Thanks for Playing.

This was written last Thursday. Sorry for the delayed posting.

Even in my weakened condition, I decided that a date last night was better than staying home. I know it is cheesy, but I met this one at the gym over a week ago…back before I broke my rib, when I could move, bend and tie my own shoes. We were in the same weight training class. I kept looking over my shoulder, thinking, I’ve met or seen this guy before. I walked up after class and said the most typical of all pick up lines, “I feel like I know you from somewhere.” I know, I’m so creative and sly. The only one less creative is, “Hey, do you know what time it is?” I was being serious though; I really did know him from somewhere. We talked briefly and he asked if he could get my number. Since we were both wearing a combo of pocketless spandex and dri-fix fabrics, we obviously had no pens. He then said “Hey, mine is easy to remember. My phone number just spells cranberry.” Not thinking twice, I went ahead and committed the word “cranberry” to my short-term memory. Only later, on my way home, did I realize that it is either not enough numbers, if you consider that you need an area code, or it’s too many numbers, if you assume it is an 801 area code. I tried dialing a variety of combos till I figured out that you need to dial 801-cra-nber. Yea, I was bored…stop judging me!

So last night we went to dinner where I learned the following facts:
1. He is 40.
a. A little old, but he still looks young. I let it slide.
2. Not a Mormon.
a. This has proven to be a big issue in the past, but I’m still intrigued by him.
3. He has two kids. One is 15 and the other is 13. His ex wife is a lesbian and has been living with her partner for the past 5 years.
a. I’m becoming a little less interested with him. Then again, I love kids. 13 and 15 are the ages I’m teaching right now.
4. We do know each other from a cruise we both went on in February called Cayamo. He was with a girlfriend on the cruise, while I was with my mom and sister.
a. See…I didn’t just make up the part about knowing him from somewhere
5. He had been dating said ex-girlfriend for four years and just broke up a month ago. He still talks to ex-girlfriend on the phone almost every day. He describes his ex as “perfect” but claims that he broke up because he felt that he never really got to “date around” after his divorce.
a. When guys say something like that, I immediately replace the words “date around” with “sleep around”.
b. We’ll call this fact the GAME OVER moment in the evening. Thank you for playing.

It's a Miracle

I loved the fact that after I wrote my last blog I was flooded with calls, texts, and emails of friends willing to ship me pain pills. You know you have a true friend when they volunteer to overnight you some hydrocodine. That is what friends are for!

I stayed pretty immobile all weekend. The doctor that lives across the street came back from Italy late Saturday night. I was practically waiting on his doorstep when he got home. He told me to take some anti-inflammatory drugs and start alternating ice and heat packs every few hours. By Sunday afternoon I felt like a new woman. I felt so good that I talked my sister and friend Jody into going to a dessert meet and greet party. I wasn’t dying to go, but I’d been cooped up in the house for days and was going a little stir crazy. I knew I was bored when my biggest event of the whole weekend was when I took enough painkillers to walk around Ross Friday night to browse around.

My sister, Jody and I walked into the dessert party last night and of course I see the guy that broke my rib. I tried not to be noticed, but when you are almost 6 feet tall and the guy is 6’7, it is pretty much impossible. I had been avoiding his calls all weekend and said I was way too sore to move or have company over to the house. Yup, There I was…walking, talking, and wearing makeup. I tried to tell him that I felt miraculously better just hours before due to my doctor’s advice, but I think we both knew what was really going on. Awkward.

Anyway, I’m feeling better and am at work today. I don’t think those things really should go in the same sentence, but oh well.

It's Only a Date Faulker

I know it has been a long time since my last installment. Truthfully, I just haven’t been on any dates to write about. I was talking to Betsy yesterday and informed her that I finally had a date, so I’d hopefully get a good story out of it. I wish I had no story though.

My date seemed nice enough. I met him at a church party this past weekend and he got my number. We were doing the typical dinner date on a Wednesday night. During dinner he spilled his guts about his years of drug addictions and his return to church in the past year. When asked what kinds of drugs he did, he went into detail about all the pain killers, acid, coke, meth, and crack. I’ve never even known someone that did crack before, so this was a whole new world for me. How does someone keep a straight face while eating a salad when their date announces that they did crack for a certain period of time in their life?

After dinner, he said he wanted to show me his remodeled house and give me a chance to meet his dog. It seemed harmless enough. When we got to his house, we talked, shared stories and watched his little mutt do all of her tricks. At one point I got up and my date tried to tickle me. I’m not a fan of being tickled because it makes me spaz out. When he started tickling me, I tried to wrestle him off and wound up putting him in a headlock. He reared up and we both fell backwards on a chair with a metal armrest. It was one of those retro chairs and the armrest was a thick pieces of metal with a 90degree angle on it. He fell on top of me and my back hit the armrest...HARD. I’m not sure what it feels like to be stabbed, but I think I now have a pretty good idea. I had the wind knocked out of me and I lay on the floor mouthing silent screams while tears welled up in my eyes. My date panicked and started asking me if I was okay. When I finally got my breath back, I whispered, “I’m not dead yet, but I’m very badly hurt.” I tried to start moving around and it became very apparent that I had broken a couple of ribs. I consider myself pretty tough; one has to be when you’re as clumsy as I am. I’m not exaggerating when I say that this is the most pain I’ve ever been in in my whole life.

Luckily this is the only time in my entire adult life when I don’t have medical insurance. The new school I work at told me that I’d have to wait two months for the insurance to kick in. As an added bonus, I don't know a single doctor or person that could help me that lives in the area. Sooooo…I had my date bring me home crying. All I could find when I got home was a few aspirin, which would be like putting Neosporin on a broken arm. My recently recovered drug-addict of a date couldn’t even get a hold of a hydrocodine. What kind of drug addict are you when you don’t have at least a few pills lying around the house or a friendly junkie that could hook you up? Anyway, my sister’s friend was able to spot me a few pills and now here I sit, bandaged, grimacing, and telling yet another horrible date story. I’ve called a few doctors, gave them my symptoms, and they all said it was definitely a few broken or cracked ribs. The good thing is that when you wrap your lower torso tightly with an ace bandage to hold the ribs in place, it makes your boobs look huge. I know...I'm such a Pollyanna.

I hate Utah! Honestly, who breaks ribs on a first date?