Calm, Cool, and Collected.

Two fruity vodka drinks

+

a few bites of calamari

+

an unexpected, romantic, passionate first kiss from a man with whom I had no idea there was such chemistry

=

Me, almost fainting, right on the deck of a very public bar.



Seriously. I literally mean that after a few minutes of kissing, I thought to myself "Oh. My. God. I have to stop this kiss, I have to actually tell him that I have to sit down, and I may actually pass out before I have the chance to put my head down."

So I did.

He had to run to get me a glass of water... The entire episode may have lasted for just a few moments, but it felt like forever. I was mortified- I felt like I was going to pass out.

I think I may have experienced the "vapors".

As I told the story to a couple girlfriends this afternoon, one said to me "Way to play it cool, Aileen."

Yeah, that's me. Super suave. Super cool.

Ha.

My Guy Gauge

Things are actually heating up in the man department.

I think that old saying "it's either feast or famine"...or maybe it's "when it rains, it pours"...or whatever...

Bottom line is that there are quite a few men "in play" at the moment.

And it's driving me nuts.

There's the southern gentleman, the engineer, the social guy, and the cute guy from the boat.

They are nice, attractive, attentive, reasonably interesting.

And none of them are exciting me much. If it wasn't for the fact that I was so recently swept off my feet, I'd begin to worry that maybe I don't have it in me anymore. Maybe no one will excite me enough. But Motorcycle Guy proved that wasn't true.

So how do I know that none of these guys are doing it for me?

Because I don't like any of them enough to stop sleeping with The Cop. No one that I'm meeting gives me butterflies like he does. The chemistry doesn't even come close.

He's like my Guy Gauge. If I was really swept away by someone, then of course I'd stop my casual little arrangement with The Cop, right?

Right?

Seeing him has helped in some odd way. It keeps me from sleeping with someone that I don't have enough feelings for. Because when I sleep with someone too soon, I often develop feelings for that person that aren't really real.

Even as I write this, I see how convoluted it all sounds.

But just look at that picture. Look at it. You know why I chose it? Because The Cop looks soooo much like him. Ahhhhhhhhh.

You Look Just Like...

When I was a little girl, people told me I looked like Amy Carter. And it was right as I was getting my very first pair of eyeglasses. (For those of you old enough to remember Amy Carter, she was known for her nerdy eyeglasses. Ironically, I couldn't find any pictures of her wearing those glasses...)

I hated it. I think she and I were close to the same age...and I knew that she was considered plain and nerdy. Little boys used to taunt me by calling me by her name.


Thankfully, Jimmy Carter didn't stay in office that long...and I outgrew my nerdy look.


Then during pre-adolescent years, I was sometimes compared to Suzanne Somers. Only by my best friends that were trying to give me compliments, of course. And our biggest difference was the fact that I was flat as a board.

Over the years, I've been compared to her more often. I think it's the size of our smile and our shaggy blonde hair. I don't mind this particular comparison.



In my early twenties, it was Debbie Gibson. Yes, I wore the bowler hat. And wore my hair long and straight like hers. I have pictures that I look at now and think- OMG! Again, I didn't really like this comparison, because while Debbie Gibson may have been considered "cute" at the time, she certainly wasn't considered a hottie by any means.


In my early twenties, when I was pursuing an acting career, people starting comparing me to Teri Garr. I had to admit, my acting headshots looked just like her. Though I am quite a few years younger than her, I didn't mind because I figured "hey, she's a working actress...this could be a good thing!"

A couple years ago I walked into a coffee shop when the clerk behind the counter exclaimed excitedly "Oh my God, you look just like Teri Garr!" And he went on to explain what a huge fan he was (like...president of the fan club type of fan). I gotta say...it was creepy. I got a very brief taste of what celebs must feel like sometimes...

The other comparison I've absolutely hated...that I've had for years and years...is to Barbra Streisand. Is she phenomenally talented? Of course. This comparison hits one of my hot buttons though...my nose. As a young girl, when I would get compared to Barbra, I was sure it was only because of my nose. I was self-conscious about it enough.

Oddly, though, even during my post-nose job years, I still get compared to her. And my nose is now totally fine.

Last weekend while boating with friends, this man who was trying to hit on me kept saying "You look like someone...I just can't figure it out!" I knew it would be one of the above celebs, most likely Teri, Suzanne or Barbra since those are the ones I get the most often...

Finally he said- "I got it! With that hat, you look just like Barbra Streisand in the movie 'What's Up Doc' "!

Almost made me want to burn that hat when I got home.

Finally, a use for Spanx

I always hated Spanx. And any other girdle-type garments.

Back in my acting days, I had to don corset-type undergarments a few times. It was difficult to breathe- it took practice. But they did give one a nature-defyingly tiny waist, and pushed up boobage.

For real life, however, I never quite understood the appeal of these garments. I bought a pair, years ago, giving into the hype.

And yes, when I would put on a pair a spanks under a tight pair of pants or skirt, things did look smoother and smaller. But I couldn't help but think I was cheating...

Aren't spanx and girdles just another way to let ourselves be comfortable with....

...gaining weight?

Don't they just help us with our denial? Hey! I still wear the same size jeans, so I must be OK!

OK, that may be true, but only after squeezing and pushing any extra cushion into a pair of spanx.

If you need a pair of spanx for a dress or skirt to look nice...maybe you should get a bigger size? Or maybe lose a few pounds? Or do some sit ups?

Anyway, this is my issue. My concerns over weight-denial, that could lead to me becoming less fit and less healthy.

Meanwhile, I've found a good use for the pair of spanx that I own. (If I have any male readers, you may want to stop reading at this point...)


It just so happens that I suffer from really bad periods. Painful. Crampy. Heavy flow.

And it hasn't gotten better with age- it's gotten worse. But guess what? Wearing a pair of spanx at that time of the month actually helps. Kinda like someone rubbing your stomach or giving you a lower back massage.

Go figure! Maybe I should contact the Spanx marketing department?

I Could Never Be On The Bachelorette

...and not because I'm not young enough or hot enough (though both those points are true), but because I'm a terrible breaker-upper.

I can see it now. I'd meet 30 hot guys, and despite the fact that they may be obnoxious, or sad, or not-too-sharp, I wouldn't be able to send any of them home.

The producers would get pissed at me, I'm sure.

I've been thinking about my breaker-upper past lately because I'm currently having trouble cutting one man loose.

The only time I have gone the traditional "I just don't want to be with you" route was with my first long term relationship. I loved him, I was with him for seven years...and then I became infatuated with someone else. That "someone else" had a long term girlfriend that he broke up with quickly and swiftly. I guess that motivated me to make a move.

So what did I do?

I called my first love on the phone, and quickly, abruptly, coldly told him I was done with our relationship. I didn't even give much of an explanation, and I terminated the conversation as quickly as I could. Rip the band aid off quickly right?

It worked until he ended up on my doorstep in the middle of the night begging to come in. Couldn't say no, it was breaking my heart.

Since then, each time I had doubts about a man or a relationship, I simply created enough drama that sent the man away. Did I doubt his faithfulness? Then continuously accuse him or investigate him for "proof" until I pissed him off (though I was always right).

Am I just not that excited about him? Then I would do one of two things...be such a mean, disagreeable bitch every time I was with him...or simply fade away and not return calls.

Was I worried he just would never commit? Then I would create scenarios that added pressure...invitations to meet the folks...talks about the future. I still have skid marks on my floor.

As I grew older, breaking up became more difficult instead of easier. Each time I was with a man that I wasn't happy with, I almost felt I was thumbing my nose at fate or whatever by rejecting him.

Velvet in Dupont said it best in a recent post:

Because ending a mediocre relationship in your mid-thirties takes a lot of work when the ball is in your court. You wonder if this is your last chance. You wonder if you’ve been too picky. You wonder if this is your last chance. You wonder if you were too hard on him. You wonder if this is your last chance. You wonder if you’ve become inflexible. You wonder if this is your last chance. You wonder if you aren’t meant to be with anyone ever in life. You wonder, god damned it, if this, for the love of all holy hell, is your last fucking chance.

So my breaker-upper skills are less than par because of fear. Fear of confrontation, of course. But also fear of losing out. On the big picture.

So returning to my original scenario, what would happen if I was on The Bachelorette and had to choose from amongst all those men?

Damn, I'd have to get creative with causing enough drama to actually make them want to walk out on a TV show. Maybe tell them that I believe in polygamy and actually want to stay with all of them? Maybe tell them that I'm only interested in men who are bisexual? Or like to dress as women? Or are willing to completely support me and take care of the house and kids while I get my nails done and go to the spa?

Hmmmmm...maybe one of those methods would work in my current situation.

For the love of god, I'm kidding. Even I'm not that bad.

Random Thoughts from my UK Vacay

My mother and I visited England for a week over the Memorial Day holiday. We visited London, Bath, Manchester and Bollington (to visit relatives). Some random observations:

• The climate is extraordinarily similar to that of upstate NY where I grew up.
• We had six days of bright sunny skies and warm weather, which is apparently very rare.
• I generally don't like tourist attractions, and would prefer to simply "experience".
  
• One of the coolest parts of the trip was eating lunch in a crypt beneath St. Paul's cathedral.
• Much of my annoyance with my mother is caused by my own fear.
• My mother is not a very independent, self-reliant person.
• Men wear suits in London. It made me realize how rarely I see that here.
• I love the way crowds spill into the streets outside the pubs.
• I absolutely love cider. Especially Bulmer's Pear Cider.
• England's food gets a bad rap. I love it.
• I look a little English. But my teeth are much nicer.
• The Queensbury Hotel in Bath would be a lovely romantic getaway.
  
• See the show Spring Awakening. But don't see it with your mother.
• The English don't love Susan Boyle as much as we do.
• Service people in London are rude.
• Service people in every other part of England are extremely friendly.
• I was a good daughter about 95% of the time. Bratty teenaged Aileen only appeared a few times.
  

How Do I Love Thee?

I certainly know I've given my mom a tough time on this blog once or twice. Or twelve. At least. I've complained about her...I've complained about our relationship.

And here I am, days away from taking a week long trip to England with her. Sharing a room. Being together 24-7. For her very first trip outside the country. Happy Mother's Day and Happy Birthday all in one (she turns 65 this week...)

AND...she is still having trouble with the recent loss of her mom, and honored the one year anniversary of her dad's death. AND...she just learned that her company will be closing its doors, causing her to retire a bit sooner than she planned. She is definitely experiencing a low.


Our trip together could be a disaster if I don't get myself in the right frame of mind. I need to stay in a place of compassion. I need to remember what I love about my mom.

So here it goes. Me...counting the ways I love her.

1. She has built a solid marriage with my dad. Which meant that I grew up in a family where I never, ever, ever doubted loyalty. Rock solid.

2. She always worked hard to make sure we kids had what we needed. Though I was never spoiled, I had more than enough of what I needed.

3. Even though finances were often tight- she gave me "extras" throughout my childhood. She felt it helped me to discover my talents, my passions. I took dance lessons, music lessons, went to girl scout camp, entered baton twirling competitions, played softball...whatever the interest of the moment.

4. My mom was the key to making sure we took family vacations every year, no matter what. While we were limited to road trips, she always found fun, new places for us to go.

5. I have amazing and magical memories of Christmas. This is due primarily to my mother's devotion to the holiday, and all the work it would take to make it special.

6. I love the relationship I have with my brothers. I think they are pretty amazing. And my mom raised each of them.

7. My mother was one of the key people that taught me early that I could do anything that any man could. Though she would preface things with comments like "It's a man's world", somehow she made it very clear to me that I could still excel in that world.

8. She bakes. Enough said about that.

9. I love that she is young at heart. She likes to have fun and try new activities. Even though she is not big on change or risk...she still manages to keep "play" as a big part of her life.

10. OK...I've got to admit, I also love that she has some good genes. She has always looked younger than her years, and I am so glad that I resemble her.


Whew. There. I was a little nervous I wouldn't be able to come up with 10. I'll have to keep this Top 10 list in my purse as I travel...