I Paint Like I Date, Nuff Said

Once again I sit here and wonder what in the world to write about.  I could continue with my exciting dating life.  You know that would be a lie.  I will tell you though that I am continuing to hold fast and true to my promise to have a date for New Year's Eve even if it is with another nut.  So I am still on Zoosk and all I can say is "Great Zoosk, who in the world are these people?" This week I want to tell you about something good in my life instead.   My artwork.  I am not an artist.  Artist have talent and training and most importantly, better paint and brushes than I have. But what I lack in all the above I have made up for in having nerve.  I will try anything.  I  paint on everything, anything.  Windows, old tin, aluminum siding, pots, pans, hub caps, everything. My vivid imagination and complete lack of discretion has made me a natural when it comes to finding something silly and fun to paint and not being the least bit embarrassed that someone will pay for it.  After all I have actually paid to meet someone on-line.  Even dumber I have paid to have my house cleaned when others are paying me to clean their houses.  So to sell my artwork to unsuspecting art lovers in Jasper,  doesn't bother me at all.  I am including a couple of my newest pieces so that you see I really am telling the truth.  Not even stretching it this time.  I feel like Bob in "What About Bob?" strapped to a mask and heading out to sea, yelling at the top of his lungs, "I'm sailing, I'm a sailor". Only I am yelling to all of you "I paint, I am a painter".   And I have paint on my garage floor, hair, my chairs, bottom of my feet ( I should wear shoes), door nobs and a lot of my clothes to prove it.

I've Been Zoosked

A good friend of mine has suggested that I give Internet dating another chance.  At this point I am not willing to spend any more money meeting Mr. Wrong, so I am trying one of the "supposedly" free services.  After several minutes of Searching last night I closed down the site and went to watch a movie.  This morning though I was richly rewarded with lots of emails and contacts.   So far I have been winked at and flirted with by a slew of eligible men.  I have been contacted by a very large black man who's first claim to fame was that he is the father of eight "who's don't currently live with him".  That was hard to resist.  Then I got doubled winked at by a man from Atlanta who I think I have seen on America's Most Wanted.  He forgot how to spell Atlanta.  Next a double wink, wink and a flirt by a man who's handle is SANTASOON.  Of course, he was wearing a red shirt and had a long white flowing beard and beautifully matching hair.  And who would be surprised to know that he lives in Jasper, Georgia.  You know, you almost couldn't make this stuff up.  I can't wait to see who contacts me next.  Probably Drew Peterson stating that he has been very misunderstood and unloved by the women in his life. 

Wishing and Hopeing

After spending a couple of weeks angry at myself for my juvenile thoughts and stupid actions regarding my "almost boyfriend" ;  I have decided to forgive myself and move on.  I have placed my cute little house on the market in the hope of finding something closer to civilization and a Super Target.  I moved here with so much hope that living here would be good for my marriage and my husband.  It would afford him an opportunity to make friends and play golf and in doing so "we" would be happier.  He's never lived here and I think with winter approaching, I can't either.   In attempting to move at one of the worst times in real estate history, I am holding fast to a verse from the Bible.  Its one I know but don't know its origin nor the circumstances of its promise, but I know it is intended for me.  "I will pitch my tent in land of hope".  And so I once again, break down my campsite and think " where is the land of hope?"   There is no Hope, Alabama, nor Hope, Georgia on the map so I guess hope is where you find it.   It can be anywhere you want it to be.  But who would have ever have thought Atlanta would be considered "the land of Hope" ?  Now I know I have gone truly mad.