What’s a girl to do when the entire (original) impetus for her blog has been eliminated?  For those of you who have followed The Anomalous Life from the beginning, you know the basic, underlying reason for my musings.  In fact, you might even recall the origin of this blog’s very name.  Think about it…The Anomalous Life.  It was a name coined after one of many encounters with fine folks who could not, for the life of them, understand why (their words, not mine) “an intelligent, attractive, seemingly normal woman” (ha), could find herself single while staring down the latter half of her 30s. 

This fairly consistent barrage from perplexed (but mostly well-meaning) souls finally spurred me to combine my love of writing with a deep seated need to prove to the world:  I may be single, but I am happy, fulfilled, and doing just fine on my damn own.  And the stories.  Lordy Lou the stories only a single woman of a certain age can pass on (with very little exaggeration).  It was an endless well of blog fodder.  And then…out of the blue…with no forewarning….

WHAM!

I met him.  I’ll spare you all the details of our first encounter (I do have male readers), but suffice to say, there was no “trial period” of dating…no questions of feelings…no games to reel one or the other in.  We met.  We fell.  Done. 

It all sounds quite romantic, doesn’t it?  For the most part, it is pretty sweet.  For those of us who have been in love - we know of the roses, sweet cards and sore smile muscles, but we also know the other side…the reality of day-to-day life.  Has it been too long since I called him?  God, I hope he fixed the low water pressure in the kitchen sink.  It’s been two days since I put on make-up.  He looks best when he rolls out of bed.  I, on the other hand, do not.  And for the woman who made a name out of staying single, I sometimes mourn total independence.  When I have three zits and monster menstrual cramps, I want to be alone.  I want to spend 45 minutes in the bathroom (with the door open) attacking those nasty blemishes - without concern that my boyfriend will call 9-1-1 when he catches a glimpse of me and fears I’ve come down with some horrible pox disease.  And sometimes I wanna wear my grandma panties.  Don’t act like you don’t have them.

Here’s the kicker.  These issues…they’re all my concerns.  With absolutely no merit.  Stephen is kind and caring, he adores me when I’m decked out in a hot dress and rockin’ heels, and he adores me just as much with greasy hair and yoga pants with a hole in the ass.  If I have an overwhelming need to put on a face mask to clean out my pores, he does it with me.  And then we make funny faces at each other, howl with laughter, prematurely crack the drying masks, and as the tears stream down our faces (creating a creepy clown-like effect), he gives me a kiss and asks what I want for dinner.

When I was single, after another encounter with someone more concerned with my dating status than I was, a good friend said to me:  “You know Nikki, I don’t worry about you.  I know, with you, when it happens, it will be right…it will be good…and he will be amazing.”  She was right.  I think it’s something I always knew myself, which is why I was (for the most part) so unconcerned with my sometimes uneventful love life.  But it was still an adjustment.  And after a year, I seem to be getting the hang of it.  Much of this semi-smooth transition has to do with the understanding, patient man at my side, but it also has to do with me.  I stuck to my guns.  I held out for what I deserved.  When I feel that familiar twinge of total independence knocking at my gut, I now realize - I have that.  No one is holding me back.  No one is forcing me to stay in this relationship.  I’m here because I want to be.  And if I want to spend some time away with the girls, he pushes me out the door, kisses me goodbye and then later, welcomes me home with open arms and a fully-functioning kitchen sink.

I used to worry that a committed relationship meant boredom.  What I’ve found is that the interesting, new, sometimes challenging and ever-exciting times in my life have doubled - if not tripled.  Stephen is a musician.  He is passionate, driven and full of life.  Our life together is fulfilling and full of promise.  His band is good.  I mean, really good.  Let’s be honest, they’re great - and I’m holding back here.  Things are happening.  Likely big things.  This will mean weeks, maybe even months at a time without him.  In my wildest, pre-relationship dreams, this would have been my best-case-scenario.  Time together, time alone.  Independence within a relationship.  How can you beat that?  Well, if you love someone, and you want to be with them, this could prove to be challenging.  I will likely handle it better than most, but I know I will have my moments.  There will be tears and longing.  But there will also be appreciation and time will be made the most of.  And there will be stories.  So many stories.  Stories that I believe you will enjoy just as much as I will.

My point is this, concern about blog fodder, or the lack thereof, is silly.  There are endless moments I could have shared with you during my long hiatus.  But I didn’t.  There are many more to come, and I will no longer keep you in the dark.  I will again bring you all the craziness that surrounds my life, along with some everyday moments that we all share.  I hope you will join me often and pass on your own little stories and anecdotes to life’s little challenges.

On another note, I just wrote a little freelance article for a great new Houston website called “The Loop Scoop” (www.theloopscoop.com).  It’s on one of my favorite musicians, Ian Moore.  Take a peek at it…I think you might enjoy the little ditty on how I originally “discovered” his music.  And keep heading back to The Loop Scoop often. It’s a wonderful site for those living in Houston, or visiting, and looking for something fun to do.

Thanks for coming back to see me and affording me time during this interesting transition period in my life.  I hope to see you again real soon!

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