Pizza, Pizza, Pizza!

Another Derby has come and gone and now my sector of the world has a collective hangover because we go back to being small town USA again.  For two weeks though we were the cat’s ass and I’m even looking forward to it more next year because I’ll have Sloane to take to the Thunder over Louisville firework show and have her on Derby day.  As previously mentioned, I was at mentioned I was at my own little party yesterday, and as usual for one day a year I think I know what in the hell I’m doing when it comes to handicapping horses.

My business model for handicapping usually starts out with much too overheard but after a series of bad transactions it consistently loses money most years.  This year was no different I ended up about $30.00 in arrears after it was all said and done.  Money well spent, I couldn’t spend that kind of coin and have that much fun anywhere else.  The pork butt went over very well and was pretty damn tasty if I do say so myself.  The weather was an A++++++, and at the end of the day, American Pharaoh took home the blanket of roses.

When learning of the winner of the races Hammy thought that sounded like a good name for a camel and was looking up odds on camel races in the Middle East.  Hammy was rather disappointed I didn’t spend any time with him yesterday, but evidently he was calling in action all day yesterday through his various KGB contacts.  Informed me to be looking in the mail this week for a box of Apple Jacks and Honey Nut Cheerios, claiming that is what he netted yesterday.  Um……OK little rodent if you really think so.  I made it up today with him by catching up the mighty backlog of shows on the DVR.  He and I caught up on The Americans today while I was in the midst of wrestling laundry, and making sure that no socks became freshly single today.  Mission accomplished and just two episodes left of season three of The Americans that I plan on knocking out later.

Today wasn’t all about recovery, TV, and laundry, though.  Mr. Skipah had himself a lunch date!  Olive skinned 20-year-old fitness model from Costa Rica.  I may have made that up, but yes I did have a lunch date.  It was pleasant ninety minutes at a local pizzeria, and I’m pretty sure there will be another date in the future.  The funny thing was I wasn’t even nervous today, three months ago I would have been calling everyone I know looking for advice, pointers, etc.  Today nobody even knew I had a date until they read this or I talked to them.

We met online (because you know that’s the way to do it anymore) been chatting for about a week and voila we were eating pizza today.  Even if the date went bad (it didn’t) who can complain when you get to eat gourmet pizza!  Months into this online dating thing I’ve learned a few things that will still absolutely crack me up:

The Gold Digger

High school education or equivalent, three or more kids, salary less than 30K, and seeking man with a Bachelor’s Degree and a six figure income.  Good luck sunshine, you better look like a super model and have “other” talents if you think someone is going to fall for the shtick.

The Scott County crowd

Immediately nixed.  It’s the county north of me not a long drive by any means, but when your little podunk county has made the national news I’m just going to move along. Scott County is akin to playing Russian roulette these days.  Read this article if you would like to learn more.

The Professional

Been doing this online thing for far too long.  Lists of demands on her profile that would warn off somebody who just spent 20 years in prison.  We are all single for a reason, it becomes rather clear why you are in less than five minutes.

I’ll write more for another day on the topic as this is only a smattering of the types of people you find online.  In Sloane news today she missed softball practice today that was scheduled for 6:00 P.M.  I would blame the weather (80 degrees and sunny), but Sloane insisted she didn’t want to go.  I find this hard to believe but she is seven and easily crafted questions could change her mind I’m sure.  Pisses me off because I was planning on attending (well within my right) and the fact her mother didn’t make her go anyway.  To be good at anything it takes practice.  While I don’t think I’m raising a softball prodigy, I want her to be a prodigy in life and some days we have to practice/study even if we don’t want to.  Installing the “you don’t have to practice if you don’t want to” mentality is only going to be harmful in other facets of life down the road.

These are problems that arise when you have two parents that hate each other (I tried), but hey since I wasn’t notified of her skipping practice tonight until after the fact that’s just another IPTG violation she can defend.  Funniest thing about yesterday was filling in the blanks about my divorce with curious parents that my daughter goes to school with.  Actions truly do speak louder than words and I learned that first-hand yesterday.  I’m flawed but who in the hell isn’t, I look out for one person other than me now.  I’ve written on here countless times about Sloane’s mother and the team of “experts” that said our current custody arrangement is best for Sloane.  I call BULLSHIT on that, I’ve got true blue teacher friends now that say otherwise, I’ve got community leaders that call that ridiculous, divorced moms, with blended families really just about anybody that has gone through life with kids will tell you it’s bullshit.  Four days and a couple of hours on holiday weekends are all I get my daughter this month.  I’m powerless to do anything about, but I’m allowed to see her at school and softball when I don’t have her.

So I guess now the new plan of attack from her mom is to withhold her from softball practice, I guess the bliss of being engaged trumps parenting.  I wouldn’t know, but trust me if ever I am again engaged again, Sloane will always be priority number one no matter what her age is.  It’s called parenting for a reason, I had plenty of fun yesterday but being told by numerous people to keep doing what you’re doing was an affirmation also.  I’m doing nothing special I’m being a frigging dad when I’m allowed to!