Caterwauling

I’ve been trying to come to terms with the fact that at my age, I’m going to be meeting men with kids.

I just didn’t think I’d be meeting the kids tonight.

They’re adorable. I kept my freaking-out contained, of course, as they all killed themselves to impress me and get my attention away from the other.

I just worry about meeting the kids so soon, and it’s my own fault for not being in touch to find out that, whoops, custody was switched at the last minute. I worry that I’ll like the kids better than the boy. I worry that the kids — who actually seemed to like me — will be a bigger reason to stay, even if I should ever decide maybe not to.

I was talking to my mom earlier this week, who posited, “Hmm. And nobody hates kids more than you do.” And I didn’t think I was THAT bad about kids (but I am. Oh, yes I am). But when she started swooning, “You could be a MOM!” — oh GAG, I wanted to just die right there. They have one of those, thanks.

But …

I didn’t hate being around them.

Weird.

I am usually the first one to run SCREAMING if I even think a man has a child. This one? Has three freaking amazing, intelligent and adorable ones.

Although, yay for this delightful surprise, he was smart enough to have a beer in my hand within minutes.

He also thought I did well with the surprise (Goddess needs to pick up her voice mail once in awhile. *sigh*) and even did well around THEM as I was in my (wasted) date outfit, pulling a big dog off a little girl and otherwise being entertained by three pint-sized people who were trying to figure out just who Daddy’s new friend is.

Now, it’s too soon to say about any of this, where it’s going. And it’s way too soon to even think about seeing those kids again. But you know? I’ve had so many worse dates in my life. Really, I have.

On any other day, I would have been scared off and headed for the hills. But the part of me that’s most confused is the one that felt at home with all of it. Either I’m growing, or I’m OK where I am right now.

I think of my friends who are also dating, who are hopefully less disappointed than they seem. I thought of the one who hates that the dates are over and it’s bedtime at 9:30 p.m., and I’m assuming he’s seeing someone without wee ones at home. And there I was, leaving at about that time because I figured the kids would never go to bed, as long as I was there for them to entertain.

I still went out after that — I was too cute to go straight home. And while we’re all kidding ourselves going with the flow, I just hope that we don’t adapt so much to these others that we lose the general picture of what we set out to find.

Not to say we can’t find it where we are, but perhaps my biggest fear of all is that what makes me, well, me (foul mouth, impulsiveness, whatever else) won’t go by the wayside as I (and I’m sure others like me) try to find ways to fit ourselves into other people’s worlds.

Or maybe we’ll change their worlds somehow, too.

Or maybe the rest of us who are awake after everyone else drifts off to dream should all meet up for a drink.

I don’t mean to bite the hand that feeds — I’m grateful to the universe for bringing me someone who positively lights up when he sees me, who’s truly crushed to see me go and who seems like he’d do cartwheels when I agree to see him again. Thank you, universe — I owe you for that one.

I’m not complaining — just having fun where I’m standing and simply trying not to think too hard about anything. I’m looking forward to whatever it is I’m supposed to learn. I just hope I’ll be able to be the best person I can be throughout all of it.

Jordin Sparks’ new single (of “American Idol” fame, for those who forget quickly) is called “Tattoo” and debuted on a New York radio show recently.

You have to sit through the whole interview (unless you do the bizarre fast-forward thing, which takes awhile, too), and the song starts right at 11 minutes into it, but it’s worth the wait:

“Tattoo”

All the kids were twittering about this video yesterday but I have to come home if I want to see questionable content. (However, I see PLENTY of other types of questionable content all day anyway. Fair enough. I am pwn3d!)

Internet Commenter Business Meeting video.

I’m sure you, like me, made a pact with people somewhere along the line that whenever you get to a certain age or period in your life and you’re both still single, you’ll marry them. Of course, thank the lord that most of us don’t still TALK to those people (and God help us if they looked us up on Teh Interwebs and made us honor our promise!), but it’s interesting to look back and see how far you’ve come. I mean, look what we otherwise would have SETTLED for!

My mom — whom I haven’t talked to in a few days — called today because her witchy sixth sense told her I was up to something I wasn’t sharing. (Seriously, you don’t get away with SHIT when your mom’s a psychic!) And I was telling her about the news in my life and how it’s exciting to look forward but how there’s always that little part of you — no matter how much you try to bludgeon it — that always wonders “what if” about someone else.

A friend of mine has always joked with me that it would probably take me being in a white dress and standing at an altar for someone I’d once had my heart set on to show up and raise an objection because he wasn’t the one I was marrying. Actually, I’m sure it’s less of a joke than a hope on both our parts.

But you move on. It’s literally that simple. The hard part is not looking back.

I was trying to explain to someone recently that while I don’t really think I’ve been in any serious relationships, as it were, I can safely say I’ve had more than my fair share of truly torrid emotional affairs. I hold most date-type people at arm’s length, literally and figuratively, because I don’t think they could take the earth-shattering passion that resides in my heart and is fighting so hard to be unleashed.

I give that passion to my work, my writings, and maybe even the things I shouldn’t be doing. But when it comes to humans? It’s interesting. I mean, if someone’s dead to me, they’re dead — no more, no less, no looking back. But when they’re alive in my imagination and under my skin? Oh my God. The sex organ you want to stimulate in me first is my brain. Trust me, the rest will respond in kind once that’s turned on!

I think back on the mindblowing emotional affairs in my world, and they’re my favorite to remember. I can still feel so many of the moments when I fell for those people — of my eyes widening, my sighs deepening, the goose bumps prickling. But that’s the thing — the most-intense relationships I was involved in weren’t always paired with true skin-on-skin stimulation.

I don’t think I set out to separate sex and love. Believe me, I anticipate that they SHOULD co-exist; I just haven’t seen it yet. I’ve had to get each from different people. A friend always calls it, “Building the Perfect Man” — find a nice cadre of people to fill your various needs, as apparently it takes five different guys to fill them all.

Although, I admit, I’m getting tired in my “old age.” I don’t know if one really would fill all the needs, but I’d love to whittle it down a bit because I can’t keep everyone straight sometimes. I think that’s why most guys either don’t like to talk or just like to talk about themselves — it’s far easier than to try to remember which girl likes what flowers and who said what to him that he should have remembered.

Anyway, I got distracted and forget what my original thought was in writing this tome. Maybe it’s just my ongoing quest for the total package who gives me the mental calisthenics that I love so much as well as the physical ones that, well, I also love so much. I’ve always settled for one or the other (and have had untold experience with having NEITHER). One can only hope I’m on my way to having both from the same source.

Maybe my point was that my mom mentioned to me about one of those emotional cliffhangers that I always hoped would come to a resolution might just be left that way. “I always thought you’d end up with ___,” she said. “But maybe you’re outgrowing him.”

It was a ponderous moment. Because I always thought I was the one who had to grow IN to him. (No puns, please. I’ve already thought of them all!) It was both freeing and terrifying, because the part of me that wanted it so badly has also grown very tired, while the rest of me that was counting on that as my destiny suddenly realized, oh shit, it’s time for Plan B (more like Plan P, Q or R, actually).

But really, how is moving on a bad thing, either way?

I wonder what our heroine will do when she isn’t always on the lookout for something that’s missing anymore. Or will she always be looking for something more?

You know, I sit and watch CNBC all day, but lately I’ve had the channel on mute because it’s too ugly out there to actually want to watch what’s happening. So, apparently Jim Cramer, host of “Mad Money,” completely freaked out recently. And I? Had the TV muted so I could listen to music.

(If you knew how thin the walls are in my office, you’d understand — I have to have earbuds in so I can get a little peace and quiet.)

Anyway, my colleague mentioned Cramer’s meltdown over the credit crunch, and hoo boy, that’s no doubt going to show up on “The Soup.” And while I’d never buy any of the stocks he recommends (if I even could) because too many people are watching his show and driving up the premiums, I admit that his 14-karat flipout made me really like him. What can I say — I’m a sucker for a passionate guy!

Although … the real reason this video is a hot topic of conversation? That goddamned giraffe outfit on the chick. Seriously. That’s more painful to watch than the heart attack Cramer is about to have over his friends losing their jobs at the big financial firms!

I can’t believe how uninspired I am to blog right now. It’s amazing what a little peace and happiness does to a girl’s mindset. I really don’t have anything to complain about.

And that, my friends, is a sign that Armageddon is probably approaching.