The 5 Ps

Wow, I haven't posted in a while. Let me see if I can sum up stuff:

Parenting -- The Czarina, a good friend of the family and my favorite aunt came down to visit me a few weeks ago. There was much shopping and laughing and dating advice (directed at me, of course). They all harped on me for being too picky and judgmental and for writing off guys before I even meet them. I countered with the fact that I refuse to settle and vow to keep my standards high. Therefore, no, I am not interested in flirting with guys who I can tell are not smart. I am tired of meeting cute guys who have nothing between their ears. I want someone who can stimulate me intellectually. They were baffled by this and can't believe I am not flirting like crazy with the hot (and yes, ok, they are hot) firemen across the street. But show me the fireman who can talk about politics, philosophy or anthropology! They don't exist! As soon as I make out with one, and my hormones get all stimulated, I will begin justifying all their flaws and end up in a dead end relationship. My mother and aunt disagreed completely and told me I was being judgmental. Am I? Probably. So I promised them I would try and be more open-minded.

Pressure -- We had a big re-org at work about 2 weeks ago. It was pretty crazy. The Gorilla got fired (thank goodness -- he was so toxic!). I know it sounds like I am taking pleasure from another's misfortune, and well, ok, I guess I am a little. Wrong, I know. But mostly, I am just relieved, as I'm sure he is. He was such a bad fit and he was miserable. So, this was really better for everyone. We also had to lay off one girl, which was NOT part of the original plan. We felt really badly about it. Now New Girl (my other half at work -- seriously, I love this girl) and I are working with a skeleton crew. It's going to be bumpy and stressful for a bit, but I think we will get there. There are a few people who now have totally new jobs and have to be trained from scratch -- so it's a little wonky at the moment. Luckily, there was minimal drama and most people are happy or they at least understand why we did what we did. Some people even got promotions, so that is good. Man, I am glad that is over. It was all I thought about for 2 months.

Peppy -- I have 2 new neighbors. One I will call Peppy. She lives across the hall from me and even though my coworkers call me Susie Sunshine, even I can barely handle this girl's too-happy and perky personality. She minors in performing arts, so she sings all the time. While she is a talented singer, it's kind of annoying. I sing when I'm alone, too, but quietly. This girl belts it out. And it's usually show tunes or cheesy romantic songs. Argh. As if this wasn't bad enough, she found a dog on the side of the road, and I'm worried she is going to keep it. This dog barks. And barks and barks and barks. Then it whines and whines and whines. Any time Peppy is not home or asleep, let the barking and whining begin. Kind of annoying. For some unexplainable reason, she thinks I am interested in being friends. Which is fine. But she found me on Facebook and friended me. What the heck?! I can't deny the request -- I will see her soon enough. I hate being pressured into being FB friends. (That goes for you, too, you weird cousin of mine!!!) Sorry, I have a weird cousin. I try to deny the friendship requests, but they keep coming. Luckily, he lives in South America, so it's a lot easier to deny him....sorry, now I am off-topic.

Miss Perfect -- I have another new neighbor who lives upstairs. I will call her Miss Perfect. Obviously, she is not perfect, but I certainly can't see any flaws: she looks like a supermodel (she doesn't even need to wear makeup, y'all, it's kind of sick), she's really in shape (triathalons are her main hobby -- what?!), her apartment is gorgeous (makes mine look like a dorm room) and she's smart (she has a PhD in Psychology). She has no debt, other than her car. Yeah. Oh, and did I mention that she is incredibly nice, friendly and has a fun personality? And that she thinks I am cool? Yeah. This girl is unreal. To make her even more awesome, she is my age AND single. Yeah. Believe it or not, this chick is single. Don't get me wrong, she has already met someone after living here for only 3 weeks. But she's not that into him. Something she can totally afford to do.

In short, she's the girl I hate to love. I hate her. But I can't, 'cause she's really nice and cool. So I have to admit that I like her. Even though I feel like I have just been slimed by the Envy Monster. *sigh* And my feelings of inadequacy are causing me to wonder why she wants to hang out with me. Because she's new in town and doesn't know anyone? Probably. I predict I will be friend-dumped as soon as she finds someone more worthy to hang out with. Wow, I am cynical today, aren't I?

My first inclination that she and I come from two different worlds was when I confessed to her that I have put on a lot of weight in the last few years, but that I was trying to make some changes and get back in shape (I first met her as I was coming back inside from a run). "Oh, I know what you mean. I am in love with junk food, too. Last week, I ate an ENTIRE watermelon. And that's basically just sugar." I was totally speechless. How many calories are in an entire watermelon? Like, 100? I decided to stay mum about my ability to eat two candy bars in one sitting, as I proved to myself a week ago. Wow. Talk about feeling like a loser. Who is this girl???

I'm trying to use her as inspiration. You see, she is super optimistic about her love life -- something that is very refreshing to my pessimistic, cynical view of the opposite sex. She is not giving up, but trying harder. She's one of those super goal-oriented people. And I have to admit, it's kind of awesome. "Ok, your goal is to get a date for this coming weekend," she said to me yesterday over coffee. "Um, yeah! Ok!" I replied, while thinking, "Yeah, right, lady. I'm overweight and my self-esteem isn't the greatest. I have essentially resigned myself to living alone for ever and wouldn't be able to attract Weird Al Yankovic right now." But somehow, she talked me into signing up for eHarmony. And I'm super broke right now (long story). But I did it anyway. This girl is not taking no for an answer. She wore me down. She's right. I can't give up. I have to keep trying.

Positive Attitude -- So, if nothing else, Miss Perfect is giving me a swift kick in my ass. Which is probably exactly what I need. Here's to hoping that some of her perfection and optimism rubs off on me. Let the games begin!

Now Taking Requests

I know things have been a little ho-hum around this blog lately. But never fear, dear readers, as I have a fun post today.

No, nothing really exciting happened. Unless you count the fact that I got out of going to The Czarina's for Thanksgiving. (YESSSSSSSS!!!, complete with a victory arm thrust) I was originally going to go up, because my most favoritest aunt was coming, too. But it turns out that she can't go, and since The Czarina feels guilty when I come home for Thanksgiving, she told me not to worry about driving up.

Gee, twist my arm.

I was really looking forward to your repeated and nagging comments about how fat I am. Or your oh-so-subtle digs implying I could find a better boyfriend. Or remind me of how miserable I am in my job. Because what are the holidays for, if not to make you feel bad about yourself? As much as I'd love to have a big plate, piled high with thick slabs of passive aggresiveness, steamed repressed emotions, a side of control freak stuffing, some you-are-a-fuck-up casserole and a glob of smashed happiness, smothered in guilt gravy and sprinkled with denial and delusion, I think I'll pass.

I swear to God, I love my mother. Just not these last few weeks. This bitterness is a temporary phase. I will go back to loving her shortly. Hopefully, before Christmas. That would be nice.

She feels like Thanksgiving weekend is too short of a time to drive 6 hours each way. "I know that I would not want to drive 6 hours to see you, only to turn around basically the next day and drive 6 hours back. I mean, that's a long weekend, where you spend 2 days driving," she always says. "So don't worry about it. Thanksgiving is not a big deal to me. I will just see you at Christmas."

Every year, when she says this, I think, "And THAT is why I live 6 hours away from you!"

For those of you who also have guilt-tripping, semi-manipulative mothers who try to warp your brain, right now you are thinking, "Um, VB, that sounds vaguely like a test. Methinks she is doing some reverse psychology on your ass, and she is secretly pissed at you for not driving up to see her."

To which I reply: It may very well be a test. But until she stops making me feel like a fat loser every time I visit her, I feel it's only fair that I get to, in turn, play dumb to her stupid little games and attempts at manipulating me. Fair enough?

Besides, now I am going with CN to have turkey day w/his family. And although they have issues of their own, as an outsider, I get to smile, pretend I don't know what's really going on and just ask people to please pass the mac n cheese. I offered to cook all the sides for Mrs. N (CN's Mom), since she's now back at work AND taking care of her sick husband. But she refused to hear of it, and told me that she only needed help in the pie department. So I am in charge of pies. Which is right up my alley, of course. (I'm going to make pumpkin and a pecan, in case you're curious.) I feel really good about helping her out, and wish I could do more for her and Mr. N.

In case you cannot tell by now, I have been a little pissy lately. Don't know why. Probably PMS. But I kind of like it. It's coming in really handy at the gym. CN has to bear the brunt of my ventings, lately, and he is quite amused. So don't sympathize with him. He uses my rantings as opportunities to make fun of me, which only irritates me further. If he weren't so damn cute and funny, he'd be on my shit list, too. But I can't stay mad at him, because he always leaves me laughing at myself. ARGH! That totally takes the wind out of my pissy little sails! I hate it when he does that!

On to the point of this post, which is this: Today, I was a good girl and tried to catch up on a lot of my blogs. So many of you have nice little comments from yours truly. But now I am ready to blog, too. The problem is, I have several potential blog topics for tomorrow. So I am taking requests. Which blog topic sounds most appealing to you?

#1: How The Czarina is trying her best to make Smurf feel like she is too stupid to get into college, and that Smurf should just let The Czarina pick her school for her and how I am doing everything in my power to remind Smurf that The Czarina sucks like that and that Smurf has excellent credentials and that since Smurf is going to be paying for the tuition herself (thank you, Federal School Loans), then she (NOT MOM) should get to pick where she goes to school.
Upside: I am pissy, especially at my mother, so this post would have lots of juicy venting.
Downside: It is depressing a little bit to think about how controlling my mother is.

#2: Holiday-related topic, whether Thanksgiving, shopping or Christmas related theme. Details TBA. Possibly a meme.
Upside: Who doesn't love some good holiday cheer? Memes are short entries, a good thing since we are all busy.
Downside: It's nothing to get excited about. Unless you really enjoy helping me come up with present ideas. Or hijacking memes for your own blogging pleasure.

#3: My new pothead neighbor
Upside: Pissy mood could lead to funny ranting. This topic also (vaguely) connected to Hot Neighbor, for those of you who remember this guy.
Downside: Ranting my go on too long to retain interest in my readers. New Pothead Neighbor is a real piece of work.

#4: The Story of My Last Irritating Encounter with E, My Recent Ex-Roommate, followed up by a rant/editorial about how pathetic certain women are and why.
Upside: Yay! More pissiness and bitching!!! Also, an ode to German cooking (trust me, it all fits into the story)
Downside: More pissiness and bitching. Nausea from the pathetic woman part.

#5: Ipod/computer confusion and/or issues.
Upside: First pick for my computer geek readers. Who I love. Because they might be able to help me with my ipod transfer. So I don't erase CN's library in the process. Helping me out with this little problem might get you on Santa's Good List.
Downside: YAAAAAAAAAAWN. Irritation with VB for picking a lame topic, wholly devoid of ranting.

*In New Yawkah accent, a la Cawfee Tawlk* So discuss amongst yourselves. Pick a topic, and I will extrapolate. I reserve the right to pick whatever topic I want. This is my blog, dammit, so you can suck it. (That is my new favorite thing to say. "SUCK IT!!!" I yell at CN when he makes fun of me.)

I only work a half day tomorrow, so if I don't hear from you or if you don't read this in time, I hope you have a very happy Thanksgiving. Remember to be thankful for everything you have: your job, your health, your family, your home, and yes, even your controlling and manipulative mother. Despite her delivery method, she really does love you and is only worried about you. She just shows it funny. Kind of like a drill sergeant would. Only with more guilt and snarky comments.

Thursday 13

Sorry, no cute little "Thursday 13" graphics for this one. I don't feel like fooling with it.

Oh, shut up. You'll still like it. It's about my love life. I know my readers are obsessed with my love life. Or, at least, you seem to be...........ok, maybe it's all in my head. Crap, you liked the Southern posts, too, didn't you? Well, bite me. This is my blog, and I'm sick of Southern posts. Today, I feel like whining. (And yes, you can skip this if you don't feel like reading. No offense taken, trust me. Tomorrow morning, I will probably be mortified when I remember I've posted this.)

Thirteen Signs My Love Life is in Serious Trouble*

1. I am going to Virginia soon for The Czarina's annual party. She has invited a 40 year old guy to it, and she's going to try to fix us up. This is not bothering me as much as it should.

2. I have sex dreams. Lots of them. In fact, I haven't been having any other kind of dream lately. Even my subconscious is horny.

3. There is a little, nagging voice in the back of my head. It says, "Try Match again! Try eHarmony! Going on bad dates is better than no date at all!" "Yes, bad online dating stories are good for your blog, too!" says Stupidly Optimistic.

4. Now, when a divorcee tells me, "Trust me, being single is better than being divorced!", I think to myself, "Yes, but at least you got married. And had regular sex for a while. And you weren't alone for a while. Shit, you even got a wedding and a diamond. How is that worse??"

5. I no longer consider girls with boyfriends "single". They have boyfriends. Boyfriends become fiances and then husbands. These girls no longer have to look forward to evenings of..........Courtv. They no longer have to go EVERYWHERE alone. They have people who call them every night. They no longer understand me. They have gone to The Dark Side.

6. When I have extra time, I use hot rollers on my hair before going out. I consider this my "date hairdo", since it does take a lot of extra work. My friends used to say, "Hey, you look nice! Going on a date or something?" Now they say, "Wow. I've never seen your hair like that before."

7. I'm in one helluva vicious cycle: I think a big part of why I am single is because my self-confidence is crap, yet the longer I go without a date, the worse my self-confidence is. And I don't know how to make it stop.

8. The last man to feel me up? My gyno. A few months ago.

9. I was thinking, selling my eggs will at least ensure that my genetic code will be passed on........And being a surrogate mom is kinda like having your own kid.........

10. "Ooh! Maybe I'll meet a guy there!" is what I think whenever I go somewhere. Anywhere. The quickie mart. Or the public library. Or to my hairdresser's. Or the Clinique counter. Or to my mailbox.

11. I have spoken the following sentence, and was dead serious about it: "I think maybe I should look into moving to Richmond or Charlotte. There are more single men there, according to the U.S. Census."

12. I no longer want to travel anywhere. I have squashed the idea of starting to save up for a trip to Ireland, Moscow or South Africa. Sure, touring the world alone sounds like fun in theory, but when an angry Pygmy shoots a poisonous dart at your neck in the middle of the Belgian Congo, having an extra pair of hands around would be very convenient.

13. When friends say, "Hey, I know this guy....I'm pretty sure he's single. He's about 48. But I think he's missing an eye. Or does he wear dentures...? I can't remember. Anyway, would you like me to..." I interrupt: "YES! PLEASE! WHEN? Actually, you know what. Nevermind. You would only be wasting his time."

14. (Bonus) I can count the number of single girlfriends I have on one hand. Make that 2 fingers.

15 (Bonus Bonus) My dating status on myspace hasn't changed. Ever.

*sigh* I need help. You know those defibrillator things they use to shock people's hearts back to life when they've had a heart attack? I need one for my dating career. I think I've flatlined. And brain damage has started to set in.

*I would like to add, just for context's sake, that as I was typing this, I was consuming a horrifying amount of chocolate ice cream, complete with hot fudge sauce. I have now eaten so much, that I feel sick. Awesome. If there was an Olympic medal given out for the competitive sport of Pathetically Single, I think I could get at LEAST a bronze.

Another Conversation with My Brain

So I have a problem. And only a guy can help me with it.

Ew, stop right there! I know what you are thinking. Pervert!

Ok, actually, I guess I would need help with that, too, at this point.....

*sigh* Being a perv who can't get any is tough. The jokes aren't as funny after a while.

Alright, back to the story. The problem is, I need to change my air filter, and I am too short to reach it. I need a guy to change it for me. And Hot Neighbor is out of town, not to mention, he's got that stupid girlfriend who doesn't seem to understand that he's supposed to be dating me. That leaves my next most obvious potential air filter changer: Cute Neighbor.

Cue the next Conversation with My Brain.

So last night, at about 8:30, I told Shy to shut the hell up and walked over to his house to ask if he could help me out with this little problem.

"Oh God. You're outside. You're really going to do this, aren't you?" said Shy, trembling.

"Dude, he's going to be SO stoked that you are asking him for help. You are cute and single and friendly. What guy wouldn't want to help you with your air filter? It takes all of 3 seconds. Afterwards, you two are going to have a nice chat and then he will ask you out!" said Confident.

Stupidly Optimistic agreed wholeheartedly. "Don't forget to offer him a beer and invite him over for dinner!"

"Yeah, and your boobs look big in that t-shirt," said Pervert.

"If he invites you in this time, you should go in and suck his face off!" chimed Horny.

"This is a bad idea. He's going to think you're a weirdo. Or worse, that you are interested in him," said Pessimistically Paranoid.

"DO NOT give that impression!" shrieked Single Girl.

"Oh. My. God. You're really doing this, aren't you? There's still time to change your mind, you know," said Shy.

"SHUT UP, SHY!!!" everyone shouted. (Everyone hates Shy. They think she's stupid. To be honest, she is pretty annoying.)

I knocked on the door. "That wasn't very loud. There's no way he will hear that," said Good Point.

"Wait! Is that him inside, making that noise? He's probably looking out the window right now to see who it is. Don't look!!!" said Pessimistically Paranoid.

"Dude, where is he? It doesn't take this long to answer a door!" said Impatient.

"Can't we just forget this? I'm tired," said Diet & Exercise. (I was pooped from my trip to the gym)

"Yeah, I think we're missing Forensic Files," said Nerd.

"She just didn't knock loud enough. But I think maybe she did that on purpose, because if she doesn't get a chance to talk to him, then she doesn't have a chance to mess things up," said Over-Analytical.

"Ooh, you might be on to something, for once," said Good Point.

"He's taking a long time because he doesn't know if he wants to talk to you. He's watching you right now, trying to decide if you are normal or if you are stalking him. This was one of your more genius ideas, I must say," said Pessimistically Paranoid.

"Oh crap, how does your hair look? Are you standing so that your good side is facing him when he opens the door? Just try and look nonchalant. And remember to smile," said Single Girl.

"What is the big deal? Jeez Louise, you aren't asking for the moon! But you could stand up a little straighter. Stop slouching," said Inner Mom Voice.

"Ok, fine. Do it. See if I care. Shit, go ahead and knock loud as hell. But have you considered what, exactly, you are going to say?" asked Shy.

"She's going to say something charming and brilliant, and possibly even hysterically funny, if you must know," said Confident.

"No! No! Say something which lets him know you want to get in his pants! Flirt your ass off! Wink! Touch his arm! It's your big chance!" yelled Horny and Pervert.

"Ok, you are going to have to knock again. I don't think he heard you," said Good Point.

"Oh he heard her. He got up, looked out his window, thought, 'This crazy bitch is stalking me!' and sat back down. That's what happened," said Pessimistically Paranoid.

"Maybe we are here at a bad time? Perhaps he's sleeping or on an important phone call," said Good Point.

"Or he thinks you're the FBI, coming to arrest him!" said Overactive Imagination.

"Or he's watching porn!" said Pervert.

"Tee hee!" giggled Horny.

Impatient sighed. "Can we go now? This is stupid."

"What I want to know is, how long are you going to stand here on his doorstep like an idiot. Anyone want to put some money on this?" said Cynical.

"You fool! Run!!!!" said Panic.

So I quickly walked back to my house and shut the door behind me.

"Gosh I'm glad you said that, Panic!" exclaimed Shy.

"You don't deserve those tits. I think you need to donate them to someone who might actually USE them," Cynical said.

"You are totally pathetic. I am so disappointed in you. You need to take advantage of the ideas I plant in your head, you know. I don't come up with good ones every day," said Single Girl.

"Seriously, are ANY of you even surprised at this point? I mean, come on, look who we're dealing with," said Pity Party.

"I told you this was a bad idea!!!" shouted Shy.

"Ok, so we weren't super confident today. That's ok, we will just try again when you get home from work tomorrow! Maybe we put too much pressure on ourselves. Tomorrow we will be calm and more confident. You can do this, I know you can," said Confident.

"Dude, come on. You know he wants you," said Stupidly Optimistic.

"Can we watch Forensic Files now?" asked Nerd.

"Yes. Please. I need some peace and quiet. Even if it involves learning about how some husband in Michigan chopped up his wife with his wood chipper. Anything, if only y'all will SHUT UP," I said.

Conversations with My Brain

I promise I'm alive!

It's just that aside from working on my Big Secret Project, I don't have a lot going on right now. And I really need a break from the Southern Culture posts. I will do more, but for now, I need to stop. It takes me so long to assemble each one of those posts -- being the geeky librarian that I am, I have to do research before posting them.

And it gets tiring. Sometimes you just want to log in and start writing, you know?

After much writing, rambling, editing, deleting and small-decision-making (I have written and re-written this post about 3 times today), I have decided to devote this post to introducing you to a new guy in VB World.

Don't get excited.

Good grief, how long have you been reading me? You should know better than to EVER get excited when I talk about guys on here. Calm down. Nothing happened. Nothing EVER happens. This will probably be the only time I even mention this guy. This post is only being written so that you can laugh at me. I'm in a self-deprecating mood today. Trust me, if something cool happened, the post title would tell you. I promise. Can I continue, please? Are we all calm now? Ok.

Allow me to introduce a new character: Cute Neighbor.

Not only do I have Hot Neighbor, I have Cute Neighbor. Oh yes, I am one lucky girl. 2 hotties on my street, and I have yet to spend more than 5 minutes with either one of them. Awesome. I think I can officially give Bridget Jones a run for her money now.

While most girls would have either dated, screwed or at least knocked back a few beers with neighborhood hotties at this point, I am relegated to spying on both of them through my window blinds, wondering what they are doing, where they are going, and why they are not naked in my bedroom. Just another normal day in VB World. My abilities astound me sometimes. I should get in touch with Cosmo. They could write an article inspired by me: "How to be Totally Pathetic".

Cute Neighbor lives directly across the street from me. When I moved in, my real estate agent informed me that she had grown up with him. Since I hadn't laid eyes on him yet, I didn't pump her for info. But I don't remember her saying anything bad. Perhaps I should ask her about him....hmmmm....

This is what I have observed (yes, through my window blinds) so far: He drives a Jeep, plays golf, works out and plays the drums. He never ever has people over, which seems odd to me, but he does go out on weekends sometimes. He dresses normally. He likes to wash his car and takes good care of his lawn. He can change his own oil, which is major points in my book.

He also has gorgeous eyes. And has a kind of geeky vibe going on. Very pale skin. Gives it away every time. Luckily, the older I get, the better geeky guys sound to me.

How do I know he has gorgeous eyes? Why, because I brought him some cookies one day, about 3 weeks ago. When I get bored, I bake. And since I'm on a diet, I can never keep the stuff in the house. So I give it away to the first person I see. But this was a lazy Sunday, and I didn't have any plans on seeing my friends. So I decided to play Nice Neighbor and go door-to-door, handing out cookies to my neighbors. That's when I met Cute Neighbor. I had (obviously) seen him around, but had never gotten a good look at him. Which meant he had never gotten a good look at me, either. Hmmm. How 'bout that.....

I changed into a jean skirt, reapplied my lip gloss, sprayed on some body spray and began playing Neighborhood Girl Scout.

Eventually, I walked over to his house, noticed how nice and green his yard is (far, far different than mine!) and knocked. He opened the door, and I noticed, in true "guy form", he had apparently never decorated anything. He was a little taller than me, had dark hair and these incredible green eyes. Cool.

"Hi, I'm Virginia, from across the street," I said, smiling.

"Hi, I'm Cute Neighbor," he said, also smiling. He shook my hand. Nice and firm. This is good.

I explained why I was knocking on his door, and he eagerly grabbed 3 cookies and said thank you. As we talked, he ate one of the cookies--he couldn't seem to wait. "Note to Self," I thought. "He is apparently in desperate need of homemade baked goods." We talked about his yard, our neighborhood and how he had meant to meet more of his neighbors. He mentioned that because of work, he has crazy hours. But he didn't say what he did for a living, and I always feel it's rude to ask people what they do. Especially when I'm a single girl talking to a (presumably) single guy. So I don't know what he does. But he wears a suit sometimes. That's all I know.

"Hey, you wanna come in?" he said. That's when I got "The Look". You know what I'm talking about, ladies. That look that guys give you when they are checking you out, but they are trying to hide that fact from you. The look that lets you know they like what they're seeing. It's very fleeting, but it's quite an ego booster, I must say. I don't think guys even realize they do it. It's that subtle. Yet unmistakable.

This momentary expression on his face sent my brain, and all of its parts, into a tizzy.

The Diet/Exercise part of my brain said:

"Hey, those trips to the gym are really paying off! Sweet! Maybe I will start getting this look all the time. If I doubled up on my workouts, at this rate...."

Horny interrupted and said:

"Oooh! Yes! Go inside! Maybe you can make out on his couch! Go for it, VB!"

Single Girl said:

"Don't do it! Play hard to get! Tell him you have a date or something. This is too easy. Make him work for it a little more. Ooooh. Nice eyes. Keep talking to him so you can look in his eyes some more. Just make up something. Keep talking. Maybe he'll ask you out. Hey, it looks like he's got decent arms, too. Say something funny so he will fall in love with you instantly. He's probably already intrigued from the cookies. Keeeeeeeep talking........."

Horny said: "Yeah! Nice eyes! Jump his bones! Like he's gonna protest!"

Cynical said:

"This guy just wants more cookies. He's greedy. He thinks that if he can get you inside, you will offer him more cookies."

"Hell yeah, she's gonna offer up some cookies!" Horny said.

"He's got a girlfriend and he's just going to cheat on her right now, with you, because he's got the chance. Men are assholes, and he's no different," warned Bitter.

"No, no, no. He's obviously either a porn addict or some Dungeons & Dragons geek. Look at that pale, transparent skin. He hasn't stepped away from his X-box or computer monitor in 4 months. No wonder no one ever comes to see him. All his friends are online," said Pessimistically Paranoid.

"Did you say 'porn'?" Horny asked.

"But he seems normal. And total super geeks don't drive Jeeps or play the drums. He's probably super cool. I bet you two have lots in common. You should have a lasagna supper and invite him over. Come on, you've been meaning to have a lasagna dinner for a while. This is a great opportunity!" said Stupidly Optimistic.

Then Overactive Imagination said:

"No.........wait. Going into a seemingly-normal stranger's house? That's how girls disappear. Everyone thought Ted Bundy was normal, too. You don't know him. Maybe he buries women in his backyard. You know, he never has people over. It all makes sense now. His backyard is probably lumpy from all the graves. That's why no one ever comes to his house. His secret would be revealed. Can't you picture the headlines now? Cookie-bearing Woman Disappears: Neighborhood Shocked, Police Want to Question Male Neighbor. And then, two weeks later: Man Buried Local Women in Backyard."

And then Reality, which luckily took over after hearing what Overactive had to say, said out loud:

"Oh, I'd love to, but I can't. I'm actually on my way out."

Which was totally true. I had a gym class to catch. I said goodbye and left my house 5 minutes later.

True to form, he and I haven't spoken a word since. Almost Girl strikes again! The girl who gets checked out sometimes, but never asked out. If this keeps up, I might have to change the name of this blog. You think I'm kidding.

So, what do you think? Did I screw up? Should I have gone into his house? Did he think I was turning him down? Can I remedy the situation? I feel I made the first move and now it's his turn. Perhaps I'm being too stubborn or old-fashioned. Maybe I should make more cookies.......he seemed to like them the first time. Am I just totally pathetic? Maybe I didn't get The Look. Maybe I got an Almost Look. Or maybe he just had indigestion? Or is he maybe thinking along the lines of "don't dig in your own backyard", so to speak?

Arg. I would give anything to hear the conversations he has with his brain. I wonder how it would go...

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.

Nostalgia

Time for me to bore you with my weekend update. Friday was another wonderful evening with the lovely Happy Hour Girls. We all caught up on our "mens" -- or in my case, lack thereof.

Saturday morning, K and I made breakfast for Navy Guy using my new griddle. We had french toast just like Czarina's, scrambled eggs and turkey bacon. (Ever had turkey bacon? Dude, it's good. Try it.) Mmmmm....every day should start with a heaping dose of fat, salt, maple syrup and orange juice. (Diet? Who's on a diet? I don't know anyone...)

Saturday afternoon, I went with MJ and KT to a car show. I didn't realize she was such a big fan of cars...too bad the show was pretty small. We did see some cool cars, though. Then, in keeping with our nostalgic theme of the day, we went to Steak n Shake. For those of you who are not familiar with this restaurant, let me send you some virtual sympathy. You poor, poor thing. Get in your car and drive to the nearest one. Whadda ya mean it's 8 hours away? I said go. Don't worry, you will forget all about the drive as soon as you get a long, cool sip of one of their hand-scooped milkshakes. Mmmmm....

MJ and KT had never been, so I had to enlighten them. It's a 1950s-style burger/fries/shake kind of chain restaurant. I love them because:

1. They have fantastic milkshakes.
2. Their burgers have crispy edges and lots of big pickles.
3. Their chili is awesome on a cold day.
4. They are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. And now they take Visa.

They are everywhere in Indiana (sort of like how there's a Waffle House on every corner in SC), so going there always takes me back to Friday nights in high school, when every teenager in a 15 mile radius would descend on the poor staff of the local Steak n Shake. In college, I would meet up with friends there to talk and smoke for hours on end. So I have a lot of great Steak n Shake memories. They don't exist in Virginia, so I was very excited to see one when I moved here. I am the envy of my family, to be exact. The Belle family loves S&S.

After gorging ourselves on burgers and milkshakes (diet? what diet?), we hit some thrift stores. After looking at old furniture that looked like something from Grandma's house, we discovered a box of (get this) 8 tracks! I can't even remember the last time I have seen one. I think I was about 7 years old.

I ended up falling asleep on my couch on Saturday night -- wow, how exciting. I watched Best in Show before passing out, though. It was very disappointing. There are a couple of characters I liked (the gay couple and the yuppie couple were hysterical), but otherwise, this movie was lame.

Sunday, I cleaned the disgusting pig-hole known as my house. I cleaned all. day. long. I think I went through about 15 sheets on my lint roller. (It's dog hair city at my place.) I watched Mean Girls as I cleaned. I had forgotten how funny that movie is! By dinnertime, I was too tired to make anything and too grungy to go out to eat. So K and I got a pizza. (Diet? I don't know what you're talking about.) Well, eventually, anyway. It turns out, my house is located in the only part of town that Papa John's won't deliver to. If you go 15 minutes in any direction from my house, you can get to a Papa John's. But none of them will deliver to my house. I don't live in a bad neighborhood, just outside of their little delivery area. I thought this was bulls--t, and I *ahem* said so. Because, last I checked, pizza delivery guys could use the money. And I would swear on all things holy that they have delivered to my house before. But whatever. I just drove up to the Domino's around the corner, waited 10 minutes (for a far inferior, yet cheaper, take-out pizza) and got over it.

But Papa is on my list, now. He'd better be glad I don't have any mafia connections.

I haven't told you about my dream I had! Ok, it's so sad to say this, but it was practically the highlight of my weekend.

I had a dream that I had sex with Julian McMahon!!!! Yeah! It was awesome. Well, ok, I think it was awesome. I don't remember the actual sex part. (Maybe it was so good, my memory just couldn't handle it? And so it blocked it out??) My recollection starts when he gets up to go take a shower after we do it. I am removing my clothes (yeah, I don't get it either--maybe we had been too into it to bother with clothing removal?), telling him I'll be joining him in the shower in just a second (RAWR!) when I look over at his dresser.

There's a thing of woman's deodorant sitting on the dresser. And it's not mine. The asshole is too
dense/arrogant to even hide the most obvious piece of evidence of another woman.

That's the end of the dream -- me, naked, holding some other woman's deodorant.

How sad is it that I even have cynical dreams???? *sigh*

Ok, enough fooling around. I know why you're here. You are expecting some kind of Hot Neighbor update, aren't you? Something about lasagna, or me doing some weeding in my front yard, wearing nothing but a bikini. You want me to say that he and I had wild, hot, dirty monkey sex on his living room floor, don't you? Or that he's taking me out to dinner next Saturday.

You'd probably even settle for me saying something optimistically cliche about fate, or waiting for things to happen at the right time, or taking my life into my own hands and making things happen, not living in fear of rejection, that kind of thing. Am I right?

Well, sorry folks. The only Hot Neighbor update I have for you is this: He was gone most of the weekend. Right up until Sunday night, when the Wednesday Skank pulled into his driveway in her shiny, new convertible.

Wednesday Skank -- 2, Virginia Belle -- 0

Game over, folks.

The St. Valentine's Day Massacre

Al Capone ain't got shit to do with this one, honey.

I'm talking about the other VD.

Venereal disease? Or Valentine's Day?

Is there a difference?

Both are humiliating. Both are painful. Both make you feel judged and labeled. Not to mention angry.

I am pretty sure the grand tally now is 5. Five girls I know, including myself, who are currently pissed at men in general. We have been dumped, lied to, lied about, hurt, freaked out, stood up, toyed with, frustrated, cheated on, insulted, used, rejected and had our hearts squashed liked bugs. We have been crying, drinking, smoking, bitching, pill popping, screaming, breaking things and doing a lot of running on treadmills. Every day, it seems, we add to our ranks of Very Angry Women. It is spreading like wildfire and we are sick of it. We are serious. Be afraid. This is a warning. Some of us are good shots. And some of us have access to guns.



We've had enough. We're just going to start killing you now.

Look, men, I'm sure you're all nice guys. Well, most of you. But right now, we are seriously considering hunting you down like scared little bunnies, shooting you dead and skinning your hides. Then we will tack them up to our walls as trophies, complete with a sign saying "My Ex, 2/14/07" or "This is what happens to cheaters." At least, that's what I'm going to do. If I go to jail, at least I'll leave the world a better place.

Don't give me that "oh, look at the bitter single woman!" bullshit. I don't want any comments talking about what I've done to bring this upon myself or how I need to stop being angry/jaded/bitter. Please don't tell me "oh, you'll find a good one soon" or any other corny optimistic bullshit. Keep the "this is why you're single" crap to yourself. Because I hope I'm single for a loooooooong time at this point. And don't you DARE say that I'm being too emotional. I'm not taking any responsibility for any of this crap, and neither are my friends because ALL the responsibility lies with the MEN who pulled this crap on us. In every situation, the guy was responsible 100%. So you can shove your "stop being a victim" comments.

And while I'm at it, men, WTF is up with your entire gender these past two weeks? Because y'all have some serious explaining to do. I think you're all walking backwards on your hands. Looks like your Dickhead Conference was a success. Good job. And y'all wonder why you can't get laid whenever you want...oh, and we just looooooove the timing, btw. Gee, really slick--right before Valentine's Day. What, did you think we wouldn't make the connection? What, you think there won't be 8.17 million women who won't join us? Because they will. They hate Valentine's Day Assholes just as much as we do.

If you are truly a nice guy who hasn't pulled any Asshole Moves lately, then I thank you for being normal, human and kind. I'm sure your girlfriend/wife/S.O./female friend appreciates you very much. Which is good, because you'll need her protection when we come to kill you. If you are a single guy and you can honestly say that you have been a total sweetheart to every woman you know for the past two weeks, we will consider sparing your life. It is, of course, decided on a case-by-case basis. And we'll need testimony from at least 2 ex-girlfriends that you are worthy of living. In writing. Certified by a public notary. By tomorrow.

And to all you happy little couples out there: I'm sure it's great that you're all happy and smiley from feeling loved and appreciated, but can you do the rest of us a favor and knock it off with the PDA this week? Because on Wednesday, you might get a real, actual spitball right on the side of your head. I, myself, will be tripping you as you walk, hand-in-hand down the street. You want to celebrate love? Stay home and have a bonkfest. Leave us angry, single women to our cigarettes, bitching and alcohol. That's right--we claim all drinking establishments. Y'all can have the romantic restaurants, flowers, peni, chocolate and cards. Fair enough?

If you are reading this and thinking, "I'm dating someone, but I hate Valentine's Day, too!", zip it. I don't want to hear from you. Right now, I'm only interested in talking to other single, angry women. Preferably the ones who hate men just as much as I do right now. So unless you'd like to give me some extra bullets you've got laying around, and you're willing to help us kill them, then you have no idea what we are going through right now. You can be my friend on Thursday.

Until then, look for my mug shot in the papers.

Whew. I feel better now. Thanks for letting me vent and daydream for a minute.

Gosh, it's a good thing I'm not armed, isn't it? How much do guns cost?

Drama!!

For those of you who think my posts this week have been kind of boring, do not fear. This one's juicy.

Trust me.

And I don't really care who reads this or what they think. I'm going to lay it all out on the line. The whole truth and nothing but. I'm not holding back on this one. (See? I told ya this was juicy.)

So this morning I was on myspace. (Some of you are groaning already, I can hear you!) By browsing around on some friends' and friend-of-friends' pages, I managed to put two and two together:

My ex-boyfriend has a girlfriend. That's right. Repo is dating someone.

After about 45 minutes of crying and some phone calls and emails to my wonderfully supportive friends (you know who you are), I felt like I was going to hurl.

Was I hurt? You betcha. I was crushed. He'd rather be with someone else. Enough to date her and refer to her as "girlfriend". I had always secretly hoped we would get back together, because honestly, my feelings for him never really went away. We still talk and flirt. My ego was majorly bruised-- I had always hoped I'd be the first to find someone, the first to officially move on. I know he hasn't always been Mr. Perfect by any wild stretch of the imagination, but you can't help whom you love. So this was kind of a blow.

Then again, it's not like I didn't realize today was going to happen eventually. I wish that knowing that would help you prepare, but it doesn't. It's still upsetting.

So I was crying and feeling hurt about it, until I thought..."Hey...wait a second..."

[Ok, this is the part that is really hard for me to admit on my blog...because to be honest, I'm pretty ashamed of myself...so be kind, peeps. I know what I've done is stupid.]

My wheels started turning. You see, the thing is, I've been sleeping with him on and off since we broke up last July. As recently as a couple of weeks ago. He's told me he misses me, he's lonely, thinks about me, etc. The whole spiel. (He gave me the spiel in Oct-Nov-ish. It was mushy enough to keep me going and believing that something might actually happen between us again one day.)

So for me to read that he has a girlfriend, my first thought is obviously, "Ok, how long have they been dating? And how do I find out?"

A mutual friend, of course. I texted her.

Well, it turns out that he's been dating the girl since early October. Yeah...so I have been The Other Woman for 4 months. This is not how I roll. I am not cool with this at all. I felt terrible about unknowingly being "that girl". His poor girlfriend probably had no idea! He'd been lying to me about being single all this time. (Every time he came over, it would come up and we would ask each other if we were dating anyone. He told me every time he was single. Not dating anyone.) He had been lying to her. Making both of us look like idiots. (When really, I can make a complete idiot out of myself, by myself. I don't need any help in that department!!)

That's when I started to get pissed off. Which, as my fellow females know, feels a helluva lot better than feeling hurt. I was mad at him for lying to me, lying to her, putting me and her in these positions, making fools out of us, thinking we were stupid and one of us wouldn't figure it out, thinking that I would cover for him...the list went on and on.

Did I mention he talked shit about a girl we both know because she cheated on her boyfriend???? So he's a hypocrite to boot.

Asshole. Just typing that makes me so pissed at myself for even dating him in the first place. I've had adreneline surging throught my veins since about 11:30am! Where was I? Oh yeah.

So I'm talking to the mutual friend, trying to find out how long they've been dating. "Why?" she asks. Believing that the girlfriend was only an acquaintance of hers, I inform her that I think Repo has been cheating on his girlfriend. With me.

"That asshole! That's my best friend!" she replied.

Oh boy. Well, shit. Me and my big mouth. I thought she just knew the girl, I didn't know they were friggin best friends. Now the cat was out of the bag. Oops. I hadn't planned on telling the girlfriend, but it was really too late for that. (Then again, I wasn't going to lose any sleep over it, either. He's an asshole and brought all of this upon himself.)

"What should we do?" we both asked.

"She should hear it from you so she gets it from the horse's mouth," she said.

"No one wants to hear that from a stranger! Tell her to call me if she wants to and I will tell her everything she needs to know. And tell her I am sorry and that I would never ever do that to someone if I knew."

She said she'd tell the girlfriend and call me back. She did, and they called me. The three of us talked about it--they asked me questions, I gave them information--where, when, what he said, what I knew, what I didn't know, etc. Lots of details. I told her I was really sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but no one wants to be the last to know or be made a fool. I told her that although I wasn't as hurt as she probably was, that I was also hurt by him. He had lied to both of us. I apologized to her because I never ever would have done what I did had I known he was dating someone. I told her I asked him several times if he was dating someone and he said he wasn't. I said I knew no one likes hearing all of this, especially from a stranger, but she should probably know. She said she was sorry too. But she thanked me and got off the phone.

A little bit later, she texted me to say that he was denying everything and blaming the whole thing on me. Saying that I was just causing trouble. She apologized for the way he was behaving. I told her not to believe him, because he was putting lies on top of lies. I told her I have proof -- because I do. (Seriously, what a moron! Just fess up! The show's over! You've been called out. Try and save a little bit of dignity!! Own up to your faults like a man!)

Then she said something very interesting: "He has MRSA right now. Do you think he caught it from you?"

[Note to new readers: Repo and I have been suffering from MRSA, a staph infection. We seem to keep giving it back and forth to each other. One doctor did say that it could have been passed through "close, personal, skin-on-skin contact" -- ie, sex. But no one really knows for sure how we caught it or why it keeps coming back. You can read the backstory here. And here. And here.]

Well, the funny thing is, the last MRSA outbreak I had was back in October, just a day after he and I had hooked up. (We had a lull in the booty calls between November and December. So we only seem to be catching MRSA in months where we are hooking up.) Interesting coincidence. So I am thinking that maybe he and I really are just giving it back and forth to each other. I told her there isn't any way to be sure, but that I had caught it from him before, and so maybe he had now caught it from me. I said that it was a possibility.

I don't know if she believes me. She probably hates me. Can't really say I blame her. I can tell she is sorry this whole situation is even taking place. We both apologized to each other a few times. I feel really bad about the timing, too--right before Valentine's Day. But better now than later, right? I mean, if I were being cheated on, I would definitely want to know, ASAP. And although I didn't plan on doing this (I was going to gather information and think about it for a while before making up my mind), I do think he ought to be ashamed of himself. Running all over town, hurting people and lying to them. Talking shit about people who are doing the same thing he's doing! Mr. High and Mighty. When we broke up, he told me he "just didn't have time for a relationship." Well, that's pretty funny, because for the past 4 months, he's had time for TWO at the same time. But the lying and lack of concern for how his actions affect others is what really gets under my skin. And then denying it when he's called out!!!! What a spineless asshole!!!

I don't know if she believed me or not. But based on the extremely pissed off text messages I received from Repo about an hour ago, I can only assume he's in hot water. He thinks I'm "psycho" and "ruining his life". But I didn't intend to start shit. I was just trying to get some info. By the time I got it, it was too late. And to be honest, I won't lose any sleep over it. He has no one to blame but himself. Now three women hate him.

I let him have it, too, when he started giving me shit. I asked him if he had cheated on me, too. Asked him if his mother would be proud of him. Told him he was a hypocrite and an asshole. I think I called him an asshole twice.

I am so glad we broke up. Because if we were still dating, he would probably be cheating on me with her. Now I see him for who he really is. As far as closure goes, this pretty much does it for me.

I am honestly starting to believe men are total scumbags. All of them (except my brothers and my guy pals, that is!).

People wonder what makes women crazy. Or why they are bitches. They wonder why some women are bitter or have attitudes. This is why. I'm pretty much done with men. For a long while. They won't be missed. I am on strike. The whole damn gender can kiss my ass. I don't care if Julian McMahon hits on me. I'll throw the drink in his face and tell him to go...well, you know.

Ok, I need to cool off and go read some blogs until it's 9pm. Then I'm meeting up w/MJ for drinks. We're going to have a bitch-a-thon about how much we hate men. Her day was pretty close to mine. We're both pretty anti-male right now.

Thursday 13 (Late, as Usual)

Thirteen Things That Happened This Week

Ok, I know this is a cop-out topic. But my brain is really disorganized today, so you are going to have to bear with me! Besides, I need to catch you up on what has been happening. Here goes...

1. I think I have found a mortgage offer that is actually below market interest rates! Woo-hoo! I will know more on Monday.

2. Every time I go to brainstorm about decorating my house, I want to do each room in a different shade of green: seafoam bathroom, celadon in the bedroom and apple in the kitchen. (Obviously, if you read my blog, you can see how much I love green...) Somebody stop me before I end up living in the Honeydew House! Must. Think. Outside. Green. Box.

3. I booked my (free) flight to Indianapolis to go visit all my old friends. I am SO excited I can hardly stand it. I haven't seen most of these guys since 2001. I will be there for 9 days in December. This means I will freeze my ass off the whole time because I no longer own any wool/warm clothing. I'll have to figure that out later.

4. There was only one free return flight--December 24th. So I won't be getting to Czarina's house for the holidays until Christmas Day. Oops. Luckily, she's cool with it.

5. My impending trip means I will have to lose substantial amounts of weight between now and then. I can't be The Girl Who Moved Away and Got Fat. Plus, I will be hanging out with College Boyfriend, so you know how that is. Remember, I am also going to Florida the week before, where I will run into another ex--the Big Ex. So diet and exercise is the name of the game at this point.

6. Except that I have been having wicked chocolate attacks all week. I went to the grocery store last weekend and bought the following: Milky Way bars, chocolate Twizzlers, two cartons of chocolate ice cream, chocolate cake mix and chocolate icing for the chocolate cake. As I type this, I am down to the ice cream and a few Milky Ways. Oops. (To my credit, I shared the cake with my coworkers.)

7. After having my monthly "I will never get married! I will die alone and childless!" dramatic, crying breakdown--can you tell I'm somewhat hormonal right now?-- I decided to suck it up, force myself to be in a better mood and stop feeling sorry for myself. So, I went out. I went with K to Wild Hare. We met two guys: the first one I will call Parrot Guy. He was really good looking, but something was...weird about him. And slightly annoying. I wasn't feeling him. Then I realized the irony: He has a parrot that can talk. Apparently the parrot repeats itself incessantly. Much like his owner does. I kid you not, we had the same four conversations about three times each: football, his parrot, the fact that I don't drink and Germany. By the time we stopped talking, I was finishing his sentences because he kept repeating himself. Much like his parrot. Annoying? Yes. Yes. Yes.

8. The other guy, it turns out, used to date the girl who had my job before me. I work in her old office, in her old position. Weird. A small world moment. (Really, I need to start telling you guys about my weird small world moments. I have lots.) I prepared myself for a bitter tirade, but he was actually a gentleman about it, and said nothing but nice things. Of course (duh!) I came into work today to get the scoop from everyone, and it turns out that she broke his heart, so now I am sad to think about how much he probably didn't want to even think about that when he went out last night. If I ever see him again, I will apologize.

9. Then, K ran into her friend, the Car Salesman. His coworker met me once a long time ago and wanted to be set up with me. I had managed to avoid this whole scenario for months, but alas, last night it caught up with me. I had a bad gut feeling about it (hence my avoidance), but unfortunately, I was in a corner. I could not for the life of me remember the guy, so I was secretly crossing my fingers that he was hot or funny or at least cool. Unfortunately...he could have passed for Repo's Unfunny Ugly Twin. Yeah. Not good. Don't get me wrong--he was a nice guy. Very sweet. But entirely too much like Repo--talks like him, dresses like him, same mannerisms....but ugly. And unfunny. I gave it my best shot, but there's no way it would ever happen. I have to be attracted to a guy for it to work. And the ability to make me laugh is a definite must. And it would definitely help if he didn't remind me of a guy that broke my heart. I actually started to tear up at one point, but I don't think anyone saw me, thankfully.

10. The four of us ended up going down to 5 Points, a part of town mostly visited by college students. So I felt a little old, but it was ok. While I was there, I ran into The Cop's former roommate. We chatted for a second, and I mentioned that I hadn't run into The Cop lately--he didn't seem to be out at the bars anymore. His former roommate replied, "Yeah, he's gotten really serious with some girl." Great. Just what I needed to hear. As if it's not bad enough, sitting there, being forced to hang out with an almost-twin of my most recent ex, now I get to hear that my other ex is virtually engaged. On either side of me were reminders of my failed relationships. On a night when I was already feeling upset, pathetic and lonely.

11. Just as he's telling me about The Cop's love life, up walks another friend of K's. He is facing me, and wearing a shirt that says, in huge purple lettering: YOU ARE OLD! ....and that's about when I was ready to go home. I couldn't help but feel that was a sign for something. This night just had too many reminders that I suck at relationships, so I might as well just give up and grow old. Alone.

12. I went to the bathroom to try and knock myself out of this negative thought pattern (again, hormones. They are mean little bastards!) . As I'm sitting there, taking deep breaths, I overhear the tail end of a drunken conversation between two young college girls:

Girl 1: "You are gorgeous! Do you hear me??? Gorgeous! You can get any man you want!"
Girl 2: "But he's got a new girlfriend! And she's prettier than me!! I miss him!"
Girl 1: "Why do you care? You can get any of these guys! You're fabulous! You're gorgeous! [to a third girl who happened to walk into the bathroom] Isn't she gorgeous?? He's an idiot. And that girl is not cute at all. You don't want him anyway because he's an asshole..."

All I could think was how many times I have played the role of Girl 2, and how thankful I was for the Girl 1s of the world. I always believed the Girl 1s, and appreciated their pep talks. But this time, I was on the outside. An impartial third party listener. And as I listened to Girl 1 repeat herself, all I could think was, "She is so full of shit."

I guess I'm officially cynical!

13. I don't have much in the way of plans this weekend. I am going to go see MJ's new house, which she officially purchased today. I am feeling the urge to clean out a closet, think up more decorating ideas and do some cooking. (WOW, exciting!) But I'm sure something cool will come down the pipes. If not, I will be forced to create my own excitement. K is out of town all weekend, so it's just Sammy and me. Hopefully, he will be a better doggie than last weekend. But I'll explain that in the next post.

Have great weekends, everyone!!!

Mysterious

I have a fun feature on my myspace page. I got it from Free Flash Toys. It is this virtual refrigerator where people can leave me messages using those alphabetical fridge magnets--you know, the ones you had as a kid. (If you are lost, just go to the website. You can see what I am talking about there.)

I thought it would be a fun way for people to just say hi or whatever. But I keep getting these weird messages! They make no sense at all. Examples:

Go Home! (This one has appeared several times)

Take the knife out of my heart! (This one also used one of my nicknames in the message.)

I Love You [my real name]!! --[some crazy girl's name I've never even heard of]

Needless to say, these messages are both puzzling and creepy. I am home. Do they mean my hometown? Or Indy? Do they not like me living in SC? A knife in their heart?? Someone's being a little dramatic, I think. Is someone mad at me? No, wait, someone out there loves me. I have no idea who she is, but she loves me. Good to know, I suppose. It's almost something from a horror movie or an episode of The Twilight Zone.

Now, I did turn down a date with Black Eye, but this is nothing new, as he has asked me out three times and gotten the same answer each time. Do you think he is trying to get back at me?? He would be most likely, I suppose, to leave a message referring to my leaving a knife in his heart.....right?

I seriously doubt that Repo would be motivated enough to do something like that. Besides, I'm sure he isn't crying over me by any wild stretch of the imagination. And College Boyfriend would not leave anything so obscure. He would probably just email me or say hi. My girlfriends would leave something nice and simple. These are not inside jokes I have with anyone. So I am stuck scratching my head. The thing is, anyone who happens across my page can leave a message, just as anyone here can leave a comment, only my fridge is 100% anonymous. So I will never have any idea who is leaving these.

I wish people would just leave normal messages. This is very puzzling. If you are doing it, fess up!!!

In other news...I went out with MJ this weekend. We had a good time, as usual, catching up and laughing. We went to a bar called The Wild Hare, where we ran into...

FedSucksy.

I can't escape this guy! I keep running into him! Aaaarrrgh!!! And it's not helping that he looks smokin' hot every time I see him! Seriously, he is just scrumptious.

He and his roommate talked to us for a while--maybe about an hour. They were pretty drunk, while she and I were stone cold sober. This, of course, is easy pickings for me.

"Hey, did you change your number? Because I called you a bunch of times and left messages, but you never called back," he said.

"Yeah, I know," I deadpanned.

"Oh, so you didn't change your number?" he asked.

"Nope," I said bluntly.

Then I explained to him that if he truly wanted to apologize to me for what he did, he would have made a coffee date and stuck with it, instead of always cancelling at the last minute and playing phone tag with me. I told him I ran out of patience and I didn't have time for crap like that. He apologized for the coffee cancelling. And for standing me up last winter.

Then he "accidentally" spilled beer on my purse. (Payback, perhaps, for the drink I dumped on him?)

Then he complimented my makeup. WTF???

He also mentioned how the gym class had kicked his ass, which was something I definitely enjoyed hearing. I gave him some tips about the class, and he told me he is at the gym pretty much every day around 6:45. Hmmm...why was he telling me this? Was he flirting with me? Then again, maybe it was just my imagination....

Either way, eventually MJ and I tired of them and left.

Men make absolutely no sense. This guy stands me up, is a total asshole about it, then proceeds to start kissing my ass a few months later, only to spill beer on my purse and flirt with me. Then again, he did ask for a ride home from the bars, so maybe that was his motivation!

Apparently, I have officially hit my Cynical Stage.

Never fear, this isn't over yet. Tonight is Tuesday, which means he and I will face off at the gym again. I'll keep you posted.

What Am I Doing Wrong?

I read somewhere once (or maybe my mom said it to me): "Take a look at all of your past relationships. They all have one thing in common: you."

I've been thinking about my dating history a lot this week. I started dating through match.com a couple of months ago. So far, I'm really tempted to refer to it as "mis-match.com". But I need to be more positive, I think. I can't control how bad the dates are, only how I react to them. I just have to keep getting back on the saddle. If anything, it is making for good blog stories. So henceforth, I will strive to be more optimistic and nauseatingly sunshiny. It's a tough pill for a cynic like me to swallow, but I'll just do it. Negative attitudes abound in this land, and it will only come across to potential datees if I continue on this path. Besides, I firmly believe that if you force yourself to be positive, you will eventually become a positive person. It's a self-fulfilling mind trick.

How did I get to this point of relying on a computer to collect "eligible" bachelors for me? Well, I looked at it like this: I had not been on a date in a really....long.....time. Between December 2003 and January 2005 the total number of dates I went on totaled: zero. That is a year. (Aside from The Cop, a brief relationship which ended 6 months ago, I have had no dates other than match.com dates even to this day.) Unfortunately, regardless of how much I pleaded and begged, time refused to be on my side. I was tired of letting fate control my dating life, so I took my shriveling ovaries and sat down at my Dell to admit to myself (and the ovaries, since this was all their idea) that this was my only chance at getting a date in this town, even if it was with a 58 year old. Any date was better than no date at this point. Man, this was depressing.

The problem is, I don't know how I got to this point. I'm pretty good at relationships, (although I'm sure some of my exes would beg to differ!). Once they get off the ground, I know what I'm doing. Lately, the problem has been getting them started. I think of myself as happy, smart, fun and reasonably attractive. I don't have any major relationship hang-ups, I am not a psycho and I don't have unrealistic expectations (I hope.). I'm not in a rush to get married and I love to smooch. I even like to bake cookies! What more can they want? I'm a catch, according to my mom, although everyone's mom says that. So why aren't they knocking down my door? Some theories:

1. The sluts are getting all the men.
2. The good ones are, as we have all feared, taken. Just like early Microsoft investors, those girls in college knew a good thing when they saw it and invested it all right at the start, only to become multi-gazillionares in three years.
   
3. They have evacuated Columbia for the greener patures of NYC after watching one too many SATC episodes.
   
4. They are intimidated by my incredible charm and good looks.
5. I'm unapproachable because I'm shy, maybe?
6. Men have all become metrosexuals and cannot squeeze me in between their manicure and facial appointments.
   
7. Men don't approach women anymore and have grown lazy and spoiled thanks to the aggressive, ball-busting, power-suit-wearing women who ask them out.
8. Actually, they meant to approach me, but the game came on and they had one too many beers and passed out on the couch.
   
9. They are all in hiding, driven to underground caverns to escape the crazy psycho women that are pestering them.
10. I'm actually invisible to all men in my target audience.

As much as I'd like to think it is #4, in all actuality, it is probably #5 or #8. I have lots of friends, but all their guy friends are either married, dating someone or have voices like Minnie Mouse. (I'm sorry, but I just can't date guys whose voices make my skin crawl. I can't even talk to them on the phone. I've tried.) I see cute guys on occasion at bookstores or in parks. There is eye contact and smiling....and that's all I get. They can't all have girlfriends, can they? I tried asking a guy out, and let's just say it didn't go so well. Plus, it made me insecure from the get-go because the entire time I was thinking, "Is this a pity date?" Then there are the things that never go anywhere, like in my previous post. It's enough to make a girl try anything. Even....match.

But enough whining and self-pity. I am trying to be positive and grateful. It could always be worse. I like to say to myself, "There's always next weekend!"