Dating. Exactly as awful as I figured it would be.

I have not blogged in a bit, because I have been busy, well, dating. “Dating” is actually a very loose term.  I went on two dates.  It is a tie on which one was worse. Let us recap, shall we.

I “met” both of these kind gentlemen online (obvi).  On paper, they seemed pretty darn great and I mean, when it was all said and done, they both had photos up that were only like, ehhh, 5-7 years old. Sidebar, do you bet that right now they are bitching to their buddies, like “Yea, on paper she looked fucking normal.  Not. So. Much.”

Date #1 background (on paper): Him.  Doctor.  Lives in Boston.  Likes dogs.  Divorced. No kids.  OK, can I please wake up to the fucking red flags?  I can never, ever go on a date with someone who has not had kids… Why? Because people who have never had kids don’t understand that they LITERALLY suck the life out of you.  Literally.  they are the most important thing in your life. Moving on. We decide to meet for a drink at a local(ish) bar.  Telling you, fucking ish gets me again.   I notice him right away from his gigantic bald shiny head profile picture.   We do the standard “Oh, you find this place ok, yea, parking sure is great, huh?” greetings as I sit down.   The lovely bartender asks me my favorite question in the world “Can I get you a drink?” and says to date #1 “Would you like another Dewar’s on the rocks?”  Oh, ok, so I am on a date with my grandmother.  We chit chat a bit and it is fine, except that it is not, that is a total fucking lie….. I get along with him, well, I guess, I get along with him the same way I get along with my girlfriends, or my best gay friend (who, the clock is fucking ticking on a ridiculous bet we made that if we were both single at 40 we had to get married.  Who’s laughing now. Right, neither of us).  When he all of the sudden yells, (legit, yells):  “Giiiiiirrrrrrlllll, I am ob-sessy with those shoes.  What size?”

Oh my god.  I mean, yes, I am rocking some awesome shoes.  But yes, he is also gay.  Totally gay. I am out, on a date, with a bald gay man who is now THREE Dewar’s on the rocks in. I am trying to hide the shock on my face, but I imagine it looked something like this.  Only less orange and hopefully at least a teenie bit more feminine.

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Once I get over my initial shock, I decide to just have a nice date, while, he, decides to have two more Dewar’s.  We chat, and by “chat” I mean “he slurs about his dog for three straight hours.” Overall, I think that one went pretty well! And that there could be a real strong future for us!

So, at this point, I pick my sorry ass up, brush it off, and agree to meet date #2.  Because, I am an idiot.

Date #2 background (on paper): Him. Sales. Lives one town over. Likes dogs. Divorced.  Two kids.  OK, ok, this could be good, right???  No. No. At the FIRST second he suggested the date location, I should have been like “Yea, peace out.”  He suggests that we go to this nice bar in Salem, MA.  Ok, before you get all “Jesus Princess Nara, what are you looking for?”  I remind you that Salem is the literal mecca for adults to dress up like whatever the fuck it is they want for an ENTIRE month and roam the streets of said, Salem, Ma.  Oh, AND, take into account, there was a big “food truck” festival too. So, when D#2 makes the suggestion, I text something back like “You don’t think it will be crowded?”  Him “Nahhh.”  Fast forward to a text I sent him on date day:  “I have been driving around looking for a parking spot for 53 minutes.  This was really a bad idea.”  So you can imagine how fucking cheery I am at this stage of the game….. He texts back “Yea, I DIDN’T THINK IT WOULD BE CROWDED AT ALL” and I was like “because you clearly have never left the house before.  Ever. You GD troll.”  “Yea, I did.” He asks if I want to go to the “Tiki bar” in Swampscott.  I am racking my brain trying to figure out what he is talking about, when I drive by this, and realize “this” is “Tiki.” Which, coincidentally enough, is also the place you go to when you are 16 years old and craving a scorpion bowl.

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OK, be positive Nara.  I text him that I will head into the “Tiki bar” and he can meet me there.  I grab a seat at a booth, because the bar was full with 90 year old women drinking Dewar’s and playing Keno, and this one guy who kept telling me he thought I smelled good.  Next up, I need a drink. Clearly, I text him to ask what he wants “Ask if they have Harpoon.”  I ask.  I get this.

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I say “Just give me one of those.” Pointing to some bottle of beer.  Then, I ask what they have for white wine.  She doesn’t know, but kindly just hands me this.   Honest to fucking god, worst best date ever so far.

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D#2 shows up, and it is weird. I have no idea why, but it is…. We sit and joke about our drinks for about 11 seconds when he says “Well, want to know why I am here, haha ha?”  Me: “Um, sure.”  Him: “My ex-wife plays for the other team now, I didn’t want a divorce, she is totally butch, but the good news is she gained 50 pounds.”  I raise my hand and give the universal “Imma need  a six pack of those plastic bottles of cheap wine, because, right.”  For the next SEVENTY minutes, he went on to tell me all about how she changed teams, she wears cargo shorts, she emptied out their bank account,  she racked up over $100,000 in debt.  He asked me if I had “Cash for the drinks.” (it was $12 for those of you wondering). This, this isn’t on the first date, IT IS IN THE FIRST FUCKING SEVENTY MINUTES OF MEETING SOMEONE.  He says things like “Yea, I see a counselor and we are working through things.”  To which I am like “Might want to see them more, bro.”  He tells me all about how he does nothing at work, just gets through every day (Oh, Sales = Chairs.  As in, he sells chairs).  This goes on for the full seventy minutes, until I am like “Whoa, lookie there, I just shit my pants” and left.  OK, until I was like “Wow, is it already 4:00pm, I need to get home and go to bed soon.”  No, really, I did say that.

He texts me WHILE WE ARE STILL IN THE PARKING LOT and tells me that he had the most amazing first date.  I, sit in the parking lot and delete all dating apps from my phone.

 

FYI, I don’t give a fu*k about history….

My lil hometown is considering a new school (it appears as though 110 years of 200 students wearing on it may have taken its toll)….. Something so many towns would rejoice over (I mean, legit, how lucky are we? But this is 01945 and I swear we need things to bitch about, and this is the big winner!)…. There is so much opposition to it, and TBH I have no idea why.  However, as I like to say, I am also not very smart, so there is that to take into consideration as well. It seems as though the town is divided into two pretty basic groups.

Group #1.  People who don’t want a new school because it lacks “history” Dude. Again, I am not smart, but I feel like we aren’t exactly driving covered wagons these days, but I am such a space cadet, maybe we are….. (sidebar, can you even IMAGINE me driving a covered wagon?).  And, aren’t you supposed to remember history, not live it? Idunno.

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Me and Pee Wee, just driving the ole covered wagon to school.

Group #2. People who don’t want their children to ingest lead paint and would prefer that they have heat in the winter  People who want to look at all of the options

I dunno.  I spent 10 years in Arizona, where the actual education currently ranks a solid 48 out of the 50 states (you want low, not high).  And, interestingly enough, MA ranks #1.  #holla. So I lived in real time, through some shit education, (in an economy where they are NOT lucky enough to build new schools).  Oh, oh, funny, I do know what I am talking about here, because when I was in Arizona, I worked, in, you guessed it, education…..  So I can really see the benefits of a new school a fresh coat of paint, not falling down and breaking your hip, more than 8 parking spots for 200 people and a school than can accommodate, I dunno, a fucking god damn fire truck in the event there is a fire clean, functional learning spaces as well as adequate space for the little ones to stretch their legs.

I was asked to look into being a candidate for the feasibility study for a new school, because I likely offer a different vantage point (and, wine). I have two young sons (aka my mini hot messes) but they go to two different school districts.  Why? You ask?  Well, because as group #1 would say, Bigs is not ADA so he doesn’t need to be shuffled to a “safe” school. Makes sense when you say it that way… I mean, he is 8 now and all, and legit doesn’t need safety at all. He will be fine.  BUT THE OTHER ONE…. Pee Wee, well, because he is ADA, he gets bused off (ever met an ADA kiddo, ever tried explaining complex things to them? Like “Oh, mommy can’t bring you to school, now you have a driver, a bus, you need to get your back pack, I know you are scared, but um, I bet things will be ok”) but, I mean, that’s cool, because there is “history” in the 110 year old school, so screw him and all of his little ADA buddies too!

I don’t negate that, 110 years is a long time.  If those walls could talk (well, walls don’t talk, and TBH, they would prob be like “Rip me down and send me to my grave.”)….. So much so, that I decided to ask Dr. G what he thought about schools 110 years ago.  If  you can believe this, a few pictures and even a lillle reading came up…. Some snippets:

Teachers were segregated by gender (remarkable, segregation ended in 1964, but it is being insinuated that we bring it back and segregate ADA students….. I LOVE forward thinkers! That’s right group #1, looking two steps ahead and 52 years in the rear!).

Often times, children rode ponies to school! We bitch about the parking at Gerry, can you even imagine if there were 200 ponies?!??!

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Pony Parking.

In the early 1900’s, racial segregation was still prominent, so much so, that if a black child lived and worked on a farm, the owner of the farm could pull him out of school at any time to work alongside his parents.   How’s that for “preserving history?”

In MA, the classrooms were heated with coal. I say we bring it back! The teachers certainty don’t have enough to do, they should tend to a fire as well! That will stop everyone from bitching about the boiler and we don’t give a shit about pollution because, duh, HISTORY!

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I refuse to commit that this ISN’T the Gerry heating system, but at any rate, no need to update it, seems fine!

 

Often times, the schools were one-room schoolhouses. I mean, the Gerry is ½ way there considering the gym, art and music room are all the same! I mean, way to optimize time and space like “KIDS, get your paint brushes and run, run, run!!!!!!! Now whistle! Where are your recorders?”

I’ll wrap this up with one more nugget of info for you folks who still support segregation and discrimination history.  And this one is from the heart.  MY SON DOES NOT DESERVE LESS THAN ANY OTHER CHILD.  People who suggest it should be ashamed. Absolutely ashamed.  I walk through every day with the HOPE that he will be ok.  That he will have a future. How DARE anyone suggest he shouldn’t? 01945 schools are, in often cases, “grandfathered” in to ADA law….. That does not, however, give anyone the right to suggest that ADA students deserve a lesser or “different” education. BTW, I actually don’t give a fuck about history.

In 1975 Congress passed Public Law 94-142, Education for All Handicapped Children Act. One of the most comprehensive laws in the history of education in the United States, this Act brought together several pieces of state and federal legislation, making free, appropriate education available to all eligible students with a disability. The law was amended in 1986 to extend its coverage to include younger children. In 1990 the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) extended its definitions and changed the label “handicap” to “disabilities”. Further procedural changes were amended to IDEA in 1997.

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I couldn’t agree more, let’s ship this kid out and preserve history!