New Year's Peeve

Greetings from Virginia! I will fill you in on my new life here later, with details about The Most Frustrating and Neverending Move Ever in the History of Relocations, The Magical Weight Loss Phenomenon and The Vague Job with Unavailable Boss (Through No Fault of Her Own). All you need to know at this moment is that

A) I love Richmond already.
B) My love life has already gone to shit, if you can believe it. Luckily, this has not impacted A (see above). Yet.

You may have noticed that it is almost 9pm on New Year's Eve. And I am blogging. In my jammies. Alone. What, did you think things would be different, now that I am out of horrible Savannah? That just because I am closer to my family and finally back where I feel at home that my romantic endeavors would be any different than they always have been? Or perhaps it's because last year's NYE was absolutely amazingly fun and awesome? Oh, my little naive readers. You know I can't let this year end without yet another crash-and-burn tale from my dating life, or lack thereof. Although I got down to the wire, I did manage to squeeze one final story into 2011 for you.

2011 started with a great dating story and it will end with another. Ok, I guess last year's NYE wasn't totally amazing and fun by the time it was over. But it most certainly started off that way, and it was a helluva lot better than the way this one is shaping up. Let me explain.

Thanks to the intervention of several friends and/or relatives, I was talked into (read: dragged kicking and screaming) signing up for eHarmony (emphasis on "harm") late last summer. Since you pay for it 3 months' at a time, I had completely forgotten that it would automatically renew itself, so after 3 months of guys who didn't even sound good on paper, I got to -- surprise! -- get automatically charged for another 3 months' of depressing dating prospects! Well, by the time I realized that this had happened, I was in the midst of leaving Savannah to move to Richmond. And they don't do refunds. So I had another 3 months' worth of prepaid virtual dating to burn through. Ever the Pollyanna/mental nimrod/glutton for punishment that I am when it comes to dating, I decided I would just update my eHarmony profile to list Richmond as my location and keep on trying. I am new in town. What else was I going to do with my free time?

Well, I was very pleasantly surprised, let me tell you. Not only were the men better looking in Richmond, but they were better educated, too, with more interesting jobs. Gone were the Savannah hipster bartenders who looked like they don't bathe and the desperate-for-any-female military men. (I do support our men in uniform, heck, my brother is a vet for pete's sake, but what is with their desperation to get girlfriends? It is seriously freaky. I wish they would work on that, collectively.) The guys in Richmond seem...pretty great, actually! Woo hoo!

There were a few that seemed pretty good, but one stood out above the rest. MM was just the right age, looked like he knew how to have a good time and was pretty good looking. I had looked at his profile about 3 times before I realized that in this one photo, there was a kid. He looked so good in the photo, I literally didn't even see the kid, who turns out to be one of his daughters. Yes, he has 2 daughters and an ex-wife. That's a decent amount of baggage, but I like kids and I am trying to be more open minded about stuff like that. I haven't been dating much lately (read: at all...for 2 years....). I just wanted someone who seemed like fun. So we started emailing, which progressed to texting.

He was great! He was flirtatious, funny and seemed interested in me. He asked me out and we booked a date. We were going to meet for dinner in The Fan, which is the old home/cool boutiques/best restaurants area of Richmond. I was pretty stoked. It was my first date in *ahem* over 2 years (except for the blind date where I was a cougar and we didn't really hit it off anyway, so I am not even going to link to that post). I had an outfit picked out and was kind of excited to do some in-person flirting with MM.

That is, until he canceled on me the day before. Something about work being really crazy and he had to work late on the night of our date. Ok, well, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, I thought. It's the holidays, and everyone is a little crazy right now. So we rescheduled. And then I cried a little, because I was so disappointed. Normally, I have a rule against dating guys who make me cry, but since this was a work thing, it wasn't his fault. So we ended up just texting for another week. (I began to get annoyed at the texting after a while...why not just call me? So much easier and less sketchy.) Things got very flirtatious, though. It's so easy to flirt via text...where was I?

Our first date went well...even though he was a little bit late. (Again, I try to give people the benefit of the doubt on first dates. They can be nerve-wracking. So I let it slide. He had texted me to say he was running a little late, so that helped.) The food was good and we had good conversation, but what was odd was the complete and total lack of flirting going on. And he was sitting a little farther away from me than I would have preferred. This, from the guy who, earlier in the week, was asking me some very PG-13 questions via my phone (some I would not even answer because they were a little too personal). This same guy, who had been talking up a big storm about kissing me, was acting like we were on a totally blind date. It was very odd.

He also did most of the talking, which is one of my first date pet peeves. I like a healthy split of getting to know each other, not the entire sordid story of why your marriage broke up. All I asked was how long he had been divorced. I didn't really need to know that she cheated and lied and all that other stuff. It's not really any of my business and made me a little uncomfortable.

I switched topics and asked him about his family. He describes his mother as "manipulative and controlling" and I could see a little red flag pop up. Now, anyone who knows me at all knows that my mother drives me nuts and I believe The Czarina to be a major control freak, but I would never describe her as manipulative, and I certainly wouldn't tell any of that to someone I just met. This, combined with his description of his ex-wife and a couple of bad dates he'd been on recently caused me to make a joke about how he'd bad mouth me later, too. He assured me I was a very pleasant surprise and that I was as attractive in person as I was in my photos. That was a relief. I decided that I would keep my ears peeled for more misogynistic comments, but the little things he said weren't instant deal breakers. For all I knew, it could have been nerves.

I decided to focus on how good looking he was and how good he smelled. And how to get him to sit closer to me. I decided to take off my jacket, exposing a black sequined top that was cut just low enough to be date-worthy, but not slutty. I could feel his eyes right where I wanted them to be. And although he did angle his body towards me a little more and put his arm on the back of the booth, his rear remained firmly in place...too far away for any serious flirting to take place. Rats. I guess that's what I got for telling him the he's not allowed to kiss me on our first date. Oh the joys of trying to pretend to be good when I really don't want to be..........

Our date got better as the night wore on. Aside from the comments about his mom and ex and my unsuccessful attempt to get him to scoot closer, it went well. It went so well that he asked me for a 2nd date just before hugging me goodbye. I was stoked.

Then, all this week, he went back to the vicious flirting and regular texting. I told him I was tired of texting and just wanted to talk, so he called me. After the phone call, he texted me to say how much he likes hearing my voice on the phone. He even asked my favorite question in the whole world: "When can I see you again?". *sigh* I love that question. At this point, I am thinking we are definitely having a super hot makeout session on Date #2. Even if I have to wear a super slut-tastic shirt this time. I can't take it anymore.

Two hours before he's supposed to pick me up for our second date, he texts me.

Would you be pissed if I asked you if we could reschedule for next week?

"If you have to ask that question, you already know the answer, douchebag," I thought. I texted back: So you're canceling on me again?

I am so sorry, he replied.

At this point, I am about to punch a wall I am so pissed. I don't reply. When I get home from work, he texts me again: I am so sorry. If you don't ever want to talk to me again, I totally understand.

Now, I am not stupid. I know that if you really liked someone, you would never say that, out of fear they'd take you up on the idea. He wanted out, but didn't want to be the bad guy. This guy has really mastered texting. He uses it to say all sorts of things he doesn't have the balls to say in person. Despite texting me every day, despite all his little innuendos about sleeping with me, despite the compliments he gave me, despite asking me out a 2nd time...he wanted out. Why, I don't know. And I never will know. Because I replied with

Good. Because I don't.

The worst part was, he never replied to that text.

Thursday 13: The Nice Guy

A couple of posts back, Kraig left me a link to a well-written blog post about the problems facing Nice Guys and what to do about it. (I know, Stuckey, I can practically see your ears perking up at this topic!) I really liked it, and would have left a comment, but I'm sure in the 150 or so comments left there already, someone else has probably already said what I would say.

Some of my male readers worry that the Southern Gentleman is dead. I worry that the Nice Guy is dead. Too often he is rumored to be a Nice Guy, when really, he is one of these:

The Doormat (definitely the most common!)
The Asshole who Just Has Nice Manners
The Mama's Boy
Issues Guy
The "All I Have to Offer You is Nice" Guy
The Still-In-the-Closet Guy
Nice for the First 6 Months Guy
Mr. Smoke & Mirrors

There are so many more. I can't even continue to go on and on about this, or else this post will end up being too long. Besides, my point here is not to describe what ISN'T Nice Guy, my goal is to describe what I think a Nice Guy embodies. I have based this list off of qualities I have admired in my father, my brothers, guy pals of mine, good friends of the family and boyfriends (mine and others').

Note: The following list is just my own, humble opinion. I have no idea if any other girl on Earth will agree with this post. If this list is absurd, then I guess we all know why I'm single, right? Ok, here goes.

1. He has a healthy relationship with his family, especially his mother. Note: He is NOT a Mama's Boy. There is a difference between calling her once a week and eating dinner at her house every night. The relationship with the mother is key, for that usually translates into all of his relationships with women. Nice Guys like women. They enjoy their company, their mannerisms and they find women very entertaining and nurturing beings to be near. They respect and enjoy women, even if it's not a woman they are romantically interested in. They are just happy that women exist. This plays a big role in why they are good husbands.

2. He is nice to strangers, animals, old people and children (not just women he is hoping to date, like the article seems to imply). He may even go out of his way to make their lives better: leaving a nice tip, helping them cross the street, getting the kitty down from the tree -- all without the hope of getting any sort of reward. Kind of like Superman. Just saving the day, one problem at a time. He has the ability to feel sympathy, empathy and concern for others. He is thoughtful and considerate. But he is not a Doormat or a Crier or overly emotional about it. He just realizes that we are all human (or living creatures) and deserve respect. He enjoys putting smiles on people's faces. He is a good father, neighbor, boss and citizen.

3. He has manners. Please and thank-you (and yes, door openings) don't happen as often as they should these days. Good manners are refreshing. Again, the manners are not done in order to get a reward. He would be behaving the same way if no one were watching. Total Assholes don't usually have manners.

4. He doesn't draw unnecessary attention to himself, instead preferring to remain low-key and un-flashy. The word "humble" comes to mind. He understands that it is possible to be confident and successful without shoving it in everyone's faces or bragging about it.

5. He is a hard worker with goals. He is not a moocher or a loafer. He doesn't live in his parents' basement. He hasn't been unemployed for a year straight. He makes the best out of bad situations, so if the economy goes in the shitter, and he finds himself frying french fries for a living, dammit, he's going to be the best fry fryer on the East Coast. Or whatever. He'd rather be making minimum wage and living in a shack than moving back in with Mom & Dad.

6. He doesn't think it's acceptable to break the law. Nice Guys are not into drugs, violence, shady business dealings, throwing bodies in the East River or "borrowing" things. Nothing in their house "fell off a truck". In fact, there's nothing sketchy about him at all. He's a regular, upstanding citizen. He's not even all that keen on strip clubs or porn. Too much of it makes him uncomfortable. This is because he respects women.

7. He is reliable and understands how to step up to the plate when the chips are down. Or whatever that phrase is. You know what I mean. The Nice Guy is the one who doesn't complain when the Boss asks him to stay late. He's the guy who volunteers to drive their neighbor to the airport. He does what he says he will do. You can count on him. He volunteers to go out of his way when he sees someone needs his help. (Again, he expects nothing in return!)

8. He is confident and knows who he is and what he stands for. He knows he's a good catch and a good person. He knows what he likes and what he wants. He doesn't need anyone's second opinion or reassurance. He seems to have an innate understanding of what is right/wrong and what he wants out of life. People have an easy time believing this, because it oozes from his pores. He's not boastful or full of himself. Just confident.

9. He expects to be treated in the same way he treats others: with honesty, dignity and respect. He is not a Doormat who puts up with abuse or neglect. He is not controlling, nor does he demand that people treat him a certain way. He does not shirk responsibility or try and pretend like no one's feelings were hurt. He wants to see problems resolved fairly, even if it means admitting his own faults.

10. He respects himself and holds himself to high standards. He's not going to be getting hammered every weekend like a frat boy. He's not going to turn into a fat slob. He doesn't think playing video games is the best way to spend a Saturday. He doesn't procrastinate or see what he can get away with in life. Nice Guys strive for self-improvement most of the time. (They aren't robots -- everyone needs ice cream and a nap now and then!) By having self-respect and maintaining his personal standards, as a result, he is both mature and interesting. Which makes people respect him even more.

11. He is wonderfully masculine. He is a guy's guy. He's not effeminate in any way, even though he loves being around women. In fact, he's very comfortable being manly. He is funny and laid-back and confident (gosh, I keep using that word!). He puts others at ease while still being a fun and energetic person. He usually has projects going on -- a new fun idea or hobby. He's never bored. He never expects others to entertain him. He enjoys manly things -- cars, explosives, sports, scotch, model airplanes, cigars, feats of engineering -- but is also cultured in some way. He reads. Or enjoys opera. Or likes art. Or can hold a discussion about philosophy. No one thinks he's gay or a wuss because he is cultured, because he also enjoys the stereotypically manly things. He oozes manliness from his pores. He's not afraid to pick up the reins and run the show if necessary or call people out when they have crossed the line. He's got balls.

12. He is living for something beyond himself. He possesses the ability to see the world as more than just HIM. He realizes how he can make an impact and leave the world a better place. He has a passion about it, actually. He has morals, ethics and believes in something, whether it's God or the kindness of strangers or just the perfection of Mother Nature. Whatever.

13. He is stable. And not just job-wise. He is the sort of guy you never have to worry about. He's not going to have a breakdown or suddenly change who he is. What you see is what you get.

I think the term "Nice Guy" needs to be changed. It implies he is nice, and nothing more. When women speak of wanting a Nice Guy, I think they really mean they are looking for a Good Man. So that is the term I will use. Because when women state they are looking for a "Nice Guy", they want so much more than just someone who isn't a jerk. They have dated jerks -- probably a variety of them. They want someone who is totally different.

So the next time a guy whines about how he IS nice, I think he should remember that there is so much more to it than just NOT being a jerk. Guys are looking for a "Nice Girl" -- but they don't mean she's ONLY nice. Right? There are plenty of nice sluts running around. Plenty of nice, ugly girls. Women are no different than men -- we are all looking for the total package.

Good Men are attractive, and I don't necessarily mean physically. They have this aura about them. Yes, they usually smell good or wear French cuff links. But sometimes they wear hard hats and smell like sweat. In any case, there is something about them that is incredibly desirable. And that makes them HOT.

Most "Nice Guys" complain about how women do not give them credit, or don't date them or treat them like crap. I think there are two reasons behind this feeling:

1. They are not dating Nice Girls. I think only Nice Girls recognize, appreciate and value Good Men. Girls who are too young, too inexperienced, too stupid, too selfish and too immature wouldn't be able to spot a Good Man if he slapped her in the face. You think a total bitch, a gold digger or a stupid slut would see a Good Man for who he is? And appreciate it? I seriously doubt it.

2. They only THINK they are a Good Man. In actuality, they do not possess (IMHO) all of the above characteristics. They are nice enough. They embody a lot of the qualities I've just listed. But something's.......missing. And Nice Girls know this. That's why it doesn't work out.

By the way, if anyone knows of a guy like this, and he's single, please send him my way. Thanks.

And I would LOVE it if a guy wrote a post describing a "Good Woman". What is the other side of the coin?

Have I missed any Good Man characteristics?

Alright, I'm sure I have ruffled enough feathers for one day. I am prepared to be ripped to pieces. Have at it.

Thursday 13: Tips for Guys

[This is actually a post I wrote a while back, but never actually published. And no, Cute Neighbor still hasn't officially made a date with me. Bummer, I know. But let's not dwell, ok?]

Lots of dating/relationship posts popping up these days. I thought I'd put together a handy-dandy list of my own. And yes, of course, all of this is open for debate. Obviously, I cannot claim to be an expert on dating or male/female relationships at all. Exhibit A: my currently abysmal dating life.

Ok, here we go. Uh-oh, I feel a new series of posts coming on....

13 Dating Tips for Guys: Getting the Digits

1. Alright, so you like a girl. Now, before you run around town, wasting her time and yours, let's stop and think about whether or not it would be a good idea to ask her out in the first place. If you are dating someone else, you obviously need to deal with that first. Assuming you're all clear in that department, please, keep reading. Have you heard anything about Crush Girl? What do you already know? Do her friends seem normal? Have you seen any potential red flags (for example, an annoying laugh, a bad habit, obsessive tendencies, a bad temper, an affinity for talking about her ex)? Does she have an actual brain in her head, or do you really just want to bang her? Have all your conversations with her been in the presence of who-knows-how-much alcohol? Hmmm. Perhaps it's good to stop and consider these sorts of things. You might want to change your strategy from "dinner date" to "booty call". Which is totally fine, if that's what she wants, too. But that's a different post. Let's assume you want to take this girl out to dinner. If you don't know jack squat about her, other than she seems great, you need to do some work. Talk to her! What are you waiting for? Her new boyfriend to show up? Go!!

2. Continuing on with the "Is this even a good idea?" thing: proceed with caution under more specific circumstances. Examples of things to consider include: Do you work together? Has she ever dated one of your friends? Is she a friend of your sister's? Is she a friend of your ex-girlfriend's? Is she a neighbor? Is she your boss? Is she of legal age?Is she currently going through a personal crisis, such as divorce, a death in the family, a chemical addiction or major surgery? Is she famous/a local celebrity? I'm not saying it's a bad idea to ask her out if one of these applies (well, unless she's underage, in which case, you're a big perv). I'm just saying, tread carefully, and don't take it personally if you get shot down. If these women were traffic signals, they would be orange cones or flashing yellows.

You're still interested in asking her out? Ok, great. Let's get down to business.

3. Let's start with times/places where it is appropriate to ask a woman for her number. Good places include: parties, bars, Starbuck's, bookstores, Blockbuster, Target, parks, waiting rooms, waiting in line, and maybe even the gym (unless you are really stinky and sweaty!). Bad places include: funerals, work, a corner you've literally backed her into, beauty salons, closing time at the bar, baby showers (why would you even be at a baby shower in the first place??), anywhere where large numbers of people could possibly hear her rejecting you or in front of your Mom. In short, catch her when she's relaxed, sociable and happy. Don't interrupt Girl Time, her presentation to the Boss's Boss or put yourself at risk of job loss/major humiliation. She shouldn't feel there is any pressure. Are we all clear on the boundaries involved in when/where to ask her out? If you have any questions, let me know in the comments. I'm sure there are situations I haven't covered.

4. Is there any way to know ahead of time if she will say yes, thereby avoiding rejection? In a word, no. Unless you can read her mind. I'm sorry to tell you that. But you see, the very FIRST thing you must learn to understand about women is that EVERY WOMAN IS TOTALLY DIFFERENT. If there is one thing I wish men knew, it's that. So memorize it, write it on the back of your hand, tattoo it on your forehead if you want. I hate to break it to you, guys. But sometimes, you just gotta cross your fingers.

I could tell you signs that I give when I'm hoping a guy is going to ask for my digits (I will make perverted jokes, pull my hair off my neck, ask lots of questions, laugh at his jokes, avoid talking about ANY other guys and probably stare entirely too much), but that is ME. And unless you are wanting to ask me out, you just wasted 20 seconds reading that last sentence. So while I cannot tell you IF she will say yes, I can tell you that your chances will be better if you do the following:

5. You wait until the right opportunity: Women do like a guy who makes himself useful. Did she drop something? Does she need a light? Is she having a hard time hailing a cab? Is there some creepy drunk guy annoying her? -- these sorts of things are perfect conversation starters. Plus, as an added bonus, you can see if she's grateful/polite to strangers. Anyway, let's assume you've passed the hurdle of the initial small talk. It's going well if you have been chatting for a while and you are alone (remember, you don't want to be rejected in front of her friends!). If she is interested, she will be trying to get you alone anyway. It is key that you wait for a while, listening and talking to her, before you ask her out so that you don't come off as the guy who is only trying to get in her pants. Don't be the guy who asks out anything that breathes. We pick up on those guys pretty quickly, and it's really insulting, and makes you seem desperate. Wait until she realizes you like her personality and brains, too. If she's still talking to you after 30 minutes, you're probably golden. 5 minutes? Eh....you need to chat her up some more.

6. You avoid cheesiness in your approach: No pickup lines, please. Ever. Seriously, those things should be illegal. If you're in a bar, and you are checking a girl out, try and introduce yourself. What a concept, I know. Try, "Hi. I'm John. You look like you need a drink/laugh/pretend boyfriend. May I be of service?" And go from there. It helps if you have something witty to say. Everyone likes a good laugh. It breaks the ice. Don't panic if something terrible happens. As awful as it sounds, one guy successfully got my digits after he spilled a drink ALL OVER ME. But he said something funny, and bought me a diet coke. So don't worry if you do something klutzy. It can be endearing, and not all is lost. But funny is better. If you're not amazingly witty, try giving her a compliment. Girls never EVER get tired of being told they are beautiful or smart or interesting. You can try and be funny later. DO NOT comment/compliment on ANY sexually related physical attributes or you will make her feel like a piece of meat. I don't care if she's half naked. Don't make any comments about her boobs, ass, belly chain or legs. Good things to compliment include: her perfume, her eyes, her laugh, her smile, her amazing knowledge of the War of 1812. Don't compliment her shoes or bag unless you want her to wonder if you're gay. And also, do not touch her, unless invited to, or if she touches you first. Just because we are dressed like hookers, doesn't mean we want to be treated as such. I realize this makes no sense. Deal.

7. You come off as a nice guy: That means, you aren't dressed in raggedy clothes, you don't smell like motor oil, you are relatively sober, you are polite and you are in a good mood. If you are grungy or drunk or pissed off at all, do not ask her out. Just go home, please. Please do not be the Bragger, who brags about himself, hoping to impress the girl. Ugh. We all hate those guys who make a point of telling the girl about his BMW. Well, maybe some girls like it. Gold diggers, probably. Please do not be Pressure Man, who thinks he can talk his way into a date. You're not pitching a sale. No means no, motherfucker. Trying to change her mind will only annoy her. Just leave. Please do not be Anti-Women Man. If you're still reeling from your most recent breakup, please do not advertise this by littering your conversation with anti-women, anti-feminism comments. Newsflash: We don't like that. (You'd be amazed to know how many guys think we will be excited to go out with them after hearing about what a "cheating, lying bitch" their ex was.)

8. You come off as a normal guy: You are not dressed like Darth Vader (unless it's Halloween, in which case, by all means, use that 'Dark Side' line because it works every time), you do not start every conversation with, "My mom always said...", you do not tell stories about kicking dogs. (Oh yes, I am speaking from experience!) Is it too much to ask that you keep your dryer lint collection to yourself for a while? Remember: women are analytical by nature. We loooove to pick men apart. Trust me, you don't want to fuel this fire. Stash your issues, obsessions and medications at home. It's always better to be boring and normal than weird. Trust me.

9. You come off as yourself: being a little nervous is cute (I know guys hate that word, but really, it's a good thing). Being fake is not. Most girls will see right through that stuff. Don't beat yourself up about your faults/receding hairline/inability to spell. But do realize that girls like confident guys. If you don't like yourself, we will be on to you. So don't ask us out unless you like yourself. Take a deep breath, realize women are not perfect either and know that she's either going to say yes or she's not. Don't think you can talk her out of it. (See "Pressure Man", above.)

In general, your goal should be this: Polite, Confident and Funny. THAT is the ideal approach, in a nutshell. Few women are going to say they would not like that guy.

10. Signs you need to abort mission: she is ignoring you, whispering to her girlfriends in front of you, suddenly has to go to the bathroom, refers to her "boyfriend", flirts with your wingman and isn't doing lots of smiling/laughing/touching around you. You can't seem to get her into a one-on-one conversation. Also, she hasn't made eye contact with you at all. These are classic signs that if you ask, she will say no. Maybe even hell no. Best to pack up, and move on to someone more worthy. Try your best not to be The Guy Who Needs A Clue.

11. Ok, let's say everything is going swimmingly. She's laughing at your jokes, touching your arm and winking. You are thinking of getting her digits. Thinking some more. Weighing the pros/cons.....oh, shit. She just left. You totally missed your chance. Next time: Just. Go. For. It. Most single girls I know (*crickets chirp*) -- ok, there aren't many single girls left here in Columbia. But really, most single girls I've talked to are still old-fashioned enough to want the guy to make the first move. And we would LOVE to be asked out. Some more than others. Because some of us haven't been on a date in 8 months. *ahem* And since women give well over 100 signs when flirting with men, contrasted with men's 4, she's probably already interested and you just don't know it. She probably already knows you're interested, too. It's not like we are clueless, trust me. Guys are pretty easy to figure out. But she's not going to wait around all night, flirting like mad and getting no response. Hot Girls have things to do and people to see. We don't make total idiots out of ourselves until much later.

12. If you have missed your chance at getting the digits, and she's gone, what do you do? Use your resources. You know she likes the bar/store/street where you just talked to her. Maybe she will be back there next weekend. Did she tell you where she works? Lives? Her last name? Now, I'm not advocating stalking, because TRUST ME, that will never work. But they do make these things called "phone books", and some girls still have their numbers in there. And if you just happen to be at that little deli near where she works around lunchtime, I betcha you might run into her. If she mentioned a hobby or a pet, go to places where those sorts of people go. But above all, learn your lesson: Strike While the Iron is Hot. Good things come to those who go for it. The ballsy guy gets the girl. (Oh, that was awful. I'll stop now.)

Wait, wait wait. What do you mean, "that's too much work"? Ahhhh....then you must not have really wanted to get those digits in the first place. Am I right??? So go find her! Just say something along the lines of, "Hi. I'm John from the other night. I really meant to ask for your number, but I wussed out because I'm an idiot. So can I have it now? I'd really like to take you out to dinner." -- This will probably work. We like it when you acknowledge your stupidity. Plus, she will be flattered that you tracked her down. Unless you are knocking on her kitchen window when you do this. In which case, you've crossed the Stalker Threshold, and have totally missed the point of this post.

13. Ok, so you've got the digits! Score! Do you call right away? Do you wait 3 days? 5 days? A week? Like I said, EVERY WOMAN IS DIFFERENT. A good rule of thumb is this: the less she knows you, the sooner you should call. Have you been working with her for months? Wait a few days. Did you talk to her for 10 minutes at a bar? Call a little sooner. Don't be the guy who waits so long that she's forgotten who the hell you are. At the same time, you want to show you aren't desperate and that you have a life. (Refer to the infamous scene in Swingers if you don't know what I mean.) I know, it's hard. But I will tell you that waiting as long as possible will drive her crazy. That's a good thing, in this case. Also, if you get her digits on a Saturday, she's probably giving you until about the following Wednesday to call. Does that give you a good rule of thumb? Wait too much longer, and she will convince herself that you are a jerk and/or you aren't really that into her.

This also might be a good time to stop and think about what kind of a girl she is. If she's more laid-back, not Southern and a sort of "go with the flow" kind of girl, you can call whenever the hell you want.

But if she's like me, you should wait at least 48 hours.

Then again, every woman is different.....

Next installment: How to Plan & Execute Date #1

Observations

As you can probably tell, my life is still fairly ho-hum. But I can provide you with some interesting observations from the weekend.

Friday night, I met up with KT and got to meet her new boyf. I will call him Scary, because that is pretty much everyone's first impression of this guy. His main hobby is competing in weight lifting contests, and he's bald. He's also about 6'3". Ever go to a bar and you see that one guy, and you look at him and think, "Ok, I am NOT going to piss him off!"? -- that's KT's Scary. He is, for better lack of a better term, massively ripped. So I'm sure you've got an accurate picture in your head now.

I arrived at the Flying Saucer (a popular bar here in town), somehow beating KT there. I noticed there were lots of cuties around, and I think I was getting the eye from a group nearby. WOOT! Five minutes later, she arrived. We chatted for a bit while we waited for Scary to park the car. There were lots of guys in the bar, and I was in the mood to flirt with strangers.

Once Scary arrived, I saw how not only the dynamics of the bar changed, but so did my abilities to catch guys' eyes. Oh, they approached us. They just didn't want to talk to me. (Ok, pick your jaw up. Shocker, I know. How different than usual....riiiiiiight.) They wanted to talk to Scary. Random guys kept approaching him and asking him for workout/diet advice. One guy even walked up to him and said, "So, how does it feel to be the biggest guy in here?" -- understandably, Scary was kind of annoyed by all of this. He just wanted to drink some beer and relax.

This is when I began to wonder: Is Scary unintentionally cock-blocking me? Not that hotties line up in bars to hit on me (ha! I wish!) , but the two guys I saw checking me out when I arrived had disappeared instantly from the moment Scary showed up. This was a relief to Almost Girl, who would have no earthly clue what to do if a cute, normal guy (presumably one who also shared lots of her interests and hobbies, too) actually asked her out on a real date.

So I guess I'm asking all of my normal, presumably non-body-builder male readers: Would you approach a single girl if her friend's boyfriend could beat you to a bloody pulp in an instant? Keep in mind, most of the night we were in a booth and KT and Scary exhibited body language indicating they were dating, and I was across from them, all by myself. Was Scary cock-blocking me?

*Special note to KT, who I know is reading this: I think Scary is a sweet guy, and I am NOT mad about anything. So you can just stop thinking that right now. It's all good in da hood. I'm just making conversation with my readers. Just a thought I had when we were sitting there.*

Now that I have clarified that to KT, I will move on to my next male/female relationship observation.

Yesterday, B & E invited a bunch of people over for a cookout. All the girls were sitting in chairs in the driveway, talking, when B informed us that another couple (I will them Mr. and Mrs. Chemical, since he works with chemicals) would soon be joining us.

E said, "Oh boy. I can't wait. I just love her so much." -- very deadpan.

"Whoa. What's the problem?" W and I asked.

"Did I ever mention Mrs. Chemical to you guys?" she said.

"Mrs. Chemical....." I said, trying to place the name.

E reminded us. Yes, she had mentioned her before. Apparently, one night B & E met up with the Chemicals for dinner. As they were being seated, B muttered something which ticked E off. It wasn't anything major, just an ongoing tiff they had been having. "Oh, B, please. Don't do that now. Please. Just stop," E said. And that was the end of it -- they ended up talking about it after dinner on the way home. No problem, not a big deal.

Mrs. Chemical turns to E and says, "Next time, why don't y'all keep the drama at home, ok?" and went back to reading the menu.

As you can imagine, this didn't sit too well with E, who had just met her that very evening. And since it was just a tiff and they didn't even continue the conversation at the table, E really felt Mrs. Chemical was out of line for saying that. And I have to say, I agree. So E is not what you would call Mrs. Chemical's Biggest Fan.

Butter confirmed that yes, she was a major bitch in general, and this was just one of many incidents she and E had had with Mrs. Chemical since meeting her.

"Oh, man, I don't want to meet her!" I said.

Unfortunately, Mr. Chemical is good friends with B. And now that Mr. Chemical's married, Mrs. Chemical doesn't let him hang out with his buddies anymore. (Oh yes, she's one of those wives.) She thinks that B (and all the other guys) are a bad influence on him because B does like to do admittedly stupid things when he drinks. It's nothing harmful, like drunk driving or fist fights, but more along the lines of stupid tricks which can land you in the Emergency Room. Give a guy horseshoes, darts and large quantities of beer and yes, you will see some stupidity in about 2 hours. That's just how guys are. It's no reason to forbid him from hanging with his buddies.

So it's a big deal that Mr. Chemical can even hang out. He must have been on good behavior, because his wife let him out for a whole 2 1/2 hours to play with his friends.

True to her reputation, W and I are introduced to Mrs. Chemical, and she is most definitely caustic. (Ok, that was a bad joke, I know.) She flopped down into the remaining empty chair, arms crossed over her chest, making little to no eye contact with us and refusing our offers of food and beverage.

It was 6pm and 98 degrees. I know the bitch was thirsty. It is impossible to sit in 98 degree weather in SC and not drink something. Plus, it was dinnertime, and we were grilling out burgers and dogs. Who doesn't want to eat that? Apparently, she was too good for our food, beer and cokes. "Oh whatever, I hope you shrivel up and die, anyway," I remember thinking to myself.

Getting her to talk was even worse. We received one-word answers, negative statements and no inquiries in return. It was like pulling teeth, really. I had to bite my tongue from just opening my big, fat mouth and shouting, "WTF is your problem, anyway? If you don't want to be here, then why didn't you just stay home?" I think that if I ever have to be around her again, I might just actually say that to her....it's a good thing I don't drink, because I seriously would have probably said that if I'd had some beer in my system! It soon dawned on me that she was only there so she could "babysit" her husband and make sure he didn't do anything "wrong".

At one point, W and I were in the kitchen alone, and she said, "Wow, isn't she charming?" to which I replied, "Oh, she's just a peach." We tried to figure out what her problem was while we picked at the cookies and brownies, but we gave up and went back outside.

Meanwhile, her husband, Mr. Chemical? Super sweet guy. Very normal and friendly. He seemed really excited to be there, and enjoyed all the food and beer he could handle. We talked about our careers and dogs (they have a Weimaraner) -- and the more I talked to him, the more I was confused as to how on earth he could be married to such a frigid bitch. She barked orders at him, announced when it was time to leave, was rude to his friends.....Seriously, it made no sense at all that they would even date, let alone marry. Perhaps it's because they were high school sweethearts and he just doesn't know any better? Perhaps he's sticking around, in the hopes that one day, she will give him his balls back? You can't tell me the sex is good. I would never buy that.

All I know is, while I don't approve of cheating, I could kinda understand if he did cheat on her one day.....I mean, imagine what she must be like at home, behind closed doors! Imagine having to live the rest of your life with someone like that. Some women believe in nagging and yelling at their men, thinking they know what's best for them. (I'm not talking about normal nagging, PMS or bad moods, I'm talking about the women who are ALWAYS on their man's case, 24/7, to the point where their friends constantly tease them about it. The women who make their guy feel like he can never do anything right.) And I see these women get results (ie, boyfriends, husbands, "well-trained" men, etc.). But I could just never get serious with someone for whom I have so little respect. I do not understand this behavior in women. And I do not understand the men who never tell these women to f--k off. I feel sorry for the men, but at the same time, it's their own fault for never sticking up for themselves. The whole thing just baffles me.

And to be perfectly honest, I don't want to be with someone who requires that much effort on my part! Am I nuts? Or just lazy? LOL

Observing her behavior, one thought kept running through my head, over and over: How are you married to a super nice guy, and I can't get a date? What is wrong with the Universe?

Do you know couples like this? What do you think? Can you explain this behavior? Because I don't get it! Guys, have you ever dated girls like this? If so, what happened? How did it get like that? What made you end it? Or marry her?

Ok, People...

I know it would be uber-exciting for all of you to read this blog on Monday morning and see that I boldly walked over to Hot Neighbor's house on Saturday, knocked on his door and balls-out asked him over for dinner.

But I am not living my life for your entertainment. (Surprise!!)

While I may have moments of frustration, desperation and temptation, we all know I'm never going to do that. Yeah. Hate to be the bucket of cold water to your nice, relaxing hot shower, but let's get real, people. I just don't do that. Why?

1. In the past, all of my experiences where I have been the bold, assertive person have blown up in my face. Sure, the guys were nice enough about it, and flattered. They may have gotten my number or taken me out a couple of times, or even dated me for 6 months. But in the end, every one of them has ended up being either totally forgettable or a major dating regret (ie, The Cop). So if this was a baseball game, I'd be batting about 0 for 5. Not much of a batting average. What is that quote? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results? I think pretty much sums it up.

2. I am not comfortable with doing it in the first place, nevermind how it always seems to end up. I have been groomed my whole life to be an old-fashioned dater, and I am comfortable with it. It feels natural to me. I enjoy being wooed and pursued. Maybe it's because I was raised in the South, maybe it's because I'm definitely not a feminist, maybe it's because my parents' courtship was so charming and old-fashioned that I've been spoiled by their romantic tales from the mid-1970s, and now will never settle for less. Maybe it's just because I'm a girly girl. Who knows. But I feel confident when I am pursued. Not so much when I am being the aggressor. It's just not me. I think part of happiness is knowing yourself.

3. I am not one to play with fate. I think if something is meant to happen, it will happen in its own time. Since when does my life have to conform to the schedule my overly-daydreaming mind has laid out? Good grief, if I did that, I'd have 2 kids and a time share by now. Pursuing guys makes me feel like I'm forcing a relationship to happen. This doesn't sit well with me, kind of like how you have indigestion after eating too much, too fast: I can continue on with the experience, but I feel very uncomfortable. I like to allow things to happen naturally and slowly. There's no rush. I have the rest of my life to meet men.

4. He's been living next door to me for 5 months, people. Think about how often you are home in a 5 month period. Think about how many times he and I have spoken. How many different ways he could have gotten in touch with me. We are talking about numerous opportunities, all of which he has chosen to miss. This is a classic case of He's Just Not That Into Me. Which is fine. I can live with that. It happens all the time. And it's far better than forcing him to go out with me on a flattery date, only to be directly and bluntly rejected by him down the road. This is far less painful. If he were all about me, he would have been willing to risk rejection and would have asked me out already. Oh, and let's not forget my awesome timing in the looks department -- he looooves to see me when I look like total crap. This does not help my cause. So please, guys, no excuses for him. Don't give me the whole, "he's new to dating again! ease up!" or "divorcees have no self-esteem, you're going to have to meet him halfway!" or whatever. Excuses for not asking me out are bullshit, if I do say so myself. I'm a fun girl, who is easy to hang out with. Plus, I have nice boobs. I think that pretty much covers most 1st date requirements....right? Ok then.

5. I like balls. I like men with balls who ask out women fearlessly. I'm starting to think he's not that kind of guy. I'm starting to think he might be a ninny. A pushover. A doormat. Someone who waits for a domineering woman to take over and run his life for him. I can't respect people like that. Why would I settle for dating one? So can someone please explain to me why I would make a whole lasagna from scratch (about $25 and 3 hours of time, btw) for someone who can't even be bothered to take a deep breath and ask me what I'm doing this weekend? Because the more I think about it, the less interested I am in the idea. He's not lasagna-worthy at this point. (Elaine had sponges, I have lasagna.)

That being said, I'm obviously going to have to kick it up a notch in the flirting department. I've got serious competition now--he DID find his balls long enough to ask Wednesday Skank out, obviously. (I will suspend my theory that she asked him out, for the time being.) So although I'm not going to make lasagna (what, you think he'll take one bite and instantly fall madly in love with me? Come on, look who has an overactive imagination now! I mean, I know I make good lasagna, but come on!), I am going to start gardening in low-cut tops and insert some winking into my conversations with Hot Neighbor. I don't mess with fate, but I'm not against giving her a little nudge from time to time.

P.S. Don't bother calling me a wuss. I've already labeled the post appropriately. Aw, did I take the wind out of your sails?

So...I have some pics to share with you. It's Toby.



Um, I didn't realize it when I took it, but Toby is looking right at Sammy's butt in this picture...


And in this one, he wouldn't hold still, which is why he's not centered in the frame. Don't you love my awesomely landscaped backyard lawn? It's coming along perfectly...NOT.
This morning, I got to start my day at 5:30. Why was I up at 5:30, you ask? Because Toby was barfing all over my bedroom. Awesome. At first, I was just annoyed. Too sleepy to be worried, I was just wanting him to go back to bed. But he kept making noises and then I could hear some sort of splatter, which made me get up and turn on the lights.

I put two and two together in my pre-caffeinated brain: Dog is not making annoying sounds for the heck of it, dog is barfing. That is when the worry set in. I grabbed him and held him over my bathroom sink (ew) so he could barf on something that wasn't my carpeting. The dog barf had blood in it. I freaked out. So now he's at the vet, and I'm worried, because I haven't heard from the vet all day. And he hasn't had any food today, either. My poor, little pound puppy. My poor, little, expensive-as-hell pound puppy....

Ha! Not only am I Barf Queen, but my new dog is a barfer, too. Aw, he will fit in so well....

Guess What???!!

No, I don't have Hot Neighbor news. Other than he's hot and I want him. Plus, I saw him half nekkid the other day. Mmmm...I am still savoring that.

Instead, I have DOG news!!! I am getting a 2nd dog. Ok, I have only 15 minutes to type this post, so here goes.

I have been looking for Boston Terrier #2 for several months. Since they are $300 from the breed rescue organization, I figured I'd just save up my money or get a part-Boston Terrier mutt.

Well, lo and behold, I am browsing the web the other day when I see: Purebred Boston Terrier, aged 3, for $73, in a shelter in Tennessee. It's a KILL shelter. So If I didn't act fast, the dog was going to be put down. With tears in my eyes, I called the shelter.

"Don't put him down! I want him!" I pleaded.

They said ok, and gave me directions to the shelter. I said I'd be there on Saturday (tomorrow).

Ten minutes later, they called me back, "We're sorry. We promised the dog to someone else this morning."

"Oh, that's ok," I said, my heart breaking. "I just didn't want him to be put down. Please call me if you ever get another Boston."

They said ok. I was disappointed, but happy the dog was adopted.

This morning, I got an email from the shelter. They misunderstood the person who was getting the dog. The good Samaritan only wanted to PAY for the dog's adoption fee ($73) so that it would not be put down. They didn't actually want to keep the dog.

So now, the dog was still available AND free. Wow. The exact dog I want, for FREE? No brainer decision. So tomorrow, I'll be on the road, driving up to get my new dog!!!!

He's just like Sammy-- same breed, same age, same gender. His name is Tyson, but due to the prize fighter/chicken company connotations of that name, I think I will change it to Toby. I love that for a dog name. And yes, I'm violating my own pet peeve AGAIN. Oh well. The first thing I'm doing is getting him neutered next week. Hopefully he and Sammy will get along until then, despite the fact that everything I've read says that having one intact dog and one fixed dog = problems. As usual, balls are complicating my life. Go figure.

Wish me luck! I have 8 hours of driving (4 hours each way) tomorrow in my POS car. Then I have to hope and pray that the two dogs get along. I think they will. Sammy likes everyone.

Oh, and here's a picture of him. Now I have TWO!!!!

Dummy, Chummy and Yummy, Part 2

I would like to start this post with the following information which is not directly related to this story, but begs to be shared with my readers anyway: I saw Hot Neighbor without his shirt on last night. Yeah. It was awesome. I was walking Sammy before bedtime, and he just pops out of his house with no shirt on. He was on the phone and sat down on his stoop to talk. He waved. I almost passed out. He looked good. Very, very yummy. And so today I have fantastic mental images....it's making my day go so much better than a regular Wednesday....*sigh*

Ok, back to the story of my weekend of almost-hookups with guys.

Saturday was St. Patty's Day, which meant spending the day in Five Points, the cultural (ie, bar) hub of town. This year's annual festival did not disappoint. KT, MJ and I enjoyed live music from Villanova and Loch Ness Johnny. I meant to catch The Movement and Corey Smith, but there were scheduling conflicts (ie, I forgot). I'm kind of mad at myself about this...but oh well.

Although windy, it was sunny and warm enough to be outside. I saw no one I knew which was really amazing, actually. Usually I run into umpteen friends there. I think it was because we got there so late--most of my friends had already gone. We enjoyed the music and beer for a while and then left to grab some dinner. By then it was starting to get pretty cold, so I went home and changed into something warmer. I met back up with MJ and KT at Flying Saucer. They were talking to some coworkers of KT's.

"Oh, hey, VB!" KT said. "This is my friend. You can call him Asshole," she said.

I looked to him, expecting him to protest. He didn't. "Hi. I'm an Asshole. I really am," he said.

I laughed and said, "Ok, you want to be called 'Asshole', I can call you Asshole!"

At 23, he classifies as BB, but he was still a cool guy. (BB stands for "baby balls", remember). He has a great sense of humor. Kinda cute, in a geeky way. He is mega-smart. (Who gets a masters degree in statistics????!) Definitely not an asshole, although as MJ adeptly pointed out, he does leave something to be desired in the manners department. I liked him right away. His friend seemed nice, too.

After about 15 minutes, MJ and KT paid their tabs and we were on our way to Art Bar to see Loch Ness Johnny play again. (Gotta love seeing your favorite local band play twice in one day!) I was kind of hoping the two BBs would come with us, but I didn't say anything.

Five minutes later, they showed up. The warm-up band started to play, but BB and I stayed in the main part of the bar, smoking and talking. We joined them later, but spent most of our time talking to each other.

The only bad thing was that for some reason, our conversations kept turning to awkward topics for me: alcoholism, my dad, my baby brother that died, MRSA, etc. He wasn't doing it on purpose, it's just the way the conversations wound up. He kept bringing up topics or asking questions I don't like to discuss around people I just met. "He's not very good at small talk, is he?" I asked KT later. "Nope." she answered.

I stopped mid-sentence at one point and said, "You're really good at making me feel uncomfortable. You have managed to bring up every awkward topic I don't like to talk about."

He apologized and we got back to more comfortable discussions. Despite the uncomfortable questions, I did enjoy his company. And although he has what I like to call "nibbly lips" (Orlando Bloom has "nibbly lips" in case you are wondering what I'm talking about), he's going to have to remain in the Friend Zone because he's just too young. I can't say that in a Xanax-induced fuzziness I won't grab him and make out with him one day, but for now, he's TFZ'd.

Oh yes, you read that correctly. I discovered Xanax this weekend. Not as good as vicodin, but it's a good time. Hey, when people offer me drugs, I take them. I'm not stupid.

But let's not get off track, now, ok? There's still one more guy I have to tell you about.

The rain check with Jack Steel never happened, by the way. I was relieved, as I had mulled it over in my brain and come to the conclusion that it was a bad idea to begin with. He's just too...stupid. Hooking up with stupid people is not fun at all. I'd rather suck face with BB.

Back to the story. This is the Yummy part.

So the other day, I had just gotten home from work when an ambulance, lights flashing, pulled into my neighborhood. I was concerned, since most of my neighbors are elderly.

The EMTs hopped out and ran up to Miss Margie's house. She is my favorite neighbor (well, besides Hot Neighbor, obv.). Very sweet older lady. She has a very naughty dachshund named Daisy.

I swear to God this is going somewhere, guys. Just hang with me.

So the EMTs put Miss Margie on a gurney and throw her in the back of the ambulance and haul her off to the hospital. Since her kids were there, I figured Daisy would be ok. I was worried about Miss Margie, but didn't want to bother them, so I didn't get to ask what had happened. I figured she couldn't have been too sick, because she was talking and awake when she was on the gurney.

She's home from the hospital now, and last night I was out walking Sammy when I saw her. She and Daisy were out, too. So I got the chance to find out what had happened to her. She had a hernia which pressed on her esophagus and makes it hard for her to breathe and eat. She is probably going to have to have surgery, but she's fine. I told her I was glad she was ok and that if she ever needed me to watch Daisy to let me know.

"Oh, you're so nice. You know, that's what Hot Neighbor was saying the other day," she said.

"Oh.....yeah?" I said.

"Yes, he said you were so sweet and such a nice girl. He wanted to know how old you are, so I told him you're 28," she said, looking over at me sideways. I think I saw a hint of a smile on her face.

"Really. That's interesting," I said.

"Uh huh. He's been working a lot lately," Miss Margie said.

"Yeah, I noticed," I replied.

We said goodnight and parted ways. My brain was spinning. I was so flabbergasted that I didn't even think to grill her for more information! But since she's not doing well, I told her I'd bring her some food later. Maybe I can grill her when I bring it over. I wonder what else she knows...

I am On Crack Today...

Greetings, Readers. Hope everyone is well. I am getting the urge to post, but nothing is really gelling, so this will probably sound like the rantings of a 12 year-old dealing with Ritalin withdrawl symptoms. My brain is ADD central right now. This post will be kinda goofy and random.

My tummy has been queasy lately. Off and on, not too badly. I think it's all the cake I've been eating lately. Thanks to my diet (13 pounds lost so far! Go me!), I don't eat a lot of sugar anymore. By coincidence, I've had a lot of cake and sugary items in the past week. I'm thinking it's not sitting well with my uber-sensitive tummy.

And I know what you are thinking. No, I have not been having up-against-the-wall, hot, nasty, animal-noise making, sweaty, monkey sex with Hot Neighbor. *pauses to imagine so described sexual encounter*

I am NOT (repeat) NOT pregnant.

No, in fact, I've been very busy not having sexual encounters of any kind. [Insert chorus of "Awwww...." here] Which is getting old, but let's not throw a pity party, ok? Ok.

Hot Neighbor has been out of town and/or working long hours lately. So I have had no opportunities to get my flirt on. HOWEVER, I do have some leftover lemon-almond-sour cream pound cake that must leave my house or else it will just ruin my diet! And who but Hot Neighbor can eat it? Hmmmm..can't think of anyone. Everyone I know is on a diet. Oh well. Guess I'll have to donate it to my hot, lonely, eats-pizza-and-other-non-homemade-food-for-dinner neighbor. Shucks. Hate when that happens. I mean, what guy wants to be seduced by homemade baked items? Maybe I can wear a whip cream bikini....he might need some for the cake. *daydreams again*

And despite all my myspace hunting abilities, I don't think the cute guy I met last Friday has a myspace page. I tell ya, it's hard being a myspace stalker. You have to prepare yourself for disappointment. Fingers crossed he will be there again this week at Happy Hour.

I just realized that my weekend is starting tonight. Not in the "Woo-Hoo, I have a long weekend because I took some days off!" way, but in the "I am a slave to my social life and I still think I'm 21!!" kind of way.

I will be regretting this decision to go out tonight and tomorrow....it will all hit me at approximately 6:15am on Friday morning. But right now, I'm excited. Woooooh! Party!!

Tonight is a friend's birthday, tomorrow is stirring up trouble with MJ & KT, Friday is Happy Hour and Saturday is the annual St. Patty's Day Festival. (Which will be about 12 hours in duration and WAY fun.)

Did I mention that I'm still adjusting to daylight savings time? Yeah..."nap" doesn't even begin to explain what I will need.

My stomach, ass and entire upper body are killing me right now from my 2 hour Suicide Mission at the gym last night. Sometimes I get really into working out, so I figure I'll take advantage of it, and then I try to see if I can give myself a heart attack on the elliptical machine. The good news? I did three push-ups on my toes last night. (Read: This is nearly impossible for me to do normally. Shut up. I am a weakling. 3 is a lot for me.) The bad news? I am sooooooooooore. But the good kind. I don't need painkillers or anything like that.

Mmmmm....painkillers.

Have I ever told you that I like to make up songs? I do. (See? I told you I am ADD Girl today!) I like to sing (badly) and I like rhyming, hence my goofy songs about my family and friends. Usually I forget them, but I have written a song about my dog, so I want to post it before I forget the lyrics.

It all started when I would come home from the gym and get in the shower. Sammy would always watch me because he's weird and perverted (Hmmm...like mother, like dog...), and so I started singing to him. For some reason, he likes to lick the shower door, too. Very strange. In case you are wondering, no, I do not lick shower doors. (Ew.) However, not unlike my dog, I have been known to chase balls on occassion......

But I digress. (Ok, seriously, what did I eat today??? I think I am on crack...)

Keep in mind this is just the first 3 verses. There will be more, I am sure. Oh-- by the way, this is a country song, so imagine a June Carter-type twang. *ahem*

"Sammy is a Good Dog" -- by VB.

Ohhhh....

Sammy is a good boy,
He always wags his nub.
And there never is a big fight
When it's time for rub-a-dub.
He likes to run and bark a lot
When he gets all riled up,
But he's the cutest thing on 4 legs,
He's my favorite little pup!

Chorus:
Sammy is a good dog
He's the best dog ever was,
Although he snores to wake the dead
And hocks up chunks of fuzz.**
He can be real stubborn
and always wants his way,
But if there's one thing that I know,
My love will never stray!

Sammy licks the shower,
I do not understand.
But when he snuggles on me,
It really is quite grand.
His favorite food is ice cream,
And he can eat a lot.
But the coolest thing about him
Is the tiny little spot!*

Chorus again

Sammy used to have some balls,
He lost them long ago.
So now his favorite thing to do
Is chase them to and fro.
He will chase them anywhere
But mostly down the halls
Whatta I think is going on?
He's looking for his balls.

Chorus again

*Sammy has a little diamond-shaped spot on the top of his head.
**He also likes to eat the fuzz off of tennis balls. Sometimes he gets tennis ball fuzz hairballs. Yeah. [In Fat Bastard voice] He's dead sexy.

I haven't posted any pics of Julian McMahon lately, so here is a good one I found:



Huminahuminahumina....Oh what the heck. Here's another...sweet mother of Jesus.....!!!!



I am gradually working my way through season 1 of Nip/Tuck. So I get to see this type of stuff a lot. *sigh* Thank you, Netflix!!!!

Did you know he's got a movie coming out this weekend? Oh yes, children. He and Sandra Bullock star in it together. Luckily, I like her, so she will not need to be assassinated. Did I mention that there is a SHOWER SCENE in this movie? As in, Julian enters shower. Julian has no clothes on. Julian gets wet in the shower. As in, VB passes out in movie theater and will need smelling salts in order to be revived before she gets brain damage. Yeah.

Guess where I'll be on Sunday, after all my partying is done!

After proofing this and re-reading this post, I've come to the conclusion that I am too...
A) weird
B) ADD-ish and
C) too much of a dork

to ever get the chance to date...
A) Hot Neighbor
B) the cute guy from Happy Hour or
C) Julian McMahon

Ugh. They would all think I'm a complete psycho if they ever read this. So please, don't tell Julian about my blog. I'd appreciate it. Because I look at him and think: "Monkey Sex!!!!"

Sick Day

I'm blogging from home. I don't feel good. Woot woot! Finally got my wish. I was going to go into work this morning, because I had a class to teach. But my car wouldn't start. I took this as a sign that the universe was letting me play hooky today, so I just went back to bed after calling in. I really don't feel good.

My car likes to play this key game with me. You see, the key is worn down and the part of my ignition that reads the key doesn't always want to recognize it. Or the spare key. (The reader needs to be replaced, but I don't want to spend the $300. One day it will stop working completely, but for now, I will take my chances.) So I have to plead, beg, pray and cry to my car for the key to work. And sometimes, it won't. Which means you have to let the reader reset. This could take 2 minutes or 2 hours. Today, I gave up after trying for 15 minutes. And of course, as you can guess, this never happens to me unless I'm in a hurry. I hate my stupid car.

Had a great weekend. Friday night I went out with E and my new friends Tay and S. We have started to make Friday happy hour a weekly event. We go to Wild Wings and have girl talk. This week, we must have really enjoyed ourselves, because we stayed for 8 hours! My butt started to hurt.

E was making me laugh, because she uses this slang I'd never heard before. She and our friend W use it. BBs (Baby Balls) are guys who are under 25. YBs (Young Balls) are guys who are between 25 and our age (late 20s). To hear them talk about the benefits of dating BBs and YBs cracked me up. And now I've started to say it.

You know I embrace any chance to talk about balls...

Anyway, at one point, this really annoying drunk guy started talking to E. He wouldn't go away or shut up. She and I were right in the middle of a conversation, so we found him to be quite irritating. Eventually, I grew tired of playing nice and said, "Are you done? Because you're drunk and annoying and we're in the middle of a conversation. Do you mind?" Just at that moment, a guy friend of ours walked up and we explained our dilemma. It turned out that he was friends with the drunk guy. Oops. Me and my big fat mouth. We apologized to the drunk guy, but our friend assured us it was no big deal--the guy is pretty annoying when he's drunk. Of course, after all that, we felt obligated to talk to him the rest of the night. We never did finish our conversation....

The next night, I went to a birthday party with Stuckey, MJ and K. It was a good time. We had a funny small world moment, though. A group of guests were sitting in the living room, when someone brought up a name of an old friend of theirs. It turned out that about 5 of us also knew him. No one thought anyone else at the party would know this guy, because the guy never goes out. I don't think I know anyone who has less of a social life. So this was so funny to us that somehow, we all knew him. For about 5 minutes, everyone just kept saying, "Wait, you know him, too?" It was very odd.

Sunday, I went to lunch (dinner?) with MJ. We ate grits with fried chicken fingers on top. Mmmmmmm. We had a really nice time. She and I have been spending so much time together, K has started to call her my wife. What can I say? She rocks.

Later on, I went to see Because I Said So with K. Diane Keaton played The Czarina, and Mandy Moore played me. The only difference was that The Czarina doesn't nag me about my laugh, she nags me about my weight. So if you ever wonder what my relationship with my mother is like, go see that movie. It was pretty cute, I must say. Thankfully, my mom, to her credit, would never call me mid-date. After the movie was over, I called The Czarina to tell her that her house was probably bugged. Because they captured her essence on film.

I think I kinda hurt her feelings. She said, "I'm not that meddlesome, am I?" and I assured her she wasn't. But I said she was pretty close. (And I do think that if given the liberty, she would do a lot of the things Diane Keaton's character did in the movie!)

I know this post is boring, y'all. But I don't have much to write about. It's all good in da hood, as they say. I love my friends. And I'm really enjoying hanging out with them. But I do have a secret. A big secret. Which I won't get into right now, for various reasons. But if all things go as planned, I will be making a very big life change in the next few months!!! And I am really excited!!! I will tell you when the moment is right, promise. Or, as usual, you can just email me and I'll tell ya.

Happy Violentine's Day!

Before I begin, let me give you two quick updates:

1. I am in the process of retrospectively labeling all my posts--all the way back to day 1. So if you need to read the whole backstory on my freakishly long toes or why I am going to Hell, you can do so. What did you say? Something about anal retentiveness? What do you mean?

2. I have lost 9 pounds. Woot! Woot! Go me. I am diet queen. I can now fit into 2 pairs of pants which I could not wear in December.

Now, as I was saying...

I've managed to get out some of my pent-up rage in the past couple of days. Thanks to an elliptical machine, Lily Allen, empathetic girlfriends and of course--Camels.

But I've still got some reserve anger to use up tonight, when I get together with MJ, KT and E to do some serious bitching and man-bashing. That should do me for a while, and then it will be back to your regularly scheduled programming here on VB.

Until then, I will share some Violentine's Day related stories.

Story #1

My coworker told me about her friend's current family scandal. It turns out that this woman's grandparents have been married for 51 years. They are in their seventies. [insert "Awww!" here.] So Grandma goes to her high school reunion (why you'd still go to your high school reunion at that age, I don't know). While she's there, she runs into her high school sweetheart. His wife had recently passed away. So afterwards, she goes home and announces to her husband of 51 years that she is leaving him for her high school sweetheart. Then she started packing up all her stuff! She just moved in with her high school sweetheart. Unbelievable, huh? The lady said her family is wigging out over this. Understandably.

Story #2

I wish I could give you a link to this somehow, but since it happened about 20 minutes ago, it's probably not on the Internet yet. My other coworker was listening to a popular morning radio show as she sat at her desk. She overheard this:

DJ: Ok, the 10th caller gets a prize!

10th caller: Hey! Cool! What did I win?

DJ: A dozen red roses!

10th Caller: That's great! I haven't gotten anything for my girlfriend, Kelly, for Valentine's Day.

DJ: Well, that works out perfectly. What's your name? Where do you work?

10th Caller: Shawn Smith [my coworker couldn't remember his last name]. I work at Acme Construction Company [she couldn't remember the specific construction co. either, but it doesn't matter.]

*during the commercial break, the DJ answers the phone*

Lady: hey, did you just give a guy named Shawn Smith a dozen roses for Valentine's day? And he works at Acme Construction Co.?

DJ: Yeah! Are you his Valentine?

Lady: Yeah.

DJ: I think he's still on the line. Want me to put you through?

Lady: Yes, please.

*the DJ puts the two of them live on the radio*

Lady: So, who's Kelly?

10th Caller: She's just a friend! I swear!

Lady: Well, then can you explain to me why I found her earring in your truck?

DJ: Ma'am, are you his wife?

Lady: Yes! [the rest of what she says is bleeped out.]

DJ: [to 10th Caller] This is your wife? And so Kelly's your girlfriend?

10th Caller: Well...kinda.

[The wife starts cussing at him]

A couple minutes later, the DJ said all the phone lines were jammed from all the people calling in about it. I asked my coworker if it was a big set-up or a joke to play on the listeners. She said she didn't think so--the DJ sounded very shocked, and the woman was cussing up a storm. I'm hoping this will make it to the papers or the Internet, so I can post a link about it...this story is too funny. What an idiot!!

Story #3

This one's about me. When I was a senior in college, I dated this real asshole. (He was the guy with 3 balls, actually). By Valentine's Day, I was hip to his jive, and knew he was cheating on me.

So we are on the phone the day before V Day, and I asked him what I was getting for Valentine's Day. I wanted to see what he'd say. I knew he'd lay on the bullshit really thick. He didn't disappoint.

"Oh, well, I wanted to send you some flowers, and I called around to a bunch of florist shops, but I waited too long and they are all out of flowers. I'm sorry."

Readers, breathe deeply. Can you smell the bullshit?? I couldn't believe he actually expected me to belive that crap.

"Oh, that's ok, sweetie. I don't need flowers," I replied.

"I knew you'd understand. You're awesome," he said.

"I know. I'll talk to you later, ok?" I said.

"Ok, bye. I love you," he said.

"Uh-huh," I answered.

After getting off the phone, I immediately opened up my yellow pages. I turned to "Florist". I called the florist shop directly across the street from where he worked.

"Yes, hi, I'd like to have a dozen roses delivered tomorrow. You're not out, are you?" I asked.

"Oh, no. We've got tons. What color would you like?" says the florist.

"It really doesn't matter. Any color. You can mix them up if you want," I said.

"Oh...really?" she asked.

"Sure!" I said.

"Ok, well, I just need the name and address information from you."

I gave it to her. Along with my credit card number.

"One last thing," she said. "What do you want the card to say?"

"I guess you didn't call this florist shop. They have plenty. Asshole." I said.

I heard the florist stifle a giggle.

"*ahem* Really? I guess you didn't call this florist shop. They have plenty. Asshole. Is that right?"

"That's just perfect!" I said. "Thank you so much!"

To this day, it's the best $50 I've ever spent.

A Lot of Balls

Repo update: She took him back. Which was in some ways surprising, and in other ways not. I was cheated on when I was her age, so I know how hard it is to admit it to yourself. And cheaters are very charming and persuasive people, capable of selling a refrigerator to an Eskimo. He's got balls for lying about it and taking the gamble that she'll never figure it out or believe him. One day she'll figure it out. And he'll get what's coming to him. There's no escaping karma.

Thanks to everyone for leaving supportive comments. It means a lot to me.

And whomever "Anonymous" is, they definitely need to work on their reading comprehension skills.

But enough about that. There's nothing I can do about the situation, so there's no point in obsessing about it anymore.

I had a really good weekend with my girlfriends. Friday I met up for happy hour at Wild Wings with my friends W & E. They were also meeting up with a goup of about 8 other people--none of whom I had ever met. Everyone was really friendly, but due to the size of the group, I ended up sitting at one end of the table with W, E and W's Boyfriend. I began talking to W's Boyfriend about jock straps and how I have questions about them. This discussion morphed into a discussion about balls, which led me to share the information that in college I had dated a guy with three balls. (Ironically, it was the guy I referred to above--the one who cheated on me).

Every time I bring up the fact that I've dated a guy with three balls, I get asked the following questions:

1. Did they all work? Yes, he had them tested by a doctor. Or so he said.

2. Were they all the same size? Yes.

3. Did he have extra spunk? I honestly don't remember. I think so...

4. How were they arranged? He had two on one side, stacked on top of each other and a loner on the other side.

I hope I just answered all your questions. Anyway, I'm talking about this 3-Balled guy, and somehow the story drifts all the way down the table. As I'm still talking to W's Boyfriend about it, I am tapped on my shoulder. I turn towards the rest of the group. Now, keep in mind that I haven't even really been introduced to any of these people. Don't really know them from Adam. And as I turn my head, I discover that all 8 or so of them are staring at me, and they are all shouting the same thing-- "He had THREE BALLS?"

"Yeah," I replied, "He had the biggest nut sack I've ever seen in my life!"

And they all cracked up.

Then they asked the obligatory questions (see above) and we all laughed about it. The men at the table teased me incessantly for the rest of the night. "You must have the gag reflex of a porn star!" one of them said.

"Oh God," I thought, my face turning beet red.

And then I realized I had just told 8 strangers about my experience with 3-Ball. And now, since they didn't know my real name, I would probably be referred to as "Ball Girl". Super. Way to make a first impression, VB.

After a while, W, W's Boyfriend, E and I left and went to Jillian's. There, we continued the discussion about balls, which morphed into a discussion about how to avoid being thought of as a tease by men. How to communicate that you want a fling vs. a relationship. And how to date significantly younger men successfully, because they are easily confused by older women in the fling vs. relationship department. It was a very heated discussion, let me tell you. We ribbed E a lot, because she has been sending mixed signals to a younger guy.

Then I left to meet up with MJ and KT at The Hunter-Gatherer (great name for a bar, huh?) to see one of our favorite bluegrass bands, Loch Ness Johnny. Unfortunately, the lead singer had recently had back surgery, so there was a (far inferior) substitute band. After quick updates on our lives, we tried to figure out where we should go to get away from this awful band. But after about 15 minutes of vetoed ideas, we were out of alternative bars. By then, I was exhausted and MJ and KT were also ready for bed. So we called it a night.

Saturday was spent running errands and figuring out my whole iPod situation. My computer wasn't recognizing it or charging it. According to the lady at Best Buy and mysmileisfake (thank you, btw), I probably had 1.0 USB ports, when I really needed 2.0. So I bought a 2.0 USB port.

When I got home, I saw that Navy Guy had come for a visit. (That's my roommate's on-again, off-again boyfriend.) I love Navy Guy. He is just a total sweetheart. He showed me how to install it all by myself, which saved me $40. It was so easy! He also told me why my computer is so slow- I need more RAM. He showed me how to install that for whenever I bought it.

So we plugged my iPod in again. Nothing happened. K plugged her MP3 player in, and it worked fine. We decided it was a faulty iPod, so I returned it and got another one. It is working perfectly! I can't believe it. I'm going to go home and play with it after work today.

I was too tired to go out Saturday night, so I watched Season One of HBO's Big Love. It is my new favorite show. Love it.

Last night, I met up with The Nurses for the Superbowl. We went to The Dam Bar (It's right by the Lake Murray Dam, hence the name) and got a booth. Unfortunately, our seats were bad and none of us could see the tvs very well. By halftime, we gave up and all went home. I fell asleep before the game was over, so I didn't know the Colts won until this morning. I'm happy, though.

BSF#7 -- Cont.

I am so enjoying all the discussion from my last B.S.-Free Post (see below). My readers always bring up such interesting points. I love it. I will try to think up more questions for #8, but until then, I will reply to your comments here.

Question #1 (about how most women now live without a husband, and do men now feel they have nothing to offer?) -- I think most of you feel more women are just choosing to remain unmarried. This sounds about right and could simply be the end of it. Stuckey and mysmileisfake bring up a good point, which I missed, and that is this: guys don't think about what they are offering a woman until later in the game. This makes sense, since we all know that until they are successful, the only thing men are pondering is how to get you to remove all your clothing with them in a dark room. It's only after that they begin to wonder if they can offer a woman something.

Seems kind of backwards, doesn't it?

I'm just kidding. Har har. (Did anyone get that?? Maybe it's just funny in my head.)

And I do agree with my female readers that guys who feel threatened by independent women are not really the kind of men we're interested in, anyway. They can jump off a cliff for all I care. While they're at it, they can take all the submissive wives with them. Independent women are doing themselves a great service by holding out.

Like mysmileisfake said, our priorities have shifted somewhat. Our careers are important to both men and women nowadays, so we all like to get on firm ground with those before tackling the search for a life partner. We do college and careers for a while, then start thinking about having a family. Back in the day, I think it may have been the other way around. Hence the smaller number of unmarried women a couple decades ago. I am not saying one version is better or worse, I am just noting a trend. And TGOV, as usual, brings up a very good point about how there are good things and bad things about being an Independent Woman these days. I always appreciate her intelligent point of view. Smart lady.

I have a married friend who says that it's not about settling. It's about finding someone whose faults you can live with. Marry the one you can tolerate, basically. At first, it sounds depressing, or even like settling, but if you stop and think about it, it makes sense. WLF (my dad) was a total slob, smoked cigars like a chimney and spent money like it grew on trees. Did this bug The Czarina? Yup. Was it so irritating that it wasn't worth marrying him? Nope. That's why it's important, IMO, to really stop and think about the things you can live with and those you can't. Think about your values and which ones must be present in a potential spouse, which ones should be present, and which ones are just a bonus.

Then again, what the hell do I know? I'm single. This is just my plan. I haven't figured anything out. But I do believe that I'll know it when I see it.

Question #2-- About jock straps and cups. I am only slightly more clear about this whole thing. Men sure are secretive about it. Jeez. And yes, I grew up with 3 brothers, and I have seen jockstraps. But for crying out loud, it's not like it was a popular topic at the family dinner table.

"Mom, can you pass the salt and pepper? Thanks. So, Fat Dog, tell me about jock straps."

"Well, VB, what do you want to know?"

"Do they prevent saggy balls? Because they should."

See what I mean? Not. Appropriate. Sibling. Topic. Just weird and awkward, even in theory. What gives, guys? I mean, I can sit here all day long and answer your questions about bras and tampons. Assuming you want to know. I am just curious. Do guys have to wear jock straps when they go running? Are they uncomfortable to the point that your wiener could fall asleep? Because jock straps look a lot like girdles. Do they have underwires in them if you are...uh, blessed in that department? Because they should. Let me tell ya, it makes all the difference in the world if you're talking about support.

I am entirely too curious about jock straps, I think.

Question #3--Approachability. Stuckey has brought up something I've always believed: Guys will view you as more approachable if you seem to be having a good time already. There are several reasons for this: he doesn't have to work as hard to get you in a good mood, you seem happy and friendlier, you know how to have a good time...etc. I have always thought this made girls more approachable. It can be said for guys, too. Who wants Mr. Morose to talk to you? Any takers? Didn't think so.

I see there is somewhat of a disagreement here about whether or not to approach a girl who is part of a group (larger than 3). Let me explain. Because I can speak for all women around the globe, don't you know. (right...) The general rule of thumb is what Stuckey said: Three or less, knock yourself out. But if it's Girls' Night Out (often this would mean a flock of lovely women in a group of 4 or more), you should probably forget it. However, if there is a gorgeous specimen of a woman to whom you must speak, all is not lost. Your options include:

1. Figuring out a way to be introduced to one of the girls in the group (this is, obviously, easier in a smaller city) so that you may make a seamless transition into the group. If you are successful at this, keep in mind you are still interrupting Girls' Night Out, so you should move along after a few minutes. Meet, greet, get the digits and be gone. Please don't ruin GNO by not taking no for an answer. Just go. Away.

2. Catching the object of your desire as she is separated from the herd. This method is similar to the lions picking off the weak, sickly and young stragglers of a herd as they are fleeing. This does NOT imply she is weak or young. Or sickly. To act accordingly would probably get you ignored at best, and slapped at worst. Where was I? Oh yeah. So tap her on the shoulder as she's headed out of the bathroom. Notice I said "out of". Please don't make her choose between her bursting bladder and your adorable face. It's such a tough call. Or see if she heads to the bar to get drinks--this is a very good time to approach a girl, as she might need help carrying the drinks back to her friends. Thus, you are both cute AND handy to have around. Also, if the bar is busy, she will have about 10 minutes to talk to you as she waits. If she wants to continue talking to you, she will invite you to join the group (see #1). If she is really loving GNO, she'll say thank you, give you her number and go about her merry way.

3. Doing what Justin suggested: Grab your enormous cojones, walk up to the whole group and mack on her in front of her friends. This is, of course, the absolute most risky of all behaviors and should be attempted only by men who possess either incredible flirting skills or little to no pride. I highly recommend thinking of something immensely witty to say ahead of time. It should be blunt and funny. That is the only way to do it. If you are not the witty type, do as Justin did and just say something really incredibly sweet. Don't worry, if you are sincere, her girlfriends will be instantly on your side, egging her on to give you her number. So decide which method you will employ. With this one, you have about a 50/50 shot at making a total idiot out of yourself. DO NOT under any circumstances, attempt this after your third beer. You will just be "The Drunk Guy Who Hit on Amanda". Don't be that guy. Because that's what all of them will call you for the rest of your life. Not good. However, feel free to use your drunk friend as a prop in this method. For example, burst into their circle with your drunk buddy and say something like, "Excuse me, but I just found him on the bathroom floor. Does he belong to you?" At the very least, you'll be known as Random Funny Guy. This is good.

Hmmm...I don't know if there is a #4....those are all the methods I can think of at the moment.

But back to Stuckey's list of How to Be An Approachable Female. He says he needs an indicator. Good point. I have to say, this is probably something I don't use to the best of my abilities. Sometimes, I will encourage my group of girlfriends to shift our position closer to the cute guy. I figure, the closer I'm standing to him, the higher my chances. But some days, I just don't have the confidence. I will have to remember this and utilize it more fully. It's good advice.

I'm glad to read that men sometimes have low-esteem days, too, and just aren't up to hitting on anyone. This is a big relief. Sometimes I feel like women are the only gender with self-esteem issues. Guys are always so confident. Guys must just be better at hiding it.

And Stuckey pointed out that my list has more to do with the post-approach rather than what makes a guy approachable. To which I reply: duh. I don't hit on guys. I am Southern and old-fashioned. Maybe other girls feel comfy hitting on guys. I am not one of them. So no, I can't really tell much until they approach me. But I'm not interested in guys who don't have cojones anyway. It's a good screening method. If they don't like what they see enough to walk across the room and talk to me, they must not be that interested. I prefer to date guys who are interested.

Does this make me high-maintenance? You know what. Don't answer that. I'll discuss it in #8.