An Alanis Morissette moment.

Have you ever used the internet as the cyber-stalking tool that it's meant to be in order to find out more about some guy you are interested in? And then, after exhausting all of the major social networks, you managed to find a blog with photos of that person and his family? And you also managed to find that his address and phone number are available for the whole world to see? Then did you feel so incredibly creepy that you swore off re-visiting these resources ever again, because it reminds you of that one time in college when you and some friends did a drive-by the house of a crush and he caught you with your face pressed against the car window? And did you ever swear that you'd never be that pathetic and stalkerish again?

Yeah, me neither.

200th post! Just kidding...

Happy 200th post, everyone! I actually just realized that it was the 200th as I was sitting here trying to brainstorm what to write for this evening. That's pretty impressive, eh, folks?

It's been a pretty terrible week for Leslie and for myself vicariously, so I'm happy to say that I'm spending this lovely Friday evening hanging out with my mommy-licious friends. The majority of these friends are gluten intolerant, and so we partook in some delicious "Super Nachos," gluten-free chocolate cake, and champagne. We spent the majority of our time stalking people on MySpace and Facebook as is socially accepted as a worthwhile activity.

I'm having fun, and I love these girls, but I'm going to miss Leslie like crazy when she moves away. The majority of my friends are married and have kids, and I'm always sort of the odd duck out. Of course I love spending time with them, but it's always something special and indentifiable to have my adventures with Leslie on the weekends.

We don't need to feel responsible to husbands or babies, and we can make spur of the moment plans to go eat crepes, get lost in a corn maze, or freeze our toes off snowshoeing. I love having someone to do those things with, and I feel like I'm losing that. I'm going to pray and pray and pray that she finds a job back in the area, so I can keep having my face to face Leslie time, because I'm surely going to be lost without it.

I'll miss you, come back soon, and I'm so glad we have this blog to stay connected in the meantime.

Updated to include: Wow. That was only the 195th post. I'm kind of feeling let-down now.

Wednesday

Something happened at work today, and it was something that shook me to the very core. I won't go into details, but I was afraid in a way that I am not often afraid. Basically, it led to much of my day being spent filling out paperwork and crying in front of people I don't know. I'm not trying to sound dramatic, I promise, its just not something I feel I should detail on the internet.

As a result, I am scared. Scared to live alone, scared to be at work, scared to do the things in life that I normally do. I never realized before today how completely free I feel most of the time, and how unafraid I am during my daily life. I go running in the dark without a second thought, I leave my door unlocked, and I do things that I probably shouldn't just because I live in a small town and don't think anything can happen.

Today I learned that despite what I may often think, I am probably not immortal. Nothing truly horrible happened, I was just placed in a situation where I felt extremely unsafe and it left me shaking and in tears. Of course, I tried to downplay it, telling people I was fine and making jokes about how I lived in a trailer park so I can handle way worse than this.

Except now I'm afraid of what might happen. I am worried about going for a run by myself, out in the wide open countryside where anything could happen to me. I'm terrified of what I would do if I'm placed in the same situation again--because let's face it, I'm 5'2" and probably couldn't do damage to someone if I tried. I'm feisty, but I doubt I could hold my own against a grown man.

That scares me. I'm not sure what to do about any of this. For the first time I regret that I live alone, or that I don't have anyone to make me feel safe. I honestly never thought that would happen.

So that was my Wednesday, how was yours?

Oh, really now?

I am successful. I graduated college a year early (and paid for it by myself), I have a career, I own my own car, I'm self-sufficient and have been for very many years, I've been stable and on my own for awhile now. Also, I don't take any crap from anyone and know how to take care of myself. Oh, and I have a rockstar dog, but that's just a random sidenote.

So tell me, friends, why is it that when people are referring to me and a friend who happens to be married, that friend is "closer to having a life" than I am? Just because I don't have a man doesn't mean I don't have a life! I get so irritated by stuff like that. That seems to be all that people focus on lately--the fact that I'm STILL single.

I just wanted to share. Since January's theme is change, can I change the fact that people see me as irresponsible just cause I'm by myself? Pretty please?

I'm going to go have casual sex with strangers now...suck on THAT, non-single people!!!

I'm so old.

On Saturday I will be turning 24. When I was younger I always imagined I would be married by the time I hit my mid-20s. I was such a silly child… Being single rocks. I wish the 10-year-old Leslie knew that.

Anyway, I have just discovered that this week is Unmarried and Single Americans Week! Seriously, September 21 through September 27, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.

Check that out! According to their press release 54 percent of women 18 and older are single. I have so many fellow singletons! Here I thought I was the only one.

I think being single gives me a sense of accomplishment that I would be lacking otherwise. When I have a problem, I deal with it. Sure I have family and friends to lean on, but for the most part, I have myself. I’m okay with that. The bitter and cynical side of me tends to think that I can only rely on myself because other people will just disappoint you. But in the grand scheme of things, is it so bad to know that at least I am capable of taking care of myself?

I also tend to think that being single has made me a stronger woman. I know plenty of women who rely on their boyfriends or husbands to do certain things for them—fixing cars, moving heavy objects, opening jars, etc, etc, etc. Sure, there are exceptions to that rule. I would be doing some serious stereotyping if I thought otherwise. But in my case I know that if I don’t do something myself, it won’t get done. And I’m okay with that.

I’m at a very liberated point in my life right now. And I’m not just saying that because I mowed the lawn last night and decided it was okay not to rake afterward (it is cold as balls outside! The first day of fall arrived with a vengeance). What I mean is, I have a freedom in my life that attached people do not have. If I want to pick up and move, I can. If I want to stay in my pajamas all weekend and do nothing, I can (but probably won’t cause I get restless when I try to do that). If I want to take a random weekend getaway to Vegas and marry a stranger, I can. The only thing holding me down is the dog, and she’s a rock star, so really she isn’t a burden.

In addition to this lovely celebration of singlehood, it has also been pointed out to me that the local Oktoberfest celebration is on my birthday. The universe totally loves me!

Titles are so bothersome.

I do not often have moments when I wish I wasn’t single. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Often I’ll be hearing about a friend’s boyfriend problems and think to myself, “My life is so uncomplicated as a single person.” I only have myself to worry about, and that’s how I like it. And that is not just because I am very, very bitter and cynical.

Last week, however, when I had 101 degree fever accompanied with chills and feelings of impending death (completely with a sensation that my head would soon fall off) I really wished I didn’t live alone so that I could send someone to go get me soup and something to shoot myself with. Sadly, I haven’t trained the dog to do such things. We’re working on it. When you’re not single does it mean you have someone to get you soup? So far that’s the only benefit I’m seeing. Maybe I just need a roommate. Or more friends who live close by.

Anyway, my half marathon training has been put slightly on hold because of the brief adventure into the world of antibiotics and mass amounts of Kleenex. But I plan to be back in fighting shape as of tomorrow. The half marathon training plans I found on Google still seem to think I can manage it in six weeks, so if they say so I suppose it must be true. Google does know everything, right? I’ll be slowly increasing my long runs from 7 miles (where I’m at now) to 11 miles by the time the half marathon rolls around, and training about 14 miles a week besides that. Really that’s what I’m doing now anyway, so as long as I keep going I should be in good shape. Also, the whole sickness thing better remove itself from my body ASAP. I have no patience for illness.

As a result of this lovely illness, I called in sick for only the second time in over two years at my current job. It led to me only working two days last week! Crazy. I watched a lot of daytime television in a feverish state and forced the dog to cuddle with me (she needs her alone time, usually, but I told her that doesn’t apply when I’m dying. Cause I talk to my dog).

Today I was sitting in my office when one of the local “crack heads” came in. I refer to him as a crack head because A) I’m pretty sure he literally is on crack and B) it just seems like a good descriptor. He comes in pretty frequently to visit with my boss, and he also annoys me to no end. I wish he would just go away. Today we had a lovely conversation when he chose to sit in my section of the office and drink coffee.

CrackHead: Do you have any sugar?
Me: No, we used it all and no one ever bought more.
CH: (looking at me like I was crazy) You don’t use sugar?
Me: Nope.
CH: (looking at me like I was crazy and a liar) You don’t eat sweets?
Me: Not usually.
CH: What is your diet like then?
Me: Um, lots of fruits and veggies… (wondering to myself why I was even answering this question)
CH: Well what do you do besides sit at the computer all day? All I ever see you do is run that machine!
Me: (starting to ignore him and thinking to myself, “Well, that is part of my job…”)

This all made me start to think that curling into a ball of sickness and misery on my couch and watching a lot of “Rachel Ray” is preferable to my office at times. How on earth do I end up attracting the crazies that think its okay to judge me and question my diet and exercise habits? Seriously, I do. Just cause I’m overweight is it impossible to believe that I don’t eat much sugar?

And so what if I do eat sugar? It’s my body. I don’t judge him for ingesting copious amounts of crack, do I?

Just remember kids, crack is whack. Nothing rhymes with sugar in that way, now does it?

This is why I'm still single

(at a work function)

Me: Do you have a list of blah blah blah?

Good-looking man: Oh, I thought you were going to ask for my phone number...

Me: Haha, no. Do you have a list?

Good-looking man: Um, yeah.

(over an hour later)
Me, to myself: Holy crap, was that flirting?!?!?!

Yeah. I'm quick.

How the heck am I supposed to tell if men are flirting with me or just being weird? And furthermore, why do I always think of witty things to say an hour later?