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Heading To Santa Fe

I’ll be driving down to Santa Fe on Wednesday for the Thanksgiving holiday. Cindi is hosting dinner at her family’s house. She’s doing most of the work for the southwest-inspired dinner. I’ll be making the cranberry sauce and baking the desserts. The guys are providing the wine. Here’s the Thanksgiving dinner menu:

Salad with kale, grapefruit, pomegranate and avocado
Turkey with ancho chili tamarind glaze
Mashed potatoes with roast poblano gravy
Wild rice dressing
Garlic green beans
Cranberry sauce with dates and orange
Mini tamales
Pumpkin tart with anise-seed crust
Persimmon-pumpkin pie with gluten-free ginger snap crust.

Do you think this is enough food for seven people? It should be a fun time.

He’s Back

Mr. five nine texted on Saturday wanting to get together again. I replied on Sunday night with a message I would contact him when I return from Santa Fe in a week. I kicked the can down the road a week when I should have just told him no. I have a feeling that I should not see him again because he will probably want more than a friendship. I’m sure I gave him a false sense of hope that we will date. I have a feeling this man comes with a lot of drama that I don’t need. In reality, I don’t want to get involved with a man who acted so childish in our last texting exchange. Instead of just telling him no I probably made the situation worse. I didn’t want to hurt his feeling but I’m guessing that’s what I’ll do when I tell him he’s been moved into the friend column with no migration path to the boyfriend column. I forgot how hard dating can be at times.

Sentence Of The Day

Here’s the latest gem to come across my desk:

I am totally sick of all this pushing for new projects and estimates because we really don’t have a chance anymore to do this right and I feel like we are just throwing estimates on things, but because of the mess I’m in most of those estimates come to be realty.

This one isn’t as bad as previous posts. At least this sentence has one comma. I think realty should be reality. It’s still a convoluted mess.

Is This High School?

I had a texting exchange with Mr. five nine yesterday. He started the exchange with “Guess you didn’t like me”. How does one respond to that? It wasn’t that I disliked him. I just didn’t feel a spark and wasn’t sure if I wanted to put him in the friend column, or toss him back in the dating pool. The exchange went back and forth. I was polite while being non-committal. I did not call him out on falsifying his height and location. He told me he sits at home a lot because he doesn’t have many friends and hasn’t had a boyfriend in years. I was feeling guilty for not contacting him. I was about to suggest getting together when I return from my holiday in Santa Fe when he sent this: “Never mind… You’re not interested in me… good luck on your search for someone special in your life…”. No wonder this guy doesn’t have many friends. I am so glad I didn’t suggest a second meeting. He could have been a friend but I don’t need people in my life who act this way. Mr. five nine needs to grow up and stop acting like he’s in high school.

I met a guy for coffee a few days ago. Before we met face to face he started texting several times a day. I thought this was a bit much and gave me the impression he was desperate. His profile said he was 5’9″. After meeting I couldn’t help but wonder if 5’6″ is the new 5’9″? Did he think I would not notice he was several inches shorter than advertised? He also lived in a different part of town than shown on his profile. Why lie about the little things? It just sets an expectation that he will not be truthful about other things. The texting stopped after we met which is a good thing since there was no spark on my end.

The Glamorous Life

Over dinner last night, Mike and Chris filled me in on the process of cleaning out Barb’s house. They found many photos of Barb from the late fifties and early sixties. There were numerous clippings from The Denver Post society column about Barb. One column was devoted to her European summer vacation with her daughter. The story detailed her six week Mediterranean cruise and the villa she rented on the French Riviera. The pictures accompanying the story were reminiscent of Jacqueline Kennedy and her daughter Caroline. Barb was dressed to the nines in the vacation photos. Other pictures documented Barb in a variety of furs, Chanel suits and evening gowns getting out of big black Cadillac sedans, Lincoln Town Cars, and limos. Photos were also found of numerous events at the Denver Country Club with governors, mayors and other pillars of the business community. Barb was a high-profile fixture on the Denver society scene. She was also a trophy wife married to man thirty years older. The pictures detailed a glamorous, party-filled life that made it look like she didn’t have a care in the world. I couldn’t help but picture the Sharon Stone character in Casino.

So what happened? Why did Barb’s son commit suicide? Why is there no relationship between Barb and her daughter? Why does Barb not have any friends? That’s the part that the pictures don’t reveal. It’s a mystery that may never be solved. Perhaps Mike and Chris will discover clues as they continue to get her house ready for market.

Does An Old Lady Live Here?

In the last few weeks I was invited to small gatherings at two different guy’s houses. I know both guys from the gym. They are fifty-something hyper-masculine guys. I found it odd that both of their houses were furnished like an old lady lived there. Perhaps the furniture, china, curio cabinets and Hummel figurines were inherited and had sentimental value that did not allow the items to be stored away or replaced. The house décor didn’t match the masculine package that both men present to the world. There was a disconnection between the men and their homes.

I wonder what impression my house leaves on visitors. Does my house project my personality? Do visitors think I have too much abstract art? I may have to run this by Cindi to see what she thinks.

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