The gentleman who bought my lunch PART 2

Previous chapter can be found here.

Via

The rest of the family followed our lead and skipped dessert for a walk on the beach at sunset.  We walked to the edge of the water and let the warm summer waves ripple at our feet.  Our heels sunk in as the waves trickled in during low tide.  Groups of family members and friends started coupling off and I found myself alone with my mere thoughts watching the sun set over the Pacific, and I yearned for something which had been impossible all my years prior.   Younger cousins coupled off with their respective spouses, my brother and sister-in-law dipped their daughter's feet into the water and my parents took a seat back on shore in the sand holding hands.

Even surrounded by my family and a few close friends, I never felt more alone.  In a group of twelve plus people, everyone had found their forever love, and I was still dangling with the torment from days prior.  Who was this gentleman who randomly insisted he purchase my lunch?  Who was the man who intrigued me in conversation at the corporate cafeteria?  Why had he asked me out and minutes later evaporated out of my life? 

The night was gorgeous and the sun blanketed us with its bountiful colors as it began to set over the edges of the water.  Why was I feeling so empty when I was surrounded by the people who love unconditionally?  Why was I standing at the edges of earth alone...again? Why was I complaining in my own mind when all I needed to do was look around me and see I had everything I ever needed?  Why couldn't I find time to thank God for his blessing instead of criticize myself for reasons of my perpetual solitude?  And yet, I couldn't shake a sixth sense I had about the mysterious gentleman.  As much as I tried to bury his short memory into deep compartments in my mind, thoughts of him were present and proactive. 

I couldn't help but think karma was obviously tormenting me for great disservices and angst I must have caused people year prior.  I kept recounting mistakes I had made as a child, a teenager, a college student, a young aspiring career-minded adult.   Nothing seemed to add up as to why I couldn't find my forever love.  Mistakes in my career?  In my personal relationships with friends?  With strangers? And so, I kept reasoning with myself that the evils of the universe have it out for me and my perpetual singledom is something I must give in to.

All of the sudden the waves began to roll in a little harder.  The current seemed to increase in strength and something seemed off.  The sea was changing right before us and we all stood there in silence as if we were watching something of the paranormal.

TO BE CONTINUED...

The gentleman who bought my lunch PART 1

 Via

At first I was taken back by the gentleman who offered to buy my lunch just as I handed the cashier a ten dollar bill.  He caught me off guard as I was not expecting someone behind me in line as it was quickly approaching 2:00 and I realized I was taking a late lunch break and the cafeteria was sparse with people.  His first words weren't to me but rather to the cashier just to my left, and he spoke over my shoulder offering to purchase my chicken salad and fruit plate.  My second reaction was flustered, and I assumed this gentleman expected something of me in return.  I was not willing to have to owe something to him, and while I appreciated his gesture, I immediately assumed there was an ultimatum that came along with his offer.

Turns out he did want something from me.  He wanted to join me at a near table to converse.  I gave another quick glance and determined he appeared rather harmless and obliged in conversation.  He wasn't tall for a man, but merely someone of my own height, had a gorgeous smile, full head of dusty brown hair and dressed casually.  His eyes were piercing blue and offered a genuine sense of ease about them.  He was attractive, but not someone I considered to be my type.  He had a boy-next-door quality about him and a gentleness in his voice.  

He began the conversation stating he had seen me a few times in the food court during lunch breaks and had finally mustered the courage to introduce himself to me.  He had noticed me well before I had ever stopped to notice him.  His words were encouraging and emphatic.  He had a way about boosting my confidence knowing he spotted me first and, in a sense, I had intrigued him from afar.

I continued conversational banter with him yet I felt a flutter of uneasiness burning inside me. Was I physically attracted to him?  Was he my type?  Did he expect a one-night stand?  What was his motive?

As lunch conversation progressed the pangs of weariness subsided.  He had a nice quality about him, yet not something I could pin point.  He was pleasant, he smiled, he urged me to talk, he was inquisitive, he was gentle.  I found myself letting the barriers of defense begin to unlock one by one.  As I checked my watch in efforts not to be late back to the office he grabbed my hand and his eyes drew me in as he asked to see me again and then, just like that, he walked away.  As quickly as he appeared behind me at the cashier counter, he vanished into oblivion leaving me seated at a table top meant for two down to an empty chair staring back at me. 

He left me in a daze and my mind stunted.  We never exchanged phone numbers thus leaving the chances of meeting up difficult to arrange.  It appeared this was just another deflated moment that could be chalked up and filed away into my unlucky chronicles of my dating sagas.  The luck that follows me - or visceral bullets continuously aiming right into my heart where wounds are still visible from past failed relationships.  I shyly collected myself and went about my business cleaning off my tray, grabbing my purse and slowly making my way back to my new office now with a burning pit growing inside my stomach.

Two days went by and the relentless thoughts of self doubt and anger presented themselves in a play continual loop in my mind.  He had offered out a piece of him and within seconds retreated and  evaporated.  I opted to dismiss him and move forward as if I had never met him until a family dinner on Thursday evening.  I was conversing with a friend of the family in the midst of supper on the beach.  We decided to skip dessert and instead take a walk down to the water's edge before the sun had fully set.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Via

Die-ting

No flies on me.

No pulling the wool over my eyes.

I am no sandwich short of a picnic.

The first three letters of D-I-E-T = DIE.

Wow.

Suck that in for a minute.

Suck that in like I suck in my FUPA every time I see a hot guy on my daily runs on the neighborhood trail.

DIE-T.

DIE.

So, in my efforts to be more conscious of what I eat, I've turned to eating foods that are not processed, save for the occasional pita chips.

Here's my breakdown of foods that just put me over the edge.  And by edge I mean I would have rather eaten cardboard and bologna sandwiches.  The last time I ate a bologna sammie I was say, I don't know, 8?  

And why is bologna spelled with the word log in it.

Shouldn't it be balonee?

Back to the foods that aren't good for my die-t.

 Not quite a cracker.  Not quite a chip.

Not quite delicious either.

No dip can help with this nonsensical texture in your mouth.

Moving on.

Artichoke dip

Oh, what a blessing this is.  
Yummy, creamy and heavenly.
If heaven were made up of foods, this would be my go to as soon as I stumbled through the gates of St. Peter.

Save for the mayonaise, the cream, the cheese it's just not part of my daily caloric intake any more.
It goes right to my muffin top.

Speaking of muffins.
I am tired of carrying mine around.

Via

Out with the Fupa and in with the washboard.

Who dat?

I'm not from Naw'Leans and I can't stand the term, WHO DAT, but I couldn't think of a better entry title.  Needless, I figured for the 3 new readers I've picked up in the last 3 months, it would be helpful to refresh you on who I be...

Where do I start?  

 Maybe with those derogatory voices in my head? Or with my continual quest for better eyelashes and eyebrows?  Or perhaps, my self-diagnosed ADD?  Hey did you see that purple elephant walking down the street?  Needless, I’m just a gal documenting the crazed happenings in my life every once in a while.

I’m a perpetual singleton trying to earn a buck working hard for the money raising three incredibly gas-infested canines.  Two of which are rescue dogs and the third is the sweetest thing since Weight Watchers came out with their new dolce de leche flavor ice cream bars.  But is it really ice cream?  Who cares, in the words of Dora the Explorer, that shiz is delicioso.

 

I talk about hot guys on the treadmill next to me at the gym.  I talk about which toilet paper I use and which I don't.  I talk about dingle-berries upon necessity with said toilet paper brands.  If you want to make fun of me, get in line.  
 

I’m also on this running mission.  Not sure if I am running from the voices in my head, the fear of extra tubage around my waist as I age closer to 40 or to simply try and exceed Usain Bolt’s record of being the fastest man on Earth.  Needless, I’ve been an avid runner since, oh February of this year.  Okay, so I got a late start in life.  But until my knees blow out and my ankles stop being cankles, I’ll continue to run with the good Lord willing and as long as Gatorade 2 Series is still in mass production.

I work in advertising as TV commercial producer.  You can stop foaming at the mouth right now.  It’s not glamorous, and I haven’t yet met Don Draper.  I don’t take 2-hour martini lunches and I surely don’t get free tickets to the VMAs or Ellen.  But if you’d like to send me to one of those shows, please feel free to call me immediately.  Do not pass GO.   Just stop right now and give me a shout.

Perhaps my most important defining quality is my litany of horrible dating debacles.  I’m not proud of them, but my friends keep telling me that my short stories could one day end up on the New York Times Best Sellers List.  I’ve kissed my fair share of frogs and thus far they are deeming to be disgusting amphibians with slime-infested antics.  As you can imagine, I’m still waiting on my Prince Charming.  He’s out there.  I just know it.  Or so the voices in my head tell me so.

 Welcome in,

- American Bridget

P.S. Once in a blue moon I'll bore you to death with stories of my childhood which wasn't tragic unless you think that wearing fake Keds and not having Esprit brand clothes in the 80s is considered tragic and then, well yeah, perhaps my childhood was tragic.  Oh, and you know what else was tragic?  At 16, this is how I learned to drive.  

Baller.  Holla.

Where my wine goes

I'm not talking about my whine.  

Because ya'll, I can shove it and leave that for the birds.

Or can I?

I am talking about my wine.

Where does it go?

Stored in my vintage wine rack?

In the fridge for cooling before uncorking?

Nope.

It goes to my thighs.

My ass.

My waist.

Boy does it.

Even with all the running I've been doing.

The tubage of wine fat won't freaking go away.

The fine commentary on Yahoo! this morning just depressed me beyond belief.

I mean, we all know wine is loaded with sugar.

But, the French drink it and swear it's good for their health.

Doesn't red wine help with cardiovascular diseases?

Can I get an Amen for antioxidants?

Brother, please!

But to compare my beloved Blood of Christ to sugar donut holes.

Well, that just about put me over the top.

So now I'm whining.

And by the way, I haven't had a donut in effing YEARS.

Years people.

I gave that shit up like a whore gave up her virginity.

 

 I am American Bridget and I suppose in this entry I am whining about wine.  Go figure.

I have a baby

I went and got myself a baby.

I got the call on Friday after work.

So I flew out at 7AM on Saturday morning.

Look at her.

Natalie.

She’s perfect in every single way.

Well, OK, she’s not mine per se.   

Well, she kind of is, but it’s not like I spent 10 months perfecting her.   

My sister-in-law did.   

And I’d say she did a damn good job.   

Of course, my brother helped.   A little.

But I did go get me a baby this weekend.

A precious new baby niece.

And I couldn’t be a prouder aunt.

Or prouder of my bother and sister-in-law.

She’s the most innocent and loved person.

And she melts me.

And I love her to the moon and back.

I can’t wait to read books to her.

To change more diapers.

To take her on walks.

And to the zoo.

And shopping.

And on girl dates.

And host sleepovers with her.

And to teach her about manners.

And about giving back.

And why dogs are your best friends.

And about how wonderful her parents are.

I love you Lil Miss Natalie    

I love you to the moon and back a thousand times over.

Love,

Aunt Ry