online dating and cats.

Hmm..it's pretty interesting that I unknowingly foresaw my own future two blogs ago. My silly stab at an online dating profile became a reality just over a week ago. Ok, no, those exact words didn't make the cut, but I was coerced into joining Match.com last last Saturday. Clearly there was a lot of wine and peer pressure involved, because I've never seriously considered online dating. Ever. I do have friends that have met and married and are happy, so it works. But I just never thought I would ever do it myself. Which is what they all say, right?

So I created the free profile. Well Genna did actually, under my wobbly wine-o guidance. But obviously the free membership is quite limited. All you can do is look at boyz and 'wink' at them. Creepy. And quite hysterical. So here I am winking at boys for the rest of the night, and getting winked at too, mind you. And I had no intention of purchasing a subscription, untill...

The next morning I received an email...that I couldn't read unless I subscribed. Those assholes. Of course they're brilliant in their marketing schemes. I went back and forth for over an hour, looking at that little orange '1' in the corner signifying the one boy who was interested enough to write instead of just wink. I should stop calling them boys, because they're men. My search bracket is 26-35.

Well, I pulled some hair out and took the plunge. Purchased a 3 month subscription. And I love it! It's hysterical and wonderful and soooo entertaining. Not only is it an ego boost, I mean I get like 20 winks a day from overweight forty-year-old men. Come on. But I can narrow or broaden my search to find whatever sort of man I want. It's seriously like online shopping. Perhaps it's sick and twisted, but for right now, I'm having a good time. I've been on one date thus far and it was wonderful. He asked for a second date, and I obliged. So we shall see where it goes.

In other news, my grandma is, slowly but surely, becoming an old cat lady. Like the epitome. She had 2 and 1 died...RIP Spaz..

So then she had 1, but now all of a sudden, she has 3...and they own her. I went to visit yesterday and I got there in the middle of the night...because I was coming from a wedding (which I will share about in a moment). When I walked in at 11:30, there was a new orange one that I had never seen. As I was midnight-snacking in the kitchen, the red-headed step-child of a cat fully hopped up onto the kitchen counter. I couldn't even believe it. I shoved him off and he looked at me as if I was crazy because he clearly owns this house and does whatever the hell he wants. The next morning, I awoke to my grandma chastising me for stealing the affection of her Kingston (the ugly orange cat). She proceeded to tell me how he normally sleeps with her in her bed, but that this particular night he chose to sleep at my feet on the futon. Not my deal. I kicked him off three times before I fell asleep. Kingston must have a dose of Stockholm Syndrome.

She continues to gloat over her 'kitties' for the next 15 minutes while they literally drape themselves over her furniture preening and licking incessantly. I was so grossed out as she kept telling me to look at her pretty Kingston. Come on. You named him Kingston?! Have you bought him a pedestal yet?! 

My grandma is officially a cat lady. But she has a cell phone now and is learning how to text. So that's cool. She told me yesterday that she got one because I never call her back. She figured texting was her only means of communicating with me. Guilt trip central. She's also battling a late in life crisis (it can't be considered mid-life since she's 70-something right?) She's desperately trying to be young and hip, and it's cute, but the cats are killing the image G-ma. She bought Michael Kors frames for her glasses and has an extensive array of large flashy earrings. And now a cell phone. You go Grandma. You go girl. Just no more cats ok?

Saturday I got the pleasure of baby-sitting a nine month old for a wedding in Ojai. The baby and both of his parents were in the ceremony. So I was just the hand-off person for when he couldn't hang with the festivities. Little did I know that the groom of the wedding would be the director of Zombieland, the bride Emma Stone's publicist, and the officiant, Emma f'ing Stone. Hysterical. She tried to hide her face with her dress as she walked by me the first time. Good try Emma. I see you. Her boo Andrew Garfield was there. The teen wolf look isn't really workin' for him. Sofia Vergara was there too. And a myriad of other exceptionally wealthy people. Good times. I love my life.

I haven't been on a worthy run since my last marathon and I have another marathon in two weeks. I have one foot in the marathon kiddie pool and one foot out. I don't know if I'll get all the way in and run the thing. It's a gnarley mountainous trail marathon, and I've never taken a DNF (Did Not Finish). I don't know if my ego could handle it. This particular race is November 25th...I have yet another marathon scheduled 6 days later in San Francisco. Can you say over-zealous. Good Lord, what was I thinking? 

Yes, I'm a nut.

And that's all I've got for you today. Sorry for the lack of photos.