Now What?

Did I really only post the “Exit Biff” blog just three days ago? It’s funny how time can feel so much longer. I’ve packed a lot into this week with kiddos, teaching, narrating, hanging out with girlfriends and watching Dexter. All very important things. I haven't really had a lot of time to question "Now what?" since ending it with Biff. I've just been doing as much as possible, and that seems to be working.

On Wednesday I went to the Viceroy for kicking back with some professional, lovely women. We just wanted to have a couple of drinks, relax and chat. It’s a little low-key networking that we’re doing, because (let’s face it) it’s hard being a working woman especially in a creative field. There are big mosquitoes out there and they will bite you. And by mosquitoes I mean life. Life is hard, and it’s nice to know that you’re not struggling out there alone.

We all had different professions and fields, and even different romantic statuses: One of us was happily  married, one single but dating, two of us divorced with kids and in our late thirties, and one divorced no kids in early thirties. But we could still connect.

We talked about aging, how you think you’ll never accept having people help you, but you eventually do. We all have parents who are getting older and you kind of have to step up and take care of them. Then I asked the question of when, exactly, do you cross over in that land of aging and buy a pair of gigantic granny panties because they look so comfortable? (I’d been eyeing them at Kohl’s, circling them in contemplation. I’m single now so I don’t really need the lacy boy shorts, I could, you know, go for it. I could wear gigantic underwear that reaches to my boobs and NO ONE WOULD KNOW.)

Then we talked about dating. Of course we talked about dating. How it’s hard, and complicated and funny. I’m talking to so many great single women in their thirties and older and there’s a refrain happening “I know great guys are out there, I believe that, I just have no idea where to meet them.” We don’t want to go online. We don’t want to meet them in the bar. And checking them out in the grocery store can prove very awkward especially if their wife is standing next to them. (I won’t say if this is from experience or not.)

I wish I could throw an event for meeting singles and divorcees, or divorced-ed. And not single twenty-somethings. That’s not what we want. We want nice, thirty-to-fifty something guys who might have kids. Guys who are stable and loving and are willing to give love a second or even a third chance. I don’t know how to make this event happen, but if I did, there would be wine and appetizers, and stupid dating prompts on cards. I don’t think there would be Twister though, I mean, sheesh, it’s not a birthday party.

Then on my second drink I confessed that I wanted to write a new series of romance novels. I’d make them really realistic. The ladies helped me brainstorm. I’m going to call it “Tepid Connections” and go against every romance cliché. In my realistic romance, the muscular heroine meets a petite and slender hero. They’ve been set up by coworkers. Neither one of them wants to be there, and it’s horribly awkward, but they figure “Hey, it’s dinner”. And they hang out and it’s okay. And then when they make love, there are no fireworks or heaving bodies or glistening torsos. The slender, petite hero says “Do you feel that?” and the muscular heroine says “Uhhh…I think so.” Then they eat cheesecake.


Might want to spend some more time brainstorming.

I don’t really have a point with any of this except to say a big thank you to my friends, both men and women. I know creative, quirky wonderful people and I wish I had some magic dust (that wasn’t an illegal substance) that I could sprinkle over all of us that would make life easier and love more permanent.

Then again, there’s something really beautiful about the complexity of life and heartbreak and struggle. It makes sitting back with a group of friends that much more of a cherished moment.

And I’m still thinking of that party idea.