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Archive for the ‘relationships and romance’ Category

Like so many other people across the eons, Music has been a huge part of my development into the adult I am.  As a small child, every Saturday morning, after breakfast, Grandma put the stack of LPs on that big stereo that was a piece of furniture.  Some of you remember them, wooden, long, almost like a side board for the living room. Her tastes were as eclectic as mine are today.  The selection would include, Ray Charles, The Statler Brothers, Tammy Wynette, Elvis, George Jones, The Temptations, Liberace, Slim Whitman, some polka album she loved, etc.  I think to this day, Grandma is the reason I can’t clean without music pouring out of the house.  Obviously as I grew older, I began to make my own musical decisions. Grandma never, ever censored what we listened to, watched on television, movies we saw.  She would explain to us anything we had questions about.  Along with Grandma, I had my aunt, my mom and my best friend’s sister as musical influences.  They all listened to such variety. Between all of them, and the radio and my friends, I learned to love The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, KISS, Aerosmith, AC/DC. Loretta Lynn.  It runs the gambit.

As a small, small girl,  like 4 and 5, my favorite singers were Charlie Rich and Tom T. Hall. Charlie Rich was my all-time favorite.  “The Most Beautiful Girl” and “Behind Closed Doors” were always played for me at my request.  Of course, I had NO idea what “Behind Closed Doors” was really about, but I loved The Silver Fox, and so it didn’t really matter. We weren’t really allowed to park in front of the TV too much with Grandma, but we did get to watch Hee Haw. I can remember see Charlie perform on there.Tom T. Hall had an album “Tom T. Hall Sings for Kids”.  It had those songs “I Love” and “Sneaky Snake” on it. Grandma would play that album for me all the time.  It often made it in the Saturday morning stack.

Obviously by middle and high school, I had been exposed to hundreds of songs and bands. I have always had a different drummer to march to, so as much as liking mainstream music, I often went against the grain, and there ain’t no shame in my game.  Yes, I love bands like N*Sync and performers like Nelly, but I also like the Violent Femmes, The Clash, KISS, Metallica etc.

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Of all the music I have been exposed to, bought, downloaded, seen live, loved and hated, it’s almost impossible to pick out favorites because songs mean different things to you at different times, and sometimes, it’s just music for fun.  In March of 1987, I turned 18. That year, I had come to love Beastie Boys, much to the disdain of my best friends, until I just forced them to listen so often they caved in to the awesomeness.  There weren’t many preppy white kids at Dreher loving hip hop and rap, but I grew up in a multicultural neighborhood and was around black kids and white kids alike, so as my black friends were discovering rap and hip hop, I went along for the ride.  Beastie Boys “License to Ill” is still one of my top ten albums of all time.  But it wasn’t Mike D or Jam Master J who was invading my brain, heart, soul, bones.  It was as band I had been listening to for years, thanks to WUSC and MTV’s 120 minutes. That March, Bono, The Edge, Larry, and Adam moved in to my being, and never left. My best friend bought me the cassette “The Joshua Tree” for my birthday, and I was done.  From the first listen to that album, every song resonated with me in some way.  Even now, some songs can get me choked up, make me want to dance, laugh, get angry.  “With or Without You” got me through a broken teenaged heart. “Trip Through Your Wires” helped me realize yes, broken hearts are survivable. “Where the Streets Have No Name” made me want to explore my own small world and stretch it like a canvas.  I have owned dozens of copies of the cassette and CD because I have played the different  copies so often, they’ve needed to be replaced.  I will never change the radio station if one the songs on this album comes on.  I have heard Bono sing those songs to me in person, knowing that he IS singing them just for me while The Edge mesmerizes me with his guitar.

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The only other album that has come close to this level of intense connection for me is Pearl Jam’s first album, Ten.  I obtained a promo copy of this album from my friend and neighbor in college, Rob.  He wanted some sweatshirt I had, so we bartered.  I gave him a lime green champion sweatshirt for the CD that revolutionized my senior year in college. from the first note that came out of my shitty stereo, I fell in love.  Head over Heels in love.  Those grunge boys had nothing on Kurt and his crew, as far as I was concerned.  I loved Nirvana, but I absorbed Pearl Jam.  Again, another album that ANY song can take me back to that senior year.  My college boyfriend broke up with me and pulverized my heart that spring.  “Black”, “Oceans”, “Why Go” and “Alive” nursed me back to some semblance of sanity so that I was able to survive that once in a life time event, the moment your first love breaks your heart and leaves you stunned.  I could be angry and rock out “Evenflow”, “Porch” or “Deep” and just be loud and crunchy – Oh stone and Mike with those guitars.

No two albums will ever replace these as the albums that shaped my life and attitudes about so much.  I often wish my life was “The Kentucky Fried Movie” so I could have my own personal soundtrack as I moved from highs to lows, successes and defeats, boredom and excitement.  These albums would have a starring role.

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OK, I have been pretty open about the whole “I’m going to try to the online dating thing”.  In December, I filled out a profile for OK Cupid.  I have actually had some pretty decent success on this one.  I’ve gone on a few dates.  I do have a couple of complaints (of course).  It specifically states in my profile that I am looking for a LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP.  So why then, do these guys who just want to get laid have a casual affair continue to contact me? PLEASE READ!!!  Also, in a similar vein.  why do you guys have long term relationship as one of the things you’re looking for when clearly you’re not looking past how to get me out of my panties.

Unfortunately for me, I am at an age where most of the men I am meeting have been married and divorced and are bitter about love and relationships again.  Thanks bitchy, cheating women for making my life difficult.  Granted, I CAN be a bitch, but I have never cheated one someone, so why should I have to suffer?  Most of the guys I meet are ready to be a 20 something bachelor again, whereas I am ready to finally settle down and get married. I’ve even gone out with guys I would normally say no to.  I’ll keep trying I guess.

Being a Finney Girl is a hard task.

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Sometimes, I have a dream about you, and it just rips me back twenty years. My heart breaks all over again. You used to say I would be the one to leave first, but I told you it would be you. I knew I would love you through everything, and I would have.  I might still. Some days I am pretty sure I’m over it, but other days I am sure there will always be the lion’s share of my heart that still has your initials carved in it.  Those out of the blue dreams are always so bittersweet. They are always so sweet and innocent, so real. Then I wake up and remember that it hasn’t been that way in decades.

I wish I could be more resolute when I sleep, more determined to keep you out of that vulnerable zone.  I don’t even think I want the you of today.  I think I want the us of yesterday.  I’m no romantic fool.  I don’t pine for you, but I do think I miss what we could have had. I do know that I have never in my life loved someone the same way, so openly, so completely.  I think I have managed to guard against that heartbreak again.  I try to lower that shield sometimes, but it always ends up in a disappointment, but disappointment is far easier to overcome than heartbreak.

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I have been on Facebook for a while now.  Since then, I have learned that several guys I went to high school and college with always wanted to ask me out but didn’t! At first, I was thinking, “Damn!  If you guys had stepped up, I wouldn’t have been dateless all through high school!”  Okay, It wasn’t that serious. I did have dates, but the  guys who have fessed up to me were definitely guys I would have gone out with, at least once.  I am not uppity, nor do I think I’m some goddess in flip flops. I AM picky, but mainly I’m picky in that I won’t date drug addicts, men who look like hobbits, trolls or ewoks, men who act like assholes to servers, old people or children, men who are not too bright, and men who take the world and themselves far too seriously.  Besides, I went to school with some pretty awesome guys, who I would have dated, except for a couple.

The men in college (and I use the term “men” loosely considering we were 18 to 22) didn’t stand a chance. I was completely in love.  I did have guys man up and ask me out, tell me to dump Bryan, date them, etc. It didn’t work, I was smitten and no cute hippie boy could sway me.  I wonder how my life would be different if I had said yes to Scott, Jeff or Craig (who is a doctor and was completely in love with me), but I don’t regret my decisions. The only regrets I do have don’t involve my love life at all.

After I thought about it, I realized those scaredy cat high school boys weren’t to blame. It’s hard enough to ask a girl out, but a girl who is full of confidence, realizes her own potential and future greatness? It would be easier to run naked through a football game. I have always been brazen and opinionated, not always top qualifications for a girl growing up in SC who was a little odd to begin with.  I should have made it easier for them but not seeming like a friend or a buddy. I was a flirt, but I was an equal opportunity flirt.  Bryan often commented on that, but he didn’t mind.  He understood that was just my way.  I also think that as amazing as this might seem to someone who doesn’t know me, I was a little scared myself.  I was scared for different reasons though.  I didn’t want to grow up and make mistakes my mother had made.  I WAS going to college, and I WAS NOT going to get knocked up in high school.  I kept boys at arm’s length oftentimes.  However, even now, if I set my sites on you.  You’re pretty much doomed. It’s rare that I don’t “get my man”

Now, I’m 42, never married and still not much of a dater,and I’m okay with that, because I suck at it.  I’m good at relationships, but I feel so awkward on dates.  This is probably why most of the guys I have dated were guys I was already friends with.

I wonder if any 25 years when I’m sixty, some old friend is going to come u to me at funeral or an bird buffet and tell me he always wanted to ask me out, but didn’t.  It reminds me of our friend Margie who passed away a couple of years ago.  This older man who no one knew was at her funeral and when her sister asked who he was, he told her that he had gone to college with Margie.  He said he had always been  in love with her but was too afraid of rejection to tell her how he felt. How sad for both of them.  Imagine the life they could have had? If he never married and loved her without being with her, imagine how much love they would have shared had he made that move.

So what Facebook has taught me is to Go for it.  Whether I will follow through, I will have to wait and see.

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For all of my bravado and audacity, I only show people about 70% of what I really am.  I usually say what I am thinking, but always know, I’m holding back just a bit.  Inside, I am usually repressing some feeling or thought that I think it’s safest to leave unspoken.  Safest for me.  I am generally, not concerned about how it will make me appear to most of the population, but I have gotten so used to agreeing to do things I really don’t want to do that it’s only a rare few that gets the gritty truth.  I have probably only revealed romantic interest in 5% of the men to whom I’ve actually been attracted. It’s much safer to not step out on that limb.  This I have learned the hard way.  I am not a heart on my sleeve kind of girl with my emotions, except those of the pissed off variety, but even those, I often tamp down – it’s usually not worth the uproar.  But for sure, sadness, disappointment, unrequited love – those will remain on the down-low, controlled and only displayed to a select few, no matter how raw or painful.

I often wish I could have grown up a crazy one.  The one who drinks daily, smokes weed, snorts, shoots up, doesn’t work, sleeps, mooches, disappoints, but most importantly, does so with  reckless uncaring abandon – regarding those who care for them.  I would love to just give in to insanity and blame all of my problems, failures, insecurities on some one thing or person.  The idea of just sitting in a mental hospital on drugs and telling people what they want to hear is appealing.  Unfortunately, at some point they’d see through my ruse.  They’d know I’m no more crazy than the next man or woman.   The ironic thing about this, I am pretty sure I”m in the majority.

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So, it’s been a while since I have done shown some love (and some unlove)

Things I am loving right now:

**almond bear claws from Publix

**teen lit

**my new teaching ideas

**snapped

**fresh, new razor cartridges

**the promise of fall in the air some mornings

**the reminder of summer in the air most afternoons

**planning my halloween costume

**playing with Matthew

**my new clinique mascara

**walker’s short bread

**my friends

**all of my dog/house/pool sitting jobs

**tammy’s pimento cheese

**thinking about the SC State Fair in a month!!

**reading my students’ journals (my favorite of which was a funny, cute account of trying to get Justin Beiber’s phone number on Twitter)

**our seventh graders this year

**ginger ale

**goat cheese

**sushi

**orbit spearmint gum

**my kitties

**a certain man who can always make me laugh

**movies

**new tv line ups

**project runway

**tim gunn telling off one of the contestants on PR

**Pinnacle whipped cream vodka with orange juice

**Jon Stewart and The Daily Show

**HeelTastic

**new season of The Amazing Race in two weeks!
Stuff I am not loving….

>>fall allergy season (achoooo)

>>car repairs

>>itchiness

>>being too busy to walk (which will be rectified this week!)

>>my  tan is fading

>>extremists who are intolerant

>>the stinkiness of the river

>>lazy students

>>my messy room

>>judgmental people who don’t know what they’re talking about

>>not being a trustfund baby or lottery winner

>>reruns

>>those ankle boot sandals mutations

>>jelly shoes

>>katy perry songs (all of them)

>>my spilling everything

>>my crappy old ass mattress

>>my crappy ankle

>>white chocolate

>>raspberry anything

>>lemon anything

>>the new cherry 7UP formula

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Recently, someone asked me about my most memorable date.  Most of the dates that I have had that are memorable are memorable because they were so crappy.  It reminded me of the worst date I ever had.

When I was in 11th grade, my best friend Debbie and I had met these college freshmen boys from USC.  Details on how we met them escape me.   One boy in particular caught my eye, Dante.  I know. I know.  The name alone should have warned me, but I was young, and he was hot.  Picture it, Columbia, 1986, a beautiful young high school junior meets a hot young college freshman.  Okay, I was slightly above average looking, but he WAS hot.  He had long blonde hair, -hey, it was the 80s damnit- blue eyes, and best of all, he was realllly smart.  I have always been a sucker for a smart guy.  Anyway, after we had all been hanging out one Friday night, I drinking a two liter bottle of Sun Country cherry wine coolers, the rest drinking beer or wine, Dante asked me out.  Woohoo!  Well, I should have known better.  The date was riding with him to Rock Hill to drop off some winter things and pick up some other things because it was getting close to time for school to be over.

That night, Debbies front axle fell out of The Banana Boat and we waited literally hours on Main Street in front of the USC School of Law for her lame ass dad to send a tow truck to get us.  Lord knows HE was not going to do it.  We got home around daylight.  Dante was picking me up at  7:30 to leave for Rock Hill.  To this day I do not why we left that early.  Needless to say, I was extraordinarily sleepy, but I went.  It was downhill from there.

Problem 1

I had explained to him about how we had not gotten much sleep, hoping he would let me off the hook for a small nap (as a REAL gentleman would have), but he said, Aw man, that sucks!  I bet you are tired.  Lets talk about the most boring subject I can think of.  Okay, he didnt say that last partbut he proceeded to do just that!   Granted, I am a relatively intelligent girl.  Even as a high school girl, I could carry my own in most any conversation on nearly any topic. HOWEVER, just because I COULD talk about any topic did not mean I WANTED to.  I do not even KNOW how this topic arose, but someone I found myself in a discussion over the Watergate scandal.  Why were young adults talking about freaking Watergate at 8:00 on a beautiful spring morning?  Perhaps I would not have minded so much if I had gotten more than 1 and a half hour of sleep. I was just NOT in the mood.  Finally, the KIMFINNEY in me came out and I said, Do we really have nothing more interesting we can talk about?  He became a little miffed, but he let it go.

Problem 2

When we arrived in Rock Hill, I was getting my third or fourth wind and we were getting along.  When we walked into his house I met his mother.  SHE WAS AN OLDER VERSION OF ME!  My new crush had an Oedipal complex!  She had short curly dark hair like I had, fair skin, bubbly personality.  She was really nice!  We were also wearing the exact same sweater, color and all.  I was so freaked out.  Dante spent the next two hours ignoring me and talking to his mom.  He was definitely a mamas boy.  She started his laundry!  We had to stay until his dirty clothes were clean.

Problem 3

His father came in and we all had lunch.  I dont even remember what it was, but at least it was edible.  While we were eating, someone was outside practicing a TRUMPET! It was very nearby and we could hear every single botched note clearly.  I was slap happy from the sleep deprivation and the entire twilight zone aspect of this date, that I started laughing and couldnt stop.  I know his mom and dad thought I was a fool.

Problem 4

We barely spoke the entire trip home, so it was big fun.  I did mention that his mom and I bore a striking resemblance. He didnt seem to appreciate the observation.

Problem 5

When we got back to Columbia, instead of taking me home first, he went to his dorm, parking a good two blocks away and asked me to help him carry all this crap we had brought back!  I toted this big ass basket of his freshly laundered clothing while he carried two guitars.

Problem 6

Oh, yeah, did I mention he was a musician.

Problem 7

When we got home, I think he actually wanted to give me a good bye kiss!  WHAT??? He must have been NUTS.  I jumped out of that car, yelled bye over my shoulder and bounded up the steps to my house.  Only stopping once I was safely inside.

This was hands down the worst date I had been on.  I only refer to it as a date because he said, wanna go out?    I didnt hear from him for several months. Then one night, I was working on some project for history  when he appeared on my doorstep.  I invited him in to be polite, which is where the niceties ended.  We made small talk.  He made some comment and I retorted.  It was so unimportant that I dont even know what it was about now.  He said, You always have to have the last word.

I said,  No, I dont. You do.

He laughed and said, Uh. No.

I said, Really?  Then what are you doing here?  You had to get the last word after that disaster of  a date when I yelled bye and took off.

He said, I just came by to see how you were doing.

I just smiled.  I figured if I gave him the freakin last word, hed leave me the hell alone.  Nooooo.  He kept going on and on defending himself.  Finally, I said, Listen, I need to finish this, youre gonna have to leave.

Oh, Okay.

As he was walking out of the door, I did get the last word.  I said, Glad you got that last word you were seeking.  And slammed the door.

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