Wild Life Of A Little Monster

Others are scared of me because of all the fun I have. Considered a vigilante by my Eponine.

Oh, I'm Sorry ... I Thought You Were

Went to lunch Friday with a colleague. My first lunch ever with this person. She's 30ish, seems very driven and motivated, educated, and a nice spirit. I consider her hot. I was even a little nervous about the lunch. The two of us met over three years ago through common interests. She recently went through a divorce after nine years of marriage. I know the former husband too.

We talked quite a bit about a guy she knows that I know of. I've seen him in public and he's very over-the-top "out there." I don't know how else to describe it. Anyone meeting him would likely make certain assumptions about him. According to my Friday lunch date, he's the first to talk about his wife and kids.

While visiting Friday, I talked some about my past experience with heartbreak. Let's say, hypothetically, a person might have had a young love that led to marriage and then later to a few years of depression. It's just a hypothetical. A hypothetical that likely would provide someone opportunities to reach deep inside to learn what truly makes them who they are and to eventually learn to celebrate being themself. To stop beating themself up wondering why they are the way they are and just accepting and appreciating who they are. And to not necessarily need a partner/lover/date/husband/wife or whatever to complete them. Just a cat. It's just my thought, if in fact that type of situation was to have really occurred for someone.

At one point, Friday's lunch date said something along the line of "Oh, I guess I was wrong." I responded, "Oh, and I thought you were hot and happily married."

Hillary, Oprah, Stedman, Anne, Tom, Nicole, Katie, a governor, a university president, this guy, that girl, that husband, a wife, his son, her daughter ... are they getting a divorce, surely they're finally tying the knot, when are they having children, they seem so unhappy......who know's who is doing what or where they are in their relationship? People usually expect speculation to end once they are married. Or they try to get it to end by saying something about marriage. But lord knows, there is someone, somewhere talking about it and trying to "figure it out."

We're complicated creatures. It seems we have gotten even more complicated over the last decade or so. Or maybe I'm just getting older and my perspectives have changed and just think we are more complicated.

The rest of the lunch seemed a little awkward. The food was good. Strangely, I found myself wondering if her ex-husband might be gay.

7 Comments:

At August 13, 2006 10:23 PM, Blogger amy and the bad cats said...

or two cats . . . :-)

 
At August 13, 2006 10:51 PM, Blogger Meg said...

Do you think The Boyz might be a couple and I just don't know it? There is a lot of "grooming".

 
At August 14, 2006 12:08 AM, Blogger Eponine's Cowboy said...

Two cats likely would be good too. That's right, Amy.

Those Boyz always have been very suspicious, Meg. They're not too shy about showing their affection, but one likely would believe they are just awfully "close." But, I don't know, M, they really do seem pretty in to each other.

 
At August 14, 2006 7:45 AM, Blogger The Meezers or Billy said...

yep, that's why mommy purrfurrs cats! we're not so complicated.

 
At August 14, 2006 8:23 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'll try to simplify things... I think it's awesome you went to lunch with a girl AND told her she was HOT... to her face!! ;)

 
At August 14, 2006 10:21 AM, Blogger Eponine's Cowboy said...

You all can be pretty complicated too, Meezers. But generally less.

SL, Simplify? I think your comment implies you missed my point while likely trying to make your own point.

 
At August 14, 2006 11:01 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sorry guess I'm not on top of my game... just re-read this article and still am not sure I totally understand what happened at your lunch... I'll have to wait for the "in person" explanation over burgers at the Flea.

 

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