Dating Line-up

Ladies and Gentlemen allow me to present the current cast of characters:

The Artist. 10 years younger then I. He's from England. He's charming in an irreverant British way. He say's things like, "Jesus I was bloody strip searched at the airport yesterday".

The camera operator. He's the guy on the right. He also has a pictures shirtless. I have a rule about that. I should stop being such a prude. He has that sexy Latin thing going for him. Still, he bores me.

The teacher/coach. He is funny! He says things like, "I'm cocky but insecure".

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Which man I should date? The teacher/coach is pulling ahead. As IF I'm gonna listen. None of the above is frequently my choice.

I'm Being Extorted

I'm being extorted by the DMV!

DMV
Registration Operations Division
P.O. Box 825341
Sacramento, CA 94262-5341

April 29, 2009

RE: Dishonored Check – (DMV did not submit check for payment.)

Dear Sir/Madam,

Enclosed please find a check for the balance of $114.00 as demanded in your notice dated April 23, 2009 . I have enclosed proof that you received $108.00 on April 4, 2009.

I am submitting this payment under protest solely in order to prevent you from imposing further sanctions. It is no way an admission of the validity of the demand. I expect full reparation will be made when you understand the extent of your continuing errors.

The original check for $108.00 was never presented to the bank for payment in January 2009. You may contact Wells Fargo at 1-800-869-3557 to verify your error.

Because you failed to submit the check, I am not liable for any late fees or penalties. I expect to be fully refunded $114.00.

Sincerely,

Charmaine Peterson

Enclosure

PS: You fuckers.

The Meltdown

Why I Melted Down with The King: A Complete Analysis

I’m an idiot. (And yes, those are my real boobs.) ...with a little push up bra assistance. Ok, ALOT of assistance.

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Did you think I was going to produce a two (2)-page report? Did someone just say "produce"? King of Produce, get it?

Okay. I’ll give you the theoretical version. It’s less interesting then the detailed version.

Basically it boils down to insecurity and fear. Zzzz (Isn’t this blog supposed to be funny?) I wanted this guy. He wasn’t my “usual” guy, the one that flatters me so that I know where I stand. (Apparently I need it or I'll go psycho on you.)

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In fact, he never said an encouraging word, He climbed trees, he was just out of reach. He was strong, funny and in charge. He impressed me. I was born to kiss him. We laughed. But I was standing on quicksand. I kept jockeying for power, some control and succeeded at neither.

Why do you think men chase me…it’s not me…it’s that they can’t have me. (Damn,I thought it was me.)

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But that's the OLD charmaine talking.

Despite the fact things were going well I got scared. I was out of control. Cue the self sabatoge music. (Do I hear violins?)

So I started a drunken fight just to get it over with. I was an obnoxious irrational bitch. I don’t even remember what I said. (Don't combine wine AND Tylenol PM people. Don't DO it!)
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You meet someone and bit-by-bit you reveal a fear, or a pain. And bit-by-bit a man shows he's not going to hurt you, repeat whatever offence.

Then, just in case it's not gonna happen. You punch his lights out.

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Thanks King. And King? I'm sorry. Where is the reset button?

It’s about living and learning my lovelies. As my mother says, “Ach sure Jaysus Charmaine yar such a feckin’ slow learner.”

Beach Baby

My date and I walked to the beach. It's a fun stroll. Everyone says "Good Morning"

At the beach we ran the stairs. Jogging down the jetty my date said, "Hey Char, wait up!"

Now I'm walking along the shore cracking seaweed polyps under my sneakers. (Always a mood elevator.)

Now we're flying Frisbee. My date does things like jumping up, doing the splits in the air and catching the Frisbee between his legs.

I'm running up the hill of doom (an impossible gradient, trust me). My date said, "the only reason I'm behind you is because I'm looking at your butt.

We went to a gigantic rock formation. The tide swirls and crashes all around it. You have seconds to take the step required to reach it before a wall of water sweeps in from either direction. We barely made it. My date said, "God I have so much fun when I'm with you."

I cancelled dinner with the Argentinian.

We went to dinner. Within 10 minutes of arriving home I became ill. My face was as green as my frisbee. My date pretended to ignore the 18 times I went to the bathroom.

He left me the receipt from dinner so I could advise the restaurant about the Salmon. (More like Salmonella.)

Oh Shit

Do you ever wake and and say, "Ah shit" out loud?

Not "Oh" shit.

"Ah" shit.

There's a difference. The "Ah" implies embarassment as opposed to surprise. The nuances of profanity. (Sounds like a book title?)

Yea so. I had a fight with The King on the phone. It was entirely my fault. I went psycho. (It's important to own your inner psycho.) Seriously, I did, go psycho. (Hangs head in shame.)

It was one of those, um...I don't know what? Maybe it was one of those "he's not that into you" situations. Not having developed skills to deal with such a scenario because it's never happened to me...I went psycho. (No I don't think I'm "all that" I just generally date men that adore me. You know...little ugly gnomes and such. They are very loyal and devoted creates really.)

I need to revert back to the guy that does not conceal his adoration. It helps me relax....so I don't have to worry. I'm very embarassed. You should have heard what I said to the man.

Here's the way I'm gonna look at it: "Psycho" It was a new hat, I tried it on. I didn't like it.

Miss? Can I try on the red one in the corner?

(Sales girl turns around to get the red hat. Charmaine runs to the edge of store, grabs the psycho hat and puts it on whispering...just one one more time. Arg.)

Today it's beach games (maybe a boat ride) and lunch followed by The Dance of Love (not really) with the Argentinian. I've got a double header.

Man Summary

The one (1) day I fail to wear make-up to the Laundry Matt the entire Newport Beach Fire Department arrives? Ahhh.

A 35 year old fire man asked me out anyway. He had a patch over one eye. He was likely blind in the other.

Now I know what I want: (Thank you Paul for making me actually think about it.) A real man who doesn't let me push him around, holds me accountable but admires me. He's brave. He is kind and desires a woman who isn't a weakling.

1. The Matador asked to go dancing tonight. I said "yes" then rescheduled.

2. Thursday morning Evil apppeared ON HIS KNEES, literally on his knees, outside on my front doorstep with a Cappuccino in one hand and a Frisbee in the other.

3. Chris, a man who really cares, asked me if I am still moving to Denver or if I merely sowing final oats before my departure?

5. Pool Boy will soon be returning from Italy. We committed to having dinner "the second date". We'll see what happens.

Conclusion: I've never dated so much. I've never felt so desired and confused. WTF? Am I secreting some kind of love hormone? Odd because, I just learned, I no longer have hormones.

I guess they didn't test for Testosterone.

The Cure

I'm cured. I can feel my leg.

The Matador took me to a sports Chiropractor. (Is looking for love a sport?) The man cured me with crazy contraptions one of which was a gigantic black vibrating thing. I said, "Don't you DARE come near me with that thing." He laughed.

Guess who was to blame for my paralyzed right leg?

You guessed it. It was the King.

The Chiropractor advised the "problem" was my left hip. Huh? Did you run into something, like a desk perhaps, about a week ago?"

"Uh...No." I replied. (I did however run into The King.)

In talking to "The King" he reminded me that he'd carried me to my bedroom, ya know, before I slapped him. You can't do that without smashing my head, (in this case hip) against the door jam. I told him that I since I got old I can't remember a thing. He said said since he met me me he can't remember where he is or whether or not he has kids. (He does.)

Then the Matador took me to lunch. When he picked me up he stopped his car in the middle of the street. He rushed around to open the door. He is very good looking and full of Argentinian bravado. I saw my neighbours. They were are all watching. They stop raking, stop watering the yard, stop everything...to look at us. I thought about blowing kissess...

I was a chatterbox. Either The Matador could care less or he doesn't understand English.

He just stared at my boobs.