Good Lookin Dudes

Where's this? You might find yourself asking. Certainly NOT South Dakota, you might be adding. Neums must have road-tripped to Steamboat Springs again. Maybe she's back in Lander, WY.

Believe it or not, girls, this wasn't Colorado. This was in South Dakota last night. Not only that, but in the Black Hills. JJ and I found this little joint, this pocket of sheer heaven where there's a plentitude of good looking dudes and not enough good looking chicks to go around.

But that can't be in the Black Hills, you might argue. It can't be because there are NO good lookin' dudes in the Black Hills.

I know. I know. But there was, in spades.

Signs You've Run Into Intelligent Good Lookin' Dudes:

1. A suprising scent called "Good Hygeine" is in the air mixed with nice quality men's cologne. I'd forgotten what "men's cologne" was until the owner, a tall drink of drink of water, walked up to me and actually put his hand on my back.

"Well, hello there," he said. My mouth had fallen open and flies were copiously buzzing in and out of my mouth.

"Uh, (stammer) hi," I offered lamely, suddenly weak in the knees. Then a minute later as he walked off, "JJ, did you see that good lookin' dude? WTF?" I hissed in shock.

"Shaddup. Sit down, you're blocking my view of Eddie Vedder."

"Oh, sorry."

2. The lack of baseball caps. Good lookin' dudes don't wear 'em. That's a fact. And get this, we saw . . . . . . . .

3. Stylish hairdoo's!! Yes, check out that MANE of hair on the Eddie Vedder dude! And there was another man with shoulder-length hair running sound for the chick playing the guitar. JJ and I sat and drooled into our drinks.

4. Stylish clothing. Yes, you heard that right. Not a single "Shirt Tucker" in the whole crowd and only 3 caps. No polo shirts, no Wranglers, just hip, stylish clothing and retro-grunge post-punk.

5. Intelligent conversation--Not a single fucking TV in the place, so no nonsense about sports. More like, "Have you tried that organic cheese over there?" or "We've got a bicycle-driven ice-cream maker out back. Wanna see? Going green, baby!"

I'm sorry, but I can't tell you where this FOUNTAIN, this mother-lode, this New El Dorado is. I don't need a damned stampede of good looking women, desperate to get the fuck out of Rapid's seedy selection. LOL. Sorry.

I Love a Man in Uniform

Just when you least expect it, God steps in and smiles. Hope--it's a 4-lettered word full of promise.

After all the BS I've endured the past two years, Cactus Man, The Disappearing Man, promises never kept, being stood up, etc. some "Hope" is rather nice.

The next thing you know there's a new man headed out west, headed to the Dakotas, just back from Afghanistan.

Maybe he's younger than you.
Maybe he's dashing.
Maybe he finds you interesting.

Maybe he listens to you instead of talking all the time because just maybe he finds your wisdom of value. Maybe he's not overly charming because he's REAL (not fake, nor too good to be true). He's not a committment phobe--been married and back. He's not a Drama King. In fact, it appears he's got the quiet strength and modesty of say, Bill Hickock. But he's lived in more countries than most people dream, been shot at and shot men in the line of duty and honor.

What is he?

A military man.

I've run into some new qualities I've not encountered before: Ambition, Courage, Integrity. No man interested me me before has displayed this, so I was quite taken back when he said, "A man's only as good as his word. That's how I roll. If I make you a promise and don't come through? You better get to the hospital, because near-death is the only way I don't keep my word. It's all about integrity, Natalie."

"What?" I almost dropped the phone. "What did you say?"

"Integrity. I keep my word. I don't let my men down, my kids, my country or my woman." I blinked, quite shocked at this sort of talk. Of course, me being me, and having been tricked quite a bit, I'll lie low and see if it's just talk--cause my experience with men, is most of them's all talk and no walk.

And this ambition thing. What's that all about? He's already bought 160 of the most gorgeous acres of land I've ever seen in New Mexico. They could film westerns there. He has mesas, mountains. His plan? To live "off-the-grid" and retire completely. To sort of slip back in time if you will, to maybe 1878. He needs a smart, strong woman who can shoot a gun, cook over a fire, garden, can vegetables, run an orchard. For he's going to live there for good in 10 years when he retires.

If anything, I'm interested in becoming friends. I'd like to learn something good from him. Maybe he'll show me this "Integrity" thing I've been yearning.

Know a lady who loves the outdoors, knows her way around a gun, can cook and might want to help him out?

Absolution or Forgiveness

Well, what's new with Invisible Man?

He wrote finally, a long, tender, apologetic e-mail but two lines really stood out:

1. "I have nothing to give right now," (he's in a deep funk of clinical depression, which he admits, but my friends all think he has bipolar, too)
and
2. "I remain your friend and more."

OK, now is this just me, but does #1 sound a bit like the "It's not you, it's me" variety (the classic dump line)? OK, let's say it is. Then why even bother to write #2?

If your attempt is to pull away, distance, or dump someone, why #2? Is it the person wants to keep the idea open of you (while not having to commit either way?). Or is it the person is confused? Working on his issues? My friends all agree that unlike Cactus Man, Invisible Man is sincere. They say he probably MEANS "I remain your friend and more" but due to his current mental illness and quasi-break down, really "and more" or hell, even being a friend is impossible. I mean, we haven't talked on the phone since Sept. 6th. I've not seen him in person since Aug. 21st. Is that what you do when you're "friends"? You don't talk or see each other? You tell the person that you "Just can't talk on the phone" because you're so down in the dumps you can't get off the couch? Wow, that sounds like a really cool friendship.

Forgiveness vs. Absolution

Forgivness means--I am so sorry for you that I hurt you.
Absolution means--I want to be forgiven for my sake. I want to appear the good guy, so can you forgive me so I can look like the "good guy" again?

Which does he want? Forgiveness or Absolution? I don't give out absolution. If a guy wants that, join a church.

Needless to say, I am back on the dating site. But this time there's a disclaimer added: 1. "If you have mental illness (untreated depression, bi-polar), please pass me by. I'm sure you're nice, but let's not waste each others' time. You should be working on your "issues" not looking for someone to date.

Disclaimer: This isn't to say all people with mental illness are not worthy of love or are fuckups. This is to say they need to work on their issues FIRST, find meds/therapy that work, THEN go looking for love. And they need to not be selfish and drag others down into their shithole of depression or lie about their issues when they're in a "temporary up swing." Which is EXACTLY what Invisible Man did--selfish. Issues first. Love second.

Forgiveness

How about a cup of truth and maybe an ounce of forgiveness?

Invisible Man wrote me a long, nice, explanatory email, hoping I will still be his friend. On one hand, I feel like a cad. But on the other hand, I'm very cautious.

It's tough. When do you know when to forgive? And if you forgive, can you forget?

I forgave Cactus Man overandoverandoverandoverandover. UNTIL, I realized it was just a game with him.

But like T. says, "I.M. isn't Cactus Man."

That's a tough, one too. To let go. I guess I still have relationship-P.T.S.D left over from Cactus Man. Sigh.

Comittment Phobic Men and Drama Kings--Run Away, Women!

I'm noticing that the Invisible Man really is milking this "Depression" issue. He got canned from his job this fall, too. But as my friend, JJ, noted, "Didn't he ALREADY know when he took the job that they'd can him in the fall? If so, why's he making such a big deal?"

It's because he's a Drama King (in addition to a commitment phobe and playing the "I've got depression, so NOTHING is my fault" card).

A DRAMA KING.

I never knew, until I met the Invisible Man, that there was such a thing as a Drama King. Here's the warning signs if you have a Drama King in your life.

How to Spot a Drama King:

1. Every single story turns into a near-calamity, with impending death, just a breath away. And no humor is used (though you might think that it's funny). The Drama King thinks whatever story he's spinning is heart-attack-serious. He wants every drop of your attention. And you should answer him with remarks such as "No way. You POOR thing." Or "Gosh, life is just so unfair to you. Let me make you an omelet." Just going to the grocery becomes a near-death event to a Drama King. "OMG! I almost got killed in the parking lot at the grocery store. This cat ran out in front of me, and I had to dodge an empty shopping cart and put on the brakes. I almost died. OMG!" Warning: do not laugh at the Drama King's serious story or you will have to endure a "Hissy Fit." See #3

2. Topper Syndrome: Anything you have to say is a moot point because the Drama King has had it, far, far, far worse than you. He MUST top every one of your stories, and preferably, he'll just interrupt your story with his anyway. After all, his story is MUCH more important (Dramatic) than yours.
Example:
You: Man, I'm not feeling good. I have a 104 degree temperature. I think I'll call the doc."
Drama King: Sick?! You want to talk about sick? I drove from Custer all the way to Deadwood in the pouring rain on my motorcycle. I got so cold I started violently shaking, shaking so badly the manager came to my room, asking if I was OK. My temperature was 116, and then . . ."

3. Hissy Fit: If you do not show enough empathy for him while he's in the middle of a Drama Tale, he will throw a hissy fit.

Ex. You: So you didn't really have a near-death experience in the parking lot. A cat just ran out in front of you, right?
Drama King: OMG. You never listen to a thing I say. I tell you I almost DIED. I ALMOST DIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Who's Sorry Now? I am.

Well, the Invisible Man is claiming Major Depression these days. And I'm sorry I've ever met this guy. He's going to try some new meds. He's really into the "Poor Me" song and dance. Depression defines him, the way a normal person's new Sunday suit defines them. He wears it with happiness (kind of odd since he's allegedly got depression). And he's giving the illness a bad name.

If you're clinically depressed, does that mean you treat people like assholes? Oh, yes, I guess it does! Cactus Man had depression, too. But Cactus Man was naturally an asshole. Just an asshole. He never blamed his depression as the cause of being an asshole. He was proud to be one.

But Invisible Man has taken that up 4 notches. Apparently, you can be "depressed" and be not only an asshole, but an obnoxious asshole who's self-absorbed.

Now, in all my fantastically NOT boring dating experiences, I've never met anyone who was THIS "self-absorbed." Let me you give some of the highlights.

How to be a Self-absorbed Asshole:

1. Always Pull "The Poor Me Gag--"Frame anything anyone tells you that might be critical with "But you can't understand what I'm going through." Use this line whenever you want free reign over being in touch with your inner-asshole.

2. Only talk about yourself-- Who cares if your friends are having any issues or a hard time, right? After all, aren't you the most fascinating person you've ever known? If given hell about this, pull #1 (re-read above).

3. Break Promises-- Remember to only keep your word for YOURSELF. That's the important thing. Don't let pointless things like say "other people's feelings/needs" stand in your way. It really is ALL about you. So make promises like, "Sure, I'll help you put on that garage door," and then just never show up. If pressed, use tactic #1 or #2 or a combo.

4. Get Indignant When Someone Tries to Hold You Responsible--say things in your email like, "You'll get no where with me if you have that kind of tone. You should know this by now." Revel in your indignancy. Remember your mantra: "It's all about me."

Practice these 4 simple rules and you too, can be a Depressive Indignant Asshole.

Disclaimer: This isn't to say all/any people with Depression are assholes, just one's who were probably already assholes anyway, illness or not.

Camp Tales: XIIII Welcome To Hillbilly Land

Did you know you could inadvertantly "Day Camp" in Hillbilly Land?

So What's Hillbilly Land?

The "Wait, Wait, Don't Shoot me" Camp Tale was an example set in Nebraska.

But the arresting thing, is that Hillbilly Land can be anywhere, unbeknownst to you. SO YOU TOO could be living in Hillbilly Land and not even know it.

Even in the Black Hills--boo!

Let me go back a few years to when I first moved here with my ex.

Back when we moved here, all we knew was that the Black Hills, part of the northern mountains of the Rockies, was BEAUTIFUL. Yet, we didn't know anyone here, but you have to start somewhere when it comes to making new friends, so what do you do? You get to know your neighbors in your triplex, right? Note: these were the first "locals" we met.

You ask them to go on a "Day Camp" with you to Steamboat Mountain park for a cook out. But here's the hitch.

1. You don't know them at all.
2. You don't really know the area you're living in because you just moved here. Maybe you're orginally from a much more cosmopolitan area. And you're shy, a touch embarrassed.

Signs You're Now Living in Hillbilly Land:

1. Dirty, strange, baseball caps on all men, and most women with the bill gently curved into a half arc. Caps are worn on all days, even overcast, and caps are worn indoors. The caps have logos and mottos like "NASCAR," "Broncos," "Dekalb: Feed-n-Seed," "Cabellas," or "I think the Teaparty is Neat!"
2. Weirdly dirty fingernails on people who haven't begun to start camping.
3. Alarmingly old jeans (Wranglers or 80's stone washed, Mom-Jeans that come up to the neck, white velcro closure tennis shoes.


It went like this.

"So we'd like to know if you'd like to go picnic with us."

"OK."

"Yeah, just bring something you'd like to eat."

(barely discernible grunt)

So we met them at the agreed-upon remote spot.

"Here," said the neighbor's boyfriend, thrusting me a bag of fried pork rinds that were already opened. I have never seen a bag of pork rinds before, (have you?). FYI: they look like are bloated potato chips with a brown skid mark going down the middle (I don't want to know what the brown mark is).

"Wow, cool," I say and hand the bag to my boyfriend. "Do you want to get the coals going?" I ask our new neighbor. Everyone knows how to start a BBQ, right?

He brought a bag of charcoal and poured about half of a twenty pound bag into the tiny camp grate. He tried match after match. "I cain't get it goin' 'cause it's windy." My boyfriend's face twitches, but he says nothing.

Then a more alarming thing happens. The neighbor goes to his car and gets a can of either gasoline or kerosene (at this point, what does it matter?)

Woosh, goes the flame. Not only do his cuffs of his shirt get singed, but so do his eyebrows, which apparently he finds rather amusing.

OK, you can imagine how the burgers turned out. My BF, dumped his in the trash when no one was looking.

Then came the next part.

"Hey, I brought some dip I made," I said, pushing the pork rinds aside. "It'll be good with these potato chips," I added. Because, who in their right mind eats hog skid marks?

Then, they proceeded to "double dip." Double dipping is to dip your chip into the dip, slobber and eat half of it, then stick the dirty, saliva-covered chip, back into the dip.

Need I say we cut the "Day camp" with the NEW NEIGHBORS short and got a pizza on the way home?

There's more. But it's too disgusting to share. So know this. It ain't over til the fat lady sings, and just when you think you've seen a REAL hillbilly, you can always suprise your
self.