It’s Memorial Day.  I just came home from a fun girl’s weekend in the Napa Valley, and I’m cuddled up in my bed with a big bottle of water and a fuzzy head from a weekend full of laughs, lots of wine and nothing but good, old-fashioned girlfriend time.

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It couldn’t have come at a better weekend because this month has been a little rough as I continued to surf the treacherous waves of online dating.  Before I left for Napa I decided to officially delete my online accounts and put my “surfboard” away.  The dating disasters continued after the first round of crazies back in January (see my last blog post on Dating Disasters).  From a guy who had a love affair with his workouts (and his beer) to this guy who sent me this text message:

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I sent him a link to the 50 Shades of Grey book and told him if I wanted to read this kind of crap I’d just open the book (and proceeded to block his number).

I must admit, I told a little white lie:  I kept one online dating account for the mere fact that I love to send screen shots of silly profile pictures to my friends for a good laugh.  Pictures of the quintessential mirror selfies; apparently, men think it’s sexy to take topless shots in front of a bathroom or gym mirror (what they don’t realize is we’re sitting behind our phone screens laughing at them because they are ALL doing this).  And why do men think it’s cool to get tribal tattoos up and down their arms and across their chests?  Are they all getting together after their gym workouts to sacrifice animals and conduct rain dances around fires?  Do their tribal tattoos represent that they are the “basic bitches” of men?  Instead of a puffy vest, riding boots, hair extensions and a Starbucks in hand, they ink up their bodies in black swirls and flex their ‘roided up veins in front of a mirror.  Their silly little heads, big chests and small calves amuse me and I’m not getting rid of that kind of entertainment!

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The night I decided to cleanse myself of Internet dating filth, I had a dream about my late husband.  This wasn’t the first time I dreamt about him, but in the past, he had come to me in my dreams as someone who either wanted nothing to do with me or he didn’t know who I was.  But not in this dream; this was different from any I ever had.  In my dream, I picked up the phone to call him after not speaking with him for a long time and he picked up the phone like he was excited to talk to me.  I heard his voice; it was soft, sincere and he was happy to hear from me.  Suddenly, a major earthquake hit and my phone flew out of my hand.  The force of the shaking threw me to the ground and I blacked out.  When I woke up I was under a freeway overpass in the arms of a big man with a long beard and he was holding a shot gun.  He told me not to be scared and he would protect me from harm.  I desperately tried to call my husband back but I couldn’t get through to him.  I suddenly woke up and I was breathing heavy and I began to sob.  As sad as I was, I am truly convinced this was a sign telling me that he wants me to slow down.  He wanted me to realize that I should never allow loneliness to cause me to settle.   He always told me how extraordinary he thought I was and how he felt that I didn’t’ love myself enough.  After his passing I tried to do this, but it becomes hard to like yourself when you allow a stranger to question your worth.  After this dream, it just reinforced the fact that I won’t allow myself to lower my standards because I’m afraid to be alone.  If I know someone isn’t right for me then I refuse to pretend like they are.  Too many times we ignore what we know because of what we want.  Being single and “lonely” will always beat being in a relationship and miserable.  I need to take care of my heart and to make sure I don’t give it up to just anybody.  My dream was a reminder of that.

This weekend I fed my soul with music, laughter and tears.  I attended BottleRock, an annual music festival in the Napa Valley that’s 3 full days of amazing food, wine and great music.  I went with two of my girlfriends which is the perfect medicine for a broken heart:

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We laughed, we cried but most of all we just celebrated life and what it has to offer.  It’s amazing how tragedy can open your eyes to simple, beautiful things that you may not have noticed before.  I watched a sign language aide signing to deaf people who were lost in the music and dancing their hearts away; I witnessed many couples entranced in the music with their arms around each other just celebrating life; I looked up to the sky many times and smiled knowing how much my husband and I shared a love for music (especially live music).  I laughed with my girlfriends to the point where a cried about silly things that were even sillier through our laughter; I smiled a lot and listened to the lyrics of songs I didn’t necessarily know until I just took the time to listen.  Below is one I’d love to share with you (it embraces how we need to take time to smell the roses in this rat race we live in everyday):

Here’s to settling down again one day, but never settling.  Now THAT is music to my ears!