Wisecrow took me to, before he stole my sister. This guy was fun to talk to, and in many ways is someone I would like to see again. He's ALSO a friend on Facebook. . .that's why I was being so coy there! He is a Christian, which I think is kind of nice. I don't know if anything else will happen with it.

Coffee the third: Today at 2:30. Okay, call me judgey, but if this guy was really 50, they were 50 REALLY BAD YEARS. Plus, he had bad teeth. And an annoyingly high voice. So, no. And then. . .AND THEN. . .he went on to reference the Anne Rice Sleeping Beauty novels. And ask me how I felt about overnights away from home when I didn't have the kids. Ew. Creepy unattractive old guy. (Margaret, think Harry. Yeah.)

And then. . .the capper. Le sigh. This guy messages me & basically says "Hey, I'm in town for a convention, I know this is last minute, would you come have dinner?" And we chatted for a few more minutes, and I said FINE, I'll break EVERY RULE about first we chat, then we email, then if you are SUPER nice I will give you the carsonsfiles email, which is forwarded to my regular email. . .and THEN if you are REALLY exceptional, I will meet you for coffee. I got his real name, left that profile up on my computer & the chat with his cellphone number up, so that in the case of my untimely demise he could be a person of interest. . .and went for it.

He was funny and sexy and cute, and he is in town on a bio conference because his company is looking for a cure for breast cancer and OH MY GOOD GRIEF HE LIVES IN FREAKING ISRAEL. So I'm thinking the future potential is relatively low here, but I did kiss him. And he was a good kisser. And now I'm thinking of packing it in and moving to a kibbutz because if that's how they kiss over there then I am all for it.

And there you have my weekend as Scarlett O'Hara, belle of the ball. Teh end.

About that cat. . .

I'm pretty sure she's in the house. The doors were closed, the carrier was in the hall. . .I unzipped it and waited for her to get out on her own. That was about three and a half hours ago, and since then there has been no evidence of cat.

I was warned that she was a fraidy cat. I don't think of myself as very scary, but I guess the cat does.

The cat came with the name of "Cass". I need to morph that into something that works for me. . .and so far, I'm coming up with very little. Let me know if you have the answer.

We'll see if she ever turns up or just disappears like the blogger posts sometimes do.

Let's face it, I'm pooped.

I'm just so tired. I'm tired of my house being in chaos and disarray. I'm tired of my daughter being awake until 10 pm, I'm tired physically.

I made the decision that I'm not getting a Christmas tree--I can't add to the chaos here, which is all it would do. The kids are going to NoNick's house tomorrow, and he keeps them until after Christmas, so they wouldn't be able to enjoy it. So I'm not doing it. I'll do a little one, maybe one of those rosemary trees.

On the bright side. . .

I am getting a cat on Saturday or Sunday. Fortunately, cats are lower maintenance than kids, so I don't think the cat will make me quite as pooped.

And I found a Rudolph nose today, a red nose that flashes. Life is good.

Shameless brag (yes, another one)

I got an email from Thing 1's teacher last week. (That's the daughter.) There's a county contest, which feeds into a state contest, for Reader of the Year. Heh. If you knew my daughter, you'd be putting money on her to win for the state. She's 8, and she's been reading for over 5 years--you do the math. She loves to read, and further, she's pretty daggum good at it. Reads books that I chose not to read. For an example, read her essay, written for the contest. (I wonder if there's prize money involved? Or at least a Border's gift certificate.)

My Reading Autobiography

by Feral Cat disguised as Smart Child

My favorite hobby is reading. I started reading when I was two and a half years old. The first book I remember reading was Madeline. When I read, I feel like I am actually watching the book, and it seems like it’s a free movie in my head. If I had a choice between books and movies, I would choose books. I am interested in different kinds of books. I can’t think of a book I wouldn’t like. I like to read for two and a half hours on weekdays and all of the weekend. I like to read before bed, because it improves my reading skills more and calms me down. Whenever I go on errands with my mom or dad, I always like to take a book in the car. I enjoy having reading for a talent, because it is good for you and your grammar skills also improve. Something bad about loving to read is when you try to read, you always get disturbed, and you are never allowed to read when you want to.

Right now, I like to read Harry Potter, Charlie Bone and the Oz books. I also like to read history books. I have also read, in order: the American Girls series and The Chronicles of Narnia. My favorite book in the Chronicles of Narnia is The Silver Chair. I liked The Silver Chair because it has one setting underground and they get to meet gnomes and the Witch Queen. I have also read Flatland by Edwin Abbott. If you ask me about Flatland, I would say that it was explosively wonderful. Zero, one, two and three dimensions are interesting and make you think. I like to read the Usborne History Encyclopedia. The evolution section is awesome because you can learn about the evolution of man and sea creatures. I like also to read The Number Devil. The main character, Robert, has fun doing math. It calls powers “hops” and calls square roots “rutabagas”. I almost embarrassed myself saying that in math class one day!

Reading keeps you from being afraid in situations that are new, like going to the dentist. My mom told me I read a book called Meet Michael’s Dentist before I went to the dentist the first time. I liked it so much, I wanted to actually bring it to the dentist!

When I grow up, I want to be an editor, because they read books and test them to see if they are any good. If they like them, they give them to the publisher and tell the author, “Your book has been published.” But I’m going to have to learn how to be more picky about what I like in books, because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be a good editor.

I promise, I asked her questions and she answered them. I made sure the sentences were complete sentences. (You know I didn't edit for style or content, because she has that split infinitive in there that gives me the willies every time I see it.) But am I crazy, or do I have a ringer here?