Never never never again

Holy crap it's hot today! I went for a road bike ride this morning but dilly dallied and ended up leaving at 9:30 instead of 8. Which meant I returned at 1230 instead of 11. And that hour and a half is when the earth decided to heat up like my ceramic stovetop. By the time I got home I was seeing stars since I hadn't TOTALLY planned to ride in that much heat. I brought water and gatorade but only 1 gel — and that packet of 100 calories definitely wasn't enough to get me through.

Although if I had left when I intended I wouldn't have talked to Chatti who had left a message for me to call her. It sounded fairly urgent so I was surprised when I got the question: "a lady in my ward wants to know if you are interested in going out with her son." Wow. Not what I was expecting. I told Chatti my only requirements for being set up on a date were that he have a job and not be a serial killer. She then told me that she didn't think he was a serial killer but he was between jobs, although he has several commercial properties and therefore has a steady source of income. Then she asked the question: "how tall are you?" Bummer. You know that means he's a shorty. And sure enough he's 5'6" — which really means he's 5'5". I've gone out on enough dates by now to know the code. Josh (an ex-BF who was not the best relationship choice, btw. I still wonder how that all happened...) always said he was 5'5" and he was maybe 5'4". When he was wearing tall shoes.

Anyway, Chatti then mentioned he is only here for a month. This seems to be happening a lot lately. Me getting set up with people who don't live in Utah or are in the process of moving someplace else, I mean. Last weekend I went camping with my family and my brother Jim came to me as soon as I arrived at the campsite and said, "I don't know if you feel comfortable talking about this in front of the entire family," which naturally made everyone stop what they were doing and turn to listen to this conversation, "but how do you feel about younger men?" My sister was closest and she said "Jill doesn't mind talking about THAT! Sheesh" Which is true. And then all my siblings started discussing Spencer (aka the VNB) and how incredible it was that I actually went out with someone who wants to train for the circus. My mother had kindly shared all the date details with my nearest and dearest. (As a side note, when I called to tell my mom about my date with Spencer she literally laughed uncontrollably for 5 minutes after I told her about his circus aspirations and then asked if I was thinking of getting back together with Bret who was now looking like a serious prize. >sigh<>

Wow, I'm digressing. AND wordy! Sheesh! I'm blaming the heat... Anywho, Jim then told me he wanted to set me up with his wife's nephew who was somewhere around 25 years old. After I made a face about his age the count went up ("no wait I think he might be 28. . ."). And he lives in Orem and is moving in a couple months. But I'm not complaining. People are very nice to think of me and you never know what will happen.

Speaking of Spencer the VNB, he's called a few times and I've stopped answering his calls. Judge me if you like, I'm judging myself a bit. It feels slightly immature but I don't think he'd be happy to hear the truth: "um, Spencer? Talking to you is entirely exhausting and I have to pump myself up to answer the phone." No one wants to hear that! So I'm saving us both some heart ache and pain.

Anyway, blah blah blah. On to the title of this post: I finished my deck! And it was a horribly awful and torturous process. The stain I chose says it's guaranteed for 5 years. Let me just tell you, in 5 years when it needs to be redone I will either be moving or hiring someone to do it for me. Blech!!! I'd rather repaint my entire house again! >shudder<>

My mostly sanded deck ready to be stained

And the end result!

Bea approved my choice of color

Now I'm off to get ready for my first BBQ! Little Bea and her sisters (and Meredith and Dave) are coming for dinner and I've got some errands to run beforehand so I'd better get going . . .