Bloody hell

Attractive, interesting friend coming into town in a couple weeks. Possibly a hook up, maybe even probably.

Calendar check: it's a kid weekend.

supremely suitable sound.

As I head off

Heading out to have dinner at a friend's new place. Should be a nice time. Wine, giggles, maybe watch a movie.

But of course it will be a platonic evening. She's attractive, interesting, but boundaries were drawn long ago on this one.

I'm beginning to suspect that I'm going to have to really take a step out of my comfort zone if I ever hope to have a non-platonic relationship ever again.

regarding the pool and the diving.

The San Francisco Bay Area weekend summary:

• Night prior: 3.5 hours of sleep

• Early morning: PDX, A+ for Horizon Airlines. Seriously. SO easy.

• Mid morning: Long looping drive from OAK into SF. Over Golden Gate. Enjoyed.

• Late morning: San Rafael check in. Nap.

• Mid afternoon: Wedding party. Sweating. Drinking. Meeting lots of people recognized from facebook. Laughter.

• Late afternoon: Talking to cute woman in hot dress. Best chance for connection?

• Minutes later: Odd sense of humor not understood and/or appreciated. Fuck it.

• Evening: Hotel. Alone. Movie. Room Service.

• Mid morning: awake late. Stare at football game. Decide to not visit friends in the city. Too far, no time.

• Noon: Check out. Gigantic turkey sandwich consumed. 

• Afternoon: Back to friend's home/party location. Sit by lovely pool for hours. Enjoy view of golden hills. Blood orange soda mixed with pinot noir? Not my idea, but surprisingly not shitty. Relaxing: si.

• Mid afternoon: to OAK.

• Late afternoon: Zero TSA line. A- for Horizon Airlines.

• Flight: Old lady, why in the fucking hell did you decide that it was a good idea to bring really fragrant Chinese food on the airplane? I mean come ON. Eat your goddamned potsticker before sitting next to me on this tiny regional jet. I like Chinese, but this is too much. You're 11 inches away from me. Mind your chopsticks. 

• Night: Home. Quiet. Deeply unsatisfied. Also, a fish in the tank has died.

Nonspecific longing anticipated for the week ahead. Not for the fish. Although probably that, too.

the briefest of updates for the nobody observing this

I've written about 100 blog posts in my head since I last committed one to the screen. Not sure why they never made it this far. A chance to unleash creative energy and/or miserable blathering...lost.

Got served with divorce papers today. It wasn't a complete surprise. I mean she told me about 2.5 years ago that she had a lawyer. I moved out 7 months ago. I knew how this was going to end. The FE-W had warned me the papers were coming (she signed on 9/11...NEVER FORGET), and was kind enough to have her lawyer do it through the mail rather than serve me in person at work or some bullshit like that.

I'm so ready to be done with this thing, but I was still pissed off. It is a huge stack of paperwork. She has a lawyer, I can't really afford the multiple thousands it would take just to get one. We're playing nice, joint custody, no disputes over belongings. We gots us some ol' irreconcilable differences but we wish each other well. And she's being exceptionally reasonable. She even is asking for 25% less child support than she could in theory get based on the state calculator. She knows I'm giving pretty much everything I can within reason.

But to fill out the state-mandated worksheet on child support her lawyer used a salary that isn't accurate by...a lot. Starting this month I've been in my job for one year and my guaranteed salary is done. I work on production. See patients, get paid. See no patients, get no money. See more patients, get more money. I think the potential is there to make a fair bit more than my guarantee from year one (I've been above that threshold for a couple months) but it's really variable, especially in this economy, and I have no way to predict how much I'll really make. Past pay stubs don't accurately reflect my future earnings.

So even though our divorce agreement specifically states I'll be paying less than I could, I'm afraid that the salary they used on the final paperwork could come back to haunt me years down the line if she asks for more.

"But I don't have more"
"But the divorce paperwork you signed says you do"

So I need some legal advice. Cheap, preferably free. A friend's mother is a paralegal, apparently a good one, and I called my friend to find out what exactly a paralegal does and if one would be useful in looking over the paperwork to  make sure I'm not walking into a trap. And then her mom offered to take a look at the documents. Mighty kind of her, truly. I didn't make the call for that purpose. I feel like I'm getting back just a little good karma. Not sure if I deserve any good karma, but I'm not opposed to it just the same.

In other news, going to the Bay Area this weekend to celebrate the wedding of a good friend. Going solo. To a wedding party. In another, romantic city. Where everyone else will be coupled. I love my friend dearly, because otherwise I wouldn't be doing this to myself. Sigh. I'm feeling so ready to move on. Just have to wait 180 days to make it official. But in the meantime I could go for some romance. Some excitement. Some anything. I'm ready to ease back into the pool.