Dear Potential Suitor

Dear Potential Suitor,

You may have come across this blog by Googling me. You may have Stumbled Upon me or you may be madly in love with me from afar. Maybe you are a person from my past that closely follows my blog for no reason in particular or you might not even know me. There is a chance you could be doing some research after reading my incredible OkCupid profile and before sending me a message. No matter your reasons for ending up on this blog, I have something very important to tell all of you.

I am not a horrible person.

I realize that my recent Dating Game series of posts may come off on the verge of man eater status (especially the posts to come), but I promise this isn't the case.

I signed up for OkCupid with the very best of intentions: I want to meet people. Correction: I want to meet someone. The site came highly recommended by a few friends and I am new to the area. I don't have the time or energy to frequent bars in hopes of meeting the man of my dreams over dollar drafts.

When I wasn't fully invested in OkCupid, I removed myself from the site. I have been on the site, giving it my all in hopes of meeting that special someone. My hard work, witty messages and amazing photos paid off because I was asked on dates. This is where I would like to repeat: I am not a horrible person.

Every single date I went on, I went with the best of intentions. I went into every date with a perfectly planned outfit, minty breath, a powdered nose and a fresh application of lipstick or gloss (just as Melanie taught me to do back in high school). I went into every single date with butterflies in my stomach a racing heart and fidgety hands. I went into every date with nerves, excitement, anticipation, high hopes and high energy.

Every date I went on, I brought my A- game. I was on. I listened. I talked. I laughed. I questioned. And after every single date, I was exhausted. Dating is hard work. I go into every date wanting to give my date the chance he deserves.

So, potential suitor, don't be scared away by my writing. I write about what happens, and yes, everything I have written about has happened, but I change the names! Your identity is safe here. Date me, entertain me, and give me something to write about! Because yes, I will write about what we do. I will do everything in my power to make things work between us because I think you deserve that. And goodness knows, I know I deserve that! But sometimes things don't work out, and stories are created.

Potential suitor, I want to date you. I want to have fun stories to write about you. I want to have fun stories to write about us. I want to be so busy having fun with you that I don't have time to write. I want to have a really big crush on you. I want to walk my dog with you. I want to bake for you. Maybe I'll try to cook for you. Or better yet, maybe you will cook for me. I want to talk about my day at work with you. I want to not talk at all with you. I want to try something new with you. I want to not check my email with you. I want to go for bike rides with you. I want you to fix my sticky deadbolt for me. I want to drink wine with you. I want to let you drive me places- not after drinking the wine, of course. I want to laugh with you. I want to date you. As Jef-with-one-f Holmes from The Bachelorette would say, "I want to date you so hard."

{source}

I think I would enjoy feeling a million emotions as well. Jef seems to be enjoying himself.


Love,

Meaghan

It's a hard knock life

Wilbur has a tough life.  Every morning when I wake him up for his walk, he lets me know just how tough it is.  Sometimes he whines, other times he stretches for a good ten minutes, but his favorite move is to refuse to open his eyes.

Pretending to be asleep.

The night before we left for Madison.

I will give him a little credit, because the past two weeks have been really tough.  I took him away from his family and his best friend and immediately made him sit in a very hot car for 19 hours.  I made him stay in a bizarre hotel and ride an elevator.  Side note: watching a dog ride an elevator for the frist time, or the first few times, is absolutely hilarious.

His throne in the car

After the car ride I put him in a strange house with more strange people.  (The people weren't actually strange, just strangers to him)

The next day I made him stay in another new place with weird smells, bizarre sounds outside the door, and no furniture.  Only two days later I woke him up at 5 am.  This may have been the worst for him.  If Wilbur had control of his life he would go to bed at 8 pm every night and not wake up until 11 am.  Unfortunately, my new job likes me to arrive before noon, so he and I were up at 5. 

We took a nice long walk along a path that is becoming familiar.  And then I locked him up for the day.  But not before giving him his anti- anxiety treat!

There is a wonderful pet store down the street where Wilbur and I are quickly becoming regulars.  When we went there the first time the cute owner asked to be introduced to Wilbur.  When Wilbur backed away and put his tail down when he tried to give him a treat the man asked if he was always so skittish.  I explained that it had been a stressful week, and Wilbur had become a nervous nelly with the move.  The adorable man recommended special anti- anxiety treats to help.  And with a flash of his pearly whites, I was sold.  Yes, cute pet store owner, I will now medicate my dog.

But before you think I'm terrible for leaving Wilbur in his kennel all day, let me explain that he loves it!  He sleeps in his kennel by choice at night, and finds it comforting.  When everything around him has changed so significantly, his kennel and bed are the same, and he likes that.  I also put his kennel in my closet, so he can't hear people coming and going in the hall, which I think keeps his stress level to a minimum.

Luckily, last week was short, so Wilbur was only home alone for two days before I spent the day at home with him.  On the fourth Cait and I took Wilbur out to dinner with us at Roman Candle, a pizza place down the street from my apartment.

On the way home he stopped at our new favorite pet store.  I think we have different reasons for it becoming our favorite, but it works well for both of us!  The pet store was closed, but Wilbur didn't understand that.  He sat down in front of the door and didn't want to move.  The cat of MadCat came to the front door, and Wilbur was in love.  As she slinked back and forth, rubbing her back against the door, Wilbur followed her every move.  And now, he and I have similar motives for frequenting the store.

This past weekend I brought Wilbur into Waggin' Tails Doggy Dude Ranch to begin his life as a daycare-goer.  He had his temperament test and was immediately thrown to the wolves, or the pack of 30+ dogs in the small dog area.  When I was allowed to see him I was informed that he was doing quite well.  From a doggy daycare newbie, he looked like a brown noser to me, standing right next to the dogsitter waiting to be pet, but I guess that was good?  The woman said that the fact he wasn't hiding from the other dogs or getting aggressive were good signs.  Whatever you say, dog lady!  And so Wilbur will be going on Tuesday to play with the other pups and not be medicated while I work.  His cubby will remain empty, but if I decide to, he is allowed to bring special treats, toys or even an afternoon snack with him. 

Go ahead, make fun all you want.  Trust me, I know how silly it is.  I wonder if we will have quarterly parent-teacher conferences...  Progress reports?  Graduations?

Just after all of my stuff was delivered... see the over dramatic puppy?