Can I get a Witness?

A little nugget of wisdom on dating. It stemmed from an email I got today with just three short lines, the last one stating, "I don't have anything clever to say, I was just thinking about you and wanted to say hi."

Being single is fun...and in a lot of ways quite an easy life. What really makes "having someone" in your life worth giving up all that freedom and ease is that simple phrase- "I was thinking about you." You can have family galore (and I do) and great friends, but no matter how much they love you, their primary focus is on their own significant others and kids. Being single you can forget what it's like to have someone just thinking about you... for no good reason.

One of my favorite lines from the totally awesome flick "Shall We Dance" is when Susan Sarandon explains to someone why her marriage is important to her:

"There are millions of people in this world. And when they die no one will ever know they existed. People get married so that they will have a witness. A witness to their lives.
A witness for the good things, the bad things. A witness for the exciting things, the mundane things. To have some one to promise that: "Yes, I will witness your life" as you witness mine."

Regardless of my feelings for the guy who wrote the email--it made me pause, get a slightly warm and fuzzy feeling and think - hey, someone cares about me.

People - don't we all want that? Can I get a witness?

Adios.....MFer

An unnamed friend was recently talking to me about her romantic woes.

She shared a story about a fella she dated over the last several months and what I wil loosely call his split personality.

There was about a decade of years between them, with her being on the high end of said difference. One of my favorite things that he told her was that they would have to move this relationship along quickly because she didn't have many years left to multiply and replenish the earth, so to speak. With miniature versions of himself no doubt. (Something I think the world may be better off without.)

She assured him that she had enough years behind her to have made her peace with the fact that a family could come in many ways, not all of them traditional. He then retorted that he didn't have quite so many years behind him and thus hadn't had the time to make his peace with it yet. Interesting.

This is just a little bite-sized sample of the bundle of sunshine and joy she was dealing with. It should help set the stage for what comes next.

Apparently this fella also was slightly (by slightly, I mean intensely) melodramatic and could go from "I love you" to I'm not speaking to you" faster and more times in a day than McCain can say "maverick" or "my friends" in a one hour debate.

She finally got fed up with it all and as she recounted their final "break up" chat she told me that she just kind of sat there and listened patiently. BUT...she had a dream. And here I quote,

"I wish I could have just done the same thing to him that I did to P--- when we broke up for the 5 trillionth time."

I was puzzled since I lost track of how they broke up after the 4 millionth time and I asked her what she did. (Understand as you read on that Mormons as a general rule are not a casually swearing bunch.)

She replied, " I just stood up, calmly walked away and said - Adios Mother F***er." (Sorry mom.)

I don't why--well, I guess I do--but this ticked my funny bone. A lot. I simply conjure in my mind the surprised face of any and all of her boyfriends as they register this parting, evenly measured shot and it brings me joy for the rest of the day.

Adios Mother F***er.

Still Undecided?

I was driving Keely (my 5 year old niece) home from a church activity tonight with the youth where I have a feeling she heard her mom talking about politics. The following conversation occurred in the car.

Keely: Aunt Shauri, who are you going to vote for?

Shauri: Hm..I don't know. Right now I guess Obama.

Keely: That's who I'm voting for too. We want the same guy.

Shauri: Really, why are you voting for him?

Keely: I don't know, I just like him better. I'm really in to him. I think he is a lot more handsome than the other guy, right? He seems nicer.

I had to agree. Why do I have the feeling that Keely isn't that far off from how most of the population will be making their decisions come November? She put forth some compelling arguments that I may latch on to myself.

Another Photo Shoot

Alison was kind enough to let me use her and the boys as victims in my quest to learn how to use my camera. It was really fun to see how they all interacted together and how James (NOT Alex) in particular really cozied up to the camera. I can't imagine where he learned to be such a ham...



It was pretty clear they have a lot of fun together as a family as you can see from this pic. If you want to see some of the other shots you can check 'em out at Silent Spinster Stories. Enjoy!

Fortune Mints

Last night I went to dinner with Tricia. The Melting Pot. Y-U-M. That spells yum, and it means delicious. Anytime a restaurant puts a whole pot of cheese on the table, followed by a giant pot of chocolate, it just feels right. In fact that may be how I picture heaven.

We were chatting our waitress up while she stirred our pot 'o golden cheese and I told her I used to be a server and one trick I did to get better tips and make people happy was to give them fortune mints at the end of their meal. What you ask are fortune mints? Of course you haven't heard of them (unless you frequented the Hops in Crystal City) I invented them. Consider this post the copyright.

Basically, I just bought mints, wrote up a bunch of fortunes for people (eg: The person sitting across from you will not bring you longterm happiness - good stuff like that) and tied them around the mints. I put them with the check at the end of the meal.

People ate them up. Literally and figuratively.

We all laughed about how wonderfully clever this was, and then Tricia and I went on with our meal.

But, lo and behold--little waitress lady was not your average server.

At the end of the meal, satisfied and full, Tricia and I opened our checks to discover little white fortune notes stapled to our mints. She even took it to the next step by giving us lucky numbers!! My biggest mistake was probably not playing them at the Lotto last night, but regardless, we got a good laugh and were forced to tip well after I promised her fortune mints brought results.

Here's my takeaway. This girl is not your average server. Talk about clever - and being astute enough to not only listen to your customer, pretend she's witty, and then actually take action on what you hear. Big results. Huge Tip. Happy customers.

Walk Part Deux? No.

Time for a quick Match update. Remember the "walk around the block" guy? The one who seemed to be looking for the fastest possible exit from our meeting and then emailed me the next day to tell me how delighted he was to meet me, and could we get together again soon?

Right. So I pondered on his response for a while and whether to answer it, but curiosity killed the cat and in all likelihood it will also one day kill me. I replied.

I told him I was baffled that he wrote because I thought he was most definitely not interested in seeing me again after his quick exit, and that his actions and message seemed to contradict each other. Explanation?

He quickly responded with an apology, and an "I'm not very good at this or at communicating, but I'm working on it. I really liked you and hope we can go to dinner."

After that I felt a little more sympathetic to him, and started to vacillate on my position. I didn't answer right away because, well come on, the whole first night was rather painful and I'm not sure I was up for another. Dilemma: do I go for the sake of the blog, or do I save myself from more potential pain?

I wrestled with this decision for a day and a half (not a week or even 4 days) when I got this email:

"Hey Shauri! How are you? I am not trying to be rude or anything, like I said I really thought you were great. But why are you even on match.com or looking to date. It seems like you don't even have time to return an e-mail let alone date anyone. Strange.... Anyway, good luck! You seemed nice...."

What?? I love when people aren't TRYING to be rude, but it just sort of happens. Or maybe he's suggesting he doesn't have to try, that it's a gift.

Either way, I guess he has a valid point--I mean why am I on match.com, and am I really looking to date? He may be spot-on. It is nice that he still ends with the trailed off "you seemed nice..." So tragic.

I Believe

I've been delinquent this week and have several posts to catch up on, but before I go back and recap some highlights from the week....PEOPLE...how 'bout them sox? I know most of you could probably care less about baseball, and even less about the Red Sox, but when something as magical happens as what occurred at Fenway last night...well it's time to stop, reflect and pay tribute.

A quick summary: The Red Sox were down 3-1 in the series and on the brink of elimination. They've looked worse and worse with each progressive game this series. In the 6th inning they were down 7-0. I turned off the TV and went to bed. At almost midnight, I got a phone call from Travis that involved a LOT of screaming and laughing. Turns out they made a huge comeback and scored 7 RUNS. All tied up in the 8th. I turned the TV back on. In the bottom of the 9th, with 2 outs and a couple men on base, JD Drew (who had earlier hit a 2 run homer in the rally) hit a rope out to left that scored Youkilis and won the game. Elation.

See game winner here.

Folks, this is the biggest comeback in a post-season game since 1929.

Terry Francona (GM), who has been part of enough amazing rides with this team (including coming back from 3-1 to the Yankees -first team to ever come back from 3-1 and win) to not be easily carried away, called this game "magical."

There is no team that is more drama-rama, or more "we can come back from any hole we're in" than these guys. Which means you have to love 'em. Proof positive of this fact is (and here's how I'll tie it back to a subject most of you are MORE interested in - Match.com) an email I got this morning. And from a Yankee fan no less:

"You gotta hand it to those Sox;
an amazing metaphor for
all of us in those times
when it looks hopeless.
What a game. What an inspiration.

And, yes, I was raised with the Yankees.

-SipT"

I couldn't have said it better SipT.
A quick digression: Do you think he was really raised with the Yankees? Like Mowgli was raised with wolves? Cause that's kind of cool, but strange.
I'm back.
In dark economic and political times, who better than than the beloved Bo Sox to show us....hope? And what a fighting effort can do when combined with hope. Jason Varitek said it best after tha game, "You can't take away belief."

I'm here to say you can. Because I did. I went to bed. But the good news is one simple miracle is enough to remind you and bring you right back in to the fold of believers. Red Sox Nation--I extend a global apology for forgetting that with you, the impossible is always possible. I DO believe.

p.s. Anyone want to guess what the handle SipT means?

Bees, Keys, and other Fall Fun

Yesterday was a beautiful autumn day in Ann Arbor. About 75 degrees, colors on the trees, and football (if you can call it that) in the air. Jana was in town with her kids, so Lisa and Kristin grabbed all their kids piled 'em in a couple cars with Jana & Co. and headed on down to Dexter to the cider mill. 'Cause aint nothin' that says fall like homemade donuts and fresh cider.

There were a couple of downsides on this otherwise perfect day.

1. Bees also love crisp, fall days and were out in hordes to share in our enjoyment of apples and donuts. Kids were attacked on all sides and one little girl we don't know (but who Jana claims was 15, but looked about 9 or 10) had a complete hysterical breakdown - without being bit - and was carried kicking, crying and screaming to her car. "The Bees! The Bees!!!!"

2. Kristin locked her keys in the car. Later I discovered from an unknown source that she had not just locked in one set..but all three sets. This may have been an all-time record. Here you can see Kristin enjoying the day...and then not so much.





The good news is, the treats were delightful, and while Kristin waited for AAA to bring her a new key, we all walked over to the Dexter Days Fair where the kids took pony rides, got their faces painted and had a rockin' good time. (see more pics at: Silentspinsterstories.com)


On the way home when Keely asked Kristin what the AAA guy looked like, Kristin, who had just complained that he was 45 minutes late replied, "He was short and dark with beady little eyes." Hmmm...

Ah, Autumn.

I fought the Law...and we both won?

Do our law enforcement officers no longer have passion for oppression, power and a hard fought battle?

I got a ticket (undeservedly I assure you) coming out of the airport a few weeks ago, and called up the court to find out how much I owed. Usually I'm all about taking these "little problems" to court and seeing what clever tactics I can find to wriggle out of them. Although I am occasionally guilty as charged, I find some small (or not so small) part of me enjoys the challenge of beating the system.

This time however, I didn't have the energy. I called the court ready to just pay and walk.

Imagine my surprise when I asked how much the ticket was and how I could pay it and the clerk suggested I come in and fight it. They wanted me to come in and fight it? I was stunned and told her I was planning to just pay. She responded that I could probably do without the insurance points, and why not just stop by next Monday?

She made it sound so pleasant and easy that I couldn't resist. I signed up for the gig--and talk about a nice sales job.

So, fast forward to this week and a trip to court. I added my name to the list of about 5 million waiting to be seen, and about an hour later was called in to an office with 3 desks. The guy who called me in, sat me down, told me what my ticket said I had done (speeding), and showed me my record. As in--you have had tickets in 3 different states over the last 4 years.

I was actually interested to see what was on my record and thanked him. Next thing I know he jumps from my record to asking me:

Cop: So you probably don't want 2 points on your insurance, right?

I wondered if this was a trick question, and look around nervously for hidden cameras, then responded.

Shauri: Well..no. Why would I?

Cop: Well then here's your new ticket. I'm writing you up for a double parking ticket. No points. It'll cost you 50 dollars more. Go pay 150 at the cashier and you're good to go.

I just sat there with my mouth open, wondering when I had to tell him that it wasn't my fault I got a ticket.

Cop: Do you like that deal?

Shauri: Uh...yes.

Cop: OK. Go pay.

I hesitated no longer, gathered my things and quickly scadoodled to the cashier. Easiest ticket dodging I ever did.

And all I keep wondering is....How bad off IS Detroit economically?

Unbelievable.

Seriously. I have never, ever professed to understand men, but just when you think you get some little glimmer of understanding in to their minds, even that crack snaps shut and you're left in the dark again. You read what happened on our "meeting" last night. This morning, first thing in my mailbox I find this:

Hey Shauri! It was nice meeting you last night. Our little introductory meeting sort of ended abruptly. I didn't get a chance to ask you for your phone number. Maybe we can talk sometime?

Oh, did you like the Red Sox game last night? I can't believe the Angels tried that squeeze play in the 9th. That was silly!

Anyway, I'd really like to hear back from you again. You seem very nice. Have a great day!


WHAT??? Someone, anyone, shed some light here.

Yeah our meeting ended abruptly runnerman -- it ended abruptly when you said, let's walk to our cars after two walks around the block! And what's this with calling it our "introductory meeting???" I mean - is this like a job interview process? Is this what usually happens in the online dating world?

K.I.T.

First things first. I had another date with "hockeydad" this weekend. I use the term date loosely since we made the decision to be friends moving forward and not use scary words like date. So I suppose what we really did was hang out. (On what felt a lot like a date.) We hung out at a local caramel joint and then went to a comedy club. I would give more details except for the fact that at the end of the "hanging out" he asked me if I ever googled myself. Because I am exceptionally (above average anyway) bright, I figured out he could very well be reading this blog and I'd better be a bit more cautious about what I put on here. Not that I wouldn't tell him everything I write - we all know I'm not one to hold back - but it might be better for him to hear it rather than read it.

Moving on. I had another match.com date tonight. It was the standard, "Let's meet for coffee." I have to tell you, I didn't want to go at all, and I should have followed my instincts. This guy has been trying to get me to meet him for a LONG time. I finally caved.

I showed up to the selected coffee joint and he was standing outside, cup in hand. OK. I thought we might go in, take a seat, and maybe even grab me one. Rookie error apparently. He said it was pretty busy inside and maybe we should just go for a walk outside. I said, fine, but it's a little cold, so maybe I'll just grab some hot chocolate to keep me warm while we walk. He agreed, we walked inside and he waited while I got my cup 'o cocoa.

This didn't really bother me, I mean I'm fine with buying my own cocoa, but I did make a mental note. I mean, not really that gentlemanly after he kept begging me to meet him. (As Abram pointed out, he was under no obligation to do it. I agree. Just telling you what the average gal is thinking.)

We walked around the block. Then we walked around the block again. I didn't really get what was going on. I mean--was this the end objective to just keep walking around the same block with no real purpose, and if so, how long would we have to keep doing it?

Just when I figured we were about to turn another block he said, "Well, we're both parked on Liberty, should we just walk that way to our cars?"

Huh?

It was so bizarre. I didn't feel the slightest connection to him, and apparently he didn't feel it for me either. I was actually grateful we could cut the night short and I appreciated not having to spend another hour circling the vicinity pretending I wanted to be there...but there was a piece of me that was a little bugged. I mean, sure I was done with him, but how could he feel the same? Hello- look at me. I'm awesome. And I'm kidding. Yeah, not really.

So now I'm in the mental state of "peace out." Nice knowing you, and thanks for giving me 45 minutes of your valuable time. It was at least kind that he didn't just look me up and down, make his assessment, shake hands and leave.

We get to the car, and the following is our fond farewell:

SQ: well, this is me.
Runnerman: Yeah, I'm a few more up.
SQ: (nodding and reaching out for a firm handshake.) OK. Well. It was...nice to meet you?
Runnerman: (goes in for the hug instead, he has a very gentle, almost feminine grip.) It was nice to meet you too.

The hug throws me off. I kind of stand there awkwardly for a minute cause the hug makes me think there's more to say. Plus it seems like you're supposed to wait for the obligatory, "I'll call you" even though both of you know he doesn't mean it. It just makes you feel like there's closure. Pause. More awkwardness. I round the car, open my door and give him an odd half smile.

Runnerman: Well..hey...

I just want the pain to end. Make him stop talking.

Runnerman: ...Keep in touch, ok?

Seriously? Keep in touch?

SQ: Uh-huh.

One more puzzled look as I climb in my car and gun it out of there.

I have never had a more odd experience in my life. No one's told me after a first encounter to K.I.T since 3rd grade. I plan to mail him a letter tonight. Hopefully he can paste it in his yearbook.

The Daily Show

Regardless of your political preferences, here are two Daily Show moments that absolutely must not be missed:

The Black Candidate

Senior Citizens