I'm stuck here, waiting. In Hillbilly Heaven - home of the Velvet Wearers. The Squeeze took the kid camping this weekend.
I suspect this was to escape a weekend of my parents and a bunch of women coming for lunch. This was fine with me. Escape is good. Boy bonding time, great. Me time excellent.
The weekend didn't work out exactly as planned; I awoke Saturday morning a shivering mess and although managed to cook breakfast, I couldn't eat and was vomiting and sweating within an hour after.
Too late to cancel the lunch and 'bag' party I had arranged. Hell, I'm still not sure how I made it through the day and in the end, they all knew just how damned sick I was. No way could I watch those bottles of champagne being guzzled without so much as a sip otherwise!
Goes to show how good the bags were. No winning personality from me yet she sold 600 bucks worth and I scored a couple of gorgeous bags that I couldn't get as excited over as I normally would.
Today, better, but still avoiding most things food or alcohol related. Even feeling like crap I answered the Squeeze's call when his car broke down.
And now, here I sit. Awaiting his taxi to get here... And hoping the velvet bug passes me over
The art of dating when you are in your 40’s is a perilous, soul destroying mission. I blame my misfortune with men on the 'fairy tale factor'... That never ending belief that love conquers all and that one day a prince will come. Reality isn't even close to the fairy tale. Especially when the prince doesn’t just come with baggage – he comes with a bitter, money grubbing ex-wife clinging to his back like a hump.
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Thanks. Better check it out but it should be up today!