I don't know if it's the cool nights or the pumpkin cookies, but I've been having some weird, vivid dreams.  I've dreamt about people from my past.  I've dreamt about going to Paris for an hour just to pick "something" up.  I’ve dreamt about bugs crawling on the walls.

Recently I had a dream I was at a party.  Mark Anthony (former husband of Jennifer Lopez) had propositioned me with a night of Latin passion (my words, not his, but I’m sure he’d agree).   I wasn't too keen on Mark Anthony.  He's not my type.  But after a while I thought "why not.  It's Mark Anthony.  He seems like a very passionate lover.  So I went to my friends and told them my decision.   They told me they heard rumors that he only has threesomes - with J Lo...   Hmmm...  not a deal breaker, but I woke up before anything happened.

Yeah, I know.  Short story.  But this is not the first time I've considered a threesome. 

 A few years ago I met a guy on an online dating site.  He had his pilot's license so he was going to fly me to Philadelphia for dinner for our first date.   He became known as Airplane Guy.  [This naming system was developed in order to keep track of the many guys I was meeting on dating web sites.  It was much easier to keep track of them in conversation by describing what they did or a personality flaw trait than by their real name].

We actually never got to fly to Philly.  There were bad storms the night of our first date.  Oh, and there's the whole "are-you-crazy-getting-into-an-airplane-alone-with-a-guy-you've-never-met" thing.

He was a really great guy - funny, smart, interesting.  We had silly conversations and laughed a lot.  There was physical chemistry as well.  Everything was wonderful.  Until about our third date when he wanted to have a talk. 

Here we go...  He's married or he lives with his parents or he is going to Antarctica for 3 years to study the ice.    I never expected what he was about to tell me.  He's a swinger.  You know - the people who attend sex parties and switch partners.  Apparently there is a shortage of female swingers in their "community".  OMG - he wanted to recruit me.  And for a brief moment, I had considered it.  I've been on dozens of dates from the online pool - and let me tell you, the pickins are pretty slim.  Here's a guy who I really like and we have a blast when we're together.  Would it be that horrible to adopt this lifestyle?  Well, naturally I said thanks but no thanks and we went our separate ways.

But as most of my dates do, this became an idea for an episode in the sitcom about my life - That's Our Kelly.

Bluzdude and I have been constructing a sitcom based loosely (or not so loosely) on my life.  This has been going on for about 5 years.  Well we have 10 pages of notes – many of which were originally written on beverage napkins from a local watering hole. 

Here is the synopsis of the Airplane Guy episode.

“Welcome to the Jungle” - A prospective date asks Kelly to a “sex party”.  While revolted, she is strangely curious about what goes on there, and decides to go and investigate.  Her lunch-table friends offer suggestions on how to remain sufficiently undesirable, so to be able to observe, but not be asked to participate.  Kelly mulls over the possibility that her date may be fantasizing about her as he attends these parties.  Cue the harp music and soft focus… Party introduces the concept of the “Unfortunate Safe-word.”  Kelly observes a tragic accident.  “I guess you really have to be careful about choosing a Safe-word”.  “What did they use?”  “Backdoor.” (Or cannonball, sledgehammer, pile driver, thermos, cinderblock, bassinette, fatherhood, … perhaps have outtakes roll over the final credits, using these variations.)  

I often wonder what happened to that guy.  Compared to most of the other guys I’ve dated since, Airplane Guy was a keeper, multiple partners and all.

Alcohol Armaggedon

As most of you know or had experienced, the East coast was hit by a pretty serious thunderstorm on Friday night (called a derecho).   I love thunderstorms.  I find them soothing.   But Friday's storm was anything but. 

I was standing in front of the window watching the sky lights flashing and trees blowing and listening to the cracking of thunder.   It then occurred to me, I probably should be standing away from the window in case a tree comes crashing through.

It only lasted for about 30 or 40 minutes, but caused some serious damage.  My neighborhood was a mess with tree limbs down and lawn chairs blown all over the yards but we still had power. 

I went to Dunkin' Donuts on Saturday morning to get an Iced Coffee and the line was out the door.  I guess people without power were out to get their breakfast.  I then went to the grocery store to get milk and popsicles (I had a 4 year old visitor who was in desperate need of "freezy pops").   All of the power at the store was out, so no refrigerated/frozen items were available.  

Of course, a lot of traffic lights were out at major intersections.   I guess people don't know that you treat out of order traffic lights like a 4-way stop.  It was a major CF on the roads.  The police had set up cones to block people from getting onto the major roads from the side roads.  It was obviously a blockade.  People were driving through the cones anyway.  They needed to go left and THEY WERE GOING TO GO LEFT.  Or maybe they just thought that this was a fun obstacle course set up for their driving entertainment.

I stayed in, with my 4 year old visitor, most of the weekend. 

On Sunday, after my visitor went home, I decided I needed a cold beer.   Although most liquor stores are closed on Sundays, there are a few that I know of that are open.  I was headed to my favorite liquor store - Beltway Liquors.  With the traffic lights out and roads being blocked to avoid accidents (because people can't figure out how to drive) I had to take quite a detour to the liquor store.  Now I don't know if Beltway Liquors is usually closed on Sundays, but it definitely was closed this Sunday.  So off to option #2:  Racer's on Harford Road.  After zigzagging through many more detours, I get there to find they, too, are closed.  No power. 

There is a Royal Farms store down the street from me that sells alcohol (most in Baltimore don't).  I pull up and that store is closed too.  No power.

At this point, I'm starting to realize how a heroin addict might feel trying to get their fix.  The more I couldn't find beer, the more I wanted it.  For a brief second, I had considered looting the liquor store.  But I came to my senses.  I thought about driving to a friend's house - the whole way across town - to get a beer.  She always has beer in her refrigerator.  But the CF on the roads prevented me from doing it, so I went home and had freezy pops instead. 

But I did learn two important things this weekend.  ALWAYS keep beer stocked in the fridge.  And I never want to live in a world without beer. 

Quickest Date Ever

A few nights ago, I had probably the quickest date of my life.  I went back on Plenty of Fish (an online dating site) mostly so I have stories to blog about.  This guy sent me a message a few weeks ago.  We chatted a couple times and then exchanged phone numbers.  We sent a couple text messages and then nothing. 

About a week ago, I got a call from him.  I had programmed him into my phone so I knew who it was.  I didn't answer and he didn't leave a message.  The next day I sent him a text asking if he had called?  He said he did.  Then we exchanged a couple very general text messages - how are you?  great weather, isn't it?  Etc, etc.  

A couple nights ago I get a call from this guy.  I decide to answer.  "Hello" I say.   He says "Hi".  I say "Hello".  I know who it is because I saved the contact , but he doesn't know I know who it is.  This drives me crazy.  I've had this happen before - a person I meet online, whom I've never spoken to, calls for the first time and doesn't identify himself.   Really??  I have very good friends that I talk to on a weekly basis who still identify themselves when calling on the phone.

He asks me if I know who it is.  I tell him the name that I have the number programmed as.  He said he has my number programmed with my name.  Ok, so we’re getting there.  He asked a couple questions and I start to feel that maybe he was getting his "fish" confused.  Sometimes, on these sites, there are multiple people that you’re communicating with and it is hard to keep them straight, especially if 3 of them have the SAME NAME.   (This is why, in talking about my online dates - they get descriptive names like "Airplane Guy" or "Symphony Guy" or "Drunk Guy".   This naming system is an episode in “That’s Our Kelly” - coming to a theatre near you... well maybe someday.) 

So he said he was going to the casino in Delaware Park for the a few hours and he just happens to be passing by where I live.   He asks if I want to go with him.  Well I’m generally a spontaneous person and have a little adventure in me.  So for a brief second I consider it.  But I say no and give a list of  lame reasons – I have to work tomorrow, I just finished mowing the lawn and it would take me forever to get ready, yada, yada, yada.    He said he just pulled over to wait for me.  

Well, I figure if I get to the mall where he was waiting I’d convince him to go for a drink or dinner so we could get to know each other.   Turned out he was meeting a friend at Delaware Park and can’t blow him off.   So we made tentative plans to meet on Thursday, he gave  me a hug and off he went.   I was with him for about 10 minutes.   The quickest date ever. 

He did call later to apologize for being a d**k for not staying and going to dinner.  

Well, I wish the story had a more interesting ending, but after exchanging a couple voice messages, we never talked and never went for a follow-up dinner.  

Such is the dating life of Sitcom Kelly.  (In the outline of the ‘That’s Our Kelly’ show, each episode ends with the name of the guy – in this case Casino Guy – on a headstone in my graveyard of love.)

On next week’s episode... 

And Here It Is

Years ago, while sitting around the lunch table at work, talking about my rather entertaining/chaotic life of dating, friendships, travel and well, just every day existence, my good friend and former co-worker, Bluzdude, thought it would a great idea for me to blog about my adventures.  That was about 3 years ago.  A year after that – I acquired my blog name, server, etc.  (I’m not even sure if this terminology is correct).  Well a year after that and after many years and many more happy hours filled with pleading by Bluz, here it is.  I'm ready to actually press "Publish."

The lunch time conversations – mostly about my adventures in dating – became the foundation for a sitcom about ME.  Bluz brilliantly drafted an Episode Ideas document about the sitcom and after about 4 years now, I think we have enough material to really pitch the idea to Hollywood .  And I think it would be a success, too... I know I laugh every time I read the notes.  And heaven knows how many times we've seen our ideas used on other sitcoms that appeared since the document's creation. 

But back to the blog.  One of my favorite shows is "30 Rock," featuring one of my favorite characters/actors, Liz Lemon/Tina Fey.  One of my favorite lines from Liz Lemon is “and there it is”.  It comes from the episode where Liz is at an ex-boyfriend's wedding and she meets a guy that has so much potential until he mentions a group he's in called the fluffies.  Liz's response:  And there it is...

Well after that episode, it seemed that catch phrase appeared everywhere.  But I still loved it   So when I was looking for a blog name, I thought it would be perfect if it was called “And there it is”.  It was so applicable to my life.  Everytime time something seemed right, the “And there it is moment” was only a moment away. Well wouldn’t you know, it was already taken… by someone who hadn’t posted anything either!  (Imagine that…).   So I decided to name my blog after our sitcom – That’s Our Kelly.   When typed all together it became: thatsourkelly, which could be taken as “Thats Our Kelly”  OR  "That Sour Kelly."  While the latter is probably more appropriate, it fits either way.
 

Every time Bluz and I get together for a happy hour or a baseball game or even if it is just an exchange of emails, I always hear “See, this would be a great blog” or “That's an episode”.   

So given that we don't know any Hollywood producers, nor do I want to move to California and starve to death while I hawk a partially written script idea, I figured I'd tell my stories for you here, on a blog, commercial-free.

Great, now Bluz wants me to go out there, just to provide fodder for more episodes... But I think my life here is crazy enough...

You'll see.