Atlanta, an Alcoholic & Almost Girl

I'm not dead! Just very busy.

Thank you, everyone, for your thoughts and prayers for GP. She is doing a lot better now and should be going home at the end of the week. I appreciate your concern and sympathies. I think I'm going to make some cookies for them and mail them up there.

I was in Atlanta most of last week. I had to go to a conference. My hotel was right near here and here. So I took some time to do some window shopping in these ultra-swanky malls.

I bought a super cute purse (sorry, can't find a pic), but otherwise, it was easy to avoid temptation in a mall where prices start at $200. If I had the money, I would have bought something at this store because everything in there was SO me. But prices there started at about $350. Ouch. So purchasing stuff there will have to wait until I marry Julian McMahon.

Y'all, have you tried these new fancy beds they have in hotels now? Holy cow, they have a good thing going on with these beds. You sit on them and you're like, "Oh, wow, gosh, this is really comfzzzzzzzzzzzz............." and four hours later, you wake up. I highly recommend these beds. I am so getting one when Julian and I get married. Complete with their zillion-thread-count sheets. Then he and I can hump like rabbits in total Egyptian cotton bliss.

So....you are going to love this post. Because I have so much to share. (Shocker!!)

Let's start with Wednesday's blind date. Blonde set me up with a guy who is about 32, 33--somewhere in that range. She described him as a "cute partier", which, to my naive brain meant "fun and smoochable".

Because I had a lot of extra time to get ready, I decided to go all-out: black pencil skirt, fitted white stretchy top, metallic stilettos and smoky eye makeup. I even had time to put hot rollers in my hair, and DAMN I had a good hair day. Seriously. Top 5 hair days of all time.

Feeling very confident, I went to the bar where I was meeting up with Blonde, her boyfriend and my date. When they arrived, I have to say, I was a little disappointed. I had forgotten that Blonde's definition of "cute partier" was vastly different than mine. Apparently the "cute" part meant "not cute" and the "partier" part meant "alcoholic".

Between meeting up with me at the bar and then literally getting up to walk to our table, my date had polished off a vodka & water. I'm talking less than 5 minutes, here, peeps. He had another one immediately afterwards. So he had downed two of these in about 15 minutes. Now, it's been a long time since I've drunk alcohol, but it seems to me that vodka & water would be a rough combination, especially on an empty stomach--it was 9pm and he hadn't had any dinner. When the waitress came over to ask him if he wanted a 3rd vodka & water, I realized what was happening, and my jaw literally dropped. I thought he was still on his first drink!

I think he saw my reaction, because he switched to beer. Now, I know people get nervous on dates, especially blind dates. But this guy had alcoholic written all over him. He gave me a very hard time about the fact that I don't drink (always a sign, trust me). Every story he told involved drinking. He talks veeeeeeeerrrrrry slowly, to the point that he sounds stupid. I knew a guy like that once, in college. He was probably the biggest partier I'd ever met. So I know that his speech pattern was probably a result of years of heavy drinking and probably a lot of pot smoking, too.

You would think that his personality would improve with the alcohol consumption, but it didn't. He was boring and not funny. He just became quieter and quieter as he drank. Seriously, I could have had a V-8. It was bad. And seeing as how I dated a guy last year with questionable reactions to alcohol consumption, I'm not about to start dating another one. I am really over dating frat boys who never grew up. I am tired of the big partiers. I want a stable, mature man.

When he asked if he could take me to dinner sometime, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from retorting, "Why? Because this is going so well?" But instead, I just replied flatly, "No. I'm sorry." He appreciated my honesty and then I excused myself and went home, all the while, wondering what in the hell Blonde was thinking by setting me up with him, and frustrated for wasting a good hair day.

As I pulled into my driveway, I realized with excitement that Hot Neighbor was pulling into his driveway at the same time. This was my big chance for him to see me looking nice for once. I got out and started walking to my door. He ran over to me. "Hey, girl. What's going on? You look great!"

Suh-weet. "This could not be better timing," I thought.

I told him about my lame date, and he sympathized. "How old was is?" he asked. "Oh, about 32 or 33. Somewhere in there," I answered.

"Gah, he's making us look bad!" he replied. And I thought, "Mmmm....no, not really....."

Looking back, I should have told him to set me up with a better 33-year-old....dang. Hate it when you think of good stuff to say only after it's too late!

Then he asked me about my super-secret project, and I told him I was basically aborting mission and thinking of an alternate route to my goal. (Sorry, I can't be more specific...) He told me he could help me by putting me in touch with the right people for an alternate plan I have considered in the past. He's going to drop off a list of names and numbers for me, hopefully soon.( Of course, he's obviously trying to figure out how he can see me again. Duh.)

We chatted some about our jobs and my dogs before parting ways.

By the time I went inside, he had told me I looked really great THREE times. He totally checked me out. Woot!!!!

Oh, and I asked him last Tuesday if he would take my trash can down to the curb on Friday, since I would be in Atlanta when the trash men came. He remembered. That scored some points with me, definitely. Gotta love a reliable guy. They are few and far between. Lord knows what I've had to deal with in the past...

Looking back, I should have asked him to get my mail for me, too, because then I would have an excuse to go knocking on his door....shoot. I'm not very good of thinking of the best thing to say at the time. It's because he makes me all nervous and jittery.

Did I mention that he knocked on my door the other day and I answered, wearing only a towel? Gosh. Hate when that happens. I had just gotten out of the shower and dried my hair. No makeup on yet, but I figured the "just a towel" factor sort of counter-acted that. He was asking me about K and if she had moved out. I told him she had. He said he would let me know if he knew anyone who would be interested in moving in with me. I realized only after it was too late that the whole time he was talking, I was, without realizing it, smiling and biting my lower lip. Yeesh. I am ridiculous.

Of course, in my head, the story kinda ends more like this: I "accidentally" drop my towel and he ends up pushing me against the wall and making me very, very late for dinner. Tee hee.

*pauses to imagine situation*

Ok, now that that's overwith....

Rob Thomas never called. Yeah. I feel pretty let down. It is kind of surprising to me, because I would have bet big bucks I had that in the bag. I totally got the whole, "Oh, we are so going to start dating now," thought in my brain. I have never been wrong with that gut feeling before. But there's a first time for everything. On Friday night I talked to his roommate, B, about it at Happy Hour.

"I think he's still hung up on his ex. They broke up last July and he was pretty devastated. She still calls him and leads him on," he explained.

"Are you kidding me???" I said in disbelief.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, VB. That's the only reason I can think of. But I think he's making a huge mistake, and I do think you two would be really good together. I could tell y'all had a good time, and he even said he had a good time. I just think that maybe he's not over his ex. He and I didn't talk about why he never called you, but that's what I think is going on," he said.

"I hate his ex-girlfriend, VB. Seriously, all his friends hate her. He's being an idiot," E chimed in. (Remember, my friend E is dating B, and they have been trying to get me hooked up with Rob Thomas for weeks.)

Soon after, as I was leaving with E, I proceeded to have a total meltdown. Feeling totally frustrated and rejected, I started crying in public. Right at the front door of the bar. Awesome. Love it when I do this. "That's it, E! I'm not dating anymore! I am so OVER this! I am done. Do you see? Do you see why I don't date? I can never catch a break. I'm always the runner-up girl. The 'almost' girl. Hot Neighbor almost asked me out once. Cute guys almost talk to me. The Magician almost called me. [Ok, I don't know if he ever considered calling me, but to my rejection-fueled brain, this made sense at the time.] Rob Thomas and I almost started dating. I am sick of it!" I bawled.

Of course, as luck would have it, B walked up right in the middle of this meltdown. I know he won't say anything to Rob, but still. I didn't want him to think I was so upset about all of this. And I wasn't -- I had been driving in Atlanta/Columbia traffic all day and had been running around like a chicken since I had gotten up that morning. I was exhausted. When I'm exhausted, I cry. To be honest, I had no business even going out on Friday. Stubbing my toe, contemplating world peace or talking about Paris Hilton's jail time would have made me cry, too. My tears were just looking for an excuse to make an appearance. B&E sat with me and calmed me down. They said a lot of things that made me feel better. (My favorite? "He's making a huge mistake."-- I love hearing that.) I took some deep breaths and got in my car and drove home.

It's nice that they are pulling for me. They were worried that I would not feel comfortable hanging out at B's house, since Rob would be there. I told them it's ok and that I would be fine. They want to have a cookout soon, and they really want me to go. I will go, but I just have to make sure I look smokin' hot and bring something totally delicious (toffee cheesecake??). I don't think it will be too awkward. I will be nice to him. But distant.

After all this, I think I may officially give up entirely on dating. When you look back on your dating history and realize that every ex-boyfriend is worse than the last, that's not good. When you are getting set up with alcoholics, I think that is a sign you might want to just throw in the towel. And sure, Hot Neighbor checked me out. But that's a long way from asking me out. (Remember, I am "almost girl"). I'm sure Wednesday Skank is still on the scene (although, I haven't seen her in a while...). And yes, it is nice that Rob and I hit it off, but it's obviously never going to happen. I am tired of dating guys who seem nice at first, only to throw me onto an emotional rollercoaster and hurt me. It's soooo much easier to just be alone. I hate being Almost Girl. I'm tired of it. It's better to be Alone Girl.