It has been an odd day. Mostly because I have been asking odd questions of people. I’ve been a bit disappointed though because many of the things I have asked of people, I’m not getting.

I asked someone I know to be a coach to help me as a coach, but he’s too busy and passed me along to someone else. I don’t know how that will work out, but I will just wait and see. I’m disappointed though.

I made a unusual proposal to a friend of mine. He also turned me down once he found out what it really was. I think he was considering my proposal when he thought he knew what it was. Oh well. More disappointment.

I have been taking on asking people for things, help, etc. Especially those things I think they will say “no” to. It seems that my requests are occurring as unusual and odd. I’m probably being a freak in their worlds.

I noticed the “freak magnet” category as I was picking where to put this post. I still have that happen, but they seem much less freaky than they used to. I may be showing up as the freak now. But then I always admit that I am.

As if watching for crazy drivers isn’t enough, some man attacked a woman on the highway in San Jose. This isn’t a common occurence thankfully, but still concerning. This may be the type of man who does this repeatedly. As a woman who often drives alone at night, I really don’t like hearing about these things.

Oh, and happy leap day. This is the day of one of those obsure traditions…women can ask men to marry them on this day. I have no idea where this comes from, but for those of you out there who are waiting for the man to ask, I say take matters into your own hands.

Well the week has been a weird one. Being sick has sucked. I’m still sick, but taking far less medication. The coughing can be terrible though.

I noticed a pattern to  my week which has made me think how weird things have been. First, someone who hasn’t spoken to me talked to me for quite some time on Monday evening. He initiated the conversation. Then on Friday, I get a call from a friend who just got married two months ago. It seems things aren’t going very well. Two very unexpected conversations from former boyfriends in a week. I’d say something is amiss here. Honestly, I can’t wait for the current one to get back.

I’m still missing my posts here. I’m currently just over 18,000 words on my novel. It’s starting to get some direction. Right now, the characters are pretty well developed.

Last night was the second to last seminar for sex and intimacy. I would normally be writing the “Friday sex post.” At this point, it should be the “intimacy post.” Last night though, the class didn’t speak to me in the way it normally does. I got something that had nothing to do with the subject of the course. I have been floundering in the leader’s program wondering why I’m doing it. I had forgotten. I knew I had forgotten, but I didn’t know how to get it back. Well, it’s back, but not quite fully present. It will be though.

In this seminar and others, they often say that context is decisive.  Definitely. It’s true in my novel as well. Oh, and intimacy can be found/created anywhere. It was an odd day. Normally I would talk about being a freak magnet. I suppose I still am. However, there is another way to look at it.

Most likely while I was sleeping. Apparently overnight I have become rather popular. No, not my webpage–personally. I don’t know exactly when this occurred. I don’t know how or why it happened. Suddenly people come up to me–ones I know, ones I sort of know, ones I don’t know. It’s far more frequent than it used to be. If they don’t actually come up to me, they somehow indicate that they want to talk to me. It seems like some sort of attractive fairy dust has been sprinkled over me. I suppose I should enjoy it while it lasts. Now if only I could get sprinkled with some money fairy dust. That would be nice.

One old lady’s ramblings at the garage sale has me thinking. She said she was always told that she had rose-colored glasses, as if that was a bad thing. Better to be realistic according to her brother, she said. I’m not so sure. I began life like any child–wide-eyed, open, curious. My innocent look on life was shattered early, and I was one who only saw bad. Bad things, bad people. No way out. As a teenager, I considered myself a realist. Superior to those around me who saw only good things. Let’s be honest…a realist is just a glass-half empty person who think he/she is seeing things as they are. None of us see things as they are. I worked hard to be positive. It was a little like pretty icing on a mud pie. This lasted for years. Perhaps until my son was born. I know something shifted then. Now, I think having ros-colored glasses isn’t such a bad thing. Good for peace of mind. Yes, the world often seems nuts, crazy, insane even. But one person cannot fix it all. You can choose what you focus on and what you choose to fix, if that’s you’re thing.

I told the short elderly lady that I didn’t think rose-colored glasses were too bad after all.

You may wonder what she bought. She bought my extra copy of “Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life.” I think for grandkids. I can’t remember. It’s totally brilliant. The moment couldn’t be more perfect:  to be discussing how one sees life with someone buying “The Meaning of Life.” Odd. Serendipitous.

Ever since Mr. O read the post about Flibbertigibbet, he has been using that as an excuse to reduce any time I might spent around her. I think he would have found any excuse because I found her difficult to be around and told him what I thought the first time I met her. This weekend there was a birthday party for one of his friends, and the Flibbertigibbet was helping with the party. According to him, she had even coerced a ride out of him. Now, I have no idea how that happened. He seems to have no trouble saying “no” to me, although he usually doesn’t say the word. He told me that he would have asked me to go along, but he said he was trying to do me a favor by minimizing contact with her. What a story! I told him he should let me make my own decision. He also reminded me that I blogged about her using a “buck-fifty” word rather than a “fifty-cent” word. However, he must love the description in flibbertigibbet because he uses that instead of her name. Unfortunately, she shares the same name as the car in Stephen King’s novel. It’s too bad that I don’t remember the movie very well, or I could make some very interesting analogies.

New development…

As I write, he’s chatting with her and telling me about it. She once decided to stop talking to him. Maybe she will get mad enough to do so again. She drains your energy. I described her as a Jack Russell who can talk. Imagine a spastic dog with English skills. I have trouble with spastic dogs–forget talking ones. I think he’s seriously contemplating reducing the time he spends around her.

In case, my few readers haven’t seen this, there is a website for posting pictures and descriptions of catcallers and assorted perverts. The public pervert. You know, the ones who grab, call out or even grab themselves in public. The site began in New York City, but several other sites for cities around the country have popped up. The prevalence of this harrassment makes you want to cringe.

Check out the stories. If you live in one of the cities that has a Hollaback website, please check it out. Before anyone gets righteous about how the women dress or act, just remember that this stuff doesn’t happen to men. I’ve had incidents myself, and on both occasions I was covered up.

One thing that doesn’t change when you leave graduate school is the ratio of men to women in the sciences. I suppose I thought it would. I hardly noticed while I was in grad school. You do notice when you go to work. It’s very obvious when you’re the only female in a room of 30. All eyes are on you and your presentation. I have to say I was respected, but I think that was more out of being more educated.

I understand the desire to blend in and hardly be noticed as one of the few females in a sea of males. It’s easier because being noticed means for some very strange encounters. Weirdness on occasion is okay. Weirdness on a regular basis makes you want to shoot people.

As an undergrad in engineering, I dressed conservatively as well. My sorority sisters often begged me to go to the engineering library. I got interrupted every five minutes by some guy stopping by. The girls thought it was great. They were guaranteed to meet at least a dozen guys through me. Not even going in sweats without makeup made a difference. I hated going to the engineering library because I couldn’t get anything done. I had enough homework that I didn’t have time to play at the library. Going to the engineering library to “study” meant several more hours of study time back at my room. Worthless. Waste.

I dressed very conservatively for work as well. On the occasions that I wore a v-neck, all attention was on the skin above the “v.” It isn’t easy to work when your coworkers and boss are tyring to get a glimpse down your shirt. I was able to be more productive if I wore turtlenecks and long sleeves. No way would I wear jeans. I don’t own a single pair that doesn’t hug every curve. I like them that way, but they are useless for work. Even dressing so conservatively didn’t keep the guys from looking, but at least they could still work. Those lovely tops that are all over the stores were just too distracting for them.

Once again, I am a freak magnet. Now people have always told me “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but…” I often want to reply, “I don’t either.” I tend to nod politely and smile.

Todays’ incident was particularly interesting. While many odd people can be found at the grocery store, it’s not often that the guy in line in front of you points out that he’s not really that black. Out of the blue. He even showed me how light his skin is…under his sleeve. But man, the guy was really black. And he was correct…he is very light. He then told me the story about removing tree stumps from his yard which turned him from light to dark in just 2 days!

While this guy was an interesting freak of nature…I have to wonder what possessed him to tell ME about it. Perhaps, it is because I’m so pale-skinned. Extremely light. I wanted to say “See this? I’m this color year-round!”